#note: not a rule for everyone just what's compelling for me. and also a good/easy theory to execute off of vs indecision paralysis.

[kradeelav]

analyzing my picture hoard today as to why some backgrounds "do" it for me (eg old well designed videogame levels) and some others don't (eg artfully flat stills).

[emilianadarling]

For the ask meme: 13, 29, and 35, please!

Continuing to work through the submissions I got for the writer ask meme. :3

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

Oof. I suppose on the 'difficult' front, there's a spectrum between:

'difficult to write about but I still DO write about it', and

'so difficult to write about that I choose not to write about it, period'.

In the former category, we have *wince* things like trauma to hands and fingers, which is very deeply unpleasant to write about but I absolutely WILL and HAVE done it. It's aksjdhajksdhkjsahdj to write about for me personally, but I CAN soldier through.

For those of you who've read Until My Dying Breath from way back in 2011-2012, I quite literally had to write the 'Vampire!Kurt snaps a guy's wrists backward like twigs' scene with my eyes averted as I typed, my little 21-22 year old self going 'ahh' 'AHHH' out loud at the laptop screen as I did so, then went back and edited out all the typos another day once I'd had a chance to steel myself. I don't LIKE writing it, but I have and will again.

Then there is the 'so difficult to write about that I choose not to write about it, period' end of the spectrum, which is for me a more pernicious kind of difficulty. For me, that's things like partner betrayal, infidelity, certain fundamental betrayals between close family. I can feel out of my skin for days after encountering those elements in stories unexpectedly, and so it's just not a topic I have much desire to feature as central elements of my writing.

Obligatory 'writing battle scenes is also hard' note here lmao, but while it's true and they ARE, I think working through my battle scene anxieties by way of repeated exposure and beta reader/collaborator support.

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

The first thing that came to mind are these passages from On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King:

"... good story ideas seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky: two previously unrelated ideas come together and make something new under the sun. Your job isn’t to find these ideas but to recognize them when they show up."[...]

"We are writers, and we never ask one another where we get our ideas; we know we don’t know."

This may not be everyone's experience, but there are elements that certainly echo my own. Sometimes it strikes all at once, a convergence of concepts into a story you want to read so badly you feel compelled to craft it into existence.

The next closest answer I can give is "other people's stories", because everything is a story and the world is a story and we all creatively stand on the shoulders of giants. We build upon the stories that fed us!!!

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

Perhaps not into smithereens, but I do have a counterpoint to Orwell’s Rule: "never use a long word when a short word will do".

While the underlying sentiment is, for me, often supportable... in practice, my gut preference is to go with the word that describes the thing as precisely, evocatively, and accurately as possible. Often times, that's a shorter one; sometimes, it's a longer one.

There are some words out there that are apt as fuck. 'Load-bearing words', if you will. Describing Din's armor as "a metallurgical second skin" gave me bone-deep satisfaction during revisions. It just felt right, and I knew Caro would LOVE it once they did their beta reading pass... and they DID.

So -- short words are OFTEN better, in my eyes. But not always. Sometimes, a longer word will do.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude)

The Lotus Pier was a free and unrestrained place in comparison with the Cloud Recesses, and there was no similar prohibition on raising pets. This was a good thing, largely because Lan Wangji had recently started to think of his little found family primarily in animal metaphors.

It was, he concluded, because of the way Mo Xuanyu followed Jiang Cheng around like an imprinted duckling, with stars in his eyes and an unfortunate tendency to try to emulate his actions while possessing exactly none of the temperament required to pull any of it off.

Indeed, watching him wheezing his way through a threat to break Jin Ling’s legs was a sight worth seeing, especially with Lan Sizhui patting him on the back and encouraging him when he temporarily got stuck stuttering on the word ‘legs’.

Jiang Cheng, for all his faults and imperfections, could be terrifying when he wished to be, the blood of the battlefields of the Sunshot Campaign forever impressed upon his bones; with Zidian to hand, he could look commanding and fearsome, decisive and harsh, and with his sharp looks and sharper scowl, he cut a fine picture - even if Lan Wangji knew the truth, that behind all that sharpness was the soul of a grumpy marshmallow.

Mo Xuanyu, with his wild thatch-like hair that couldn’t be controlled no matter their joint efforts and even wilder and far more questionable taste in appearance, couldn’t hope to match him, and really ought to stop trying.

Naturally, Jin Ling looked about as convinced about the threats as he ever was when Jiang Cheng said it, meaning of course that he didn’t care one whit, but despite their initial concerns, he took to Mo Xuanyu quite well. Lan Wangji was initially puzzled by it, given their conflicting personalities, but Jiang Cheng insightfully (for once) pointed out that it was most likely that Jin Ling was willing to forgive quite a lot in exchange for having another person dressed in Lanling Jin gold around to make him feel less awkward about it.

The two of them together were two little goldfinches strutting around in a sea of purple – or, perhaps more accurately, two golden roly-poly puppies bounding around, tails wagging, trying to befriend the Jiang sect’s army of sleek haughty purple cats. They were accompanied, of course, by a small, gentle crane with a most un-Lan-like taste for spicy fish with radishes and absolutely no head for water travel.

(They were working with Lan Sizhui on that. He lived in the Jiang sect now; he couldn’t spend his whole life being seasick!)

“What does that make you, then?” Jiang Cheng asked when Lan Wangji – after incessant prodding – mentioned his thoughts on the subject of their growing nest. “Master Rabbit?”

Lan Wangji glared, but didn’t object to the characterization; regardless of his personality, there was good reason to make the association. This was largely because Lan Xichen had recently embarked on a mission to capture the rabbits Lan Wangji had been – not raising, precisely, because pets were forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, but feeding on occasion when he had the time. He had brought them to Lan Wangji’s new “residence” at the Lotus Pier as a housewarming gift.

(Lan Wangji had no intention of moving out of Wei Wuxian’s bedroom, of course, but Jiang Cheng had long ago exercised his authority as sect leader to clear out the rooms just beyond it to create a small additional courtyard for him, in which he could exercise and meditate without being too far from the main quarters of the Jiang sect leader. As a result, the only change involved in his new, public, and above-board decision to reside in the Louts Pier was adding a new entranceway to make it appear as though they lived in separate albeit adjoining houses rather than living together in just one. Of course, it being the Lotus Pier, the new entranceway involved constructing not only a gate but a new bridge…)

“What exactly are we supposed to do with a bunch of rabbits?” Jiang Cheng had demanded at the time, staring down at them - there were rather more than Lan Wangji had remembered there being, but he supposed that was the nature of rabbits.

“I have no idea,” Lan Xichen had replied, smiling broadly. “But Wangji likes them.”

Lan Wangji had pretended that neither of them existed, and also that he was urgently needed elsewhere.

Later, Jiang Cheng had cornered him, demanding an explanation or else the rabbits would be sent down to the kitchens to be repurposed, and Lan Wangji had reluctantly confessed that they were from the burrow first established by the two wild rabbits Wei Wuxian had caught for him all those years ago.

Naturally there was no more talk of repurposing after that, and three sets of rabbit coops – far more than the rabbits Lan Wangji actually possessed required – mysteriously appeared in his small courtyard the next day.

“Wouldn’t want the stupid things to drown,” Jiang Cheng had grumbled when confronted with the evidence of his sentimentality. “If they attacked your garden and tried to burrow down they’d only hit water, and then where would we be? Awash in bunny corpses, that’s where, and that’s just unsanitary. I have a duty as sect leader to preserve the public health, you know.”

Lan Wangji had initially had some difficulty determining what type of animal Jiang Cheng was. He was as prickly as a porcupine, as standoffish as a hedgehog, as fickle as a cat, as graceful and vicious as an angry goose…

Recently, however, Lan Wangji had met a merchant from the south who had been selling a type of bird he called zishuiji, or purple swamphens – the merchant claimed that they were descended from the famous zhanniao, the poisonfeather zhen bird noted for their purple bellies, scarlet beaks, and deadly venom. Although Lan Wangji was moderately certain that the man was exaggerating for the sake of a sale, he had found himself compelled to purchase several sets to house in one of the empty rabbit coops, now moved to be placed in the main courtyard, nominally to be nearer to the waterways but mostly so that they’d be easily accessible to everyone - and, of course, to subtly harass Jiang Cheng.

It turned out that zishuiji could apparently be treated in much the same way as chickens. They were highly adaptable, but thrived best near water; they were generally shy around humans, but vicious in defending their territory, capable of biting and mobbing when provoked; and they preferred to raise their eggs with company –

Truly, he had found the right bird for Jiang Cheng.

(Not to mention the euphonious imagery of a purple hen strutting around with its purple lighting, zishuiji with zidian...truly, a picture meant for the ages. Lan Wangji determined at once to make a painting of it and insist Jiang Cheng hang it on some wall. Maybe even one of the ones in the main hall, where strangers could see.)

“Some of these are getting used for food,” Jiang Cheng insisted with a glare. “Some of the rabbits, too. There are no rules against the killing of livestock here, you hear me?”

Mo Xuanyu fell in love with them immediately – Jiang Cheng’s theory was that he was entranced by their iridescent feathers, while Lan Wangji’s view was that he recognized the innate Jiang Cheng-ness of them – and quickly took charge of their care, although Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling routinely assisted in collecting eggs.

Jiang Cheng reluctantly admitted, after some time, that the purchase had been a good one, if only because it served to settle their little awkward duckling into place, finally allowing Mo Xuanyu some sense of stability, as if having some type of small duty for which he was responsible was all he needed to believe that he wouldn’t be forced back to Lanling or to Mo village, his original place of origin, which he somehow feared even more than the backstabbing snakepit of Koi Tower.

(“You need to stop calling him a duckling,” Jiang Cheng said, quivering with laughter. “Do you know that could also mean…no, I’m not saying it. Anyway, he’s such an impressionable brat. Did you see what he did with that make-up he bought? He really does look a bit...”

From this, Lan Wangji inferred that the nickname was both extremely apt, extremely unfortunate, and had permanently stuck.)

In fact, despite initial concerns, it had been surprisingly comfortable to bring Mo Xuanyu into their lives at the Lotus Pier.

He was grateful and happy to be there, which helped; Lan Sizhui was welcoming, and Jin Ling somewhat reluctantly accepting, each for their own reasons, which helped more.

Best of all, he was at just the right age to be a regular disciple, and the current Jiang sect was especially welcoming to outsiders, having been cobbled together from a wide range of previously rogue cultivators and the small handful of survivors of the previous sect’s massacres. It improved Mo Xuanyu’s mood tremendously to be around boys and girls his own age, doing the same thing as them, without the weight of Lanling Jin’s expectations on his shoulders even if he sometimes wore their colors.

“He’s never going to be the most martially inclined,” Jiang Cheng opined after a small period of observation. “But he might make a decent administrator.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him sidelong in silent question, since Mo Xuanyu had not displayed any especially notable scholastic talents either. He had started cultivating fairly late, although obviously not as late as Jin Guangyao, but he lacked the other man’s genius for organization and management. Moreover, while his studies did admittedly exceeded the low bar set in Lan Wangji’s mind by Nie Huaisang’s miserable performance, that was a very low bar indeed.

(Nie Huaisang wasn’t stupid, he reminded himself once again. He was in fact extremely clever. And yet, even knowing what he knew, it was so easy to forget…)

“He’s kind and thoughtful of the well-being of others,” Jiang Cheng said, averting his gaze and pretending his cheeks weren’t tinting red. “Calligraphy and math, people skills, that can all be learned, but at least he has the important part down…I told you to stop doing that.”

Lan Wangji ignored him and continued to smile.

“Freak,” Jiang Cheng muttered, then shook his head. “I can’t believe anyone actually listens to you. Least of all me!”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. That part was Jiang Cheng’s own fault – he’d been using Lan Wangji as a sounding board more or less from the beginning, and started making him do some of his paperwork as soon as he’d been regularly awake for more than a shichen at a time under the barely plausible claim that it was good for him to exercise his hands. Now that Lan Wangji was officially out of seclusion, Jiang Cheng had promptly shoveled even more work at him – despite the fact that they were supposedly at each other’s throats.

The Jiang disciples that had not been in the loop – most of them, to Lan Wangji’s mild surprise – adjusted quickly, especially after they noticed the long-suffering expressions on the faces of Jiang Cheng’s immediate deputies. They had remained wary for a while, possibly expecting Lan Wangji to seek to implement the Lan sect rules at any moment, but after a time he had managed to win their confidence through his efficient administration and respect for their customs.

He did…rather a lot, actually. He reviewed the sect’s accounts along with Jiang Cheng, managed certain negotiations, oversaw the continuing reconstruction efforts, reviewed submitted proposals –

All things that the Lan sect did as well, but which had never come to him before. Lan Wangji suspected that in many cases, they did not even come to his brother or his uncle, who were nominally in charge of such things; the Lan sect disdained such worldly affairs, while the Jiang sect embraced them.

Although while he was on the subject of being above worldly affairs, it occured to him that he had not had an opportunity to take Bichen out recently, and it would be good to do so. He would need to come up with some excuse to insist on Jiang Cheng accompanying him for a night hunt sometime soon, some reason that would stand up to scrutiny from the outside.

As for convincing Jiang Cheng himself, however, that would be no problem.

“We are going night-hunting soon,” he informed Jiang Cheng, who looked appalled by the very thought.

“You’re joking, right?” he demanded. “Do you know how much work we have to do? The yearly update with the dyer’s guild is –”

“Not for another two months, and preparation typically takes only two weeks.”

“Reconstruction –”

“Does not require constant supervision at this stage.”

“The – there’s training –”

Lan Wangji attempted to convey his feelings on the validity of that excuse entirely through his facial expression, and it must have worked because Jiang Cheng crumbled at once, grumbling to himself.

“Who’ll we leave the children with?” he tried. “Especially with Xuanyu being so new – oh, all right. It’s weak and I know it, you don’t have to give me that judgmental look of yours.”

“If Jiang Wanyin believes that his skills have gotten so rusty that he would be unable to keep up…”

“I’m going to break your legs,” Jiang Cheng hissed at him. “I’m going to – to – oh, wait, actually, there is a reason we can’t go just yet. We’re expecting honored guests!”

Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows.

“You wouldn’t have seen the report yet, it’s still on our desk,” Jiang Cheng said. “You know of the Baixue Temple, right?”

Lan Wangji looked askance, indicating that he had of course heard of the temple, a renowned place of learning, but that he presumed that that was not what Jiang Cheng meant and also that perhaps Jiang Cheng would like to get to the point at some time before their deaths from old age.

“Fuck you too,” Jiang Cheng said conversationally, having learned the nuances of Lan Wangji’s expressions by now. “It was attacked recently, and rumor has it that it was Xue Yang that did it. Yes, the same Xue Yang who did the Chang clan massacre, the one the Jin sect was protecting before they washed their hands of him.”

Lan Wangji frowned.

“They made it through with relatively minimal casualties,” Jiang Cheng assured him. “Out of luck, mostly – when Xue Yang disappeared before his trial, the Nie sect made sure word got out everywhere, and Lianfeng-zun, who might’ve quashed it, even helped spread them, instead. From what I understand, Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen returned to Baixue Temple to make sure it wouldn’t be attacked over their part in Xue Yang’s initial arrest, as it later turned out to be - truly, evil is mundane and predictable. They led the defensive efforts and saved many lives.”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen –

Lan Wangji had heard Jiang Cheng speak of them before, of course. Rogue cultivators of considerable fame, who had refused all offers to join any of the sects, major or minor, but instead professed a desire to start a cultivation school of the old-fashioned sort, valuing affinity and merit over blood relation.

Not that that was what had caught the attention of Lan Wangj, or of Jiang Cheng for that matter.

Rather, it was said that Xiao Xingchen was a disciple of Baoshan Sanren, the famous immortal that lived secluded on the mountain. That made him Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle, and both of them were shamelessly interested in all things relating even tangentially to Wei Wuxian, however indirectly.

Jiang Cheng had sent several invitations for a visit back when the Chang clan disaster had happened. None had been accepted, which was probably all for the best – he had had to stop inviting them on account of how they’d angered the Jin sect over the matter.

(It had caused Jiang Cheng no end of nightmares, the feeling of complicity in a massacre just like the one that had destroyed his own sect sending him into a spiral of self-hatred, questioning his own morality and righteousness, wondering if his ancestors were judging him and finding him wanting, wondering if Wei Wuxian was –

It had not been a good time, a thankfully temporary reversion back to the bad days closer to the start. But Jiang Cheng was better now.)

“Why accept an invitation now?” Lan Wangji asked.

“They’re planning on hunting him down, I think, and having learned a little bit from last time, they want to get as many allies on board as possible in advance,” Jiang Cheng said, and shook his head at the depressing need to account for worldly politics when seeking to live a righteous life. A lesson hard-learned, for both of them. “They wrote to me first, this time. In return, I plan to indicate that they are welcome to come to the Lotus Pier to try to convince me – we’ll agree to help them, of course, but it’ll be nice to share a meal with them. Maybe some stories.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said. “And entertainment, of course.”

Jiang Cheng looked at him.

“We should take them night-hunting,” Lan Wangji elaborated, and Jiang Cheng scowled at him.

“There are oxen less stubborn than you! Donkeys! Geese!”

Lan Wangji was not a goose. A crane, perhaps, like Lan Sizhui – gentle and graceful and well-educated, with a sharp beak that most people overlooked.

He suspected Jiang Cheng would argue instead for the goose.

“I will write to my brother,” he said, opting to change the subject. “Xue Yang is a sensitive subject for his sworn brothers, as you know. It would be best to prepare him should they resume their fight with each other.”

“Oh, that’s just what we need,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Lianfeng-zun and Chifeng-zun at each other’s throats again…did I tell you about the series of small but extremely irritating disasters that happened that time I was at Koi Tower? The room flooding, the too-thick incense, the – the thing with the cat –”

“I also recall you coming back from a night-hunt with Chifeng-zun with an expression suggesting that someone had put the fear of death into you, yes,” Lan Wangji said.

“It’s Chifeng-zun. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you avoiding any circumstances where he could have the same talk with you!”

Lan Wangji did not deny it. As he was not a sect leader, he could avoid such things with much greater ease than poor Jiang Cheng – who was glaring again.

“You should try harder to get along with him,” he remarked, and Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed even further. “You have many things in common –”

“Lan Wangji. You are, as A-Yuan’s father, permitted to set up as many playdates for him as you’d like. You are not permitted to do the same for me.”

Lan Wangji nodded, indicating that would give that all the consideration it deserved, namely none.

Jiang Cheng made a sound not unlike the whistling of a boiling pot.

Lan Wangji decided that a triumphant but timely retreat was appropriate.

[a-master-procrastinator]

Long ass post about the Eternal family not being a copy-paste from ATLA (aka I like the memes but my god can you please stop)

Because some people truly think that Vaylin is off-brand Azula, Arcann is Zuko and so on.

It's. Called. A. Trope. (I mean how often do we come across abusive manipulative fathers in media? Mothers who couldn't much to change anything? Children, desperately looking for their parent's approval no matter what?)

Of course, you have to consider the fact that the writing of ATLA is simply better than of KotFE/ET, so this might have been one of the reasons why people say that.

Spoilers for Avatar: The Last Airbender, Knights of the Fallen Empire and Knights of the Eternal Throne expansions!

Okay, so here's my unprofessional, maybe biased, not super deep take.

(not going to mention that all of them are members of royal, ruling family, kinda obvious)

What roles do they play in their stories? Well, both Valkorion and Ozai are main antagonists, but their presence throughout the story is very different. Ozai is rarely shown in first two seasons, we don't even see his face until season 3. He doesn't have a direct connection to the protagonist, they only meet at the very end of the show, and Ozai's role is to pose a threat to the world, while Aang's is to save it. Valkorion, on the other hand, is constantly on the screen, interacting with the main character, challenging their viewpoint and influencing them directly. His end goal is similar to Ozai's (destroy everything and be the only ruler of the his nation), but with one major difference - he's trapped in Outlander's mind, so to achieve his goal Valkorion attempts to take control of the main character. Their interactions play important role in the story, and we spend a lot of time with Valkorion.

In addition to that, their relationship with children are also not exactly the same. It seems like Azula is Ozai's favorite and Zuko is a failure in his eyes until he meets his expectations, and the same goes with Vaylin, Arcann and Valkorion, right? Well, partially. Indeed, Valkorion and Ozai's treat their sons in similar ways (are disappointed in them until they meet their expectation by doing something that goes against their morals), but when it comes to Vaylin and Azula, it's not that easy. See, Valkorion claims that Vaylin was always his favorite creation (even though we know it's actually his empire), and he certainly seems to take pride in her potential in the Force. But her power is the very reason he's afraid of his own daughter, and in this fear Valkorion literally locks Vaylin away and allows to put her through physical and mental torture just to make sure she won't become a threat, won't overpower him. Maybe he thought of her better than of Arcann, but she wasn't his favored child for sure. I don't want to say that Azula hasn't experienced abuse from Ozai, but for the most part he clearly favored her over Zuko. He has never shown fear of Azula's power and abilities (or at least I haven't noticed), quite the opposite - allowed her to do a lot, as long as she brings results.

I could also mention their slightly different characterization (mostly that we get more characterization of Valkorion, get to learn his motivations, views, philosophy and all that, also he's portrayed as more nuanced, even if he not really is) and role in their respective governments (ozai is one of many Fire Lords and arguably not the greatest, while Valkorion is a god to citizens of Zakuul, their only Immortal Emperor), but those are details, and I think you get the point.

What's similar: role of the main antagonist, manipulative and abusive father, goal of destruction of everything that isn't their nation/empire, relationship with disgraced son.

What's different: presence in the overall narrative, relationship with the main character, relationship with daughter, role in their societies.

Senya and Ursa are even less similar. Yes, they both are mothers who love their children, but have to leave them, but these are probably the only things they have in common. Just as with Ozai and Valkorion's presence throughout the story, Ursa is only shown in flashbacks (for obvious reasons), and Senya is one of major characters in KotFE and (a bit less major) in KotET. Ursa leaves because she has to kill Azulon in order to save Zuko, and later isn't present in the story (I'm aware that her fate is told in comics, but we aren't talking about it). Senya leaves because when she tries to take children with her, they refuse, and she understands that she can't force them to, nor she can help them to break free from Valkorion's manipulations. For a long time she's absent from Arcann ad Vaylin's lives, but at the time of game events she attempts to save her children and stop the madness and destruction they've caused, and it isn't a small part of the story.

I also want to add that their relationship with Ozai and Valkorion are also different, but can't say much about Ursa. I heard that she didn't choose this marriage and suffered emotional (and maybe physical???) abuse from Ozai. I can say with confidence, though, that Senya genuinely loved Valkorion, and strangely enough, he seems to at very least respect her. But, of course, this wasn't the best marriage either.

Plus, we see more of Senya's relationship with Vaylin than Arcann or Thexan, but with Ursa we see her more with Zuko than Azula. Just a detail to remember.

(also Senya is simply a better character but that besides the point, moving on. in this house we stand Senya)

What's similar: role of loving and caring mother, abandoning their family at some point.

What's different: presence in the overall narrative, relationship with husband, characterization in general.

Boy, where do I even begin. Vaylin and Azula are similar in that they are both extremely powerful (one is firebending prodigy, the other is potentially stronger than Valkorion), both are cruel "craaaaazy" (i hate that cliché), both are younger sisters, have serious mother issues (seemingly more so than father issues), both go through betrayal of people they could always rely on, which eventually leads to their downfall. But when I took a look at their personal arcs, it became clear that they aren't the same (unfortunately, Vaylin's arc is very rushed and underdeveloped, but we'll have to go with what we have and my personal view, sorry).

There's a really good video about writing corruption and madness, and I'm going to base my thoughts on it. To summarise it: a good corruption arc should have 4 components:

- the character has a specific goal (or a goal and subgoals);

- in pursuit of said goal they become the cause of a significant event that brings serious consequences;

- as the result of these consequences, character abandons their morals, ideals or a code in pursuit of goal;

- character either will not achieve their goal or will succeed, but it won't be enough to satisfy them.

And then the author brings Azula's arc as one of the best examples of compelling story of corruption (so basically, she represents it perfectly). In short, Azula's main goals are perfection and control, and subgoals help achieve the main ones. In pursuit of these goals, Azula causes Mai and Ty Lee to betray her (by pushing them too far to do something they wouldn't do), which then causes her to become paranoid, which makes her to attempt controlling everything and everyone around her, *breathes* which makes her lose control over herself and ....

Now, I thought if Vaylin's arc could fit into a corruption one, and next part will be based a lot on my assumptions and personal view of her character (plus rushed writing doesn't help), but I think yes (or at least mostly). The difference is in goals, ideals and details.

While the story strongly makes us think that Vaylin's goal is freedom (or control over her life and everything around her) or power and destruction, I think it's actually self-determination (which was said by Tenebrae in 6.2) and feeling safe. Let me explain (and here I thought this would be a short comparison). Sure, when Valkorion caged Vaylin on Nathema, he took choices and control over her life from his daughter. But let's not forget whom Vaylin blames for this (even more than Valkorion): her own mother, and I think this details tell us that the most important thing that Vaylin lost on Nathema is feeling safe. Then, after Arcann brought her home, I assume Vaylin still didn't feel safe enough under Valkorion's rule, still too afraid that he'd simply send her back to that hellish place.

It's when Valkorion is struck down Vaylin finally has a feeling of personal safety, even if she isn't the one on the throne. Why? Because back on Nathema there were two people who haven't turned on her - Arcann and Thexan (yes, this is also a huge assumption, bc the game states that only Thexan visited her, but it doesn't make much sense).

I've always noticed (and I'm not alone in this) that her behavior in Fallen Empire is different from the way she acted in Eternal Throne. Most likely bc of rushed writing, but I see a character driven reason here. In first of these expansions, Vaylin is the second person in power on Zakuul, and with Arcann being in charge, person she can trust more than any other living being, she feels safe - she can test her power, and now Valkorion won't prevent it, she can do pretty much everything she wishes, and the most Arcann will do about this is mildly complain (without blaming her). Really would be nice if we got to see any normal hobbies of Vaylin (like wasn't there something about books or art?), but I digress. She might have some questions about Arcann's tactics, but they get along just fine. The important thing to note is Vaylin not seeking to hunt the Outlander personally, to rule or conquer the rest of the galaxy, or trying to achieve absolute freedom or power. She's kinda there.

This, however, changes when Arcann doesn't allow Vaylin to kill Senya. Their relationship was getting somewhat worse towards the end of KotFE, but this is a turning event Vaylin caused by attempting to strike her mother. By saving the person Vaylin blames for all the trauma from sending her to Nathema, Arcann threatened her feeling of safety. And now Vaylin starts to believing that to achieve safety she now needs to kill people who hurt her (that's why she's so determined to find Senya and Arcann), take the throne and hunt down Outlander (she was manipulated by SCORPIO to these subgoals).

(The following is the weakest, I'll admit, but I hope I can at least express what I see). So, in trying to achieve goals she didn't want before Vaylin loses in self-determination, being either driven by overwhelming anger or manipulated by others (SCORPIO or Commander on Odessen), desperately trying to accomplish anything, or even goes against her morals (like by erasing GEMINI's free will protocols, when earlier she agreed that freedom to choose is important; or breaking the deal on Odessen). All of these result in her downfall.

But even this isn't the end. The key difference between arcs of Azula Vaylin lies in it's resolution, or that Vaylin have a chance to overcome corruption in the main narrative (and Azula doesn't. again, not including comics here, sorry). After death, Vaylin is again controlled by Valkorion in Outlander's mind. First time physically (she can't resist it), second time mentally. This is where Vaylin has to choose - kill brother who betrayed her and Commander who killed her, or go against Valkorion, person responsible for almost all of her pain and trauma. She has t choose by herself, and I think it's a good start.

Now, before 6.2 we all thought Vaylin was dead for good, but that story update hinted at possibility of her coming back to life. What I like to think is that now that she dealt with people responsible for her trauma (helped defeat Valkorion and actually for once listened to Senya), Vaylin can now have a different life, finding herself with support of someone she doesn't hold a grudge against and who treats her well (Satele, I mean).

I'm so sorry for going into details, but I needed this long explanation to present the point (and I suck at explanations). As said before, this is my version of her arc, and most likely wrong interpretation, but even with personal freedom of choice, Vaylin character differs from Azula a lot.

Need I mention that Vaylin relationship with Arcann and Valkorion are drastically different from those between Azula, Zuko and Ozai?

(Also a little detail - with royal family of Fire Nation, Azula is the golden child, while with Tiralls it's actually Thexan, not Vaylin).

What's similar: role of extremely powerful, emotionally damaged daughter with little to no regard towards others, close people betraying them, resulting in their downfall.

What's different: characterization, role in the narrative, relationship with father and brother.

Arcann and Zuko is the most difficult part, but I still believe that calling Arcann just a cheap copy of Zuko is incorrect.

So, they fall into role of less successful son, always getting disapproval from father, being in shadow of more talented sibling, both obsessed with capturing the main character but ending up helping them end the war after going through a redemption arc with help of caring family member. Even both have scars on left side of face. Yeah, seems similar. I still think they are different characters.

Let's start with their relationships with family. In Valkorion section I said that his attitude towards Arcann is similar to that of Ozai towards Zuko, so not going to spend too much time here. However, there's slight difference - Zuko didn't kill his father even he had a perfect opportunity (bc it wasn't his goal), Arcann did (bc it was one of his goals), which says something about their characterizations.

Zuko and Ursa were shown to have a good mother-son relationship, and it played a role in Zuko's character. With Arcann and Senya, we don't really know (not much was shown in expansions). We know Arcann didn't hate his mother, but possibly didn't have warm memories of her either. The reason is most likely, like Senya said, her children wanted nothing to do with her (which is a bit untrue about Vaylin, but okay) and leaned more towards Valkorion. We need to remember that on Zakuul Valkorion isn't just one of many great leaders, he's the greatest, and seen as a god by most citizens, so safe to assume the same would apply to his children as well.

Zuko and Azula's siblingship (i'm out of words) is a bit similar to Arcann and Vaylin's in way of brother knowing that his sister isn't good, but still caring about them (even if not showing). At least it's what I saw. What's different is how Azula treats Zuko, compared to how Vaylin treats Arcann. I think Azula showed compassion or concern for Zuko maybe twice, but I'm not entirely convinced that it was 100% sincere. Vaylin, on the other hand, seems to trust and care about Arcann (with bits of sass and questioning his life choices), and switching to complete opposite after him saving Senya. Also, I don't she ever called Arcann a failure in their father's eyes.

Now I want to say that their roles in stories aren't the same either. Sure, both are introduced to us as antagonists, but in reality, Zuko was never a true antagonist (we get to learn this somewhere mid-season 1), when Arcann remains the main antagonist for whole of KotFE. Zuko didn't start a war and didn't participate in conquest of other nations too much, his main goal was to capture the Avatar so to restore his honor (and deserve his father's forgiveness). Honestly, I think it's safe to say the Zuko is one of two main protagonists of ATLA. Why does Arcann want to capture the Outlander? Solely because his father's spirit still lives inside this person's mind, and the best solution to keep Valkorion away from the galaxy is not letting the Outlander free (hence the carbonite freezing). And Arcann doesn't want or need Valkorion's forgiveness when he attempts to kill him (or kills him, depending on your choice. anyway, his action directly leads to Valkorion's "death"). And right after that he becomes a ruler of Zakuul and begins the conquest of Republic, Sith Empire and everything he can reach (the reasoning behind this is still unclear to me though; maybe because he was raised with ruling Zakuul in mind and he didn't anything else, idk). Point is, he's responsible for war and main's character imprisonment, which makes him the main antagonist of KotFE. They have it the opposite ways - Zuko starts as disgraced prince, supported by a little group of people, and in the end he's recognized and appreciated by his nation, and Arcann starts as respected by his empire, later becoming less and less loved, until some groups start rebelling his rule, and in the end he doesn't get to rule Zakuul again.

This leads me to their morals. See, Zuko didn't have the worst morals in Fire Nation, even more, he expressed care for loyals soldiers of his nation before getting punished by Ozai. During first season (and about a half of second one) his views on other nations are what he was taught before. However, these views are challenged by travelling in Earth Kingdom, witnessing people suffering from war Fire Nation started and hating its people (you already know all of this), and with this he comes through final stage of redemption when he's back home. Unfortunately, Arcann doesn't go through this, and he's shown to be more ruthless.

Alright, when it comes to their redemption arcs, well let's say they are different (both in quality and the way they go through it), I'm just a bit tired of long explanations at this point. Zuko's arc is one of the best ever put on television, and Arcann's... well, it definitely has potential, but is criminally underdeveloped (there are other people who will explain it better than I ever could).

What's similar: role of disgraced son, living in shadow of their sibling, serious injuries on the left side of face (though with different meanings), obsession with capturing the main character, having a redemption arc.

What's different: role in the narrative, role in their society, characterization, relationship with sister and mother, different end goals (before redemption), paths to redemption.

[cherry-valentine]

Spring 2021 Anime Season

Mars Red is one of two series this season set in one of my favorite periods, the Meiji era. It’s a vampire series that deals a lot with the politics of war as the Japanese military is attempting to establish a vampire unit, supposedly to compete with the British vampire unit (because of course that’s a thing). It focuses on a human military officer named Maeda who is charged with recruiting and managing vampires. Maeda is the type of character I really enjoy. Handsome, a little older than most anime protagonists, chain-smoking, overly serious, and voiced by Junichi Suwabe (who has to have the sexiest voice in all of anime). The series has a classic, romantic feel to it. Its take on vampires is somewhat traditional (they evaporate in the sun, drink blood, sleep in coffins, have super strength and speed, etc.). If it brings anything new to the table, it’s the concept of vampires having different ranks, from S-class down, and how lower ranks naturally fear higher ranks. Still yet, the classic vibe works in the show’s favor. Combined with the historical setting, it gives the show a certain charm. The art is lovely, from the backgrounds to the character designs, and the music is a high point. It easily has the best ending theme of the season.

Fumetsu no Anata e (To Your Eternity) is a unique series. I’ve seen a lot of people comparing it to Mushishi, but with an overarching plot, and that assessment is pretty accurate. The show follows an entity that comes to be known as Fushi. It begins as an orb, and as it makes contact with other objects and creatures, it learns from them and can possibly take their forms. Among the forms it most often takes are a white wolf and a young man. Originally, it’s a somewhat empty shell, incapable of communicating, but as it meets different creatures and learns, it develops a personality and begins to speak. The series is, overall, about Fushi’s journey through this world and all the experiences it gains, both wonderful and tragic. There’s a subtle beauty to the series, with an early focus on nature, but it also has scenes of trauma and violence. The animation is fluid and the facial expressions are amazing. There’s an overall natural feel to it that, like others have pointed out, reminds me of Mushishi (though it’s definitely faster paced than Mushishi). The show also likes to make you cry, so keep that in mind.

Joran: The Princess of Snow and Blood is the other series set in the Meiji era this season, albeit an alternate version of it that has a strange form of technology. To be honest, I’m a little fuzzy on some of the details, but it seems to be about a group called the Nue who work for the government to fight against a growing rebellion. The main character is Sawa, a member of Nue who has some sort of special powers involving her blood, which allow her to transform and battle monsters, or whatever else stands in her way. Her goal is to get revenge for the death of her entire clan (implied to be wiped out because of their power). Sawa is a decent heroine, a woman who craves vengeance and is determined to get it through any means, but is, at her core, a compassionate person who would rather live in peace. It’s this internal conflict that makes Sawa compelling (even if it’s not entirely original). The other characters are interesting, particularly Tsuki, whom I won’t talk much about because it would involve spoilers. The plot and details can get a little convoluted, but the action and animation are solid. When Sawa transforms, the art style changes, and it’s a really cool visual effect. The music is also nice.

Shaman King received a remake this season. I was a huge fan of the original, and so far I’m enjoying the remake, but to be honest, I’m having trouble seeing the point. The art is almost the same (just a lot shinier), the voice actors are the same, the plot is the same. Maybe it’s just that it’s been so long since I saw the original, I’m unable to remember the details and so I can’t tell what’s different. But to me it feels like I’m just rewatching the show. Which is fine, because I loved it to begin with. Maybe it gets different later on. Maybe it more closely follows the manga. I’ll keep watching to find out. For anyone new to the series, it looks like the remake is a solid place to start if you want to get into it. I won’t go into plot details for a story this old, so I’ll just say it’s a top tier shounen fighting series with a unique art style and some very memorable characters. If you like that sort of thing, and missed the original (or you just want a refresher), definitely check it out!

Godzilla Singular Point is a true delight. I’m a huge Godzilla (and kaiju in general) fan. I’ve watched every single Godzilla movie, as well as all the related movies (the Mothra films, Rodan, etc.), but I never watched the previous Godzilla anime that was on Netflix a few years ago. It just didn’t sound like something I’d like. Singular Point, however, is right up my alley. Set mainly in a small seaside town that’s suddenly attacked by bird-like monsters known as Rodans, we have two geeky protagonists using their intelligence to figure out what’s going on while more and more monsters appear. Mei and Yun are excellent heroes. They rely on their wits rather than physical strength, which is a refreshing approach. It’s also interesting that they have little to no face-to-face interaction. Instead, they chat with each other via text as they work separately. They often challenge each other with science questions. It’s adorable. The show’s overall feel is fairly upbeat and energetic. The colorful art and peppy character designs by Kazue Kato (who did Blue Exorcist) help with this feel. It should be noted that Godzilla himself doesn’t fully appear until halfway through the series. It says a lot about the quality of the show that I don’t actually mind that at all. Some of the science stuff does go over my head, but the general plot is easy enough to follow and the action is very well done. It also has fantastic music, with my favorite opening theme of the season. Even if Godzilla isn’t your thing, consider giving this series a shot if you like nerdy science types as heroes.

Burning Kabaddi is a sports anime about an unsual sport. I’d never heard of it before now, and if people in the comments were not talking about the very real sport, I would have assumed it was made up for the anime. The show is aware that the sport is obscure, so it takes great pains to explain the rules and details so that we can all follow the action. The story centers on Yoigoshi, a soccer prodigy who decides to drop all sports once he gets to high school due to all the drama and angst that surrounded him (mostly due to his teammates being jealous of his talent), and pursue a career as a streamer. All the various sports clubs at the school want to recruit him (especially the soccer club, of course) because they’ve heard of his skill and he has an athletic build. He rejects them all, but the Kabaddi club is strangely relentless. He ends up being manipulated into joining (the vice captain of the team straight up blackmails him by threatening to show his online streaming account to the whole school). Despite this rocky beginning, Yoigoshi actually starts to enjoy playing Kabaddi, and more importantly, begins to bond with his new teammates. It’s pretty fun stuff that doesn’t take itself too seriously. The art is serviceable for a sports anime and the music is fine. The series isn’t going to blow your mind, but it’s a fun way to spend twenty minutes every week. Worth a watch if you have a weakness for hot blooded sports anime.

The World Ends With You finally got its anime adaptation and I was so excited. The game is one of my all-time favorites. So far the anime is pretty good. The art is a near perfect replication of the bold, thick-lined art of the game. The battles are exciting and cool. Best of all, the anime often uses music from the game. This is important because the game has one of the best soundtracks, ever. Every time I recognize a song from the game, I almost squeal. If I had a complaint, it’s that the pacing feels a little off at times. It feels like the anime is rushing through the story, but that’s understandable. In the game, it took longer for everything to happen because you were walking from place to place, fighting battles along the way, stopping to scan NPC’s, shopping at stores, spending time in menus, etc. The anime has to cut most of that out, so naturally things are going to move faster. The result is that you don’t get to spend as much time with these characters, and so you feel less attached to them. Anyone watching the anime who didn’t play the game might feel like the emotional beats are lacking. I feel like this anime is definitely meant to be enjoyed by fans of the game, rather than newcomers to the story. But if you are a fan of the game? You should be watching this every week. It’s an excellent refresher on the story, just in time for the second game to come out this summer. Super high on my watch list.

Boku no Hero Academia has a new season. To be honest I don’t remember what number we’re on. This season, so far, focuses on a tournament-style competition between the two main hero classes. I would much prefer the plot to move on to something more exciting involving the villains, but I suppose they have to throw arcs like this in every so often just to remind everyone of which characters have which quirks. The plus point is that instead of being an individual competition, it’s team-based. What this ultimately means is that characters that are viewed as weaker or having more obscure quirks actually get a chance to shine. These are characters who definitely aren’t going to win one-on-one battles. In an individual tournament, it’s pretty much a given that characters like Deku, Bakugou, and Todoroki are going to win most of the matches. But in a team, everyone has to work together. The end result is that the lady characters, all of whom have fairly weak or situational quirks, finally FINALLY get to actually do stuff! Even better, in several of the match-ups, the girls have taken the lead in planning and strategizing. It’s been pretty nice to watch. The girls from the other class have been very proactive as well. I really wish the girls could do more in “real” battles with villains, since it’s clear that they can step up when they need to. Who knows? Maybe this is a sign of good things to come.

86 is a new mecha/sci-fi anime based on a series of light novels. The setup is fairly cool: In a country where everyone has silver hair and eyes, the people live in what looks like a utopia. There is a war going on outside their protected land but all combat is performed by automated robots, so there are no human casualties... or so the government would have the people believe. In reality, there is a district that exists on the outskirts of the country called 86, where people who don’t have silver hair and eyes are sent to pilot the robots and fight to protect the country that shunned them. Most of the pilots are children or teenagers. The mortality rate is high. Only a few people in the government know of their existence, mostly military types that include “handlers”. These handlers each take on an 86 unit and communicate with them through a system called “para-raid”. Using this, they monitor the battlefield from their safe positions and issue commands. Naturally, most handlers view their units as nothing more than tools in the war, and most 86-ers view their handlers as privileged snobs who know nothing of actual battle. The real plot kicks in when Lena, a young Major, becomes the new handler for a particular 86 unit. Lena is sympathetic to the people of 86, but it’s going to be hard getting her notoriously rough unit to accept her. The plot is a bit complicated and the show deals with some weighty themes (racism, privilege, war, child soldiers, death). Lena is a likable enough heroine and the members of 86 are all interesting and fairly well written. The music is fine. The art... well, it’s pretty to look at, but it feels a bit generic to me. A bit too shiny. The mecha designs are great, but I’m not crazy about the character designs, which feel like they could be from any other modern anime. I also find it sad but hilarious at the same time that the women’s military uniforms are clearly designed for fanservice (they include mini skirts, thigh-highs with garters, and a short jacket that opens up just above the chest to show the tight shirt underneath) while the men’s uniforms are just totally normal military wear. To be honest it’s just too stupid to actually be offensive, so it comes across as comical. Thankfully, the interesting setup and plot carry the show, making it good enough to overlook the generic visuals.

Moriarty the Patriot has a new season... maybe? I think it’s technically still season one, but with a split cour. Regardless, it feels like a new season so I’m treating it as such. The series focuses on famous Sherlock antagonist Moriarty, here represented as a trio of handsome brothers (though one of them is clearly the protagonist and the leader of the group) who work as “crime consultants” and basically help the lower classes wage class warfare against the nobility. This season shifts the focus away from the individual crimes Moriarty concocts and instead focuses on larger-scale conflicts that involve government conspiracies, corrupt cops, etc. We’re also treated to a lady James Bond (finally!), fixing one of the very few complaints I had about the first cour (that it lacked strong lady characters). The show remains very compelling, with beautiful art and excellent new opening and ending themes.

Best of Season:

Best New Show: Godzilla Singular Point

Best Opening Theme: Godzilla Singular Point

Best Ending Theme: Mars Red

Best New Male Character: Maeda (Mars Red)

Best New Female Character: Sawa (Joran)

[bloodfromthethorn]

Misunderstandings

Their partnership might have gotten off to a bad start, but Mac has a good feeling about Jack Dalton - right up until he messes it all up, that is.

Or, the time Jack learns about Mac's fear of heights and it's still not the most important realisation he has that day.

Also on AO3

..

Mac had never really been sure quite what he expected from Afghanistan and now, six months in, he still wasn’t particularly confident on exactly what it was he had found. It certainly hadn’t been easy, and he’d already managed to experience the most profound loss he’d felt since the death of his grandpa, but there was still something undeniably… compelling about it all. The way he could fall into an uncomfortable bed at the end of the day exhausted but with the bone-deep knowledge that the work he had done was important, had made a difference. That there were people walking around out there, living their lives, because of the things that he had done.

It wasn’t good, precisely, but it wasn’t all bad either.

Jack was a wrench in the works. They couldn’t have gotten off to a poorer start and for a hairy moment there, Mac had been convinced that the next two months of his life were really going to be hell on earth. Jack was loud-mouthed, crass, opinionated, and had some of the worst taste in both music and film known to man. He had little to no regard for anyone else’s opinion of him and he was more than ready to settle a fight with his fists if he thought the situation called for it.

He was also probably the best soldier Mac had ever met.

It might have taken them some time to get traction but after the first few rocky missions, they’d both managed to settle down just enough to actually get a good look at one another. What Mac had found was nothing like what he’d expected.

For one, Jack was very, very good at his job. A crack shot, backed up with a keenly tactical mind that went far beyond anything Mac had been taught at basic. He’d never asked to see Jack’s file – and given that he was almost certain the man had been an Alphabet at some point, he’d probably get denied even if he tried – but he had a feeling that the record would be long, expansive, and impressive. He knew far too much about soldiering to not have been doing it most of his life and he handled a vast range of weaponry with too much familiarity to have always been saddled with Overwatch duties.

No, somewhere in his past, Jack had been crafted into an immense force to be reckoned with. He might tell jokes, laugh loudly, and act the fool, but buried underneath it all was something dangerous just waiting to be unleashed. It should have been scary – and in a distant, sort-of-intrigued kind of way, it was – but mostly Mac was just impressed. Whatever else he might have done, Jack had decided to use his extensive training to serve the purpose of protecting EOD technicians in a place where there were enemies at every corner.

More than anything, Jack made him feel safe . Safe in a way he hadn’t truly felt since watching Peña die barely twenty feet from him. After so long in the Sandbox, constantly having to watch his back as his hands took apart contraptions designed to kill him, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be out from under that constant cloud of dread. Jack gave him that freedom and Mac couldn’t help but be hopelessly thankful for it.

Of course, increasing familiarity aside, it wasn’t perfect. Two men trapped in very close quarters in a high stress environment were occasionally going to butt heads no matter what, and Mac wasn’t naive enough to think they’d be an exception.

Jack had been waylaid by a messenger as soon as the pair of them arrived back on base, both already worn out from a long, overly hot day in the sun. In an act of mercy, he’d waved Mac off to go on ahead in an attempt to spare him whatever bureaucratic nonsense was likely about to come his way – an assumption that was almost immediately proved accurate when three minutes later Mac saw him stalking off in the direction of the command centre.

He didn’t think much of it; Jack was perpetually being pulled in by the brass for reasons he was never particularly keen to explain. When directly asked, he’d always brushed it off with some sarcastic comment about how people just couldn’t get enough of his charm, but the hardness in his eyes had stopped Mac from trying to press further. If anything, it only added to his growing surety that Jack was a far more important person than he wanted to appear. Nothing Mac was doing was of particular note to anyone beyond what command already learned through his reports, but if someone with extensive training in observation and tactics was given free rein to roam the area under the radar for the sole purpose of watching what was going on – like, say, an Explosive Ordnance Disposal Overwatch – then that opened up a whole new avenue of surveillance.

If he’d had to bet, Mac would have said that according to the letter of Jack’s job description, keeping him safe was a secondary consideration at best. Fortunate, then, that the man himself didn’t seem like the type of person to do anything halfway.

Today, though, something was different. On the way back to base, Jack had been relaxed and easy, content as always to fill in Mac’s silence with a running commentary of his own about what he was most looking forward to when he got back to Texas, but clearly whatever had happened in the command tent had thrown that off. When he finally stomped into the dorm over an hour later, his brow was shadowed and tense, and he didn’t even acknowledge Mac’s presence as he grabbed a clean set of fatigues and headed for the showers.

Sitting cross legged on his bunk with his gear spread out before him, Mac watched him go with troubled eyes. Jack, as anyone in their situation did, occasionally had off days when he was less talkative and clearly wanted to be left alone, but Mac had never seen him turn on a dime quite so quickly.

Truthfully, Mac hadn’t thought him the type. But, he reminded himself forcefully, he still barely knew the man and regardless, it almost certainly wasn’t any of his business. Far better to just keep going through his kit, cataloguing anything he needed to replace or repair, and let Jack work through whatever his problem was on his own; if he wanted to talk to Mac about it, he knew where to find him.

Despite his preoccupation, Mac did end up immersed in his task. Kit checks were dull but important, and he was fastidious enough to make sure he did the job right every single time. As an EOD tech, he was lucky – everyone else had to do mandatory checks before and after any excursions outside of the FOB, no matter how frequent they may be. Officially EOD specialists were supposed to do the same but in deference to their unpredictable schedule and unique loadouts, command typically waived the usual report requirements and let them do their own thing. He was still liable to be disciplined should he get spot checked and fail, but he had a lot more freedom than most people on the base.

He was about halfway through when Jack made his reappearance, freshly washed but looking no happier for it. He dropped his dirty laundry in a heap next to his trunk and flopped down onto his bunk without a word, reaching out a few moments later to fiddle with the ancient radio beside him. He’d told Mac some time ago that he’d inherited it from his dad and it was clear from the reverence with which he spoke about it that it was deeply important to him. Important enough, apparently, that no one else sharing their tent complained when he had it blasting out whatever station he could pick up, even with the god awful crackle that all but drowned out any actual words that might try to come through.

The crackle that was evidently getting worse, going off the horrendous screech the radio let out the moment it was turned on. Mac flinched sharply at the sudden noise, but didn’t protest. Jack, if anything, looked more pissed off at the continued buzzing no matter how he adjusted the dials, rasping and hissing in turns but never letting any clear audio through. After listening to Jack cursing under his breath for a minute or two, Mac figured it was about time he offered a hand.

“That’s not sounding too good,” he pointed out unnecessarily, keeping his voice light. “Want me to take a look?”

“It’s fine,” was the short response, bitten out and frustrated.

Mac rolled his eyes, not catching the warning edge of Jack’s tone. “Look, I know I promised I wouldn’t touch any of your stuff again, but if you let me have a look, I can probably fix it.”

It was an honest offer – the radio was hardly a complicated bit of kit and Mac was pretty sure he already knew exactly what the issue was. If he was right, he could have it fixed inside of five minutes and he wouldn’t even need to cannibalise parts from anything else to do it. Sure the rule might have been that Mac couldn’t touch Jack’s gear again, but they’d been forced to relax that within a week of working together and recently it had felt more like an in-joke than anything.

Apparently, Jack didn’t feel the same.

“Or you’d just break it down for parts like you do with everything else,” he shot back acidly and for the first time, Mac realised the heaviness in Jack’s gaze wasn’t simple fatigue or irritation; he looked pissed . “Yeah, thanks but no thanks. Keep away from my stuff.”

Mac blinked. The words themselves were surprising, but it was the tone that really cut at him; sarcastic and unfriendly and mean . Mocking in a way that Jack often pretended to be when he was trying to lighten the mood, only this time neither of them was laughing. He looked dead serious.

“I-uh,” Mac said haltingly, forcing himself to suddenly adjust his entire perspective on the conversation. He really had just been trying to help. “Right,” he said after an awkward pause. “Sorry.”

He ducked his head and turned back to the gear spread out across his bunk, wishing fiercely he hadn’t bothered to open his mouth in the first place. Cleaning and sorting his kit had suddenly become a much less enthralling task – and it hadn’t exactly been the highlight of his day to begin with – but he kept his eyes down and vehemently forbade his attention from wandering back to his partner.

Less than a minute later, Jack let out a sharp sigh that might have included a curse, and stomped out of the tent. Mac refused to look up.

They didn’t talk about it. The next morning the pair of them loaded into their transport for the day – for once they’d been gifted an MRAP that in any other situation Jack would probably be crowing about – in stony silence that persisted straight through until evening. The only time Jack deigned to talk to him was for mission-critical comms, almost all of which was delivered via radio in a blank monotone that made it abundantly clear how little he actually wanted to be speaking with him. Mac surprised himself by how fiercely he found he missed the usual inane commentary in his ear.

None of it made sense.

Evidently he’d messed up somehow, done something that crossed a line he hadn’t seen, although he had no idea what it could possibly have been. Okay, yes, the radio was obviously important to Jack on some personal level Mac wasn’t allowed access to and maybe he really didn’t want Mac touching it. That was completely fair – Mac wouldn’t have argued against him at all if the man had just said ‘no’ and left it there. Instead his response had been- Well. There were a lot of words Mac could use to describe it and he didn’t really want to confront any of them.

It wouldn’t change the result either way. Mac had a sneaking suspicion that whatever it was he had broken had been something irreparable, especially if Jack wasn’t even going to let him talk it out.

The closest they came to it that day was during their last call-out for the evening, a surprisingly tricky little device some asshole had planted outside of a shop known to serve US soldiers. A bit of petty revenge most likely, but packing enough explosives to level the building and take out anyone unlucky enough to be standing within a twenty metre radius.

“Everyone within half a block of you is gettin’ out of dodge,” Jack reported about half an hour after their arrival. “No sign of whoever put that thing there.”

Mac digested that, doing a quick mental calculation to decide if the evacuation zone was large enough and ultimately deciding that it was. “Good. You set up somewhere?”

“Behind you, thirty metres back.”

There was a tell-tale tickle on the back of his neck that Mac had come to associate with Jack’s scope passing over him. At the start of their partnership it had made him uncomfortable; now, it was distantly reassuring. A part of him wanted to turn around to make sure of Jack’s position himself, but he knew that was sure to piss Jack off even more – he always got jumpy about Mac indicating his position whenever they were out in the field.

“I’m going to be a while,” he said instead of cracking a joke. “This thing’s complicated.”

“Fast as you can.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was a telling silence where a sarcastic retort would normally sit, and Mac had to pause for a second to remind himself that the IED in front of him needed his attention far more than his own unimportant tribulations. It wasn’t until another ten minutes had passed that he spoke again. “Okay, I’ve figured out what I’ve got to do, but I’m going to need some of your gum.”

He said it mostly without thinking, too used to being able to just state what he needed and for Jack to freely offer up whatever it was, albeit with some bellyaching about having to give up his stuff. The words were already out of his mouth before he remembered how vehemently Jack had been against Mac being anywhere near his personal possessions just yesterday.

Fortunately, Jack seemed to understand the urgency of the situation, because he simply sighed before saying, “Copy that. On my way to you.”

He didn’t offer any further protest when he appeared at Mac’s back either, handing over the stick of gum without a word, then hunkering down in the alleyway to keep watch with his rifle balanced on his knee. It was strangely normal for all that had come before, except for the silence that still hung over them like a cloud.

Exhausted, and with bigger things to focus on, Mac just went about his job and didn’t say another word.

Jack’s mood continued over the next few days, with little sign of abating. It would have been much easier to bear if Mac had any clue what exactly had triggered it beyond the vague sense that this was all somehow his fault, but it wasn’t like he could just walk up to the man and ask. Any time he’d even thought about striking up conversation or doing anything to try to make peace, Jack’s responses had been sharp and to the point. He didn’t want to talk, that much was clear, and Mac was nothing if not a quick learner.

After the first day of strained silence, he figured it was better to just keep his mouth shut and stay out of Jack’s way.

One thing he hadn’t really counted on was how strange it would feel now to be wandering around base on his own. Since being paired up with Jack, he’d hardly had a minute to himself – the man took his Overwatch duties very seriously even in the relative safety of the FOB – but now he was apparently free to roam as he pleased. Almost as soon as they returned to base each day, Jack took himself off to places unknown with a determined sort of look on his face and usually didn’t reappear again until he fell into bed beside Mac’s at night. Mac very firmly did not think about what that said about Jack’s newly-discovered ambivalence towards his safety. Now, after only a month of that partnership, it felt almost unnatural to be alone again.

At the very least it meant that he was free to go and eat whenever he felt like it, rather than having to bend around Jack’s schedule. It was that line of reasoning that had him heading towards the mess that evening, late enough to miss the main crowd who piled in at 7 but too early to run into the late shift teams who had a second run at things once the night had drawn in. The approach meant that he could count on getting a good table with minimal interference, but it did mean sacrificing any chance of getting decently hot food. The ‘buffet’, such as it was, would be topped up with fresh food at about 10, but for now Mac was stuck with the dried out, cooling remains that no one else had wanted earlier.

He nodded at the woman KP duty, earning an apologetic smile at the state of the food in return, then glanced around the marquee to find somewhere to sit. 

A group of camp runners were huddled together in the corner, loudly engaging in a round of ‘I have it worse than you’, but otherwise the place was pretty deserted. With his pick of the tables, Mac settled himself down as far from the runners as he could get, hoping for a little bit of peace, but with no other nearby noise to drown them out, their voices washed over him all the same. They’d taken no notice of his presence beyond a quick check to make sure he wasn’t wearing officer’s stripes and in the absence of any authority, they seemed quite content to air their grievances to anyone close enough to listen.

For the most part he studiously ignored them – he had exactly zero interest in the minutiae of memos being passed around the base – and went about the business of choking down the cold food in front of him quickly enough to avoid its bland flavour. 

It wasn’t until he heard a familiar name that he automatically tuned back into the conversation across from him.

“ Please ,” One of the runners was scoffing with an imperial hand wave, “As if Carter is anything to worry about. I’m the one who had to tell Dalton his reassignment request was denied. Thought he was going to take my head off when I said I didn’t know why.”

Mac froze in place, the rest of the discussion fading completely into the background as all the pieces of the puzzle he had been building snapped into place with painful efficiency. So that was why Jack had been so grouchy over the last week, why he’d been so sharp whenever Mac had tried to make conversation: he’d put in a transfer request to get away from him and been shot down. Jack wanted to leave and couldn’t. Of course.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Mac knew how he could come across, had seen how people reacted to all the weird quirks of his personality, and Jack would hardly be the first person in the world to take one look at him and start heading for the hills – hell, he’d barely crack the top hundred. And yet, despite all of that, all of his previous experience warning him that anyone could leave at any time for any reason, Mac still found himself caught wholly off guard.

He'd thought they’d been getting better. Sure, it wasn’t like they were close and half the time they could still barely stand each other, but more and more that had felt like an act they were putting on to avoid revealing they didn’t actually mind each other all that much after all. Clearly he’d been wildly wrong in that assumption. What he’d thought was increasing camaraderie was- what? Nothing but his imagination? Or maybe an attempt on Jack’s part to show the brass that he really had given their partnership an honest shot before trying to bail?

Worse than the simple rejection was how deeply unnecessary it felt. As Mac had so often been reminded, Jack only had twenty-eight days left of his tour before he was headed home for good and none of this would even matter anymore. Was he truly so unhappy with Mac’s partnership that he was going to go through the arduous process of reassignment for the sake of four weeks? He’d just had to stick it out for one more month and he would have been free and clear, and yet somehow that was still too much.

It might have been insulting if it hadn’t been so fucking painful.

But this wasn’t the place for that. None of these were revelations he should be having in the mess hall, in full view of anyone who cared to look in his direction. He shook himself forcefully, surprised to realise that his entire body had gone rigid while his mind raced in all directions, and made himself climb to his feet. There was still some food left on his plate but if it had been unappetising before, now it was positively nausea-inducing. Mac knew he wasn’t getting any of it down his throat without it making a reappearance sooner or later, so he quietly chucked the scraps in the bin, returned his tray, and retreated to the barracks as quickly as he possibly could without drawing attention.

Two of the guys were there, both camped out on their own bunks as they occupied themselves with whatever they got up to in their downtime, but neither did more than nod in acknowledgement as he made his way past them to his own bed. Truthfully, he was glad of the pseudo-privacy. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would have done if Jack had been there – most likely he would have said something regrettable – but in his absence, Mac was free to mull over this new information without interference.

A large, loud part of him demanded that he go and find Dalton right now so they could hash this out, get it all out in the open so that at the very least Mac wouldn’t have to feel so fucking stupid for ever thinking they might have been friends. He’d seen that Jack cultivated a very deliberate amiability with the other guys sharing their bunk, even if they weren’t all on the best terms, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought for even a second that his Overwatch might be turning the same trick on him. He’d been so goddamn stupid .

Another, much quieter and injured part of him kept insisting that he must have gotten something twisted, connected the wrong wires to the wrong ports, and really this was all some big misunderstanding because he couldn’t bear the alternative.

He ignored them both. As much as he might want not want it to be true, he knew what he’d heard and all the pieces fit together too perfectly for him to have somehow misconstrued their meaning. His own feelings did not affect the facts, and he’d do well to remember that. And fighting with Jack wasn’t going to solve anything, it was just going to upset what little balance they managed to actually maintain. Despite his best efforts, Dalton’s transfer request had been denied so he wasn’t going anywhere for another month – Mac could grin and bear the discomfort until then, even if it meant having to sit next to a man he’d thought a friend for every single one of those twenty-eight days.

The humiliation of it all was almost unbearable, and he knew just how easy it would be to let it become rage instead – but he wouldn’t do that. If Jack wanted to leave then he wouldn’t be the first, which meant the fault almost certainly lay with Mac and there was no point trying to punish the wrong man for it. Sure, Jack pretending they were getting along was kind of a low blow, but it was understandable; they were stuck together in extremely close quarters, might as well act like they were comfortable there, right?

Maybe Jack had had the right idea all along. Mac was the one who hadn’t gotten with the programme already.

Besides, he reminded himself firmly as he bit down on the emotions threatening to get away from him, he hadn’t signed up to be sent into an active warzone to defuse explosives to feel safe . It didn’t matter one jot that Jack had managed to give him that for a time – that wasn’t his job and Mac didn’t have any right to mourn its loss. He needed to grow the fuck up and stop looking to others to protect him – he was a soldier in the US army and it was high fucking time he started acting like it.

With a tight sigh, Mac forced his stressed body to relax and flattened himself against his bunk, glaring a hole in the canvas above him.

Just twenty-eight days, and he could be done with this mess. Four weeks. He could do that.

Despite the bedlam going on inside his head, the heat and the shade must have got the best of him because he was jolted out of a doze an hour or so later by Jack Dalton himself smacking at his foot. He twitched the limb out of range with a muffled grunt of disapproval before his brain caught up with him and he remembered everything that had transpired before he fell asleep. The faux-irritated expression he’d pulled on crumbled instantly into blankness.

Jack blinked down at him, a bemused smirk on his face. Cuttingly, it was the friendliest he had looked in days. “What happened to you?”

Mac frowned, tried to do a quick mental assessment of what he probably looked like. “What?”

“You look like someone kicked your puppy. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Did you wake me up for a reason?”

His Overwatch’s smirk faded somewhat, his eyes taking on that calculating look he normally got a few seconds before he said something much smarter and more observant than Mac would ever have credited him with when they first met. It was almost a relief – focused was a much easier expression to react to than a smile. “Seriously. What’s happened?”

“ Nothing ,” Mac stressed, trying and failing to keep a thread of annoyance out of his tone. “Do you need me for something or can I go back to sleep?”

It wasn’t the right answer, evidently. Jack’s face darkened and he thinned his lips against what was very visibly going to be an annoyed outburst, but in the end all he said was, “On your feet. We’re heading out.”

That was- unusual. He cast a quick glance at the clock. “Now? It’s going to be dark in a few hours.”

“Yeah well, tell that to the T-men. C’mon, get up. I wanna roll out in five.” With that he retreated to his own bunk to retrieve his equipment and resolutely ignored Mac.

Still confused and really wishing that he could just roll over and go back to sleep if only to avoid what was obviously going to be another uncomfortable Humvee ride, Mac obligingly scrambled to his feet and started pulling out his own gear. For all the little bits and pieces of equipment they had to keep track of, both of them kept their packs ready to go at a moment’s notice, so it was really only a matter of slipping on his jacket and vest, then stopping by the mess to refill his water bottle and grab a few energy bars before Mac found himself sliding into the passenger seat of the Humvee. Apparently more prepared than he had been, Jack was already waiting for him.

“Got a bit of a situation a few klicks out,” He announced once Mac was settled. “Looks like someone’s trying to sabotage our communications – a scout team thinks they’ve found an IED on one of our radio towers. Shouldn’t be anything too complicated for you, but there’s a lot of visibility and no cover so we need to get this done ASAP, understand? The scouts are patrolling the area and I’ll have your back, but someone might try to get lucky with a sniper, so keep your head down .”

There was a lot there to work through – most importantly just what Jack meant by on the radio tower – but he didn’t bother voicing any of those questions. He’d see the situation soon enough and his priority needed to be elsewhere. “Did the scout team say what type of device we’re dealing with?”

“Negative. Couldn’t get a good look without approaching and they figured that probably wasn’t a good idea.”

They had likely been correct in that assumption, but it didn’t make Mac’s job any easier. Approaching an unidentified device was nothing new to him, but it wasn’t something that gelled well with the speed at which Jack was evidently hoping this was going to go. If he rushed anything for fear of being shot, he ran a much higher risk of blowing the pair of them up and doing the terrorists’ job for them.

As promised, it wasn’t a long trip and within ten minutes they came to a stop in the gathering gloom, about a hundred metres away from the tower in question. The 150-metre-tall tower. God, this was not going to go well.

“When you said the device was on the tower,” He started slowly, his eyes darting around the ground supports he could see and coming up blank, “You actually meant on , huh?”

Jack snickered, either not noticing or not caring about the thread of uncertainty Mac could feel in his voice. “Hope you’re ready for some climbing.” He paused, then relented slightly by adding, “We don’t have to go the whole way. Report said it was about half way up. There’s a platform for maintenance work.”

If he had noticed the apprehension, evidently he was assuming that Mac just didn’t feel like climbing up there with all his gear dragging him down. Technically he wasn’t wrong about that – he’d just missed the why. Mac wilfully held in a shudder.

“Now, normally I’d say you should wait down here while I go up and see what I can see, but given how open this is, neither of us can risk being up there that long,” Jack said, catching him with one of his no nonsense looks. Dalton might act the fool, but he was still a highly trained army sergeant and despite everything, when he gave orders, Mac would listen. “So we’re going to go up together, okay? You’re going to keep your head down and you’re going to get that device handled as quickly as you can. We’ve not got much daylight left to work with and torches are going to be a dead giveaway of our position, so unless you desperately need more light, you keep it off. Understand?”

“Got it.”

This would really be the time to tell Jack that the very thought of going up that tower was enough to make Mac feel physically nauseous – the man was his Overwatch, he needed to know when Mac couldn’t do his job – but he bit his tongue. There was a bomb somewhere up there and he was the only person in a ten klick radius who had any chance of defusing it. His personal discomfort was nothing against the lives that could be lost should their communications chain fail.

With that in mind, he slipped out of the Humvee and shadowed Jack as he strode towards the tower, not letting himself pause to think before putting his foot on the first rung of the ladder and hoisting himself up.

Here goes nothing .

Something was off with Mac. Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on it, exactly, but he was good at reading people and he’d been watching every single move his bomb nerd made for a solid month now so he had a pretty good idea when something wasn’t right. Right now, hunched over a bomb 250 feet in the air, something was very definitely not okay .

The kid had been quiet for days, wrapped up in his own head about something or other judging by the deeply thoughtful face he’d been wearing, but it had meshed well enough with Jack’s own pisspoor mood that he hadn’t bothered to question it. Mac hadn’t seemed anything more than a little subdued, something any soldier downwind was bound to encounter now and again. Their work was hard and the constant threat of danger could weigh anyone down given enough time. Now though? Now it seemed like more.

Admittedly, the whole bomb-250-feet-in-the-air situation might have been a contributing factor, but Mac had faced down hundreds of IEDs in their time together and he’d never once flinched. Whether he was the bravest man Jack had ever met or he just genuinely had no regard for his own wellbeing was something Jack was still trying to figure out, but the point was, he shouldn’t be acting like this. The situation was far from perfect and every second they spent on that tower had Jack’s anxiety levels ratcheting up, but Mac had always kept a level head.

“How’s it coming over there?”

Mac let out a low grumble of sound, his usual stand-in for when he had too many things going on in his head to worry about actual words.

“That well, huh? Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re running out of daylight so if you wanna-”

“Rushing me isn’t helping,” Mac interrupted before Jack had a chance to finish, carefully pulling a now-disconnected wire from the bundle he had been examining.

“Ain’t trying to rush you, just letting you know-”

“Yeah, well, it’s not helping.”

Jack had worked with plenty of EOD techs who would have given him that response and it would have been the most normal thing in the world. With Mac, it was a glaring red flag. Well, that, as well as the fact that Mac hadn’t even bothered to correct Jack’s repeated assertions that they were perched on a radio mast, when he knew good and well it was actually a telecommunications tower. Momentarily lifting his head away from his rifle scope, trusting that the scouts could hold the fort for the next minute or two, Jack turned to stare at his partner. “What’s going on man?”

“I’m concentrating .”

“I’ve seen you concentrating plenty. That’s not what this is. C’mon, you’ve been weird since this afternoon – is this about the other day? ‘Cause I didn’t mean to snap at you and I’m sorry about that, but right now I need to know that you’re good to do this job.”

Mac huffed a sharp breath out of his nose in frustration, his eyes not leaving the place where he was carefully prying apart the panels of the device’s container. It wasn’t until then that Jack finally noticed the way the kid’s shoulders were up around his ears, his whole body rigid where he was hunched over. His hands didn’t shake in the slightest – a necessity in his line of work – but the rest of him was shuddering with fine tremors.

“Mac-” Jack started, alarms blaring to life in his head. He’d known something was wrong , but clearly he had deeply misjudged just how wrong until he’d actually taken the time to look. Goddamn, he was supposed to the kid’s fucking Overwatch! “I need you to talk to me man.”

There was no response so Jack put his eye back to his scope for another quick scan of the surrounding landscape – still as barren and unoccupied as before – before sliding the rifle strap back over his shoulder and turning fully to face his partner. He was far too well versed in working with EOD to ever touch Mac when he had his hands on an IED, but he only had to wait a few seconds before Mac backed up to fiddle with the tools on his knife and he was free to snatch him by the shoulder and forcibly turn him around.

“Jack, what-”

“Something’s going on with you and we are in way too dangerous a position right now for me to not know what it is so start fucking talking to me Mac.” The shoulder under his hand was rock solid with stress and the kid’s face looked bone pale in the fading light. What really grabbed his attention though was the way Mac had shot out his free hand to snatch blindly at the handrail beside him, anchoring himself where Jack had pulled him off balance. Coupling that with the sudden dart of Mac’s eyes to the yawning chasm of the drop beside them, it wasn’t exactly complicated math. “You’re afraid of heights,” he murmured with sudden realisation, his grip on Mac faltering in the face of his own surprise.

Mac’s expression twisted with some combination of resignation and guilt. “I’m doing fine. Just let me get this thing defused and we can all go home, yeah?”

“You’re afraid of heights and you didn’t think this was important information for me to know before now?” If he hadn’t still been sitting half an inch from an active explosive device, Jack would have shaken him.

“ Jack ,” Mac said, apparently also running to the end of his patience, “I’m fine. I’ve almost got this done and I really, really want to get down from here, so can you please just let me do my job while you worry about yours?”

“Looking out for you is my job, dumbass,” Jack snapped back, but he did at least let go of him and return to his post. As much as he might hate everything about this, the fact was that Mac was already here and there was an IED in desperate need of attention right in front of him. Getting that fixed and getting Mac back on the ground pronto had just become priority uno. “Work fast.”

With the dusk drawing in, it made sense to switch out his scope for the thermal one he’d thoughtfully decided to bring with him, though it did mean he’d have to zero the thing before it would be of much use to him. Then again, any shots ran the risk of drawing attention and from so high up, the sound could travel for miles without hitting anything. He held up the loose thermal scope to his eye while he mulled over the problem, making note of the scouts’ positions and checking any obvious spots for potential shooters. Still nothing.

“I’m not rushing you,” he said lowly, “But do you know what kind of timeframe we’re looking at here?”

Mac hummed absently. “Couple more minutes I think. Starting to need light though.”

Which really only meant they needed to get this over with as soon as possible, for Mac’s sake if nothing else. Jack slid the thermal scope back into its slot on his vest and tugged free the square of tarp attached to his pack. Its official use was to give him something to lie on should he need it when settling into a sniper nest, but right now it was of far more use to both of them as a light break.

“This thing isn’t going to go off if I tuck this around you both, is it?” He asked, holding the tarp where Mac could see it.

Even scared out of his mind and all but shaking with it, Mac caught onto the idea in a heartbeat. “No, we’re good. Just make sure you don’t jostle it.”

Jack did as he was bid, carefully constructing a makeshift tent around Mac and the device so he could use a torch without broadcasting his exact location to anyone in a five-mile radius. It wasn’t perfect, certainly, and from the way Mac’s breathing hitched ever so slightly the confinement was doing nothing for his nerves, but it would have to do for now. That taken care of and trusting that Mac could get on with things without further assistance, Jack returned to his rifle and performed another sweeping check of the area.

Still deserted. A quick check-in with the scouts reaffirmed his conclusion.

It was strange that someone had felt the need to climb up here to plant an IED and then hadn’t even bothered to hang around to see the fruit of their labours, but it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. It would hardly be the first time a would-be bomber had seen the US army rolling in and got the hell out of dodge. Regardless, Jack couldn’t help but count the seconds until he was free to get his infuriating EOD technician back into actual, honest-to-god cover. 

“How’s that vertigo treating you?” He asked, more to distract his own mind from the sudden, crippling mental image of Mac being taken out by a sniper bullet Jack had no chance of stopping than out of any genuine curiosity. Mac wasn’t going to be happy until he had his feet back on terra firma, that much was clear. 

“If you’re trying to help, stop. It’s not working,” was the irate reply. 

Despite the gravity of their situation – literally – Jack snickered. “You’re mean as a snake when you’re uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

Mac didn’t bother responding to the dig at all. It could be down to his discomfort at their current predicament, but Jack’s instincts were warning him that there was something more going on here and he’d long since learned to trust his gut when it was trying to tell him something. Another anxious look over his shoulder revealed nothing more than that his tarp tent was mostly doing its job of stopping light spilling out into the growing darkness.

His normal go-to technique for prompting Mac to open up was teasing, but evidently that wasn’t going to get him anywhere this time. Certainly not when they were still so high in the air. Perhaps this was a conversation better saved for when the device was defused and they were back safe in the Humvee on the way back to base; at the very least, Mac couldn’t escape him that way.

Right on cue, the faint glow of Mac’s torch snapped off and his blonde head poked up out of his mini tent. “We’re good.”

“Defused?”

“Yeah. Explosives are still a risk though – we can’t leave them up here.”

Jack eyed the bulky shape still hiding beneath the tarp. “Getting that thing down isn’t going to be easy, kid.”

Mac might have scowled at that, but in the dwindling light it was hard to be sure. “I know that, but no clean-up crew is going to be getting out here until tomorrow morning and a well-placed incendiary round could still set this thing off. I can’t leave it.”

“Okay, okay, I getcha,” Jack soothed. “How’re we doing this then?”

 “I can take it apart. Split the weight and the bulk between us. Nothing’s motion or impact sensitive any more so we don’t need to be that careful.”

Jack obligingly slipped off his pack and pushed it in Mac’s direction, trusting him to have a better idea of how they could get everything down safely and instead using the time to dismantle the makeshift rest he’d constructed. Attuned to each other as they were, it was the work of mere moments.

In the interests of getting Mac out of the line of fire – and back on the ground – as fast as possible, Jack ushered him down the ladder ahead of him while he radioed the scouts to fill them in. They returned a chorus of relieved gratitude and promised to maintain their position until Mac and Jack were well on their way out of there, making sure that whoever had set the device in the first place didn’t come back to try again. Already feeling exhausted and knowing he had a debrief waiting for him back on base, aside from whatever the hell was going on with his bomb tech, Jack wrestled down a sigh, and started making his way down the ladder.

He was pleasantly surprised to find Mac waiting for him at the bottom. Jack had long ago implemented a rule that Mac was to stick to his side like glue whenever they were moving in potentially hostile territory, but with whatever was going on with the kid, he hadn’t entirely expected it to hold. That it had was encouraging.

“Alright, let’s- get out of here,” Jack announced on reaching the ground, only just managing to cut himself off from saying ‘blow this joint’ . Mac might normally appreciate the gallows humour, but now was almost certainly not the time.

As if to demonstrate that point, Mac just nodded silently and fell into step just behind his Overwatch without a word.

One of the scouts had been keeping watch over their ride to make sure no one left them any nasty surprises while they were otherwise occupied, though he melted into the shadows of the night as soon as they reappeared. Comforted in the knowledge that he didn’t have to waste any more of his evening waiting for Mac to do a trap check, Jack gratefully folded himself back behind the driving seat and heaved a great sigh of relief. Mac twitched at the sound, but said nothing.

In deference to their shared fatigue, Jack let the silence reign for a solid minute before he broached the subject. “So,” he started slowly, “I get the feeling you and I need to talk.”

Mac’s eyes flicked to him too quickly to be casual, but still he stayed silent. Well, if that was the game he wanted to play, he was damn well going to have to listen, wasn’t he?

“Let’s start by saying that you not telling me about the heights thing was reckless as all hell man, and I mean really, really stupid.” He did what he could to keep the anger out of his voice, but did nothing to soften the seriousness of his tone. For their partnership to work then they needed to be able to trust each other with their flaws and weaknesses; without that, they wouldn’t stand a chance. “You gotta tell me when there’s something going on that’s going to affect your ability to do your thing, no matter what it is. It doesn’t matter if you think it’s something small or unimportant, you have to fill me in. I’m not going to judge you for it if that’s what you’re worried about, but the only way I can do my job is if you’re honest with me. You get what I’m saying to you?”

The blonde was back to his usual sullen trick of staring straight out of the windshield, seemingly seeing nothing, but he did at least incline his head. Even when they’d first been starting out, he hadn’t been this difficult.

“Right. Well. If that’s out of the way, you planning on telling me what’s going on in that head of yours? Something’s been bothering you since this afternoon and clearly it’s important. Fill me in?”

Mac’s forcefully blank expression momentarily fractured into a frown before he got it back under control. “I’m fine Jack. Just tired. I wasn’t expecting to get called out again tonight.”

That was a reasonable excuse, except for the fact he was clearly lying. “Yeah, I’m not buying that. Didn’t I just get done telling you that you needed to let me know when something was going on with you? Whatever this is, I’m pretty sure it qualifies.”

The frown reappeared and didn’t immediately melt away again. Annoyance wasn’t exactly what Jack was aiming for, but at least he was getting a response. “I think I just proved that I’m perfectly capable of doing my job.”

Jack couldn’t help the sharp sigh that escaped him as frustration started to seep into his bones. Clearly he’d miscalculated just how far from alright Mac really was in that moment. Maybe he should have been paying better attention over the last few days after all; well, lesson learned, at least. “I know you are man,” he tried as gently as he was able. “That’s not what I’m getting at. But something’s clearly thrown you off your game and I want to help if I can, okay? This job’s rough enough at the best of times; you don’t need t’be adding to the pile.”

If Mac recognised that for the olive branch it was, he made no sign of it. His only outward reaction was to return his eyes firmly to the windshield and clench his hands together to keep himself from fiddling with a piece of wire he’d been worrying at since they started driving. There was a long, strained pause; Jack desperately wanted to press the matter, but he knew Mac well enough to know that trying would only shut him down further. If Mac didn’t want to share whatever was going on in his head, then he wouldn’t – it was as simple as that.

Fortunately for Jack though, Mac had never seemed all that comfortable with expectant silences. “It’s nothing. I’m just working through something in my head. Don’t worry about it.”

“Mac… Is this about the other day? ‘Cause I meant what I said up there; I’m sorry I lost my temper. It wasn’t ‘cause of anything you did-”

“Look,” Mac said with sudden force, dispensing of his heretofore unconvincing meekness and turning to put Jack directly into his sightline. “I get it. It’s fine. I’m sorry your request got denied but it’s- We’re both stuck here, okay? We’ve got four weeks left and then you can get back home and put all of this behind you. We’ve just gotta get through one more month.”

For the first time in a very, very long time, Jack was stunned into utter silence. Mac apparently took his frozen expression for one of acceptance and turned back to stare straight ahead with a sharp nod, as though they’d come to some sort of arrangement. Jack, for his part, did his best not to crash the Humvee into a ditch as the bottom of his stomach dropped away.

Then he rethought quickly; to have this conversation he definitely needed to be able to keep his eyes on his partner and driving wasn’t exactly conducive to that. He hit the brakes and pulled over. Mac chirped in surprise.

“Okay, woah, hold on,” Jack started, turning bodily to face the man beside him. “Let’s slow it down real quick because I think I’ve missed something here. What are you talking about man?”

Mac blinked at him like he was the one acting weird. “What?”

“What what?”

The blonde scowled faintly, but it wasn’t entirely clear if it was actually directed at Jack. Regardless, he relented with a sigh. “I heard about your transfer request getting shot down. I’m guessing that’s why you were so pissed off? Well, I’m sorry about it. You shouldn’t be stuck with me if you don’t want to be.”

A lot of things suddenly made a lot of sense. Jack could have kicked himself – he would certainly have deserved it. “That’s not- You’ve not heard the whole truth there, man. Shit I’m sorry, it’s-” He bit down hard on his tongue and forced himself to get the words in order. Mac seemed willing to take his stumbling apology as an embarrassed confirmation of the story he’d so readily believed and to be honest, Jack could hardly blame him.

“It isn’t what it sounds like, I promise you,” he said carefully. “I didn’t tell you about the request and that was stupid, but I swear I wasn’t trying to get away from you.”

Mac snorted very softly, a grim smile playing at the corner of his mouth for a moment before he choked it down. In all their time together, Jack had never seen him look so bitter.

“I mean it. I don’t know what you heard, but the request was for both of us.” That got Mac’s head snapping up to stare at him in visible confusion. Jack’s chest clenched painfully with emotion he didn’t want to put a name to. “I heard a rumour we’re being shunted to Paktia to shore up the EOD team in Gardez. They’ve taken some heavy hits lately and want more hands on deck.”

Mac’s brow was furrowed, clearly not entirely trusting what he was hearing but at least willing to listen. Given the circumstances, Jack was surprised he was even allowing that much. “And you didn’t want to go?”

“Hell no,” Jack said instantly. “The Gardez boys might need help but I don’t want to put you within a hundred miles of that place. Ghazni ain’t been kind to you, but at least it hasn’t blown your fool head off; worst we’ve had to deal with here is individual cells trying to make things difficult. Paktia’s crawling with T-men.”

“All the more reason we should be there, helping.”

“Yeah, and what happens in a month when I ship out and you’re stuck there without me to watch your back, huh? I don’t know who your new Overwatch is gonna be and if I can’t be sure they’re gonna have your back, I want to at least try to keep you as safe as I can while I’m here. I put in the request to shift us to Wardak instead. It ain’t safe there either, but it would have given you a cleaner run at things.” He huffed, remembering the raging argument he’d had with the Captain when his request had been denied. Looking back, he’d been lucky to walk away without disciplinary action but he didn’t regret it for a second. “’Course, none of that matters now, since we’re heading to Gardez regardless.”

He forced himself to meet Mac’s eyes and tried not to flinch at the calculating look being shot back at him. Evidently his partner needed a moment to work out whether or not Jack was lying to him to try to save face and that-

-That hurt. It was fair, completely fair , given that Jack had given him exactly no heads up about what was happening before going behind his back to try to rearrange his life without permission, but it was still crushing to realise how badly he’d fucked up. Their start together had been rocky, to say the least, but Mac had a kind of honest goodness about him that made him impossible to dislike after about thirty minutes of knowing him. Put together with his dry humour, endless patience, and his literal, honest-to-god genius, and Jack hadn’t stood a chance of not befriending the kid. It was somewhat convenient that it was Jack’s job to watch Mac’s back, because he had the sense he’d want to spend every second he could trying to protect him.

Then again, that’s what the transfer request had been about and look how that had all turned out. God, he was such a fucking idiot.

“I should have told you all of this before I did anything, I know that. I’m really sorry for it, and I’m even more sorry that you ended up finding out the way you did. That was shitty and you didn’t deserve it for a second. But I promise you, none of it had anything to do with me not wanting to be here.”

There was a pause while Mac’s face did something complicated, then he asked quietly, “You weren’t trying to get away from me?”

“Not for a single second, kid. I would never.”

It was the honest truth and yet Jack knew instinctively that it wasn’t going to sink in in the way he wished it would. Mac hadn’t talked about home all that much in their time together, and what he had let slip had some gaping holes where family should have been; Jack was good enough at hearing what people weren’t saying to understand that at some point, someone had let the kid down badly. Now, apparently, he had to add his own name to that list. 

This was all such a goddamn mess .

Whether or not he bought Jack’s attempt at reassurance, Mac did at least appear to accept the truth of his account with a small, thoughtful nod. To be honest, even if he hadn’t believed it, this was something Jack could easily prove once they were back at base by digging out the request file, but it was comforting to know that he hadn’t screwed up so badly Mac couldn’t take him at his word.

“Okay,” Mac said softly, still frowning thoughtfully but no longer twisted up with bitterness and hurt. “Okay. I understand. Sorry for leaping to conclusions, I guess.”

“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for,” Jack replied instantly. This was not the kid’s burden to bear. “I should have told you. You have every right to be pissed as hell about it, even knowing the truth.”

“That’s not- It’s fine,” Mac said haltingly, not meeting Jack’s eyes. “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

Jack watched him for a long minute as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, taking in all the tiny little signs of distress he should have noticed days ago. It was only now that he was really looking that he could see how fucking exhausted he looked. Like the whole world had come crashing down on him and he was still trying to soldier on under its weight like nothing was wrong.

“Man, I really fucked up, huh?” He murmured quietly. Mac’s gaze twitched to him and away. Louder, he said, “I let you down and I’m sorry for that. I promise, no more secrets.”

There was a pause, then Mac seemed to decide something because he turned to look at him properly again. “That mean you’re going to tell me what you’ve been up to the last couple of days?” At Jack’s blink of surprise, he actually managed the shadow of a smile, despite everything that had happened. “What? You think just because I’m not Overwatch I’m not paying attention?”

Jack couldn’t help but grin at the spark of life returning to his partner’s tone. Of course he’d noticed when Jack had made himself scarce around the FOB. “I watch you and you watch me, huh? Should have known.” He shook his head ruefully. “Well, in that case, if you really want to know, I’ve been hitting up my contacts.”

Mac’s eyebrows rose. Jack rubbed at the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’m just a grunt but I know some people okay? I figured that if I couldn’t get us reassigned from Gardez, at least I could rope in someone I trust to replace me when I’m gone. No one’s as good as me, o’course, but it would be something at least.”

It took Mac a moment to digest that, as if trying to work out what he should react to first. In the end, he settled on, “I don’t think you’re a grunt.”

That was news to him. “No?”

Mac’s smile was a careful thing, like he wasn’t sure this was something he was allowed. “You play a good game, but you know way too much about- well, everything to not have been through something more than bootcamp.”

Jack should have known that he couldn’t get anything by a kid as smart as Mac obviously was, but he was still struck with a quiet swell of pride at how easily his EOD had figured him out.

“Plus, you know you’re by far the highest ranked Overwatch sniper on base? There can’t be many sergeants electing to watch bomb nerds day in and day out.”

There was an obvious question in there, but Mac was still too unsure of the situation to ask him straight up who he’d managed to piss off to get lumped with babysitting duty. And, honestly, that was a whole can of worms that Jack really didn’t want to dig into right now – or ever, really. Instead, he deflected. “Oh? That almost sounded like a compliment. You been checking out my record?”

“No. But if I did, I’d be surprised if most of it wasn’t redacted. Am I wrong?”

He definitely wasn’t. Jack’s smile was sharp as he started up the Humvee again. “You sound like you have some idea already.”

It was a clear invitation and, with only a slight hesitation, Mac took it. “You’re observant in a way that has to be taught. You seem too well travelled for it to not have been international, so I’m guessing CIA. Then there’s the tactical stuff – command wouldn’t ask for your opinion unless you’d been involved in something important. Putting that with that team of yours you sometimes mention without meaning to, I’m guessing you were special forces of some description. That’d explain the rank too.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re stuck watching me though.”

Jack whistled in surprise. Evidently Mac had been paying much more attention than he’d given him credit for. “I’m not stuck doing anything,” he protested lightly. “I like working Overwatch; it’s more relaxing than most gigs.”

Mac shot him a wry smile. “So I’m right then?”

He chuckled easily, letting the strain of their earlier conversation start to bleed out of his shoulders as they settled back into their usual patter. He hadn’t realised until right then just how much he’d missed it and from the way Mac was leaning back in his seat, he was thinking much the same. “About pretty much everything,” he confirmed. “You’re far too smart for your own good, you know that right?”

There was a pause. “You aren’t going to tell me what branch of the special forces you were in, are you?”

“You’re a smart kid,” he said with a broad smile. “You’ll work it out.”

 ..

The scene I didn't write is in a few weeks, after Mac's done some thinking and some very careful asking around and he sidles up to Jack one afternoon and very quietly says 'Delta'. Jack smiles, says 'Hooah', and neither of them mention it again.

[tickle-bugs]

I had two people ask for some advice on starting up/running a blog, so I thought I’d make a little post for anyone else looking for advice! There’s no one right way to run a blog and I am by no means an expert. This is just a compilation of some of the things I’ve learned :) 

Feel free to add advice to this!

- The first thing is something I cannot stress enough. Write for yourself first. You will be absolutely miserable if you’re only writing for attention. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s so incredibly important. If you don’t like a prompt, fandom, or scenario? You don’t have to write for it! A personal example: I’m a theatre kid and total musical nerd. I could probably write some compelling Dear Evan Hansen or Hamilton headcanons if I wanted to, but I don’t. That’s fine! I’m allowed to say I won’t write for it and deny prompts/requests for those fandoms. 

- Set boundaries. This is a very mixed community with all sorts of creators and participants with hands in different baskets. Don’t want minors to interact? Put minors DNI in your bio. SFW only? Put it in the bio. No RP? Bio. This goes for private conversations/askbox/other interactions as well. If someone comes into your askbox/dms and says something that makes you uncomfy, shut it down. 

- My advice is more geared towards writing than art or video, but I suppose you could apply this advice as well. Make what makes you happy! If you’re only in one fandom, feel free to stay there and make content for it. Multi-fandom? Excellent! Completely non-fandom? Epic! Make the content that you want to see and the content that makes you happy to create, especially if you’re in a more niche fandom/area. 

- Organization. ...I’ll admit this one is more of a personal pet peeve than something urgent, but it is something that people positively respond to. If you have some sort of consistency/organization to your blog, it’ll make it easier and more enjoyable for people to navigate. Make a fandom list/indicate your fandoms somehow (mostly for prompt purposes. people can’t read your mind, so it’s important to tell them what you will write for and what you won’t, however you want to do that)! 

Make a masterpost/link your fic tag! Use a fic tag of some kind. Give your fics summaries and leave a little bit of the fic above the ‘read more’ to intrigue folks (look at #my fics and my masterpost for basic examples of how I do this, if you need!). Use read mores. Please use read mores (if you can, idk if they’re on mobile. regardless no one wants to encounter a three thousand word block of text on their dash). (No seriously though, organize your blog, even if it’s super simple. literally just a ‘mine’ or ‘my fics’ or ‘[pseud] writes’ and a fandom tag. It’ll make it easier for people to find your stuff and support you)

- Practice general internetiquette. Please remember that the people in this community are real people with feelings, boundaries, and lives outside of the blog that they run. Be genuine and people will respond to you! Don’t manipulate people into likes/reblogs/attention. No one wants to be on the other end of that. Being in this community isn’t a transaction or a mosh pit, it’s an experience.  

- Be ever-so-liberal with the block button. Someone’s user makes you uncomfortable? They give you bad vibes? They’re a minor/older than you and you don’t want them interacting with your content? You don’t wanna see their blog for some reason? Block em. This goes for anons too. That’s what the button is for. Don’t feel guilty for using it. Use it. 

- How you write is 100% a personal choice and not really something that I can give advice on, but embrace your style! take prompts if you want, or don’t. Write oneshots, series, drabbles, or novels. Write romantic, or don’t. Etc. Change things up if you feel like it. Do what you want. Your blog, your style, your rules. 

- Numbers matter. Don’t let them define you. This is a bit of a harder one to explain, but I will try. I often say that I don’t care about numbers, and I really don’t, but that’s not to say that I don’t see them and they have zero effect on me. I absolutely notice and am bummed if a fic doesn’t get notes, or at least the notes that I was expecting. That is entirely normal and okay to experience. What isn’t okay, though, is creating for the sake of getting notes/numbers/attention (re: write for yourself first, internetiquette). If you find yourself relying on tumblr for gratification and a reward, I implore you to take a break. I’m not your therapist or your parent, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but when you make things only for the sake of notes, people notice. Celebrate your milestones. Know that it’s okay to be bummed about low notes/celebrate getting plenty. Just make sure that you don’t depend on the numbers for your happiness, or you will be miserable.

- You’re (probably) doing this for free. You are providing people content: a service. Produce as much or as little as you’re comfy with, but always remember that. No one is entitled to what you make. If someone asks you for headcanons, sends a prompt when prompts are closed, etc, and you don’t feel like fulfilling it? You have no obligation to do that. Getting commissioned is another story entirely, but as long as you’re making free content, you have zero obligation to do anything for anyone and certainly no time constraints. It can take me months to finish prompts, and that’s okay. I do them when I do them and I fill them how I want to. If my prompts are closed, I deny new ones until I’m ready to accept them. Make yourself happy first.

- How you interact with others is up to you! It’s generally considered good practice to like/reblog your mutuals fics/art, but this is not necessarily a hard and fast rule. I veeeeeery rarely reblog fics for fandoms that I’m not in, even from my mutuals. What you can do to show your support (and you should try and show support somehow. No one is in competition. Everyone’s in your boat, whether they have no followers or 1k) is send an ask/reply to the post/leave tags to let the author know you liked it. Like the fic and don’t reblog it, if you don’t want to. Just make sure you show your mutuals (and others in general!) roughly the same support they show you, however you decide to do that. Treat others how you want to be treated, as cheesy as it sounds :)

- Don’t repost content that isn’t yours without express permission from the original creator, and credit them appropriately. If you see a cute piece of tickle art and the artist doesn’t want it reposted? Don’t repost it. Don’t post fics/videos/gifs that aren’t yours (obviously if it’s like a scene from a movie/a clip on youtube that’s different, but don’t take credit for things you didn’t make, including ideas). Can’t tell you how frustrating it is to have work stolen from you. Don’t be that person. ‘Credit to original artist’ and ‘credit unknown’ is total bullshit btw. Link/tag the creator in the original post and make it clear you don’t own the content. Best practice is to ask the original creator if they’re okay with reposting, work inspired by or connected to theirs, etc. This goes doubly for saving/downloading someone’s fics. 

- It is not illegal for a minor to have normal, nonsexual, healthy friendships with people older than them. There’s a weird attitude that minors have nothing of value to offer adults besides a relationship/sex, which is...not true? Minors are thinking, living human beings with feelings, thoughts, and opinions. You can talk to them like normal people, because they are. Just obviously don’t talk about/introduce sex or endanger them. Minors don’t bring up sex/activities you’re underage for with an adult. IDK this isn’t a seminar just...don’t be weird. Adults can offer great life experience, support systems, and the basic joys and needs of human connection. Minors can too. Mind your business unless someone’s actually in danger. The next point is a caveat, though: 

- If you’re a minor, don’t interact with NSFW blogs/blogs with ‘Minors DNI’, NSFW blogs don’t interact with minors, etc etc. Not your parent or whatever but this is pretty common sense and it’s for everyone’s safety, but especially the NSFW person. internettiquette!

- If you use your TK blog as a side blog (meaning you have another blog as your main blog, not two separate accounts) and don’t want your main exposed, that is up to you. I recommend not liking posts. Also, follow people that you trust. These actions route through your main blog and your main will show up in the notes. You can reblog from a sideblog. If you want to send an ask “as your tk blog”, send an anon and sign it somehow, like ‘hey :) // @/tickle-bugs’. It should tag you in the post so you get a notification when it’s answered!

- Find your people! As an anxious person this one has been hard for me, so I know it’s hard for a lot of people. Fandom is literally a community of shared interest. Peachy and I have an iron bond almost two years later and we met talking over shared interests. You can absolutely find your people here. If someone makes you happy, strike up a conversation! Send an ask! You never know what doors it might open or whose day you might improve :)

- If you were an anon/lurker on someone’s blog and they inspired you to write/submit/start your own, sign your messages!! the common form that I see is either an emoji or [noun/context of the ask]!anon (prodigal!anon (i miss u every day), butterfly!anon, etc.) Let us know how to find and support you!! Those messages produce good brain juice. 

- The big finale: Have fun. If you’re not having fun here, maybe you could tweak something to make things enjoyable. Running a blog is like driving a car. Keep your hands on the wheel, respectfully indicate your intentions (flashing lights optional), and be safe. Poebody’s nerfect, y’know. If you make a mistake, course correct. I’m by no means perfect. Your favs aren’t either. Just do your best and have a good time :)

@rosytickles and the anon in my inbox, I hope this helps! Thank you for asking me, I’m very honored that you value my opinon/experience/advice. I apologize if I come off as preachy or aggressive, I envisioned grabbing my younger self by the lapels and shaking me vigorously while I wrote this. Probably a bad idea. 

Anywho, hope it helps. Anyone with questions, additions, or comments, my askbox is open! Just be constructive, is all I ask. 

[sugar-petals]

TAROT › Baekhyun’s Personality Reading

↳ // CARO’S NOTE ⇁ Even if he’s so outgoing, I always felt Baekhyun was quite a mystery. So I asked the Tarot about his character: What drives him, what’s on his mind, what possibly shaped him. The cards ended up giving me a much deeper take than expected, but I decided to share it.

DISCLAIMER // tarot is speculative, there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. all portrayals are for entertainment purposes only.

☞ decks used — rider-waite tarot + soul oracle cards

I. TAROT SPREAD

the cards: 3 OF SWORDS + 5 OF CUPS + 8 OF SWORDS

I’ll say this right off the bat, and I think you can tell by how these images look like. There’s something weighing heavy on him. All of these cards point towards an event of distress having taken place with the consequences being more present than ever. One shows the moment of heartbreak (3 OF SWORDS), the other a sentiment of loss (5 OF CUPS), the other a situation where you’re completely helpless and trapped (8 OF SWORDS). You can see a mourning theme going on, this is what impacted his character the most. Whether it’s a death of a beloved, trauma, break-up, abuse, disillusionment, there’s something that stays on his mind and determined much of who he is. Baekhyun is more  sentimental than we see him, nor is he as extroverted.

In fact, he broods very often and feels regret. Baekhyun is very much enclosed in his own shell. We see him as happy and bouncy with a lot of mischief and humor, yet the cards tell us how his personality is not built on positivity the way the world perceives it. He misses someone who is or was important to him and feels a lot of emotional (cups) and mental (swords) constriction. All of these cards are painted in either cloudy or dull grey, this is how his mind appears to him. Baekhyun feels unfree and burdened by a disappointment that was much more personal to him than he could handle, and he still can’t. If the Tarot were to describe his character in one word, it’d be preoccupied. Heavily so, with effects on his mental health and social life. It’s a state of being puppeteered by oneself but especially the outside, much like the way the outcast bound woman appears in the third image. This drives him to so much work ethic and humor, he is desperate to escape the condition.

See the three cards as a progression: He was hurt, felt the sadness of separation, and got stuck in the recovery without having moved on. In fact, he feels like he is going backwards every day, or nowhere essentially. He’s beating himself up for not being happy or okay. Baekhyun is currently stuck in paralysis on the inside and terrorized by a memory or chain of sorrowful events as the FIVE OF CUPS says. Someone behaved heartlessly toward him, whether it’s a bully, a bigot, or someone he had high hopes about, deliberately or not. It left a lot of bitterness and anguish, intrusive thoughts and victim mentality. He feels tossed around by the circumstances and entirely stuck. Loss of power is what I’m getting, and he’s not confident to get back what he lost or at least move on. A lot of the resulting loneliness has shaped him from the ground up.

Grief having five steps, Baekhyun went missing in stage three and never bargained or accepted. The THREE OF SWORDS appears when someone is gravely depressed about a dejection, the other two cards tell the same story. Whatever he feels bitter towards has not resolved and drives his every action. Or rather, re-action, at this point he doesn’t believe he can act on his own. He does things with a stance of hoplessness and doesn’t find fun in activities because he feels like he’s being toyed with. The EIGHT OF SWORDS on top of that points toward an instance of discrimination, censorship of character, and punishment to the point of getting ostracized (the swords on the card form a barrier). He has grown overcareful but feels like no matter what he does, he is controlled. Instead or rebelling or finding alternatives, he gave up and went along.

He also experiences physical pain that he feels defined by. The swords cards speak of both a piercing (the stabbed heart) and suffocating (the person in ropes) ache of some kind. Baekhyun is very tested by illness and/or discomfort. It’s giving him not just frustration, but a recurring test to his energy. Something has shattered his esteem and boundaries, severe enough for him to become paralyzed about it. Caged in the body is what I’m getting from the EIGHT OF SWORDS. His baggage is extreme. There’s nobody he can talk to about his problem and it isolates him. He’s become self-reliant that way, but it appears to him as if he is not going anywhere nor does he see his path (see the blindfold). Like this guy desperately needs a silver lining. In the FIVE OF CUPS, you can see the cloaked man crying over the three spilled chalices, but there are still two filled ones behind him, and there is a stream to get water from nearby. It’ll take an act of choosing for the man to turn around and see what good things he has and can get regardless of the heartbreak that happened. As concerning as the spread is, I think that moment will happen in Baekhyun’s life very soon.

II. ORACLE CARD SPREAD

the cards: FLOW (reverse) + STANDSTILL

Much like the three tarot cards, these oracles express the same sentiment. They’re both similar topics: First blocked flow and stagnation, then being passive rather than active. He’s on halt and lives with the breaks on. Baekhyun may appear as if he can steer anything to his favors and tag along in any situation, but his inner self is the opposite. He is much more observant and reserved, withdrawn. Talking a lot is unlike him. He’s not a born social creature, more like someone domestic who wants to retreat and sit. If he has to exit his bubble, he has to force himself. Reversed FLOW: There is coercion into unnaturalness. If he could, Baekhyun would go against convention 10 times out of 10. 

In absolute liberty, we would not see him live a standard life within the circumstances or ruling standards, whatever that may be. I think he would restructure what is classically considered as idol lifestyle to an extreme if he had the opportunity. I think what these cards want to say is that he is waiting for something in that regard. And that he is needing to heal, he knows he needs a time-out. The STANDSTILL card is all about a pause button and immersing oneself in a meditative state. His real self is hungry for silence and introspection and being left alone. All else does not come easy to him, he has to try hard and feels miserable if he has to exit his comfort zone which these cards say is strongly developed. 

Baekhyun uses his entire energy backups for his job. All of these cards are pointing at that he perpetually runs on low battery and works against himself in a way that makes him walk in circles, or even feel like he’s just standing there and everyone’s life is happening but not his. As in, he can’t put his passion into things he wants to pursue since he spends his vitality elsewhere. Baekhyun also feels as if his time is running out and he misses countless chances, that there is so much to do but he can’t compel himself to do anything. Yes, he has a lot of wishes, but not the means and mindset to deliberately create those instances where he can feel more fulfilled. Those are all heavy emotions, so I can see why the third tarot card and STANDSTILL conclude the spreads on the right, he feels very cornered and has become secretive. He will need more seclusion to sort things out on his own, peacefully, maybe in nature. This is something he can only sort out in his mind and fully resting.

--

© 2017-2020 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. reposts prohibited.

[loopy777]

RE: WIPs game: do I even want to know what Dicebenders is is it another scam how many times are the Gaang gonna get arrested for scamming

No, this time it's me scamming people. XD The dice in question are the RPG Dungeons & Dragons kind.

For a while I was doing a screencap webcomic in the style of "DM of the Rings" and "Darths & Droids" with another creative fan named Captain Boomerang. I was the scriptwriter and selected the screenshots for each panel, and Capt-BA would assemble the comics and improve my scripts (a process that did frustrate me a little, as I felt locked out of the revision process, but I did like the results. I just felt like I wasn't holding up my end of the partnership a bit). I wrote a story bible explaining the characters and storytelling rules, planned out the adaptation of the entire AtLA premiere, and had less detailed plans for the rest of the series, but we only got 6 comics in before Capt-BA went on a trip and never returned to the internet. I did manage to re-establish contact with her long enough to get permission to continue the comic, but the problem is that I have no image-editing skills whatsoever.

If I could find comic-making software that I know would do what I want and be easy to use, I wouldn't mind dropping some money on it, but everything I've looked at is trying to do lots of things I don't need. I only want a way to import existing pictures into comic grids, and then easily add dialogue bubbles. That's it. But the stuff I've found is more about image-editing than comic assembly, and it takes me an hour to put together a dialogue bubble that looks good. So I have 3 scripts that were never produced, which along with the planning docs are what's in that WIP folder, and I don't ever see myself going beyond that.

Besides, someone else already managed to complete something like this, and while I'm not a fan, I don't need to be. At this point, Dicebenders is dead. I'm glad I tried it, and it's a shame it didn't work out, but I'm happy with the other projects I've done instead.

I am squatting on an empty Tumblr for it, though.

Anyway, to share something new, here's the first section of the Story Bible I wrote to make sure Capt-BA and I were on the same page in terms of characterization. The rest of the bible details the plotlines for full series.

AVATAR: THE LAST DICEBENDER

BIBLE

Premise- A small group of players attempt to run a fantasy martial arts RPG that winds up essentially becoming the Avatar saga, or something very close. The main point of the series is comedy, based mostly on ridiculous links between Avatar and RPG's. Sometimes the humor will be in the vast difference between what happens in the comic, and what happens in the cartoon with the same screenshots. Other times, the funny will come from the unexpected ways they converge.

SPIRITUAL PREDECESSORS

DM of the Rings- The original, and my personal favorite. It's a good showcase of how to run a single quest together, while using narrative jumps to skip to the good bits.

Darths & Droids- A similar project, this stands out from its predecessor in two main ways. The players and GM are more friendly with each other, and are more or less having fun with each other. There is also a running, coherent storyline in both the game and in the lives of the players.

Benders & Brawlers- This is actually an existing attempt to do Darths & Droids with Avatar. This is helpful as an example of what we DON'T want to do, retell the Avatar story in a completely straightforward manner, with RPG players behind the characters.

CHARACTERS

None of the characters will be given real names. The players shall always be referred to by their character names, although this can be done in a teasing, ironic manner. When the characters are speaking, their dialogue bubble must always be attached to an image of the character.

The Gamemaster- The GM is a female in her early teens. She is a geek, and a bit of a social outcast for it. Nevertheless, she's trying to make that work for her, although she's not quite mature enough to make it happen yet. She has just discovered RPG's, and in her enthusiasm has gone all out in starting her own campaign. The only problem is that she doesn't know how to recruit players, so she ropes her best friend and little brother into playing with her. This is the GM's first campaign, so she'll a little in over her head. She knows the mechanics of play, and what she's supposed to be doing as GM, but doesn't have the fine skill in crafting an engaging RPG experience. Still, she wants to do her best, is willing to learn, and has a positive attitude about the whole thing. The GM has a strong crush on the Sokka player, but the only way she can express it is by having all the female NPC's flirt with the Sokka character.

Katara- Female in early teens, and the GM's best friend. Katara's player was friends with the GM from when they were both in grammar school, so while they have grown up into wildly different personality types, they are fully loyal to each other. Katara is popular, and outgoing, and doesn't care or know about geek stuff at all. She's only playing the game because the GM begged her to. At first, Katara is clueless about RPG's, and frequently questions or ridicules the mechanics of the game. She never quite gets into the idea of role-playing, but quickly takes to the idea of meta-gaming. She'll have her character act like a righteous do-gooder, because completing missions and fighting bad guys earns XP. She hoards items that will boost her stats. She'll advocate abandoning a mission/plot if it doesn't pay out enough rewards. Katara's player also can tend towards trying to Mary Sue her character, but this is inconsistent and usually shot down by everyone else.

Aang- Male in junior high, and the GM's little brother. He plays simply because his sister has cajoled him into it, and there are hints that he's getting some kind of reward or payment for it. He abuses his position by forcing the GM to give him what he wants in the game, even if it breaks the rules- access to the restricted Airbender class, the ability to bend all four elements, overloaded stats, an Avatar State that protects him from dying, a magic super flying cow ride, etc. However, it's important to note that Aang's player isn't a jerk. He's just immature, and like all kids, just always goes for what he wants via the easiest path, and doesn't realize that he may be causing trouble or hurting feelings. He's enthusiastic about trying out this RPG thing, but he has trouble coming up with any action beyond attacking or retreating. He's also hyper aware that the GM and Katara are girls. He is too old for cootie concerns, but thinks that girls are fundamentally different creatures with their own incomprehensible concerns. Having a big sister, he doesn't find this a big deal, just part of life. Aang's player is too young to be a geek. He likes cartoons and sports and fantasy and school-dramas. He also tends to follow whatever his sister likes.

Sokka- Male in late teens. This guy is your quintessential RPG player. He has is own top-quality dice, he's played campaigns and systems of all kinds, and knows the tropes of the hobby cold. He's a huge geek for all things geeky, but roleplay is easily his favorite. He's a social outcast, but he's made friends among his fellow geeks, and thinks life is just fine. Sokka's player joins when he meets the GM at the comic/games shop they both frequent. The GM was buying some sourcebooks and material to support the fantasy martial arts game she's running, and Sokka noticed, asked about it, liked what he heard, and got permission to join the game. What Sokka doesn't realize, because he is a geek and neither has experience with it or realizes it's even possible, is that the GM is sweet on him. This manifests in the character Sokka's canon luck with the ladies, only kicked up a notch. *Every single* female NPC flirts with him, whether it's appropriate or not. Sometimes player Sokka notices and tries to roleplay it, and sometimes he's just plain confused. Sokka has a few quirks. His best set of dice are his Lucky Red Dice, which always roll high when he needs it, but have been tested and proven to be fair dice. He also mandates that every character he plays use a boomerang; he was turned into a geek by the first video game he ever played, a Legend of Zelda title, and his favorite weapon from those games are the boomerang. Each of his characters has a unique, named boomerang.

Zuko- The GM's favorite NPC. She created him to be a compelling, dramatic character, with a complicated back story, moral struggles, badass loner personality, angst about his existence, a darkly noble quality, and a cool scar. The GM intended Katara to get to know Zuko, for her to try to woo him away from the side of evil, and perhaps to even have a romance with him. The PC's, however, couldn't care less about him. To them, he's just another mini-boss, and the fact that most of his character development is happening "off screen" means they don't realize that he's recruitable. A frequent gag is Zuko delivering a stirring monologue while no one pays attention.

Iroh- Background NPC. The GM tries to use him to give (ignored) hints to the players.

Toph- (tentative) A male munchkin gamer who picked a long list of weaknesses in order to get superbending. Toph's player is a friend of Sokka's player, brought in after an "incident" with his old group, and causes some initial resentment in the group when tries to show the n00bs how its done. Cowing Toph's player is a major victory for the GM.

Momo- NPC, but maybe make him a talking sidekick who gives the players hints when the GM is really exasperated?

Azula- the GM's best favorite villain. Azula is the GM unleashed, letting her take out frustrations on the players in both combat and harsh taunting. Eventually the GM comes to like the character so much, she retcons mental health issues into the character's backstory, and has her pet NPC, Zuko, spare her.

[nickrobinsondaily]

Nick Robinson Was Done Playing High School, Until He Met A Teacher

The actor opened up about voicing his opinions online, his celebrity crush, and shooting sex scenes with Kate Mara. By Isabel Jones

You could be forgiven for assuming Nick Robinson is years younger than his true age of 25. The actor has been playing high school students for a full decade, beginning with a four-season run on ABC Family sitcom Melissa & Joey and concluding (or so he hopes) with FX on Hulu miniseries A Teacher. 

In fact, Robinson vowed to end his journey as a perpetual teen after playing the eponymous Simon Spier in coming-of-age film Love, Simon. “I’ve graduated, hopefully,” he told Ellen DeGeneres in a 2018 interview, “and won’t be going back.”

Well, it wasn’t long before A Teacher nullified Robinson’s promise, returning him to the world of pep rallies and study sessions. 

“I hoped that no one would watch that interview where I said that I would never play high school again,” he tells me over Zoom with a laugh, looking rugged and definitely over-18 in an unpretentious 66˚North beanie and flannel shirt. “I'd made that ultimatum, and then I read the scripts for the series, and I met with [creator Hannah Fidell] and Kate [Mara], and I kind of went, ‘Shit, one more.’”

Robinson joins our call from British Columbia, where he’s currently filming miniseries Maid opposite Margaret Qualley. We delay the interview for 15 minutes so he can get a COVID-19 test — a process he must undergo three times a week while in production. He tells me he had a mild case of the virus earlier this year, back when he was living in Williamsburg and “doing a play.”

That ever-so-casually-noted “play” happens to be Aaron Sorkin’s adaptation of To Kill a Mockingbird on Broadway, aka the “highest-grossing American play ever.” Judging by our 40 minutes together, 2,500 miles and a computer screen apart, Robinson doesn’t strike me as the type of actor who eagerly name-drops his prestigious projects or A-list co-stars. He greets me by name when he comes on screen — a simple act of courtesy that feels largely forgotten in a year marked by hate crimes and awkward interactions made from beneath face coverings. From his unfussy style to his nearly-dormant Instagram account, Robinson seems like an actor committed to just that: acting (and also maybe being a pleasant and approachable person). He takes questions and answers seriously (even when they’re about bagel toppings), pausing to find the perfect articulation for the words in his head. The celebrity of it all doesn’t appear to be on his radar.

On the rare occasions when he has updated his 1.5 million Instagram followers over the past few months, it’s been to encourage them to vote. 

“If there's a time to say something, it's now,” he tells me, his passion for the topic evident in the minutes-long monologue of sorts that follows. “To be honest, I feel like I should be doing more. There have been a million times where my finger has kind of hovered over ‘post’ or ‘share’ and not done it because there is this thing where people would be like, ‘Oh, just stick to acting, we don't need to hear your opinions,’ but fuck that.” 

With A Teacher, Robinson is able to participate in a project that not only highlights his acting skill, but furthers a conversation. He plays Eric, a high school student who has an affair with his teacher, Claire (Mara). Unlike many of the predecessors who have tread this same cinematic territory, the series is as dedicated to drawing the viewer into the illicit relationship as it is to immersing them in the brutal and enduring aftermath.

“The show does a little bit of a bait-and-switch on the audience, which is intentional,” Robinson explains. “It makes them complicit in Eric and Claire's relationship.” 

Ultimately, though, A Teacher’s stance on its subject matter is clear. “Everyone involved in this production took this story very seriously. It wasn't to make light of these kinds of relationships. It wasn't to glorify them. It really was to make a character study on what happens to these people after the headlines,” he says. “There are a lot of headlines, a lot of clickbait, and there’s not a lot of follow-up.” 

The role of Eric wasn’t an easy one to play, and the emotional toll was heavy. “That's something that I'm trying to get better at,” Robinson said of shrugging his character off at the end of the day. But this particular journey compelled him.  

“I was really interested in exploring how male survivors internalized this kind of trauma,” he says. “And oftentimes it's really suppressed for years.”

“The relationship is often used as a kind of social currency for the survivors. They're given high-fives and told ‘you're the man’ and all that. So, the push and pull of that, of wanting that to be true, but also dealing with some very complicated emotions internally, I think was what a lot of the second half of the show is about: Eric grappling with the reaction of his peers versus what he's actually feeling inside.” 

That said, Robinson’s research would be for naught if he and Mara didn’t have chemistry. Luckily, their connection was instant. 

Robinson extolled Mara’s “wicked sense of humor,” which came in handy during some of their more “intimate” scenes.

“You kind of have to laugh at some of those scenes when you're doing it,” he told me. “If you did a macro view it would just be two people with a bunch of burly grips around and camera operators and lights on you. So it's not actually an intimate experience.” 

Though Robinson’s still playing high school, the rules have changed. The laugh-tracks have fallen away and the happy endings once found at, say, the top of a ferris wheel, are just out of reach. His performance in A Teacher is a departure from a body of work that tends to skew “teen,” but it’s a defining one. 

Read on below as Robinson tells us his favorite “long and bad” joke, recounts his first kiss, and names his favorite Robert. 

What's the last thing you do before you fall asleep? 

Honestly, especially recently, the last thing before I do before I fall asleep is check the news and check social media. Probably not healthy. 

If nothing else, can we please just end this to change the news cycle? Because it's crazy-making. The whole thing is just, it's constant turnovers. I'd just like some peace and quiet.

The plotline of 2020 is really insane and implausible. It jumped the shark a long time ago.

Who’s your favorite villain?

Don Draper.

You see him as a villain?

I do. But that's the best part — most of the really good villains have some humanity and are maybe slightly ambiguous, but I think ultimately, yeah, he's a villain.

What was the first album you ever owned?

“Who Let the Dogs Out” is one of the first songs I really remember having playing, in like kindergarten, so I didn't buy it. But I had a portable CD player, which was really cool. And I had a Roy Orbison Greatest Hits CD that I liked a lot.

Do you still listen to that?

Sometimes. Yeah. I was also a big Elvis fan growing up. A lot of the oldies. And I do still listen to that, but there are  newer folks now that I prefer, I guess.

What's your favorite cheesy pickup line?

Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

A classic.

It's a classic. It's really the first one that popped into my head.

I'm going to assume you've never used it in real life?

Never.

If you ran for office, what would your slogan be?

I don't think I would ever run for office. It's not something that appeals to me, but I did see a good hat the other day that said “Make Orwell Fiction Again,” that I thought was kind of funny.

Name one place you've never been but have always wanted to go.

Vietnam, I would say, or Thailand. Southeast Asia generally. Egypt ... I'd like to go to North Africa as well sometime. A friend of mine shot a movie in Vietnam and fell in love with the country and it's been on my to-do list for a while.

Read the rest of the interview on Instyle

[trickstermakesallworlds]

despite the difficulty involved in making things make sense with this kind of story, I really do not regret my choice to make Dayir a noncombatant -- to take the "Warrior" out of "Warrior of Light"

(long post cut)

I understand the general theme of fighting for one's world, one's existence -- but I take umbrage with the methods. the Faded Memories quest in Amaurot upset me big-time the first time I went through it (and no, I do not look forward to doing it again lol), because that is exactly the sort of thing I wanted to avoid -- taking up a righteous sword and carving through people in the name of some higher cause. I don't really buy that concept, as compelling as it is in video games, and it just wears thinner and thinner as time goes on

Dayir is a noncombatant but ey are very much a fighter. the path ey have chosen is far, far harder, because not only are ey fighting for eir world and eir people and emself, but ey are fighting against the idea that people have to die in order for em and eir world and eir people to be saved. ey are fighting against the idea that "the beast tribes" are lesser beings (frex. Dayir avoids Limsa Lominsa as much as possible not just because Lominsans are... a bit crass for eir liking, but also because Merlwyb and her whole stance regarding the kobolds and sahagin drives em nuts) who deserve to be trampled all over because they dare to be so afraid for their existence and so distrustful of the people who have consistently subjugated them that they make for easy marks to the Ascians. ey are fighting against division, against senseless warmongering, against pretty much every solution ever presented to em. the reason why Dayir joins the Scions is because Minfilia goes, "no, actually... I support that. let us help."

a video game of this nature needs you to kill things to progress. fine. but remove the gaming aspect and the body count is merely horrific. so is the way the WoL blithely carries on without even a thought about it. killing is traumatising. war is hell. the Garleans are so good at it because they basically purged healthy emotionality from their society. (there's like a weird irony there when you consider who the founder of their society was, but I can't quite verbalise it.) the rest of the world just suffers. Dayir's angry Elezen companion does fight for the Scions, does kill when his hand is forced -- but he is not exempt from its horrors. Ishan attempts to sate the gnawing void inside him, but taking a life only widens the hole, only deepens the hunger. Dayir is not exempt from making mistakes. letting Ishan kill in eir name is one of eir biggest.

sometimes I think I'm being overly sentimental when I refuse to let the confrontation in Amaurot be a battle. after all, we've killed other Ascians. but those were earlier times, more uncertain times, when Dayir did not fully believe in the rightness of eir path. also, the Ascians on the Source were... let's just say extremely antagonistic. killing them seemed like the only choice if we didn't want to have to kill hundreds of other people. but Emet-Selch does not interact with us in the same way as the other Ascians, and Dayir has come into eir power as one who fights with heart and words and love as opposed to swords and spells and conquest. Azem's power is with em. against that, Emet-Selch is disarmed. and that might be wishful thinking, but so is the idea that you can just fuckin slice and dice your way into making people do what you want (and you'll somehow never get sliced and diced back...). so we're all wishful thinkers here.

Dayir proves to Emet-Selch that the Sundered deserve to live by exemplifying that spirit of old Amaurot that Emet so misses, the expansive spirit of cooperative creation, and irrefutably changing people's lives for the better through this spirit, which awakens that self-same spirit in them. Dayir continually works to halt the cycle of killing and revenge and suffering and loss that the Source had been stuck in, and that's eir Heroic trait -- as implausibly as the Warrior of Light somehow manages to kill everyone (even primals and Ascians and whatever else) perfectly and never die themself, is as implausibly as Dayir does what ey do. we all playin by anime rules here

I'm really just doubling down on the game's actual message of cooperation and friendship saving the day. the Ascians use the inherent despair of the Sundered to manipulate them into causing Calamities. Dayir and the Scions use the capacity of hope-against-hope and love-despite-all inherent to the Sundered to stand against the Ascians and render them powerless. that's really all there is to it.

(final note that I forgot to work into this post but want to say anyway: the other thing about Dayir is eir love and respect for death. death is good. death is not to be cheapened by using it as a threat any time someone does something you don't like. death is reward, bliss, rest. life is harder. having to live with what you've done is harder. choosing to live when you are suffering, to fight for a better day in the future, is harder. Emet-Selch fights against his death not because he wants to keep living, but because he doesn't believe he deserves to rest. he believes he should fight harder for his lost world. their "confrontation" is essentially Dayir fighting to convince Emet-Selch that his rest is long overdue. but that is not a conclusion that Dayir wishes to force upon him -- he must come to it on his own. Emet-Selch's life is not Dayir's to take. no one's is.)

[elektricangel]

hey, ur 1920s billdip mafia au remains one of my all-time favourite fics ever, it's soooo good. I'm not new to writing but I am new to writing fics, do u have any advice for someone wanting to write fics? I'm getting to the point where if i want any new content in certain fandoms I'm gonna have to make it myself haha

Well first of all, thank you, it means a lot to hear my fic is one of your favorites! I had so much fun writing that one, and I hoped it would come across in the story itself. I think that would be my first piece of advice, actually. Unlike with a lot of original fiction where you're trying to follow a certain story structure or other best practices, with fanfic you can throw most of the rules out the window and just write for pure enjoyment (your own first, and then, ideally, others' too). A lot of people write fics where just about nothing happens, but they're still highly enjoyable because you get to spend time with characters you love in a situation you haven't seen them in before. I feel the need to write more involved plots for my fics, but sometimes I'll just start writing from a premise I've concocted that I want to explore, and figure out the actual story as I go. If you have an idea you think would be fun, write it! To me, having fun is the most important part of writing fanfic. Of course, there are moments of misery, too (it's still writing, after all), but that makes the fun parts all the more important. I've found that when I'm having fun writing, my readers are usually having fun reading!

I also have a lot of experience being in niche and/or older fandoms where I need to write the stories I want to read because no one else will. But once I put those stories out there, there were always other people who found them because they wanted those stories too, even if they didn't realize it until they clicked on the title in their search results. Your audience will find you, even if it's a small one. And they will love your story all the more if it's one of the only ones in that space.

The relationship between fic writers and readers is something that makes fanfic really special, although it's certainly a double-edged sword. I think I'm pretty lucky in that my experience with readers has been almost entirely positive (like your lovely ask!), but I've gotten negative comments too, and like other writers, it's helpful to have a thick skin as a fanfic writer, if you can. Remember that you're putting your writing out into the world as a gift, for free, and that absolutely no one is entitled to it, and no one's opinion of it matters more than your own. That's why I think it's so important to write for your own enjoyment first. Getting notes and comments can give you a wonderful feeling, and getting negative criticism can make you feel awful—either way, it's easy for your story to get lost in what other people think it should be, since everyone already has such strong opinions about their favorite characters. But within the world of your story, they're yours, and only you know how the story goes. How you feel about your story can be your compass. Then, you can choose which feedback to take to heart as you journey forward, and which to ignore. And getting that instant feedback after you post a chapter is incredible! You know immediately which parts struck people in which ways, and you can read your writing anew through your readers' eyes. I find that perspective really valuable, since it's otherwise so hard to get out of my own head and read my own writing with any kind of objectivity.

I think the one thing I get the most comments about on my fics is how well I keep the characters in character. Avoiding writing OOC might or might not be important to you (and again, it's what's important to you that matters), but with most fics, the characters are what tie the fic back to the original story everyone knows and loves. If you keep them true to themselves, you can preserve that strong connection, and then it doesn't matter if you change everything else up. You could write a coffee shop AU on the moon! If the characters still feel like themselves, their dynamics will keep it credible and compelling within that fandom. I don't know about other fic writers, but my favorite characters sort of live in my head and I like to toss them into different situations and almost just observe how they'd act and react. But if that's not how your brain works, I also find it helpful to take scenes from canon and just extend them in my imagination. What do the side characters say to each other after the main character has left the room and moved on to the next scene? How did the antagonist pass the time waiting for the protagonist to fall into their trap? These can be the first steps in extrapolating characters out of canon and integrating them into the new habitat of your story.

I hope at least some of that is somewhat helpful. And most importantly, I hope you have fun writing your fics!

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Tips to keep Writers Writing

I made a tip list. For the record, I know I’m not following all these as I should be and by no means am I saying I’m perfect (lord knows I’m far from it). This really can apply to anything on Tumblr (Writings of any kind, artwork, poems, songs, basically any time someone is sharing something with the world) but I’m applying it to writing cause that’s what I do. I know there are so many of these types of lists, but I made this one, so enjoy.

Get the notes up! I’ve seen a countless number of writers putting out less and less content on here just because their pieces aren’t getting the notes they so obviously deserve. I know from experience that watching a piece you thought was going to be a hit flop is so hard to get over. It makes me, at least, not want to keep posting the fics and pieces I like because I’m worried about how you guys would like it. Listen, I know some people say they can live without your validation, and good for them, but just pretend that writers need your (good, not hateful) comments. If you like a piece (or read it), reblog it. It’s really the only way writers get their work out there.

Stop the hate! If you had at any point sent anyone some spiteful, rude, harassing ask on anonymous, you’re automatically dead to me. Seeing people receive hate comments is so heartbreaking to watch because I know they don’t deserve it. If you ever get the urge to send someone a hate comment, I want you to write it down on a piece of paper, fold it up real nice, and burn that shit. No one cares if you have something rude to say. We speak with kindness, or we don’t speak at all.

Send asks! Ok, this one’s easy. If you don’t know what an inbox is (That sounded kind of rude to me idk but I genuinely mean this because if you’re new to Tumblr it gets confused with direct messages) it’s where you can send people like little messages where they can answer PUBLICLY. It’s where you can also send anons if their anons are turned on, some aren’t so be aware. Anyways, I don’t know about everyone else, but I LOVE when someone sends me an ask. It makes me really happy to know someone took time to tell me their thoughts. And you don’t have to actually say anything, ask us about our days or ask us about pieces we’d done. If you don’t know how to start writing an ask, start with a “hello, how are you?” or “Hi! I really loved your piece.”

Request things! Only do this if requests are open though, but if you see a writer opened requests SEND SOMETHING! If you aren’t sure, check their bio or send them a message (or an ask) just asking “Hey! Are your requests open?” We’re cool, we won’t bite. If they say yes, celebrate. Then take advantage of the opportunity. Check to see if they have request rules or guidelines, sometimes writers’ requests are only open for a certain fandom or person. Don’t be sad if what you want doesn’t fall within those lines, it makes us sad. Don’t just demand a piece to be written. Be polite, say hi, tell them how much you’ve enjoyed their pieces and how grateful you’d be if they CONSIDERED writing the one you’ve requested. DO NOT BE UPSET IF YOUR REQUEST DOESN’T HAPPEN!!! Sometimes requests are given, and writers feel uninspired to write them, that’s life. If a writer does end up creating something, thank them, tell them you loved it and why you loved it. That second part really helps to know what was successful to keep in mind for their next piece.

Know we live lives! This is an important one to keep in mind. We are not machines on earth solely for the purpose of getting new content out. Some of us are in College, or high school, have families, full time or part time jobs. We are writing for free in our free time just like you’re reading for free in your free time.

Interact with us! There are many people who play “Ask Games” (If you don’t really know what they are it’s essentially lists of questions people post or reblog to let you all (the readers) get to know them better) and they want people to ask them the questions or other questions just to make them not seem like just a source of entertainment on Tumblr.

I don’t really know if anyone read all of these but thank you if you did. I don’t know why I felt compelled to make this, but I did, so I’d appreciate it if you’d all reblog this with tips of your own or tell me what you thought. This was long…

[limologic]

Vincent van Gogh suicide note

At 37, Van Gogh shot himself and died in his brother’s arms, but before his death, he struggled with philosophical concepts of identity, purpose, and searching for a moral compass. His art became his outlet to find peace, although his profoundly unique and controversial artwork was only truly appreciated after his death... In his lifetime he only sold one painting. He traveled learning new techniques but remained fixated on painting an atmosphere of brooding darkness.

Apart from painting, Van Gogh expressed his thoughts and ideas in letters to his brother encompassing the philosophical concepts tackled by even the most elite philosophers such as the nature of existence and understanding how to live. His revelations and perceptions shed light on how he wanted to lead his life and work towards finding peace.

At 25, his letter to his brother explains eloquently something we all struggle with— working for a lifelong goal rather than becoming successful overnight.

This letter was written in April 1878:

I’ve been thinking about what we discussed, and I couldn’t help thinking of the words ‘we are today what we were yesterday’. This isn’t to say that one must stand still and ought not try to develop oneself, on the contrary, there are compelling reasons to do and think so.

But in order to remain faithful to those words one may not retreat and, once one has started to see things with a clear and trusting eye, one ought not to abandon or deviate from that.

They who said ‘we are today what we were yesterday’, those were honnêtes hommes, which is apparent from the constitution they drew up, which will remain for all time and of which it has rightly been said that it was written with a ray from on high and a finger of fire. It is good to be an ‘honnête homme’ and truly to endeavour to become one both almost and altogether, and one does well if one believes that being an ‘homme intérieur et spirituel’ is part of it.

If one only knew for certain that one belonged among them, one would always go one’s way, calmly and collectedly, never doubting that things would turn out well. There was once a man who went into a church one day and asked, can it be that my zeal has deceived me, that I have turned down the wrong path and have gone about things the wrong way, oh, if only I could rid myself of this uncertainty and have the firm conviction that I will eventually overcome and succeed. And then a voice answered him, “And if you knew that for certain, what would you do? Act now as though you knew it for certain and thou shalt not be ashamed.” Then the man went on his way, not faithless but believing, and returned to his work, no longer doubting or wavering.

As far as being an homme intérieur et spirituel is concerned, couldn’t one develop that in oneself through knowledge of history in general and of certain people of all eras in particular, from biblical times to the Revolution and from The odyssey to the books of Dickens and Michelet? And couldn’t one learn something from the work of the likes of Rembrandt or from Weeds by Breton, or The four times of the day by Millet, or Saying grace by Degroux, or Brion, or The conscript by Degroux (or else by Conscience), or his Apothecary, or The large oaks by Dupré, or even the mills and sand flats by Michel?

It’s by persevering in those ideas and things that one at last becomes thoroughly leavened with a good leaven, that of sorrowful yet always rejoicing, and which will become apparent when the time of fruitfulness is come in our lives, the fruitfulness of good works.

The ray from on high doesn’t always shine on us, and is sometimes behind the clouds, and without that light a person cannot live and is worth nothing and can do nothing good, and anyone who maintains that one can live without faith in that higher light and doesn’t worry about attaining it will end up being disappointed.

We’ve talked quite a lot about what we feel to be our duty and how we should arrive at something good, and we rightly came to the conclusion that first of all our goal must be to find a certain position and a profession to which we can devote ourselves entirely.

And I think that we also agreed on this point, namely that one must pay special attention to the end, and that a victory achieved after lifelong work and effort is better than one achieved more quickly.

He who lives uprightly and experiences true difficulty and disappointment and is nonetheless undefeated by it is worth more than someone who prospers and knows nothing but relative good fortune. For who are they, those in whom one most clearly notices something higher? — it is those to whom the words ‘workers, your life is sad, workers, you suffer in life, workers, you are blessed’ are applicable, it is those who show the signs of ‘bearing a whole life of strife and work without giving way’. It is good to try and become thus.

So we go on our way ‘undefessi favente Deo’.

As far as I’m concerned, I must become a good minister, who has something to say that is good and can be useful in the world, and perhaps it’s good after all that I have a relatively long time of preparation and become secure in a firm conviction before I’m called upon to speak about it to others. It is wise, before one begins that work, to gather together a wealth of things that could benefit others.

Do let us go on quietly, examining all things and holding fast to that which is good, and trying always to learn more that is useful, and gaining more experience.

Woe-spiritedness is quite a good thing to have, if only one writes it as two words, woe is in all people, everyone has reason enough for it, but one must also have spirit, the more the better, and it is good to be someone who never despairs.

If we but try to live uprightly, then we shall be all right, even though we shall inevitably experience true sorrow and genuine disappointments, and also probably make real mistakes and do wrong things, but it’s certainly true that it is better to be fervent in spirit, even if one accordingly makes more mistakes, than narrow-minded and overly cautious. It is good to love as much as one can, for therein lies true strength, and he who loves much does much and is capable of much, and that which is done with love is well done. If one is moved by some book or other, for instance, just to mention something, ‘The swallow, the lark, the nightingale’, The longing for autumn, ‘From here I see a lady’, ‘Never this unique little village’ by Michelet, it’s because it’s written from the heart in simplicity and with poverty of spirit.

If one were to say but few words, though ones with meaning, one would do better than to say many that were only empty sounds, and just as easy to utter as they were of little use.

Love is the best and most noble thing in the human heart, especially when it has been tried and tested in life like gold in the fire, happy is he and strong in himself who has loved much and, even if he has wavered and doubted, has kept that divine fire and has returned to that which was in the beginning and shall never die. If only one continues to love faithfully that which is verily worthy of love, and does not squander his love on truly trivial and insignificant and faint-hearted things, then one will gradually become more enlightened and stronger. The sooner one seeks to become competent in a certain position and in a certain profession, and adopts a fairly independent way of thinking and acting, and the more one observes fixed rules, the stronger one’s character becomes, and yet that doesn’t mean that one has to become narrow-minded.

It is wise to do that, for life is but short and time passes quickly. If one is competent in one thing and understands one thing well, one gains at the same time insight into and knowledge of many other things into the bargain.

It’s sometimes good to go about much in the world and to be among people, and at times one is actually obliged and called upon to do so, or it can be one way of ‘throwing oneself into one’s work unreservedly and with all one’s might’, but he who actually goes quietly about his work, alone, preferring to have but very few friends, goes the most safely among people and in the world. One should never trust it when one is without difficulties or some worry or obstacle, and one shouldn’t make things too easy for oneself. Even in the most cultured circles and the best surroundings and circumstances, one should retain something of the original nature of a Robinson Crusoe or a savage, for otherwise one hath not root in himself, and never let the fire in his soul go out but keep it going, there will always be a time when it will come in useful. And whosoever continues to hold fast to poverty for himself, and embraces it, possesses a great treasure and will always hear the voice of his conscience speaking clearly. Whosoever hears and follows the voice in his innermost being, which is God’s best gift, ultimately finds therein a friend and is never alone.

Happy is he who has faith in God, for he shall overcome all of life’s difficulties in the end, though it be not without pain and sorrow. One cannot do better than to hold fast to the thought of God and endeavour to learn more of Him, amidst everything, in all circumstances, in all places and at all times; one can do this with the Bible as with all other things. It is good to go on believing that everything is miraculous, more so than one can comprehend, for that is the truth, it is good to remain sensitive and lowly and meek in heart, even though one sometimes has to hide that feeling, because that is often necessary, it is good to be very knowledgeable about the things that are hidden from the wise and prudent of the world but that are revealed as though by nature to the poor and simple, to women and babes. For what can one learn that is better than that which God has put by nature into every human soul, that which in the depths of every soul lives and loves, hopes and believes, unless one should wilfully destroy it? There, in that, is the need for nothing less than the boundless and miraculous, and a man does well if he is satisfied with nothing less and doesn’t feel at home until he has acquired it.

That is the avowal that all great men have expressed in their works, all who have thought a little more deeply and have sought and worked a little harder and have loved more than others, who have launched out into the deep of the sea of life. Launching out into the deep is what we too must do if we want to catch anything, and if it sometimes happens that we have to work the whole night and catch nothing, then it is good not to give up after all but to let down the nets again at dawn.

So let us simply go on quietly, each his own way, always following the light ‘sursum corda’, and as such who know that we are what others are and that others are what we are, and that it is good to have love one to another namely of the best kind, that believeth all things and hopeth all things, endureth all things and never faileth.

And not troubling ourselves too much if we have shortcomings, for he who has none has a shortcoming nonetheless, namely that he has none, and he who thinks he is perfectly wise would do well to start over from the beginning and become a fool.

We are today what we were yesterday, namely ‘honnêtes hommes’, but ones who must be tried with the fire of life to be innerly strengthened and confirmed in that which they are by nature through the grace of God.

May it be so with us, old boy, and I wish you well on your way, and God be with you in all things, and make you succeed at that, that is what is wished you with a hearty handshake at your departure.

Your most loving brother,

Vincent

The Essential Letter is an anthology containing 265 letters written by Van Gogh, which contains about a third of all the surviving letters he wrote.

Image Sources:

biography.com, uploads2.wikiart.org, blogs.elpais.com, feelgrafix.com

[iatheia]

EDA reviews Part 6 - books 47-55

Previous part 1, 2, 3, 4 & 5

47) The Slow Empire - Uh, couldn't really follow this one at all. There are books when the first person narration works, but not here - too many jumps in setting, too little connective tissue, most of it told from the POV of a person who is barely connected to the protagonists? And that's even before they started repeating chunks of text wholesale between various parts - and I couldn't figure out if it was intended, or if it is the ebook was acting out on me. More than half way through the book, I still couldn't entirely tell what the story is supposed to be about, or if the plot has even started yet. Even having finished it, I find myself somewhat aghast. There are a few glimpses of something interesting, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what. 4/10

48) Dark Progeny - Also not really feeling it. It's not a bad story, but I do rather prefer a Doctor Who story to actually feature the Doctor and the companions front and center, whether they are POV characters or not. Here, though, they are barely in it - it's even more egregious than the previous one in actually giving the supposed protagonists stuff to do, and even on rare occasions we do switch back to them, it is all pretty generic. Anji developing telepathic abilities and the Doctor trying to calm her down all the while Fitz is freaking out in the background? Yes, please, more of that. Following around 20 interchangeable OCs that have nothing to do with the trio? No thank you. 6/10.

49) The City of the Dead - If you are invoking magic in a sci-fi universe, you need to be able to handwave it. It doesn't need to be awfully complex, "something something aliens, something something energy" is usually enough, but without it, you can't just throw magic about willy nilly. There are rules.

There are moments when it is a beautiful story, evoking a lot of dream-like wonder, and if it managed to remain a hazy dream, it probably would have been better for it. At the same time there is something very uncomfortably cynical about it, to the degree it left a bad taste in my mouth. There is a narrow line between not shying away from the ugliness of the world and deliberately making something ugly just for the sake of it, and often it felt like it was leaning towards the latter. Dunno, I started out wanting to like it, and feeling rather conflicted about it, but by the end became utterly indifferent. 7/10

50) Grimm Reality - Pure crack. Mind Robber wishes it could be as hilarious and off the wall as this story is. It throws every cliche fairy tale narrative device in the book at the characters and expects them to take it with the straight face, all the while realizing that the rules of the world are completely bonkers. And it manages to sustain this energy throughout, which is a no small feat. It's actually pretty exhausting by the end of it. Fairy tales stories do not belong to a lengthy literary genre, and even taking time deconstructing them, at 95K words becomes it becomes just too much - figuratively, and, on occasion, literally. Still, pretty great, I wish more books had its energy 9/10.

51) The Adventuress of Henrietta Street - *sigh*. My expectations were pretty low to begin with, and I still am somehow disappointed. Credit where credit's due - it is probably most coherent of the books from Miles. And at least it's better than Interference. That's really not saying much, though.

Honestly, if you've read any story about prostitutes, murder, satanic sex rituals bordering on blatant pornography, eastern culture and "mysticism of female sex" used for fetish fuel, written by a dude who clearly gets off on all of this - you've read all of them. There is really nothing revolutionary or compelling about it. On the list of "plots I never want to see in Doctor Who", they are definitely up there. And the Doctor is dying again, because it wouldn't be Miles's book without it. And he's, uh... living in a brothel, trying to marry someone, in order to, uh..... ritualistically tie himself to Earth, for, reasons? Did I read that right? After over 100 years of living on Earth and wanting to do nothing else than seeing the back of it, right. And writing books not quite about sex but definitely about sex. Because that's the thing the Doctor apparently does now. Self insert what self insert. And Fitz and Anji are just... there. On an occasion. All of it exposed on in a dull faux academic style without a shred of characterization, all the while absolutely nothing of note is happening, despite being a singularly longest EDA.

Just, if you hate the characters so much. If you don't understand what makes them tick to this degree. If you don't even care to learn. If you consider any established emotions they should have about the plot you are putting them through beneath you. Why are you writing in a shared universe to begin with? 2/10

(I did have an unintentional moment of hilarity with it, though. There is a character that is referred to as Lord ______, as if his name is censored. TTS would always pronounce it as Lord Underbarunderbarunderbar. Always gave me a chuckle).

52) Mad Dogs and Englishmen - A hilarious story, a very easy read, flowing from scene to scene. There are several occasions of fridge horror treated with levity that I would have rather have avoided. Plus, it is as incestuous as a book about books can get, and yet.... It is just absurd enough to work.

Plus, the whole, “His books are full of black magic, mind control...and perversion - moral and ethical and sexual. He is polluting the atmosphere of our group”, “What’s next? Rewrite War and Peace so it’s about guinea pigs?” - Oh, the shade. It is a good book in its own right, but just for this alone, 10/10

53) Hope - It's a pretty average book. Not outstanding, not horrible. Would have made a decent episode, all things considered, in a bread and butter sort of way. It does have some great ideas - the refuge of humanity, the conflict between Anji and the Doctor finally coming to light - not quite the type of conflict I was hoping for, though. If only it had a bit more nuisance, without neatly delineated black and white, if the antagonist didn't end up being a mustache twirling villain, if the Doctor didn't end up strong-arming everyone in a much more macho manner than he normally goes for (with a rather clunky dialogue). It had potential, even if it didn't end up being realized in full. 8/10

54) Anachrophobia - Very meh. The set up was fairly contrived, it never made me care about any of the characters, including whatever the hell the Doctor and co were doing, not to mention any of the secondary characters. Not terribly engaging, after a point I was mostly flipping through it. There is some big conflict brought up at 95% mark, and it is resolved in just couple of pages via a deus ex machina and a paradox. Overall, I might have said that I would have liked it better if I was in a mood for existential horror, but I took a break in the middle to listen to the Lease of Life - and it actually touches upon several similar themes, but with and outstanding character drama and much more graceful execution, which made this book look even more poor in comparison. 5/10

55) Trading Futures - I will give the author all the points for keeping an eye on the future. Perhaps, in 2002, predicting tablets being used as menus in fancy restaurants wasn’t that big of a reach, but I absolutely had a spit take when TTS has read to me something about “eye-phones”. There are some modestly clever moments throughout the book. Too bad that the rest of it is a complete rubbish. Not terribly original, either - a lot of ideas are copied directly from other books and other franchises. Reasonably entertaining, all things considered, but in a much more slapstick sort of way than was probably intended. 7/10

Overall impressions so far - This batch is, for the most part, fine. Some stories are worst than others, some better. With one exception, nothing horrendous, but nothing to write home about, either. They are, for the most part, serviceable. Individually, they have decent enough plots. But. There is very little character work. They can generally be read in any order, or dropped entirely, and you wouldn’t miss anything. The Doctor is mostly coasting from the excellent streak in the last batch, always in a spot light. I am starting to tire of the whole amnesia arc, though - it was good, but it ran its course, and at this point, with everything functionally back to norm, with barely a stray mention of it here and there, we are starting to be overdue for some semblance of resolution of all that. Henrietta Street is entirely a step in the wrong direction - not only it does nothing worthwhile for the characters, it’s just getting unnecessarily further into the weedworks, adding yet another plot thread that is forced on other writers to carry (they mention it occasionally, but it’s not like there is much to build upon) - rather viciously reminding of the previous mess of an ark “don’t you dare to think that it is over”. And I am so over it. Just, move on.

The companions fare rather worse. They are decent enough, they participate in action, in each book, they are mostly staying in character, with a handful of neat moments here and there (in a blink and you’ll miss it sort of way, though), they aren’t written off as an unnecessary burden to carry, which is an improvement. There is nothing meaty given to them though - they ask the necessary questions, do the things required of them, and generally stay out of the way when they are not needed. I guess Anji has at least some character driven moments, even though most of them are reduced to “I miss my dead boyfriend”. Which is... fine, we’ve all lost people, we all mourn them in our own way, but it has been 14 books since her introduction, and she is leaving in another 10. To have her character reduced to just that bit from her first book, with barely anything else to offer.... Plus, all the while, she rarely felt like she integrated into the team - because she is constantly eying her exit and returning to normality (even though she always decides to stay just a little while longer due to circumstances), it’s like from the very beginning she had one foot out of the door.

But while Anji is a bit of a one trick pony, at least she has that much. Poor Fitz gets absolutely nothing to do. The last meaningful book that addressed his character in any way was all the way back around book #42-43, and even that was just catching up on plot after his prolonged absence. He’s been essentially frozen since early 30s books. He is generally a fun character to have around, and does good supporting work, but can he please get something more impactful any time soon? Heck, by this point I’ll even take the recurrence of “finding a new love interest number 20 who will inevitably die by the end of the book” - it has been overdone, and it is certainly not a very exciting plot, not to mention reductive, but at least it’d be something. Though, I guess only one companion is allowed to carry that staple at the time, and right now Anji is it, two dead lovers is just an overkill.

And it is an absolute shame - especially when considering that on the other side, Big Finish was in the middle of streak of some of the best stories. Over the same time that these novels were published, we had audios such as Project Twilight, Eye of the Scorpion, Colditz, One Doctor, Chimes of Midnight, Seasons of Fear, which were full of character.

[itsclydebitches]

[1/5] Am I the only one who doesn’t see Salem as guilty for the atrocities she’s committed? Jinn straight up said that her dip in the Grimm pools tainted her with dark magic that compels her to act on an instinct shared with the Grimm’s progenitor, the Younger Brother. If she’s being roofied with deific dark magic that fundamentally overrides her free will and fills her with a magical instinct to cause destruction, then doesn’t that absolve her of blame?

BUCKLE UP this ended up being a whole ass essay as I happily ignore my actual work

So this is admittedly a very complicated situation and I want to preface my response by saying that I agree with a great deal of this. I’m no longer able to find it because my metas/ask responses exist in a disorganized hellhole, but I said much of the same in Volume 6. Namely that the Gods are indeed the primary parties responsible for this entire mess, Salem was done dirty by them, she was (to an extent) justified in her goals, and she didn’t know that jumping into a grimm pool would turn her into a grimm queen rather than just killing her. Salem is, in many respects, a victim.

But being a victim doesn’t mean you can’t also be a perpetrator. This is the basis for most complex villains in media: we understand how they got to where they are, we feel for them, we may even think they’re correct about things like the injustice around them (insert Magneto here), but their actions are nevertheless too immoral to be supported. We get that a shit life largely outside of his control and the manipulation of Palpatine turned Anakin into Darth Vader. Doesn’t mean Darth Vader is off the hook for his crimes. We know that Jack Torrance was driven insane by supernatural forces when all he wanted was to watch over a hotel with his family. Doesn’t mean we shrug off him trying to kill his wife and child. We know that Voldemort was a product of a messed-up love potion that may have made it impossible for him to love “normally.” Doesn’t mean he’s excused for being a wizard Hitler. The humanity of villains is what draws us to them, but being a victim in the past doesn’t perpetually excuse/justify everything you do in the future. This is why all of these villains die in the end. That’s pretty much the only “good” solution we’ve found to such a complex situation. We don’t want the villain to be unforgivable because we got to see the tragedy of their downfall. At the same time, we can’t excuse the horrors they’ve committed and just welcome them back into the fold. So they die, giving the heroes the chance to mourn them without guilt and the audience the chance to enjoy that redeeming act (if the villain performs one).

That’s part of the balance that Salem is immersed in, but of course that’s not acknowledging the actual argument here: how can we blame villains for their actions when they had no control over them? Not a wishy-washy, highly subjective concept of “control” – Example: Does someone like Kylo Ren “really” have a shot at being a good person when they’ve got Palpatine in their ear? (The answer is yes. Yes he does.) – but a much more simple and objective situation: there’s magic at work that 99% of people straight up cannot fight against it. Like the RWBY equivalent of the Imperius Curse.

However, RWBY’s first mistake here is that, unlike the Imperius Curse, there is no firmly established lore surrounding the grimm pool. In Harry Potter we know that most people can’t fight off the Imperius Curse. That’s established numerous times throughout the series and that knowledge impacts the storyworld: there are laws in place that say if you can prove you were under Imperius, you’re not considered guilty of the crime. RWBY has none of that. We can assume that the grimm pool took complete control of the good Salem and is forcing her to do things against her actual will… but that’s never established. It’s an assumption. An interpretive reading. We don’t know that the magic doesn’t erase her free will, but at the same time we don’t know it does either. All we do know is that the pool created a “desire for pure destruction” in Salem. However, desires aren’t the same thing as a loss of control. Even if we pump up the concept of a “desire” into a “need” instead, that’s still not the same thing as, say, a chip put into your head that literally forces you to obey a 66 Order you’d otherwise never even contemplate (Star Wars). Or a demon taking control of your body and using it as a puppet (Supernatural). Needs are strong… but they can be overcome. Even the most intense of needs that keep us alive. We could (again) interpret that the magic created a need for destruction so powerful it’s akin to a drive like hunger, that Salem has to give into it in order to survive/stay sane, but that still isn’t a blanket justification for how she goes about achieving that. The villain in a zombie apocalypse film might go, “I had to eat! There was no other way! It was me or them… and I chose me.” We understand the drive, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay that they slaughtered an entire settlement in order to steal their food. In the same way, Salem doesn’t get to excuse a thousand years of abuse, attempted enslavement, and large-scale murder in the name of “I have this desire/need now.” Not unless the show establishes that the magic is 100% controlling her with the “good” Salem just along for the ride. Which it hasn’t.

In addition to this, I think there are three other aspects to Salem’s situation that make her different from the examples listed above (Bucky and LotR).

1. Planting the Seed

Unlike these other two fandoms where the characters began as Certified Heroes™, Salem’s situation is (again) a bit more complicated. She was absolutely an abuse victim. She was absolutely one of the good guys alongside Ozma. She absolutely got screwed over by the Gods in a horrifying way… but at this point Salem’s actions become less straightforward. For me, I think her emotional response is completely justified. If I had a God who wouldn’t bring back my tragically dead lover for BS “It’s about balance” reasons when he’s the ones who creates and enforces these rules about balance, I’d want to get a second opinion from God #2. If those Gods proceeded to emotionally and physically torture me for daring to question them all while lording themselves over humanity as an “experiment,” I’d want to take them down too. The problem here is not Salem’s goals, but rather the way she goes about them. Namely, manipulation. She very deliberately does not tell the God of Darkness about her meeting with Light. Much more damning (because let’s be real, this is a story chock-full of people telling lies of omission and keeping secrets), she rallies the people not out of a noble cause – Hey, why are we letting these two beings treat us like lab rats? – but rather through a much more deliberate lie: you too can get immortality if you just come help me kill them. 

I bring this up because it shows us that Salem had “bad” qualities long before the magic started its work on her. She was a flawed human whose flaws were emphasized more than the average hero corrupted by evil. She’s not a war hero fighting Nazis, or an average hobbit agreeing to an incredible self-sacrifice. She’s someone who (arguably selfishly) couldn’t let Ozma go and then did everything she could to get him back, with “everything” including manipulation and endangering others – to the point where everyone died. (As a side note, Salem basically did what others accuse Ozpin of. She brought people who never wanted to fight (civilians) into an actually impossible war (let’s kill two gods) under a falsehood (you’ll achieve immortality).) Are many of these mistakes human? Yes. Is it entirely Salem’s fault? No. She is not responsible for the Gods being the most dickish beings in the galaxy who chose to wipe out an entire species because they didn’t like them banding together. But Salem did have a hand in all this. She helped orchestrate the tragic conclusion. She’s not “pure” in the way that Bucky or Frodo was, which tells me that the magic perhaps isn’t full on corrupting her, but is building on something that we saw was already there. 

To use your drinking analogy, drinking doesn’t actually make anyone do anything. It just lowers inhibitions to do things we already wanted to do. Which means we’re still very much responsible for making awful choices while under the influence of alcohol. That’s one interpretation of the magic here. That desire/need lowers Salem’s inhibitions and encourages a person who is already poised to be a villain finally become one. I’ve been drunk and I’ve never once considered getting behind the wheel because I know precisely how dangerous that is—and Salem’s choices are far, far more harmful. To me, saying Salem is excused from her choices (in the context of what RWBY has given us so far) is like someone saying, “How can you blame them for shooting up an entire store and taking multiple lives? They were drunk!” I can still very much blame them for choosing that act, even if their thinking was impaired, even if someone else initially poured the alcohol down their throat without their consent. You’re absolutely right that there’s no easy way to map Evil Dark Magic onto real-world morality, but Salem’s actions are extreme enough that what comparisons we can make don’t look good.

2. Demonstrating Free Will

I think a stronger argument regarding the magic not full-on corrupting her is that we see Salem enacting free will throughout the course of her new lifetime. Meaning, the magic didn’t just turn her 100% evil and that’s that, she’s a mindless, destructive machine now. Rather, we’ve seen Salem engaging in a large variety of “good” and “bad” things. If the magic truly created a desire that she absolutely can’t fight against, then presumably she would have just killed/enslaved the world from the get-go. But she doesn’t. Salem hangs out in a cabin until Ozma finds her. Does she then go on her evil rampage? Again, no. She and Ozma set out to do “good” throughout the kingdom, saving the people from grimm and the like. Their choice to enact this good via godhood is, uh, not great (lol) but it’s still a far better use of her powers than what we see Salem doing later. This comparative trend continues on. She’s apparently stable enough to have four kids and lead a semi-normal life for a time. She only murders Ozpin when it’s clear that he won’t join her in this new “replace humanity” plan. Does she attack the first time he says no? No, rather she waits until he tries to sneak the kids away, which means Salem waited for absolute proof of his “betrayal” before acting. She then focuses on Ozpin for a thousand years, leaving Remnant to mostly do its own thing. Then she decides (for reasons not made clear by the canon) to attack the world now, launching a far more devastating attack than we’ve ever seen. And “ever” is at least a thousand years. 

All of this shows us that Salem has her own version of free will going on. She is making active choices and changing her behavior to suit a changing situation. That means she is responsible for choosing those truly heinous options: killing her children where before she raised them, killing Ozpin where before they argued, attacking the world where before she protected it. Salem has been bad since she came out of the pool, but she has a very wide range of badness that speaks to an ability to decide for herself just how bad she’ll be at any given time. The fact that Salem then gets really bad – genocidal dictator bad – makes her responsible for that change. To return to the previous comparison, a need to eat might drive someone to commit a technically “bad” thing like, say, stealing bread (Hey, Jean Valjean), but we see how that’s still a good person fulfilling that need in the least harmful way they possibly can. Salem could have fulfilled her own need in ways other than all the horror she’s pulled. 

3. Accepting Responsibility

Finally, to take up the LotR example, even knowing that the Ring influences people with Evil Magic doesn’t mean that everyone caught up in that web is excused of their related crimes. We pity Gollum, but he’s still someone to be wary of, someone we treat as the potential threat he is, and someone who is labeled as a villain for his actions. Sam is not wrong to be furious with the things Gollum has done. They’re not erased in the name of, “But none of that was really his fault. Only the Ring’s. Be mad/wary of the Ring and the Ring only.” Boromir is very susceptible to the Ring’s magic, but that also doesn’t let him off the hook for his choices. He’s berated for suggesting they use the Ring themselves. Aragorn firmly insists he return the Ring to Frodo, making it clear that there will be consequences (a fight) if Boromir doesn’t resist better. In the end, both of these characters – Gollum and Boromir – die as a way of “repenting” for those sins (at least, that’s one possible interpretation of the text). Even Bilbo, so obsessed with the ring that he terrifies Frodo by making that demonic grab for it, immediately apologizes for that action. He (and the story) understands that “Something else was acting upon me” doesn’t mean that the correct response to that is, “Well why should I apologize/face consequences for those actions then? It wasn’t my fault.” It partly was their fault though. There’s a strength of will here that dictates whether you’re going to go “bad” and even if we acknowledge that at some point everyone will inevitably fail, that doesn’t mean they don’t face the repercussions of that failure. Or that they’re not responsible for fighting as hard as they can for as long as they can. 

Which is the reason why Frodo is praised rather than damned. We understand the impact the Ring has on people and we watched him heroically struggle against it up until the very last second. (The same can be said of Boromir and Bilbo). Those two things work in tandem to show us how heroic Frodo is in the face of unimaginable odds. As said, RWBY has done nothing to establish the parameters of the grimm pool’s influence – can Salem resist it? How much? For how long? – but we also never see her struggling to do good even while the magic pulls her in a different direction. The context was never a pre-grimm pool Salem accepting the magic out of noble self-sacrifice, as Frodo did. There’s no scene where Salem begs Ozpin to help her stay on the right path and accepts his assistance like Frodo relied on Sam. And the worry is that if Salem is “cured” then the story won’t force her to face any punishment that equals the extent of her failure to resist the magic’s influence. Yeah, Frodo failed too, but his failure was at the very last moment, after struggling so hard, and it was a failure that was able to be very quickly fixed by Sam. Salem’s failure has been going on for centuries, we’ve never seen her struggle to overcome it, and we can’t fix the sheer amount of horror she’s introduced to the world. Immediately forgiving Frodo is a fair act within the context of his story. Immediately forgiving Salem would not be.

Overall I’d say that the Gods are absolutely responsible for this shit-show and need to be held accountable, but I don’t think that lets Salem off the hook for her own hand in all this. Even if someone chucks me into a situation I initially had no control over, I’m still responsible for the actions I take from then on out. Even if something is acting on me that makes being a good person that much harder, I still have a responsibility to fight against that with everything I have. So up until RWBY definitively says, “The magic is something that no human could have ever overcome or even slowed down and everything Salem did was a direct product of that magic,” she’s guilty. She’s not the only one who is guilty (looking at you, Light and Darkness) but she’s a very big part of it. Which brings me back to the ending point of the previous post: I don’t think RT has the ability to write a satisfying ending for such a complex situation. Not unless they just go the route of Salem being cured, choosing a redemption act, then dying for it. RT simplifies things too much and a story where Salem is excused of any and all responsibility in the name of “She started out as a victim” and “Magic was influencing her” isn’t going to go over well given the breadth and extent of her crimes. Not to mention, as laid out above, the implication that she was capable of lessening those crimes whenever she pleased.