#question…?s predecessor
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reputayswift · 2 years ago
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🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸 I used to think 🤔💭 one ☝️ day 📆 we’d tell the story of US 👥👉📚💬 how we met 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️ and the sparks flew instantly 🫂✨💖🪽 and people would say “they’re the lucky ones” 😮‍💨💬🍀 I used to know 🧐💭 my place was a spot next to you 👫 now I’m searching the room for an empty seat 🕵️‍♀️🪑 ‘cause lately I don’t even know 🙅‍♀️🧐 what page you’re on 📄📜📖❓oh! a simple complication 🤏🥴 miscommunications 🗣️🗯️🙉 lead to faaalllout 💣💥🤯 so many things that I wish you knew 🤞😖🧐 so many walls up I cant break through 😣🤜💥🧱 🧍‍♂️ now I’m standing alone 🧍‍♀️ in a crowded room 🧍‍♀️🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍‍♂️ and we’re not speeeakkin’ 🙅‍♀️🧍‍♀️💬🧍‍♂️ and I’m dying to know 💀🧐 is it killing you 💀🔪🧍‍♂️like it’s killing me yeeeeah 💀🔪🏃‍♀️ I don’t know what to say 🤷‍♀️ 💬 since a twist of fate 〰️➰➿ when it all 👫💕 broke down 🏃‍♂️💔🧎‍♀️ and the story of us 📖👫💕 looks 🫣 a LOT like a tragedy now 💐😔🪦🪦 🥁🥁🥁 (next chapter 📄🤏) 🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸 how’d we end up this way? 🤔 see me nervously 😬🫦 pulling at my clothes 👗🤏 and trying to look busy 👀🧍‍♀️💬🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍‍♂️ and you’re doing your best 🥇 to avoid me 🏃‍♂️💨🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍‍♀️❓ I’m starting to think one day I’ll 🙋‍♀️ tell the story of us 🗣️👉📖👫💕 how I was losing my MIND 😵‍💫🧠💫 when I saw you here 🧍‍♂️👀🧍‍♀️ but you held your PRIDE 🧍‍♂️🫴😌 like you should’ve held ME!! 🫂 OH I’m scared to see the ENDING 🫣📖 why are we preTENDING 🎭 this is NOTHING 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♂️ I’d tell you I miss you 🗣️🤚💬👂🫢 but I don’t know HOW 🤷‍♀️ I’ve never heard silence 🤐🤐 quite this LOUD!! 🔊💥🙉🎼📣 now I’m standing alone 🧍‍♀️ in a crowded room 🧍‍♀️🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍‍♂️ and we’re not speeeakkin’ 🙅‍♀️🧍‍♀️💬🧍‍♂️ and I’m dying to know 💀🧐 is it killing you 💀🔪🧍‍♂️like it’s killing me yeeeeah 💀🔪🏃‍♀️ I don’t know what to say 🤷‍♀️ 💬 since the twist of fate 〰️➰➿ when it all 👫💕 broke down 🏃‍♂️💔🧎‍♀️ and the story of us 📖👫💕 looks 🫣 a LOT like a tragedy now 💐😔🪦🪦 🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸 this is looking like a contest 👀🏆 of who can act like they care less 😌🏆🫲🧍‍♀️ but I liked it better when you were on my side 👫🏆 the battle’s in your hand’s now 🧍‍♀️🫴⚔️🤲🧍‍♂️ but I would lay my armor down 🧍‍♀️🫴🗡️🧎‍♂️ if you said you’d rather love 👫 than fight 🧍‍♀️⚔️🧍‍♂️…..so many things that you 🙋‍♂️ wish 🤞😣 I knew 🙋‍♀️🧠 but the story of us 📖👫💕 might be ending SOON 🧍‍♀️🫳📚🔥 now I’m standing alone 🧍‍♀️ in a crowded room 🧍‍♀️🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍‍♂️ and we’re not speeeakkin’ 🙅‍♀️🧍‍♀️💬🧍‍♂️ and I’m dying to know 💀🧐 is it killing you 💀🔪🧍‍♂️like it’s killing me yeeeeah 💀🔪🏃‍♀️ I don’t know what to say 🤷‍♀️ 💬 since a twist of fate 〰️➰➿ when it all 👫💕 broke down 🏃‍♂️💔🧎‍♀️ and the story of us 📖👫💕 looks 🫣 a LOT like a tragedy now 💐😔🪦🪦 now. 🗣️ nOoOooOoooOoow!!! and we’re not speeeakkin’ 🙅‍♀️🧍‍♀️💬🧍‍♂️ and I’m dying to know 💀🧐 is it killing you 💀🔪🧍‍♂️like it’s killing me yeeeeah 💀🔪🏃‍♀️ I don’t know what to say 🤷‍♀️ 💬 since the twist of fate 〰️➰➿ ‘cause we’re goOing down 🕳️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♂️💔 and the story of us 📖👫💕 looks 🫣 a LOT like a tragedy now 💐😔🪦🪦 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁 thee end. 👩‍🏫
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knuckleblaster · 1 year ago
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On some level I understand the rejection or outright denial of V2's death: it was jarring and brutal, especially for a character who, at least in laws of traditional video game rivals and the rule of thirds, seemed like it'd stick around for longer. This said, inferring from in-game lore as well as dev statements, I believe V2's death, tragic that it is, is not unwarranted; and that it is commonly pigeonholed into a characterization it does not fit into due to its assumed role within the game.
This is long, so it's going under the cut.
Considering its name, it's easy to assume V2 is a new and improved version of its predecessor; but it is more heavily implied that it's simply a version of V1 with thicker plating, and nothing more. [1] V2 was an attempt at salvaging V1's design after war became irrelevant, to capitalize on the resources wasted on a highly advanced war machine by rebranding it as an adaptable worker, for security and (theoretically) other peacetime activities (...not an innuendo). This was a failure; there's no reason to invest in something so refined when a handful of lesser machines could do the same job [2].
If V2 is contextualized within its backstory, it makes a lot more sense why it ate shit so quickly. It is, out of any in-game machine so far, one of the least suited for survival in Hell. Sentries and Streetcleaners were created for war. Swordsmachine(s) and Mindflayers are scrapheads, constantly adapting to create (and protect) their perfect, lethal body. [3] If anything, it's on the same level as a Drone, able to defend itself in a limited capacity, but not intentionally programmed or built for combat. Faced with V1, something built for perfect, swift destruction, a machine made for peace would stand even less of a chance than normal, even with an equal level of mobility and build.
V2 is also doomed, in a very literal sense, by the narrative. In a meta sense, it does not matter to the game story whatsoever [4]. V1 is the butterfly whose wing flaps set Gabriel's story in motion, but V2 has no such connection to his story, and is thus irrelevant. Even its lore entry is overshadowed by information about V1/its connection to V1. A third fight, as well, was never in the running, not necessarily due to anything in the game lore, but because its first and second encounters are all it needs: a third rematch would be repetitive and messy [5]. The reason for its extremely violent death sequence is to ensure there was no question as to its fate [6].
In regards to its personality; it is oft-headcanoned as loud, irritable, and competitive, but this characterization is more likely due to its color as well as its assumed role as a "rival" to V1; rather than based upon its in-game actions. Although its initial intentions are up to interpretation [7], comparing its actions and mechanics to other enemies fully rationalizes its anger. Although it's fairly easy to enrage in-fight, the criteria for its enrage state is much more specific than other enemies, and it's quite easy to not trigger it at all. Cerberi will enrage after one of its kind dies, Malicious Faces and Mindflayers after a certain amount of damage has been dealt (on Violent). Most notably, as the only other character with a rematch, Gabriel begins his second fight enraged after his first defeat [3], which can imply by extension that even though V2 is taking its second fight more seriously [8], it is still not outwardly angry. Its enrage state is only triggered when its patience is depleted (the player avoids it for too long), or in its second fight when it has been punched with the Knuckleblaster. These can be interpreted as indicators that V2 likes it when the fight is "fair": when it's not being avoided and picked at from a distance, or being hit with its own arm; which is frankly pretty fucking mean. A side note: Returning to its creation, it can also potentially be inferred that V2 was intentionally programmed with a rational, controlled, and even marketable personality, easily suppressed or overwritten for ease of use.
In another game, or if V1 was the protagonist, perhaps V2 would not be dead. Instead, V2 is doomed by its creators, both in-game and in reality. It mirrors V1 in action and Gabriel in mind, but unlike them, it has no place in this story beyond a truly fantastic duo of fights. Although its story has any number of potential rewritings or epilogues [9], its doom was always intended. It's easy to mourn lost potential, and its end is intensely tragic; but I believe it is a tragedy that meshes nicely with the rest of the game's story. V2 is dead, and not a second too soon.
Footnotes:
1.
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Along with the lore entry for V2:
V1’s planned production was cancelled and an updated model, V2, was developed instead, using the standardized plating, since durability was far more important during times of peace when no bloodshed was necessary.
2.
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twitter.com/HakitaDev/status/1538313328715513857
3. in-game lore entries, can be read on ultrakill.miraheze.org or here in one document: steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2245904838
4.
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5.
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twitter.com/HakitaDev/status/1538336055681863680
6. "And then V2 dies as hard as anyone could possibly die to make sure people understand he's fucking dead and is not coming back" - dev commentary, 05:08:09 (youtu.be/kaImho5JioI?si=v4_m90nfLOY-DyEZ&t=18489)
7.
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8.
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9. Notably, Dream's End Come True / v2isdead.com.
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mikashisus · 2 months ago
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just as a star dies
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SYNOPSIS: a star's fate is sorrowful, but at least it's quiet.
PAIRING: capitano x gn!reader (platonic)
TAGLIST ! @wystiix @tragedy-of-commons @pixelcafe-network
warnings: brief mentions of experiments and blood
word count: 1.3k
notes: this is set in the same universe as my tartaglia fic 'loyal dogs' and the mc is the same one from that fic :3 except this is like... in a future arc and stuff. the only difference between this mc and that one is that this mc is from mondstadt LMAO
eydís try not to write an mc from mond challenge (IMPOSSIBLE). ALSO this is loosely based off ‘no longer you’ and ‘just a man’ from epic the musical!!
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“Did you hear me?” 
The commanding voice of your superior drew you out of your daze. You blinked, looking up at the figure towering above you. 
He stood at least two and a half heads taller than you, with a helmet covering his face and a large fur coat draped around his shoulders. The Northern winds whipped violently, thrashing his long black hair around. 
He reached a clawed hand out towards you, picking you up by the hood of your own fur coat and placing you on your feet. 
“I said: did you hear me?” He questioned again, a little firmer this time. 
You shot him a halfhearted glare and picked up your sword, placing it back in its holster at your hip. “‘fraid I didn’t, Sir.” 
He stared at you for a long, grueling moment, before letting out a sigh. “I’ll repeat it once more. This time be sure to listen.” 
There was once a prince of a forgotten land. 
The blizzards of the North pierced your skin, and you pulled your hood over your head. You followed closely behind your predecessor, mirroring his footsteps. 
He fell deeply in love with the princess of a kingdom much richer than his. Falling prey to his wit and charms, she agreed to marry him. 
A few years after their marriage, they bore a son. 
Stopping to rest for a while, you shook off your now wet fur coat and laid it on the damp floor of the cave. 
Capitano knelt to the ground, piling up the logs you gathered and starting a fire. It crackled to life, the flames dancing wildly in the darkness. You removed your boots and took a seat on the cold floor, raising your shaking hands to the fire. 
The prince, now a king, was forced to leave his wife and newborn son behind as he trudged off to fight a war in another land. 
Without a single death within his army, they emerged victorious from the war, though the cost was great. 
The King had to make a difficult choice whether to spare the child of his enemies, or destroy a threat in the making. 
The blizzards had somehow gotten worse, though that didn’t mean you could rest from your training. 
‘Get up,‘ he motioned, and you could practically hear his gruff voice in your head as you stood with a whine, ‘there is no rest for the wicked.’ 
Outside the cave, his sword materialized in his hand, the ice trickling and cracking as it formed into a sharp, dazzling blade that oozed with a filthy dark aura. 
It sliced the air as he pointed it towards you, challenging you. 
Without a word, you reached for your own silvery blade, the words carved into the hilt staring back at you in bold, mocking letters. 
And thus he posed the question: ‘When does a man become a monster?’ 
Breathless, you laid on the icy ground, your vision blurred as you tried to regain your senses. Your head was heavy, and it felt as if there was a large wooden plank pressing down on your chest. 
A clawed hand reached out, easing towards you when you made no move to take it. Your vision cleared somewhat as you moved your clumpy wet hair out of your eyes. 
Sending the man above you a glare, you firmly grasped onto his hand, and with little effort at all, he hoisted you to your feet. 
‘You’ve gotten stronger.’ 
Staring up at him with an exhausted look, you scoffed and turned back to the cave, leaving him alone in the raging storm. 
The King and his forces began their journey home. 
The festival of your oceanside hometown was in full swing. The streets were lively, and garland decorated the streetlamps. Lanterns were strung between rooftops, casting a warm glow upon the cobblestone. 
The rowdy and vigorous woodwinds of the musicians in the square invited all to join in and dance. The crowds of laughing, joyful faces, pushed and pulled as more were drawn into the festivities. 
Traditional, elegantly crafted beer mugs that once belonged in a glass cabinet in your father’s home, were being passed around from person to person. 
Tables were found on every corner, filled to the brim and packed with what seemed like an endless plethora of foods and homemade dishes. They sat unevenly upon each other, and just one touch would send it all toppling to the floor. 
The first island they stumbled upon housed a cyclops with the biting urge to crush and destroy all who disturbed his peace. 
The King’s forces fought back, and some had been lost amongst the chaos. 
With heavy hearts, they retreated, only to face the blinding wrath of a sea god who had no intentions of letting them leave alive. 
Shivering in the cold of the cell, you cursed. How had it all come to this? 
Silently, the aching hurt in your heart that you yearned so badly to blame on something all these years, finally found and locked onto its target. 
Narrowly escaping his clutches, they were pushed onto the isle of a powerful witch. 
A new foe stood in their way, but the King’s resolve was strong. With the help of divine intervention, he defeated the witch and fled with his men, only to find themselves in the underworld searching for a prophet who could guide them home. 
When did the reason become the blame? 
Staring out at the vast empty plains of white, you felt as if you had seen this sight once before, during a time when you were small and weak. 
A time where all you had to care about was not falling onto the ice as your father tightened the laces on your skates. 
A time where you once had to oversee a whole tent of injured soldiers and your only worry was to keep them all alive. 
A time where your only fear was to stay alive in a fight with a rabid monster that had emerged from the depths, all grotesque and bloody, with a sole flashing eye and wild hair that stuck out every which way. 
A time where your body shook and lost control of its own limbs as a cackling doctor watched in amusement, using you as his labrat. 
And thus the prophet said: ‘I see a man who will make it home alive, but that man is no longer you.’ 
You turned to your superior, a tired look in your eyes and a question on your lips. He met your gaze, already knowing what you were going to ask before the words tumbled out of your mouth. 
Did the King make it home alive? 
He sighed then, and it was heavy and deep, and that was enough to tell you that yes— the King had made it home alive, but there was more to the story. 
After trial and test, and more tribulations thrown his way that led to a series of unfortunate events and many more deaths under that King’s hand, he made it back to his wife and son. 
But the man he returned as was a monster, a shell of the man he had left as. He was no longer the same. 
You stared into the crackling flames of the fire, contemplating the tale he took the time to tell you. Why had this story been necessary? 
Before you could ask, he pointed to the sky. 
”Just as a star dies when they run out of fuel and collapse under their own crushing pressure, does a person lose themselves when faced with challenges no ordinary mortal can withstand. The blood of many rests on our hands, and one day, we are fated to collapse and explode under the pressure of the mountain of bodies of the people we have slain.” 
He met your wide eyes and placed a comforting clawed hand on your shoulder. “We are not the same people as we were.” 
His voice was firm. He stopped there, but you knew he wanted to add on to that— ‘Surely you can understand why I have shared this tale with you, now.’ 
And you did.
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© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.
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cityofmeliora · 2 months ago
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What does terzology know about the overthrow of Papa III? Do we have a hypothesis about the reasons for it?
very topical question. i was just thinking about this, actually.
as we know, Terzo was dragged off the stage while singing 'Monstrance Clock' at his final concert on September 30, 2017 in Gothenburg, Sweden.
youtube
it's tempting to think Sister Imperator simply hated Terzo and couldn't wait to get rid of him so she could put Cardi in charge, which i think is at least a tiny bit true, but not entirely true.
i watched the Era 3 lore video series 'The Summoning' with some friends the a while ago, and it was the first time they'd watched it. one of them remarked they were surprised that Sister Imperator seemed to be genuinely hyping up Terzo.
this is true! Sister Imperator did actually hype up Terzo during his first year as Papa. at the beginning of Era 3, she was deeply disappointed with the Nameless Ghouls and The Ghost Project's failure to make significant progress in their mission to convert the world to their cult. she was initially very excited for Terzo's reign and believed that he would be extremely successful.
SISTER IMPERATOR: Brothers and Sisters, you know why you are here tonight. This Ministry is now seven years into The Ghost Project. Seven long years of work. Two Papas, two albums, one gold. These are indeed some respectable numbers, but let me give you some others. Churches opened: zero. Governments toppled: zero. World leaders converted to the cause: zero. You call yourselves salesmen? Masterminds? You have done shit! And don't blame the music. The music is the very manifestation of His Dark Majesty. And don't blame this fine merchandise! It's a disgrace! Papa 2 has been let go. He is a miserable, wounded, and bitter old man, and he is washed up! But let's look forward now. This is a new piece of music. And these are your new masks. And this is Papa 2's brother. He is a full 3 months younger. This man will take the band further than any of us could ever have imagined. I present to you now… Papa Emeritus III! The Summoning (part 1) (May 20, 2015)
Terzo did end up being very successful, even before Meliora released.
SISTER IMPERATOR: It has arrived! Some of you did not believe the new Papa would be able to cast a shadow as wide and as far as his great predecessor. Your faithlessness is now dust in my mouth. You should be on your knees humbling yourselves before what has been accomplished here! All you need to do is look outside. Look at the graffiti on the walls, look at the lights illuminated at night, where once there was only darkness. The Summoning IV: The Arrival || Unholy / Unplugged - Los Angeles, California, USA (August 21, 2015)
Sister Imperator felt she was right to have faith in Terzo. she continued to preach about Terzo's power and demanded that others respect him.
SISTER IMPERATOR: Welcome! Welcome, my faithful brothers and sisters! Your presence here is proof of your commitment. If you are unsure, cast off your doubts now. There is no turning back. The rite you're about to witness is but one small but essential movement in our spiritual revolution. We prayed, and he has arrived! But! But! He will demand more of you! He will need to hear from the abyss of your hearts that you are ready. His is a voice of the pit and the pinnacle! His Nameless Ghouls are the music of the [UNINTELLIGIBLE], but your holy noise is the key! You must cry out his name! Say it with me now: Papa Emeritus! Again! Again! Again! Very good. Shh! Shh! Shhhhhh! Listen. Do you hear it? Do you? It's the terrible sound of the ignorant– the mistrust and anger of the masses. The world is unstable and they have lost their balance. But we, here together, are the new foundation. We are the shape of things to come! There's not much time. We won't be able to do the required incantation. We must let the music do the summoning. My brethren, my brethren, bow your heads and raise your horns to pierce the veil of heaven, so the skies will be torn asunder! And Papa may fall into our midst! Now is the moment. Now, there is no other. Papa Emeritus III! Ghost! Ghost is here! Los Angeles, CA, USA (October 26, 2015)
so what was the turning point? the 2016 Grammy win.
listen. Sister Imperator hated that Grammy so fucking much. this seems weird because she wanted the band to be successful, but here's the thing: Sister Imperator is a zealot. a real religious freak. as shown by her words in The Summoning part 1, she fully believes that the true mission and purpose of The Ghost Project is to serve satan and convert the world to his church. she was happy that Ghost's success meant more people were hearing their message, but she was very, very mad that Terzo and the Nameless Ghouls seemed to be enjoying their success a little too much. she felt like they had lost focus, forgetting their mission for satan and instead focusing on their commercial success. and to her, the Grammy was representative of the establishment / mainstream society, something they should avoid as the leaders of satan's flock of black sheep.
SISTER IMPERATOR: The industry has noted our good works with their trinket. And as a result, our message is carried further and wider. But do we take such trinkets as sacrament and the measure of true accomplishment? No! We don't need their approval. The truth of our work is not measured by awards and nods from the establishment. [...] I have here letters from your followers, demanding that we explain why nothing has changed. They have made their own sacrifices. But what have you done? How will you answer them? By holding up your golden gramophone? Is this the change you promised? Is this the sign of a new age? It is nothing! It is another false idol. The Summoning V: The Square And Hammer (September 13, 2016)
notably, she never said anything negative about Terzo while verbally abusing the Ghouls. she still demanded respect for him and his position.
SISTER IMPERATOR: You are supposed to lead. It is your task. Your task! To lead! I think you're afraid of real change. Let's take a breath. I think I understand the problem. You think Papa's words should be enough. But then you misunderstand the nature of true power. Papa is not a mouthpiece for the Dark Divinity. He is not a pawn. He is a mediator. He is the path. His way is the truth and the darkness! And you– you are his apostles. And yet, you deny, you deny! The Summoning VI: The Proceedings Intensify (Oct 17, 2016)
... but that doesn't mean she wasn't also mad at him, too. we just didn't see it.
Terzo was very proud of his Grammy, and he did like to brag about it a little bit. Sister Imperator would have definitely been mad about that.
PAPA EMERITUS III: Alright! How are you feeling now? Quite good, right? Yeah! Alright, I know you like your hard-rocking shit here in Skåne, right? Enough of those ballads– award-winning ballad, actually. AUDIENCE: [APPLAUSE] PAPA EMERITUS III: Oh, thank you. Malmö, Sweden (February 25, 2016)
PAPA EMERITUS III: Yes! A Grammy award winning song! Right here, right now! That doesn't happen every day. Acoustic performance at 93X Radio - Minneapolis, Minnesota (July 28, 2016)
Sister Imperator had respect for Terzo's position as Papa, but she didn't respect him.
it's not like Terzo didn't care! Terzo is actually described as "less rebellious". and we know from the words of Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis II that Terzo had always been very dedicated to his church and the people in it. Terzo was a believer in the dark lord, and he was a very hard worker. the problem is that Terzo genuinely wanted a better and brighter future for the world, while Sister hoped to hasten its demise. (don't forget the original explicitly stated mission statement of Ghost was to promote the apocalypse + human extinction). i think they both knew his vision for the future of the church / the world was not in alignment with hers. i think Sister Imperator turned on Terzo when he started acting too confident in himself.
Sister Imperator started making plans to replace Terzo as early as November 2016, almost an entire year before he was dragged off the stage at his last concert. while i do think Sister Imperator disliked Terzo and was happy to get rid of him, i don't think she felt her decision had anything to do with her personal feelings. Sister Imperator talks directly to satan (as shown in Chapter 5) and receives visions (as stated in The Summoning part 5 and part 7). she had a vision that indicated it would soon be time to replace Papa 3 with Papa 4. she started making arrangements accordingly, and Nihil went along with it.
SISTER IMPERATOR: Despite your weakness, and your cowardliness, your failures, I still believe in you. And I believe in you because I have seen the future! I have already been witness to three transfigurations, and each time I can see that we are closer to the final glory, and I have seen you rise to the occasion each time. So can you do it again? [...] After all we have been through in these past few days, all the shames laid bare, are you ready to start anew? The new coming is about to begin. Will you take up your instruments? Will you be able to commit to the utter annihilation of all this is false? All that is greed? All that is staid and conformist and empty? Hm? Then rise. RISE!!!! Now! I give you another chance at transformation. But you must beg. You must demand to be sacrificed! You must prostrate your hearts while you stand tall in the dark, for the fourth incarnation of Papa will guide us. The Summoning VII: Believe This (Nov 14, 2016)
i don't know why Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil decided Terzo's reign would end on September 30th, 2017. and i can't fully explain why they chose to humiliate him by having him dragged off the stage. (even Secondo, who they thought was terrible at his job, was allowed a dignified ending.) and i can't explain why they desecrated his body by using his severed head as a prop for a photoshoot. but idk, it kinda seems like maybe they just hated him.
TLDR: Sister Imperator genuinely believed in Terzo, but she turned on him when he started acting in a way she didn't like. Terzo died as he lived– being used and betrayed by the people he dedicated his life to.
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evilminji · 10 months ago
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"!!!" Noise! Quirk is haunted!
Waaaait a second. Oh? My god? You know what would be HILARIOUS?
If Danny was sent on basicly "no, you are still Baby. You can't be King until you're old enough" type Royal Training missions by his Regent Council. Such as? Checking in on Ghosts that, for various Reality Specific Reasons, can't leave their posts and join the Zone yet.
Health and Wellness check, mother duckers.
You know! Like those various Ghosts over in the Haunted McGuffin department! Like? Is YOUR inherited sword or ring or, say, Quirk? Filled with the souls of your predecessors? Yep! That's their royal department! They're with the census and Aid offices.
.........they get lonely.
Why the FUCK does no one remember they exsist? Is it their office's location?
......they bet its the location.
(No, it's because no body wants to file paperwork once they're dead.)
Still! He's sent to be The Intern. Is BELOVED. Finally! People are TAKING THEM SERIOUSLY!!! Oh He's just the BEST! And he... yeeeeah, he's taking the fact he grabbed their department out of a hat? Too the VOID.
Absolutely, boss. This department? Suuuuper important. Very serious.
Please stop crying.
So now he's here! With his uncomfortable uniform, clip on bow tie, and clip board. Trying to interview these guys who are NOT being helpful. All they're shouting is "who are you?" And "how did you get in here?!" And Quirk something or other... Look, buddy(s)! He has places to BE!
Answer the questions!
But they won't! Because Some Dude? Just showed up inside One For All. With a clipboard. He's hanging out in Izuku's subconscious. Keeps STICKING HIS WHOLE ASS HEAD out of Izuku's chest like a chest-burster to try and interview HIM too. Pull Yagi into it.
Like?? Get out of there!!!
No >:/ answer my damn questions!
@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @spidori
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velvet-vox · 2 months ago
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Why King Candy has been so underrated and misunderstood for a long time (Still is, but to a lesser extent)
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(All the images in this post come from the video linked below)
Hi everyone; so, usually, I'm not a trend chaser, in fact, I completely missed out on the hype of the Murder Drones finale by not releasing something for the occasion, as I have been very busy this past couple of months, and still am, but I've decided to make a special, out of program post just for my new current hyper fixation, that being King Candy from Wreck-It Ralph, who, for the past couple of weeks, has slowly risen up to become my third favourite Disney movie villain of all time.
And all of that, as some of you might have guessed, happened because I watched @king-crawler 's two hour long video essay on the character and the movie that he comes from.
Needless to say, just like many others before, it inspired me to add my own two cents to the conversation, and talk about some points that I haven't seen mentioned anywhere else.
This is probably the only Wreck-It Ralph related analysis that I'm ever going to make.
I even thought about scrapping this whole analysis, because midway through development I thought that I was just spewing out nonsense, but I kept going because some of my points may give food for thought to someone who understood this character way better than me.
I may reblog some analysis/art posts of this character, but I'm not going to turn WIR into a staple of my blog; however, if I see a lot of people in the comments or the reblogs adding stuff or points to my arguments, I could always make a sequel post to this one.
But first, I need to get something out of the way immediately.
Spoilers below the cut if you never saw this movie, kind of important, as it is the movie's major plot twist:
King Candy is Turbo.
Who's Turbo? Watch the movie.
With all that said, enjoy the read, I'll now elaborate on the meaning of my title, also, here's the video in question; I highly encourage everyone to check it out, as it is a way better sequel to Wreck-It Ralph than the one who was lost in the depths of Lake Laogai:
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Clarifications:
Wreck-It Ralph is an amazing movie, but one for which I've never had much to think about.
Don't get me wrong, I always considered it to be the smartest Disney movie ever made since my first watch, but I saw it for the first time relatively late, after I had consumed other Disney movies as childhood classics and other crossover movies featuring video game characters, so it never had neither a nostalgia nor hyper fixation factor as reasons as to why I should have put the story under a microscope after that.
Also, as Rando says at the beginning of their video, it is not a movie that blew me away after my first watch. Or the second. Or the third.
Why is this section important? It is important because these are my subjective opinions of the movie, which are unfortunately going to subtly influence what I'm about to say in one way or another, regardless of me trying to speak from a place of supposed "objectivity".
I'm really passionate about this world now thanks to Randomalistic, but you won't get the same vibe from this post as you would get from one made by long time fans of this movie.
Ok?
Good.
Next:
King Candy/Turbo has always been... in a weird spot for me.
Just like the movie where he comes from, I never really cared about Turbo until a month ago, despite always feeling like I should have loved him a lot more, especially since Deltarune chapter 2 released a while ago, and the character of Spamton G Spamton is someone for whom I have very strong feelings about; and Turbo, in a technical sense, is literally the spiritual predecessor of that guy (actually, Turbo is the spiritual predecessor of a lot of similar characters, he kinda was ahead of his time).
If I had made a Disney tier list for their movie villains, a completely subjective one for that matter, I would have put him in A tier, but thinking that he should have gone in B tier... while also feeling like neither were appropriate placements for him.
Randomalistic's video finally helped me fall in love with the character; so much in fact, that it got me thinking:
"Damn, if Turbo is actually this amazing of a villain, why was(is) he so underrated and overlooked by general audiences, when he admittedly is, in my opinion, one of the best Disney villains of all time? Frollo is by and large considered the best villain out of any Disney movie, and the HOND was nowhere near as successful as Wreck-It Ralph when it first released, so it can't just be a matter of first impressions (?). Maybe there are other factors, that stop audiences from recognizing Turbo as the Magnum Opus of villainy that he truly is..."
... And that's exactly what I'm going to discuss!
Let's get right into it.
The minor stuff.
First things first:
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He's ugly. I'm sorry to all of the people who ironically and unironically simp for him, but that's a design only a mother could love.
On a serious note, KC and Turbo's designs always felt... not very eye-catching to me? (The bug form is excluded from this conversation)
I'm not saying these are bad designs, far from it; but each form has on them a certain amount of design decisions that, by the authors own decisions, make them unappealing to a viewer like me (I'm using myself as reference point because the topic that I'm talking about is inherently subjective).
Starting off with King Candy, is design has to balance a lot of different aspects simultaneously: it has to be eyecatching, so that the viewer can pay attention to him as an antagonist, and believable enough so that the watchers buy the fact that he is the King of Sugar Rush and not someone else, but it also has to be generic and fake enough so that it can later on add up to the fact this is just a performance, a facade, a ruse, a costume, and not the real character, it also needs to be friendly enough so that the audience can be manipulated together with Ralph into believing that he actually is a good guy;
I could go on and on listing off all the amazing things, that the King Candy facade pulls off simultaneously, but exactly because the design has to feel real and fake at the same time, it also, by proxy, ends up feeling weird, and that inexplicable sentiment can end up alienating the viewers who are watching the movie and the ones who have finished consuming it without thinking too deeply about what the meaning of the KC's facade actually was.
In the case of Turbo's design, all the people working behind the movie did such an amazing job making him look as scary, ugly, alien, and deranged as possible, all the while keeping him relatively PG friendly; the result clearly paid off, but Turbo's ugliness is not as slick as the likes of Ratigan's, nor is it as nightmarishly horrifying as the Other Mother's.
The most nightmare fuel qualities of Turbo's design are hidden out of plain sight, which is basically a recurring theme with his character.
To put it in a funny way, his looks neither end up in the conventionally attractive territory that most other Disney villains fall into, nor do they grab the attention of the Monster Fu###rs crowd.
I have zero things to say about the Cy-bug form, but I do have a section later on where I talk about that entire scene in and of itself.
All in all, it might just be me, but the first impressions of this character's design don't really do him any favours when it comes to his popularity.
I now love both designs, but before, they just didn't click with me, and I think some other people might understand what I'm talking about.
Admittedly, I could have explained this section better, but these were mostly my personal opinions and they are not really important in the grand scheme of things, unless somebody else agrees with me, in that case I'd have to take a closer look at the situation.
Second of all:
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The marketing.
To be honest, I feel like what really elevated all of the most iconic Disney villains into pop culture status was a joint push from the company and the artists to include these characters into more stories and products.
Like, sorry to all of the Oogie Boogie fans, but that character is barely in his movie and doesn't do a lot, and he wouldn't be nearly as iconic as he is if Disney didn't use him again multiple times after his first debut.
And the same can honestly be said for all of Disney's most popular villains; they got used multiple times in multiple different projects, that either kept them mostly the same, changed them with some unique twists (that change in quality, but that's up to you), expanded on their preestablished characters, or put them into unique situations that showcased just how versatile they are.
Kingdom Hearts, The House Of Mouse and Descendants are very obvious examples of what I'm talking about, but even appearances in lesser known stories like Lady Tremaine in Cinderella 3, Captain Hook in Jake and the Neverland pirates, or the entirety of Disney Twisted Wonderland help solidify these characters as pop culture icons;
All except Frollo.
Frollo is the only one whose hype and cultural recognizability wasn't built up by the company or the media in which he was featured, but by the fans of the original movie.
And despite Disney almost never used that character ever again after his debut, he, his movie, and Hellfire still get a lot of prise and are talked about classics to this very day.
Because Frollo is just that freaking awesome.
Turbo, on the other hand... is barely in anything.
Let's get the most obvious stuff out of the way first: King Candy is a relatively new character, released in an era where Disney was slowly starting to integrate the new, corporate ideals that we see today.
All of the villains that I've mentioned previously already became tried and true successes by that point, so even if the company doesn't care about having good villains anymore they still use their likeability because it has already shown in the past to bring in audiences.
It's also the main reason as to why Mother Gothel is used so rarely: King Candy, as the last truly great Disney movie villain (excluding Tamatoa, who's barely used anyway, and movies not produced by their main animation studio), arrived at a point in time when the company wasn't pushing for their villains anymore, and instead actively sanitized some of them in their new stories (you know what I'm talking about); therefore, Turbo, being actually incredibly dark on second look, and with no actual intention of tuning him down like Jafar because he hadn't already reached the iconic status by that point, had no reason to make any big appearance ever again or be paraded around as much.
There are some more reasons as to why Turbo likely doesn't have more stuff dedicated to him, like the fact that he is technically 3 characters at the same time, but I don't want to prolong this section too much.
So instead, how about we take a look at some of his other appearances outside of Wreck-It Ralph?
Let's see...
He has various cards in Lorcana, which is his most recent appearance, mind you;
He became a playable character in the 7th season of Disney Speedstorm, a game where I was hoping he would be the main villain, due to a variety of reasons, but hey, that's perfectly fine;
And he was mentioned multiple times in Disney Heroes Battle Mode, a game where he hopefully is the secret main villain, as it would pay off a large amount of story and design decisions chosen for that game, but it's probably just wishful thinking and unless the game's plug is pulled, I doubt we'll see him anytime soon.
Ok, it's more than nothing, but it's also not that special if you ask me.
But hey! At least he got a boss fight in a Kingdom Hearts game! That's more than Randall can say! He was a major boss in Union Cross... the mobile game... that you can't play anymore... and since KH adheres strictly to its own canon most of the time, it also probably means that we'll never get to play through the storyline of the first WIR in any future mainline game, and we're more likely to see a world based around the second movie instead.......
Yeah.
That seems to be it, unless I'm missing something huge (feel free to let me know).
This section is important because Cruella De Vil became one of my favourite Disney villains of all time not after seeing her in the original movie, but after I saw her in 101 Dalmatian Street, a niche show that almost nobody knows; so other medium appearances are important to these characters popularity, especially when not all of these villains are Frollo.
ALSO, PLUS 1+, I was originally going to cut this point, but I decided to add it anyway: the Italian voice actor.
After recently rewatching this movie in English, (I'm Italian, we in Italy translate the movies to our language because it's easier than learning an entirely different language for them), I have to really admit that Alan Tudik's voice performance really does a lot of heavy lifting for the character's memorability.
This is not to say that the Italian voice dub sucks or that King Candy's Italian voice actor does a bad job, in fact, the voices are actually quite similar to each other, it's just that Alan's performance has that small edge of hidden bitterness that really brings the character together; though I do prefer Turbo's Italian voice for its twist reveal: the more raspy, heavy tone of the actor really highlights the vicious, alien nature of his character, as well as the sense of dread that Vanellope is feeling in this moment; I encourage you to give it a watch.
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Again, this is extremely minor, and it really only affects me specifically, but don't worry, it's not going to have influence over the rest of this post.
These were just additional points and not the actual meat of my argument, so now I'll start discussing what I actually wanted to talk about from the very beginning:
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Who is he?
I think that one of the main reasons as to why Turbo is so underrated is because we spend way less time than with most other Disney villains (before him) to know him as a person.
Think about it:
Most other Disney villains, or at least the most popular ones, all have moments where they are doing nothing to progress the plot, that are dedicated solely to get us to know them better.
Hades has several moments with his minions to show off his personality and anger, Jafar has silly little moments with Iago that show off his depravity, Maleficent has talks with her crow that make her more dynamic, Ursula has her introduction scene where she spies on Ariel and does nothing but talking, and Captain Hook... has 30% of his screen time dedicated to just that.
Heck, Hellfire, one of the most iconic sequences in all of Disney, is just a character set piece for Frollo, and it's arguably completely disposable, as it doesn't really do anything to progress the story, it just explores Frollo's character in deeper depth and that happens to make the big difference when it comes to him.
King Candy doesn't really have an obvious character centric moment, something easy for the audience to quickly latch onto: every time we see him, he is always doing something to push the plot forward.
Yeah, there's that small character interaction with the Donut cops when he gets glasses, and other small moments here and there, like the would you hit a guy with glasses joke, but nothing truly character-defying.
I also don't count King Candy's first scene as a character centric moment, as that's more of an introduction rather than an elaboration, but it is technically valid, even if it ultimately is just a facade that he puts up to serve his needs.
Speaking of which: the fact that most of what we see of Turbo throughout the story could be entirely fake is definitely something that I could use to make the argument in this section stronger, but I'd rather save it up for later.
Also, side note:
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I think that the moment most dedicated to him only, to show off a different, "true" aspect of his personality, is when he is walking back and forth in the castle waiting for his cops to show up again.
This moment is so interesting on rewatch, as it is one of the few moments in the entire movie where I can safely say that Turbo is being 100% genuine and isn't putting up any facade whatsoever, as there really is no benefit to him appearing distressed in this situation.
In general, it's funny to think that Turbo's most genuine reactions are of fear.
Back to point one, do you wanna know why Maleficent was given a crow in Sleeping Beauty? The reason as to why was for her to have someone to bounce off, a way for the writers to showcase more facets of her character, and while Candy has Sour Bill, the movie never uses the relationship between the two to show off a different aspect of his character.
To be clear, I'm not saying that Turbo is a worse character than these other Disney villains, or that without these moments of calmness he doesn't work, one great example
Do you know that Calhoun in early development had a camouflage ability, meant to highlight how she hides her feelings but was scrapped because it made her harder to relate to? Well, let's just say that Turbo's entire character is a What If scenario where that idea actually went through.
It's a double edged sword: King Candy is so interesting because he is so mysterious and surprising all throughout the movie, but exactly because he has to be so mysterious, he is not a character as easy to understand as some of the other villains from the company; it's incredibly easy to miss out on just how cruel he is and the full scale of all the damage that he has done.
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I, AM, .......the twist villain.
There's also something to be said about how popular to the conversation the twist that King Candy is Turbo became.
Everyone loves this reveal, am I right?
It may not be the best moment in the movie, but my god if it isn't hype, all thanks to the music, the lighting, the setup, yada yada yada....
But the identity reveal scene is to Candy what the Genocide Boss Fight is to Sans: it's the most impactful moment about his character, to the point where it becomes the entire baseline where most discussions are built around, which, more often than not, lead a lot of people to overlook other things about Turbo.
Let me explain: how many analysis videos have you seen where the person making it talks more about the setup and subtle hints present in King Candy's earlier scenes that slowly build up to the twist and less about the events happening in it?
The reveal is amazing, don't get me wrong, but if Rando's video didn't come along to dive deep into King Candy's earlier scenes with the twist already in mind, the true impact of what Candy had been doing throughout the entire movie up to this point would have been lost on me, and I can imagine someone else feeling the same, as me, casual enjoyer of WIR, have been conditioned to think of Candy more for his well planned out surprise, rather than for how that surprise makes the character more engaging (I hope this makes sense).
I also want to mention this video ranking all the different twist villains from Disney and Pixar where CellSpex says that the Turbo twist is useless, since the movie doesn't do much with it afterwards.
Now, aside from the fact that CellSpex is clearly in the wrong and she's missing the point, I think this lack of reconsideration highlights that casual viewers care more about the Turbo plot twist than they care about Turbo himself.
But honestly, I don't believe people focusing too much on the twist is that big of a problem, more so, the problem stems when you want to use the twist... to discuss something else.
Now, I think it's perfectly fine if you want to use Turbo to explain why other Disney twist villains don't work, but when the villains that King Candy is compared to the most are Hans, Yokai, and Bellwether, you kind of start to think that he is only the best of the worst, and not an actual amazing antagonist in his own right.
It may not be a message that was intended to be sent, but it is something that may subconsciously cling to someone's brain, especially when you consider that there might be a huge audience of people who watch these videos because they saw Hans in the title (wishing for the video to bash him), and have seen Frozen, Zootopia and Big Hero 6, but have never seen Wreck-It Ralph in their lives, and they get all their knowledge of Turbo from them.
It's exasperating, especially when King Candy has way more in common with renaissance Disney villains than contemporary ones.
Yes, through technicality, he is a twist villain, but he's more so a hybrid antagonist to be honest.
And even worse than people just grouping up Candy with a bunch of morons, as I've just discovered by reading a comment from this Turbo Tribute, is that some people apparently despise him for starting the Disney Twist villain trend: even if he's leagues better than his competition, the simple fact that you can attribute some of the blame for the fall of villainy onto him, is enough for someone to despise him.
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King of the Cy-bugs (feat Rockotar):
Very recently, I've rewatched Rockotar's video analysis of the first Wreck-It Ralph, and when he arrived at the "Welcome, to the Boss Level!" scene, I decided to analyse all the possible reasons as to why he (and possibly many others, such as, admittedly, myself) wasn't as entranced by it as basically any other scene from the movie, who he had been praising non-stop up until this point.
And I think I understood why: aside from the fact that this scene is only a setup for Ralph's sacrifice (and I wished the actual boss fight to be longer and more creative), the Boss Fight is less of a climax for Ralph's journey and more so a character study for who Turbo/King Candy is.
In my opinion, this is the closest we ever get to a "villain at rest" moment with Turbo because in every other scene of the movie, King Candy is always doing something, he's always active and we never see him doing anything that doesn't coincide with his role.
And, paradoxically to what I've just said about this being a "villain at rest" moment, in this scene, he is still doing something and being active in the plot, only that this time, instead of advancing the story, he's holding it back from its conclusion.
This scene simplifies Turbo's character to his most bare bone essentials: he's a short-tempered jerk, a power hungry murderer, a virus; it's all pretty interesting stuff once you take a sweet moment to break it down.
However, there's a point that I briefly mentioned before that I want to bring up; this creature that we are laying your eyes upon, is now three different people all at once, King Candy (anxious, quiet and manipulative), Turbo (short-tempered, competitive and spiteful), and now this Cy-bug hybrid.
To reiterate what I've said before, if you don't think about it for long enough, you aren't going to understand who either character is exactly.
Because that's the big thing: all of his facades, implied development off screen and reactions are so well constructed that at certain points, it feels like we're following two different characters simultaneously, which fits perfectly with the narrative that so called "real" Turbo died and now he's no longer himself, but...
I'm scratching the bottom of the barrel to bring up other possible points as to why this character is so underrated, and the lack of a clear identity seems like a pretty obvious thing to me.
But that's only two out of the three characters I mentioned; we need to take a second look at the Cy-bug form, who, in many ways, is simultaneously the thesis and antithesis of his character.
In particular, there's one thing I want to consider:
There's this theory made by somebody else that says Turbo, upon getting eaten by the Cy-bug, didn't take over the animal's conscience and control his body, instead, upon eating King Candy, the Cy-bug took upon himself his mannerisms, meaning that, according to this theory, neither King Candy nor Turbo technically survived the encounter.
If we accept this theory as true, then that means that even during what is supposed to be a character study, the character that the movie is highlighting may also be just as fake as the act that was put up until this point, meaning that, in a sense, we never saw the real Turbo in the movie.
He was three people at once.
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(Yes, I've been spamming this image everywhere, and I'll keep doing so because I can)
In Conclusion:
Turbo is, ironically and unironically, an incredibly subtle character, and that makes it extremely easy for a lot of people to overlook and miss out on the most subtle details and characteristics that make him truly exceptional;
Him being so deceptive and mysterious helps and hinders his popularity, as some either love the mystery surrounding him, others fail to get a good grasp on who he truly is and become disinterested.
He is, by design, a building block, a puzzle to be solved, a character to piece together, that makes him so much fun!
But also, if you aren't interested in putting the pieces together, then he may not be up everyone's alley.
I definitely feel like the best thing that @randomalistic did in her/their video on Wreck-It Ralph was create an easy jumping point for new fans/casual watchers of the movie to get insanely invested over the story and characters;
I'm sure it was incredibly easy for many other people like me to focus only on the most talked about aspect of Turbo, aka the plot twist, and overlook all the other things that were not as much in your face as that; I was blinded by the spotlight, and it made it hard to see the genius that was put everything else;
Now, thanks to Random highlighting King Candy's cruelty and repulsive behaviour, my favourite thing about Turbo is how he weaponized the "disability" of a child to marginalise and persecute her, discriminating her for it all of her life WHEN HE'S THE ONE WHO MADE HER "DISABLED" IN THE FIRST PLACE.
This man, is so HORRIBLE, and he deserves to be publicly exposed for all the heinous s##t that he did, not just for being the best of a bunch of villains who frankly he shouldn't even be attempted to be compared to.
Anyway, I hope someone had fun reading this. I definitely felt like I started to write this with some really good ideas that I wanted to share, but in the end, I feel like they weren't all that interesting to begin with.
Feel free to share your own opinions, and have a great day!
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bayfuzzball7050 · 3 months ago
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My favourite jjba character(s) from each part bc I know it will be more appreciated here than in a Reddit thread
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I’ll use this header from now on to yap
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Phantom Blood: Speedwagon. Regardless if it’s a whole meme in the community, o genuinely think it’s very brave of him to follow along in an adventure where everyone has powers but he doesn’t. He just raw dog’s every supernatural event and tries his best to be useful. It’s a noble thing.
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Battle Tendency: Definitely Caesar Zeppeli. A much more complex and interesting character than his predecessor (William Zeppeli, I mean). I loved his design, personality and charisma regardless if I couldn’t resonate at all with his backstory. I also really enjoyed his rivalry/friendship with Joseph. I’ve always loved the smart/snarky guy x himbo dynamic!
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Stardust Crusaders: I love kakyoin with all my heart and soul and I will never shut up about it. I resonated deeply with him since I know personally what it is like to be alone. I like how Araki portrayed his loneliness in a ‘im different than everyone I know’ way where he couldn’t relate to people the way others that. That childhood monologue— god! It hit so, so close to home. I couldn’t help but cry when the scene came up. That is when I realized how much the crusaders mattered to him. A bunch of people ‘like him’ and it’s such a sacred feeling when you’ve been feeling ‘off’ all your life. I also like that he’s always giving little fun facts he’s a bit like yapdollar
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Diamond Is Unbreakable: Okuyasu. No question needed. Unlike his brother, Okuyasu is a very kind soul that has never killed anyone (at least on screen) even when he has endured so much abuse from his brother and father alike, something that would ‘justify it’ if he did became an evil character. He stopped looking for a way to kill his father because he can see the good in people and ‘accept them for who they are’. I can’t help but feel a deep sympathy for him. He had taken what his brother had told him about being better off dead so personally to the point where his first question after being healed by Josuke was (paraphrasing bc I don’t remember well) was something like “why did you save me when it would’ve been easier to let me die?”. Josuke came just in time to make him realize how much he actually mattered so he could evolve into the little goofball we all know and love.
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Golden Wind: Giorno. I think most people who call him a ‘boring’ or ‘plain’ character often seem to forget that, of course, Giorno will not be a charismatic, sociable, talkative, — joseph — kind of guy. He was severely emotionally and physically neglected in his childhood to the point where showing emotions became useless since he knew he’d be left shaking in his craddle. From this emotional neglect, he started looking up at a gangster as some sort of parental figure. Someone who showed him basic human decency. Later, we get to see his ingenuity in battle. But I think one of the reasons he was so clever in life or death situations was because he has been in a ‘fight or flight’ mode since a very young age. He isn’t even ‘bottling up’ his emotions, he had repressed them deeply inside his brain to survive.
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Stone Ocean: The main three. But mainly Foo Fighters bc they’re so silly >_< and I can’t begin to imagine how marvellous it has to be to, one day, become a sentient being
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Steel Ball Run: I can’t quite decide between Gyro and Johnny tbh. Johnny is a character who had been always pampered with his ‘rich life’ and was then shocked with the fact that once you’re not useful, or worse, become inconvenient for people, they stop caring about you. I often think about how bad his father was with him, not only rubbing Nicholas’ death all over his face rather often, the whole “God, you took the wrong son” page or just how he never went by to visit him when he had just gotten crippled. It was just plain cruel. Also when they followed Hot Pants to a church and Johnny had to relive some of his most traumatic life experiences again and still try to win. It was one of the best arcs in sbr imo.
Gyro, on another note, wasn’t a son of a wealthy family but had to carry the weight of generations and generations of knowledge on top of the family profession on his shoulders, having to execute a child. He’s also a silly goofball with his jokes that make little to no sense and him trying to explain the spin to johnny in life or death situations always has me cackling up ngl.
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Jojolion: I haven’t started to read JOJOLION, but from what I’ve seen, Gappy seems to be a silly goofball who lacks direction and I love that in a man. Also that he’s a 2 x 1 combo, literally.
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Jojolands: I haven’t read jojolands either, but good lord they sold me Dragona and Paco when I heard ‘transgender’ and ‘laburantes’. Plus everyone from the Jodio team also seems to be lacking direction and being a pinch silly
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fanfic-obsessed · 4 months ago
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Pit Magic
This one…This one is going to start a little strange, and with a bit more world building than I let myself indulge in for my Tumblr ideas, but the set up is a bit necessary. As always there is no Canon to see here.
The first important note here is magic and how magic works. Magic here is both sentient and not. Magic does not necessarily have thoughts, but does have opinions about who and how it is used.  With Spells powerful enough to leave remnants behind, those remnants do not work well going against their original purpose or used by people whose intentions are too different from their first caster. All magic, after enough time, can be corrupted (made to work against its original purpose- so remnants of a spell made to kill used to heal would also be a corruption) but even corrupted magic is, for lack of a better term, protective of anyone or anything that matches the vibe of its pure form. 
This brings us to the Lazarus Pits. There is no recorded history of the Pits, with its mystical water that cures the sick and kills the healthy.  No one ever recorded its true origin. The truth is the original Lazarus Water was a non magical spring in a cave system in what is present day Turkey, a location that was long lost even before Ra’s Al Ghul began using the Pits.  This cave was the home to a small tribe in the middle of the last ice age. An illness struck this tribe, nearly wiping out the entire tribe in a matter of hours. All except the daughter of the tribe's leader, who had a natural magic. Though grieving, her main intention was to help, to save those she loved no matter the cost to herself. Her magic reacted creating a powerful spell to revive her tribe and kill the illness that afflicted them. She gladly gave her life so that they would live. 
The spell was so powerful it left long lasting remnants that sunk into spring water, turning the water of the spring into a healing elixir, the predecessor to the Lazarus Pits.  The spell also changed the tribe irrevocably, making them heartier, slower to age and more resistant to illness and infection; these resistances and the healing that came with them passed through the blood of the tribe, which then passed to most of humanity as the generations flew by.  Though no one had ever had cause to make the connection, the more of that lost tribe's blood that flows through a person's veins the better the Lazarus Pits work for them, the less the madness affects them.
By the time Ra’s Al Ghul took control of the Lazarus Pits, the original spring was lost to time and the remnants of the original spell were hopelessly corrupted.  
This brings us back to what this is setting up for.  Due to the nature of the League of Assassins, who their clients are, who their victims are, no one in living memory who had been exposed to Lazarus Water had come face to face with someone whose vibe matches the love and need to help of the original caster. This vibe check can only be done in person, not through surveillance equipment, or photos or reports. 
Until Jason Todd attacks Tim Drake at the Titans Tower.
Stubborn, self sacrificing, loving Tim Drake. Feral, protective, willing to do anything for his loved ones. And he loved so deeply, so desperately.
The exact match of a girl so long ago who poured everything she was into a spell to heal the people she loved. Who died gladly, with no regrets, creating a healing spell so powerful that it changed humanity itself.   
Jason Todd had broken into Titan’s tower, mind drenched green with Pit Madness, intending on hurting the little Replacement Robin. That is until he entered the room the Robin in question. The madness did not clear, instead it switched from Anger to ‘Mine! Protect!’.
The Pit Madness in Jason’s head screams that this is not a safe place for Tim (someone intending to hurt him had just broken in).  Running on adrenaline, madness, and an overwhelming protectiveness, Red Hood scoops up the little Robin and exits the tower stage left to get somewhere safe (depending on which is funnier, he either manages to escape with a struggling Robin over his shoulder-no knocking out Robin, that would be hurting him- , or said Robin figured out that Red Hood was Jason Todd and went quietly for ‘It’s Jason’ reasons).  Somehow Jason runs with his captured Robin straight back to the only safe place he can think of, Nanda Parbat. 
Later, after he is not running so fully on strange instincts, Jason would not be able to say how he got from San Francisco to the League of Assassins in the middle east, but somehow he did.  
While not every Assassin in the League has had a dip in the Lazarus Pits, most have and every single one of them, from Ra’s Al Ghul to Talia to Damian to the lowest Assassin who had been dipped in the Pits takes one look at Tim Drake and go ‘he is our precious cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure’.  It should also be noted that they do not want Tim to become an Assassin, not even Ra’s; this really is a ‘we must protect the innocent boy from all the evils of the world’ kind of situation (Which is hilarious given the age difference between Damian-who has declared himself Tim’s personal bodyguard- and Tim).
So now Tim Drake has been abducted by the League of Assassins and they all want to give him…hugs? Like Tim knows he’s a bit touch starved, ok, but he didn’t realize it was so bad that an actual villain organization would get concerned.  And there is talk about how he needs to be protected. Yeah, they are not letting him contact anyone or leave, but they are also not torturing him or trying to kill him. It is a little strange that he is getting more maternal affection from Talia Al Ghil than from his own mother, who he is not even sure knows he is missing yet.  AND Jason Todd is there, which means Jason is alive, so Tim is trying to get Jason to come home. Tim is also trying to figure out if this made his life weirder or not.
Back in Gotham, Batman is losing his whole mind. He has video from Titan’s Tower of The Red Hood abducting Robin, now one has heard from either since. It has been weeks.  In addition no one has reported Tim Drake missing. It has been weeks and there is no one outside their nightlife that would notice if Tim disappeared? Bruce has been trying to get in contact with Drakes for all of those weeks (in between his frantic searching for Tim himself). The messenger he sent to find them, one of the Justice League undercover, was told essentially not to bother them about Tim, just talk to him directly and refused to listen when being told he might be missing. 
Listen when Bruce gets Tim back from wherever he has been abducted to, he is going to be concerned about the implications of his parents actions. Right now he and Dick are scouring all of their contacts to find their missing Bird. Crime is at an all time low in Gotham, in spite of the Bats not patrolling. 
There was precisely one(1) Arkham breakout since Robin went missing. Instead of the normal round up, where the various Rogues all had time to get to their preferred battlegrounds before being gently (and until that breakout none of them would have ever considered that the Bats were actually being gentle with them) recaptured, with fights that served as enrichment in all of their enclosures the four rogues that escaped that night were all put down fast, and with broken bones to would put them out of commission for months, by an impatient Batman or Nightwing.  Neither have time for the normal crime fighting until they bring Robin home, they are on a Mission.   And everyone knows not to bother the Bats on a mission.
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thisgirlnamedblusy · 7 months ago
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Flowers
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Gardener! Reader
Warnings: Drugs? (Idk how to tag the flowers stuff :S), fluff, a bit of angst, reader POV
Word count: 6,352
Summary: She warned me about the flowers but... With them, I can be with her
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting for yours :))) I love you all!!!
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I never went near those flowers, until they were the only way to love you.
I woke up like every morning, in that old cabin. I didn't know what had happened to my predecessor, but I assumed what happened to everyone close enough to that place.
My skill with plants was no secret in the village. Envy? Sure, should I have felt lucky? I couldn't say.
When Mother Miranda, in her infinite goodness, entrusted me with a job, I couldn’t, nor I wanted to, refuse. No one needed my gardening skills. No one seemed to care, no one except Donna Beneviento.
Apparently the gap left by the man I replaced was too big. A large plot of land, a large garden that just one woman was incapable of maintaining.
Yes, the job had its perks: a house to myself, all the free time I wanted, and good pay. I wondered why people were so afraid of Lady Beneviento.
Well, I couldn't really say if she scared me or not. I barely saw her.
From time to time, she would walk with her doll through the garden, I assumed to check that I was working, that I was useful to her. Try to seem helpful, (Y/N)… That was the advice my father gave me before I left. That and to be careful with the flowers. Luckily, I was good at my job, and… Well, I couldn't complain.
“Hey! You,” I shouted, pointing at a naughty rabbit that was threatening to eat some plants.
I was used to vermin making my work difficult, but that particular animal had been bothering me for a while. I couldn't just finish it off, but I could at least get it away from the garden.
“Gotcha!” I shouted, launching myself after it, falling in the snow with empty hands. The damn rabbit escaped again and I growled angrily. “You'll see when…!”
I couldn't continue talking, since in front of my face were those strange yellow flowers, the flowers that Donna Beneviento herself warned me about.
“Oh...” I sighed defeated, knowing that it was inevitable to inhale that pollen, at that moment the question was: What was going to happen to me?
I stared at the strangeness of those flowers. It could have been the end of me, the poison would have eaten away my lungs and I would start convulsing at any moment. But that didn't happen.
“Honey, are you okay?” A strange voice, one that I never thought I would hear again made me wake up from those ramblings about my possible death. I recognized it immediately, but I couldn't believe it.
“Mom,” I sighed as she helped me up.
There she was, the woman who gave me life, my mother, in front of me, on that sinister ground, looking at me with that smile, with that tenderness. I wish I could say I was happy. But no, she just couldn't be there.
“(Y/N), how beautiful you are... You've grown,” she whispered with that voice, with that same voice. I shook my head at the impossibility of what I was seeing.
No, my mother couldn't be there, talking to me. She died, she died years ago.
“No, it's not possible,” I murmured slowly, reaching out my hand to touch hers. It wasn't a mirage. Whatever it was, was physical, tangible. I could feel the same rough feel of the dress she always wore, the subtle scent of the cookies she always made for us. It couldn't be an imposter, it was her. It was my mother.
Oblivious to all the signs that told me that this couldn't be happening, I obeyed my instincts and hugged her, hugged her tightly, wishing for a moment that she couldn't do it, that my arms would only touch the air.
But no, it was not an illusion. I could feel the comforting warmth of her embrace as I dissolved into tears.
“Mom... I've missed you so much,” I cried on her shoulder, letting her caresses serve as a consolation for the confusion of that moment.
“Me too, darling...” She whispered, letting me sink into her body, letting my emotions completely overflow me.
“But, but it can't be...” I said sobbing, with a smile. No, it was not possible and I knew it, would I have died?
Suddenly a draft of cold air made me shiver, causing me to feel dampness on my forehead and to have chills.
When I opened my eyes, my mother was no longer there, nor was I outside. I looked around to try to get my bearings. I was at home, lying on the couch, with a wet cloth on my head. What had happened to me?
There were noises in the house, movement that told me that I was not alone.
“Who, who is there?” I asked, sitting up. The answer was immediate.
It wasn't difficult to recognize the dark figure as it approached me. Donna Beneviento, Lord and owner of the land where I worked, approached slowly, with a cup of tea.
“You're awake,” she whispered with a hoarse voice, with a voice I had never heard before. I shook my head, confused
“Lady Beneviento,” I said in a formal tone, blinking several times in case that it was also a dream.
The woman in black nodded, coming closer, standing right in front of me.
“Here, it will relieve your headache,” the lady said softly, offering me that cup of tea.
I was confused. It wasn't common to see Donna near me, much less hear her talking, but that wasn't the important thing at that moment nor was to know what she was doing in my house.
“Thank you,” I said kindly, taking the steaming cup from her hands, which immediately retreated when they felt mine very close to them. “What…? What happened to me?”
“I was taking a walk and I was surprised you were not here, so I looked for you and well, I saw you lying in the snow, you had fainted,” the lady explained, sitting on the couch, as far away from me as possible.
“Have I fainted? I don't remember...” I said confused, bringing that cup of tea to my lips. To have a conversation with her didn't even seem strange to me, I had just seen my dead mother after all.
“I warned you not to go near those flowers, (Y/N),” she said after a few moments of silence. I opened my eyes and looked at her, well… I looked at the black cloth that covered her face.
“Flowers? Oh, I...” I said with a broken voice, trying to put things in their place, trying to think what exactly had happened. “It was, it was an accident. I was chasing a rabbit and well, I tripped and...”
“An accident,” she repeated, with a suspicious tone.
“Yes, an accident,” I reaffirmed, making clear that I didn’t ignore her warnings. “By the way… What happened to me? I, I felt strange and...”
“They are not ordinary flowers, (Y/N), they have special properties. I imagine you've noticed,” she explained without much desire to talk, probably wanting me to go back to work so she could leave that place.
“I...” I sighed, remembering that hug with my mother, her impossible presence… “I saw, I saw my mother.”
“Your mother?” The woman in black asked, this time with curiosity.
“But, but it can't be possible... I... She, she died and... She was there... It was so real,” I said, wanting to know what exactly had happened, what those flowers did to me.
The woman sighed, shaking her head.
“It's what flowers do. What you saw was a hallucination,” she said with a whisper, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. Definitely, just as the villagers had told me, human relationships were not exactly Donna Beneviento's strong suit.
“No, but...” I said, denying to myself that my mother was never there. “It… It was so real…”
“It wasn't, (Y/N),” Donna said briefly, playing with her hands, nervously, before bringing one of them closer to my face, placing it gently on my forehead. “It seems that you are better.”
Her warm hand on my frozen forehead sent a contrast of emotions through my body. It was a soft, delicate hand that barely touched me, but it stirred something inside me.
“Yes, I... I don't know what to say,” I said, lowering my head and looking away from hers, as if I had been embarrassed by something.
Okay, it was true that I haven’t got been a woman in my life for a long time but... But that didn't mean that I had to feel something every time a woman touched me, and even less... With her.
“Just tell me that you will never go near those flowers again,” she said, moving away from me a little, as if she had felt something similar. “You are a good gardener, I don't want to lose you.”
“Oh, no, Lady Beneviento, you won't lose me,” I stated, with a tone grateful for that strange concern.
“People live in their memories, in their whishes...” She explained with an enigmatic tone. “Flowers can revive them or even create them. But they can also make you feel horrible things. They can torment you.”
“I understand,” I said, letting the air out of my body slowly, disappointed. “Well… Thank you…” I said hurriedly, when the lady in black got up from the couch, walking like a ghost toward the exit. “…For, for taking care of me. I promise that I will be more careful Lady...”
“Donna,” she said, interrupting me, as if something had offended her. “My name is Donna.”
“Okay, Donna...”
I was still confused by what had happened. I disobeyed a direct order, but there were no consequences beyond that encounter. I looked out the window, watching this strange woman disappear from my house. It had all been so strange... The feeling of my mother's hug continued filling my mind with that comforting warmth.
I know I shouldn't have done it, but the voices that begged me to feel that way again spoke much louder than my common sense. I got up slowly, finishing that infusion, and I took a breath.
“Wishes...” I murmured to myself, focusing my gaze on a small cluster of yellow flowers in a corner.
The feeling of having what I wanted, that the hugs of my loved ones sent some warmth to my cold existence, made me do something crazy.
I grabbed a cloth from the kitchen, a small empty flower pot, and I left the house with a clear objective.
I put the white cloth over my mouth and nose so as not to breathe in that damned pollen while I bent down to pick one of the flowers. I still asked myself what would have happened if I had been a good girl and hadn't made that mistake.
Everything seemed normal. The cloth had been enough to prevent me from hallucinating while, with a bit of soil, I transplanted that flower into the small pot, taking it inside my house.
My stupid mind thought that maybe, just maybe, those visions would help me fall asleep or not think about doubts or existential torments when it was time to close my eyes. I had seen my mother, damn it, my mother. I wanted to do it again. I succumbed to the temptation of living in dreams.
I put the pot in a glass display case and looked at that flower for a few minutes. How could a simple flower cause that kind of hallucinations? I, who thought I knew everything about plants, found myself at a dead end.
I spent the rest of the day looking through my encyclopedias. Nothing, nothing that looked like that yellow flower.
Then night came and I lay down on the bed. Not even the cold could distract me from my thoughts. My eyes went straight to the glass display case. When I wanted to realize it, something different to the flower came to my head. That woman, Donna Beneviento, fearsome Lords, lonely, inexpressive and dangerous. Her black figure appeared on my thoughts involuntarily; the sound of her soft voice, of that subtle but noticeable accent, the feeling of her hand on my forehead, of her black dress brushing against mine.
I shouldn't be thinking about those things, but I did, thousands of questions filled my mind, thus hiding the curiosity about that flower: who is she really? Why does she hide her face? Why is she alone? What makes her so dangerous? Is she really as crazy in the head as people say? Why do I have the feeling that she is a beautiful woman?
“(Y/N), but what are you thinking about?” I said to myself, rubbing my eyes with my hands, trying to forget the scent of lavender that accompanied Donna, which I now had in my head. “It will be, it will be better… To sleep.”
Before turning off the light, I took one last look at the display case. Do it, don't do it. Like two sides of my same consciousness, those two options appeared in my mind.
A foolish thing, since I began to walk towards the plant, ignoring the strong beating of my heart and lifting the glass cover. I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly, just for a couple of seconds.
Nothing happened and, shrugging my shoulders, I climbed back into bed.
I was wrong. It didn't take long for the visions to appear. My house was no longer my house, but my parents' house. It was Christmas, one of many before my mother left. I was happy, as if I were 9 years old again. After many sleepless nights, this time, I finally managed to fall asleep.
I knew they were nothing but hallucinations, but I felt good, relieved, as if I had been reborn and saw how wonderful life was.
Every day the same work, every night a different vision. Only happy moments came to see me, only positive and comforting emotions. I didn't understand how something that made me so happy could be dangerous.
On the other hand, the strange relationship I had with Donna grew a little. She continued to walk and look at me, but now, just sometimes, she came up to talk to me. They weren't deep conversations by any means but... Well, they were conversations. I couldn't say that I was starting to get to know her, but my strange interest in her grew little by little.
“Have a good trip, (Y/N)” I said with a smile, after breathing the pollen from that plant again, before going to sleep.
The walk was different. That night, I was walking hand in hand with the first girl I fell in love with. It was a wonderful feeling that suddenly stopped being so. We were sitting, Katia and me, me and Katia, on a stone bench. Our hands were intertwined and our gazes predicted a kiss that would not take long to come. Before feeling the warmth of another woman's lips, something strange happened.
The girl's old clothes changed, darkening until they were completely black. It was no longer Katia, it was Donna. I should have been scared, I should have screamed to wake up but... I didn't want to do it. The sensation was no different, a knot in my heart, the relief of her lavender perfume and… her soft hands brushing mine. I should have felt bad, strange, but I didn't. I felt good, I felt like I wanted more caresses, I wanted to be closer to her, I wanted... I wanted to lift that horrible veil and kiss her. I wanted it, I really wanted it. Was it the hallucination or were those strange feelings towards the lady in black getting worse?
“I want to kiss you,” I said in a sigh, leaning towards her, who laughed shyly, nodding.
“Me too,” she responded, letting my hands go to that annoying black fabric, lifting it little by little. Suddenly, before I could discover her face, a cold current brought me back to reality.
“What?” I said, waking up in my bed, ending that strange trip, the one in which I was about to kiss Lady Beneviento, wanting to do so.
At first I thought it was like another dream, a jumble of feelings, memories, and people, something random. I realized it wasn't.
The feeling I had in that vision was the same one I had when she approached me during the day, when she spoke to me with that soft voice, when she touched my shoulder with her hand, when my heart screamed for her not to go away, for to stay a little longer.
At night, her figure returned to torment me. Not in the way you might believe. Her hands with mine, her caresses, the love I had for leaning on her shoulder and hugging her. Everything was repeated every night, with every dose of pollen I inhaled.
 There was only one problem. Those visions had an end. I never managed to remove her veil, I was never able to see her face, feel her lips on mine. I shouldn't have but... I started to feel desperate, I started to feel that it wasn't a good dream, but a nightmare, the torment of not being able to fulfill my wish, of not being able to kiss her and tell her that I felt something for her, even if it was just that, a dream, a hallucination.
“Why did you do it?”
A familiar voice woke me up one night. Just when I thought the effect of the flower had worn off. I recognized that soft tone, but there was no sign of its owner. I was alone in my house, but for some reason, I was convinced that I had heard it.
“(Y/N)...” The soft voice, her voice, called me again. It was out now, or so I thought. A dark shadow walked outside the cabin. Donna.
Happy to be able to relive those moments, those hallucinations, I chased her, but she didn't stop, which made me run, run until I caught up with her. I knew that road, the road that led directly to her house, to the old Beneviento estate.
My steps were automated and my eyes struggled not to lose sight of her dark figure.
“(Y/N)... Why did you do it?” That voice asked again, a voice that was lost in the sound of the wind.
Her figure disappeared at the door of the house and I... I ran desperately towards her, managing to grab her arm, managing to have her close to me again.
“Donna...” I sighed with a goofy smile. There was nothing that would prevent me from enjoying my visions as I wanted, so I didn't waste time, throwing myself into her arms, keeping her body very close to mine.
She stood still for a moment while I covered myself in lavender, while I stroked her back. Soon her arms surrounded my body as well, and, like every night, we melted into a tender, comforting embrace.
“I love seeing you every night,” I whispered in her ear, making her move away, subtly pushing and taking me by the hand, leading me into the house. My eyes shone with her presence, with her caresses in my hand. I sat next to her, determined to explore that figure a bit more, to delay the moment of removing the veil and returning to the harsh reality.
My hands traveled up her arms, the visible skin of her neck was next, making her laugh sheepishly as she felt my tickling. Her hand came together, caressing my cheek carefully, breathing heavily. I explored her body, she explored mine. It was as if we had just discovered each other, it was... Different.
“Bellisima...” She whispered through her veil. I frowned.
I had never heard her speak like that, but all it did was for my hand to travel under her veil, caressing one of her soft cheeks.
“Stop, (Y/N),” Donna said in a soft voice, grabbing my wrist to lower my hand, to leave her face.
I, convinced of what my next step was going to be, shook my head.
“Please, Donna... I want to look at you. I want to know how beautiful you are... I want to be able to kiss you,” I begged, finding myself at an advantage. It was my hallucination. It would have to obey my wishes.
My body trembled as it relaxed after a moment of tension. She nodded and I... I prayed to Mother Miranda to allow me to live in that dream a little longer, just a little longer, just long enough so that I could contemplate the beauty of her, just so I could get closer to her.
My hands gripped the fabric and my eyes squeezed tight. Please don't wake up… My mind repeated as I lifted her veil.
Afraid of finding myself back in my house, I remained with my eyes closed until I realized that her lavender perfume, that her agitated breathing, was still with me. I carefully opened one eye, then the other.
There she was. Donna had shown herself to me. My visions had mercy and let me stay to admire her beauty, a beauty that seemed hidden by that scar, by the lack of one of her eyes. What made you think you were less beautiful because of that, Donna? You were perfect.
“How beautiful you are,” I said, dazzled by that bright eye, by that half smile that she gave when she heard me say those words.
“I want to kiss you...” The lady in black whispered, grabbing my hands tightly, enjoying the sincerity of my words.
I, excited because that dream didn’t end, because I could see her beautiful face and now I was about to fulfill the greatest of my whishes, I closed my eyes and nodded, letting her take the initiative, curious to see how my subconscious acted in that moment, that long-awaited moment.
She moved, laughing shyly, as always. She leaned towards me and to notice her lips brushing against mine in a subtle way didn't take long. It was almost like just an air current. I had to make a huge effort not to get ahead, not to get carried away by my feelings. I wanted it to be her. I wanted Donna to kiss me first.
Her hand reached the back of my head, pulling it gently until finally, I could feel the warmth of her kiss. It was a simple, shy kiss, without movement, just enjoying the feeling of her lips on mine. I acted later, bringing my hand to her face, to her cheek while she deepened that kiss, while preventing everything from ending at its best moment.
Donna followed me, smiling against my lips, imitating my gestures. Was it her first kiss? It seemed like it but... Why would my subconscious imagine something like that?
“I have never kissed anyone,” she admitted shortly after our lips fought not to separate. Well, if that's what my mind wanted to imagine, there was no harm in doing it. It was better to think that I was the first than to imagine other lips on hers.
“Me neither,” I lied, taking advantage of the hallucination effect.
“I don't believe you,” Donna whispered, very close to my lips again, kissing them in a more determined way.
“You should believe me. I’m the owner of this dream,” I said amused, kissing her harder, with more desire, making her lie down on the couch.
“(Y/N), you must wake up now,” she said, when my kisses went down her neck, when my impatient hands passed over her chest, looking for a crack, a gap to get in and caress her body inside her dress.
“No, I don't want to,” I said, shaking my head, unable to separate myself from her.
It was the best vision I had so far, but a strange feeling came over me.
“What?” I said suddenly, opening my eyes to find an overwhelming truth. The dream was over.
I sat up slowly, reaching toward the nightstand, where the headache pills should be. They weren't there, neither my bed, nor my room. I wasn't at my house.
I uncovered myself scared, leaving the small room. I hurried towards the stairs and… I froze. Hanging on the wall, there was a portrait, a portrait of a beautiful woman, a portrait of Donna. It was her, without the scar, but it was her. How far can a hallucination go? How could I know what her face looked like if I had never seen it? And... Well, above all and most importantly... What was I doing in her house?
“Good morning!” A shrill voice brought me out of my shame and confusion. The Angie doll, whom I feared and appreciated at the same time, called me funny from below.
“Angie?” I asked confused, rubbing my head, wishing the pounding in my brain to stop.
“Good morning, (Y/N)” another familiar voice, Donna’s, said. The mourning woman appeared shortly after, with her hands in front of her body, with the veil on her face, looking at you with a stoic pose.
“Donna? What?” I stammered. “What am I doing here?”
She didn't respond. She simply motioned for me to follow her, where a table with breakfast was waiting for me.
Shame and uncertainty made my hands shake as I picked up that cup of coffee. I couldn't look Donna in the face. Did I go too far? Did the hallucination make me go towards the house? What was happening?
“I, I'm sorry but...” I said confused, with my face burned with shame. “I don't know what I'm doing here.”
“I saw you last night outside the house,” Donna responded, sitting in front of you, eating breakfast quietly. How could she be so calm? Please tell me it was all a dream...
“Me?” I asked, hiding everything related to the flower, and to my vision.
“Yes,” Donna answered, nodding at the same time. “You seemed confused. It was very cold so I took you inside the house and put you to bed.”
I couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least, everything that happened was just a vision, right? I didn't kiss her. I didn't caress her body... I didn't feel that good... At least in front of her, the real Donna.
“Well, I...” I said, hiding the tremor in my voice. I had to think of something, something to divert the woman in black's attention, something to tell her that I hadn't disobeyed her and that I hadn't spent weeks hallucinating with that flower. “The thing is…. I'm a sleepwalker,” I said, holding my breath.
“Uh-huh,” Donna whispered, pouring me some more coffee. She wasn't too surprised by that lie, but, apparently, she believed it.
“It happens to me sometimes, you know, I get out of bed and walk around... I probably forgot to lock the door...” I said, a bit more confident because, apparently, my excuse was more than enough to Donna.
“You should be more careful, (Y/N),” she said with a serious tone, but that gave away something that I was not able to understand. “It’s dangerous.”
What exactly was she referring to?
Luckily, routine returned to my life. Well, partly. The dreams continued. Kisses and caresses were already common. She kissed me and I kissed her. We spent the time the visions lasted looking at each other curiously, touching, caressing our skin. It was an innocent act, but one that I enjoyed every night. My obsession with that flower only got worse the closer I got to Donna in my dreams. But… The fear of returning to her house was present in my hallucinations. That fear of saying, of doing something dangerous, something I might regret, forced me to make a decision.
“Well, tonight I will have to see you only in my dreams,” I said listlessly, turning off the light on the table. If I spent another perfect night with her, I would end up going crazy.
At that moment I began to understand why those flowers were so dangerous.
I had a hard time falling asleep, resisting the temptation to get up and smell that pollen again. But I was strong, for once. I let reality control my actions, and not my whishes.
The creak of the door startled me. It was not a night with a wind strong enough to open it. Someone had entered.
Cautious and scared, I opened the drawer of the table, looking for the knife I had to defend myself from the creatures of the night. I couldn't have defended myself from that creature.
Donna, the woman in black, was there, walking slowly towards my bed. I was sure, completely sure that it wasn't a dream, that I didn't inhale that flower before going to sleep. She was really there, which sent a huge amount of thoughts into my head.
“(Y/N), cara mia...” She whispered, sitting on my bed and stroking my hair. I, confused, decided to pretend, to pretend to be asleep. “Will you come with me?”
She extended her hand toward me, and then I understood. That way of calling me, that hand holding mine. It had all been a hallucination but... I couldn't say when it stopped being one. It was real, Donna was there. Donna was always there, taking me to her house, making me stay enthralled with her kisses, with her caresses. I was dreaming, delirious, but... Not as much as I thought. The kisses, the caresses, the words of love... All of that was real, real to the point of wanting to die of shame, of not knowing how to act.
That was not a vision and I didn't know what to do.
She kissed me. She told me how beautiful I was. Did she really mean it? Did Donna want something from me? Did she feel something for me the same way I did? Did she take advantage of my confusion to feel loved? No, that was not a possibility. She never went beyond kisses. Her caresses were tender and respectful. She probably just wanted to know what it felt like when someone loved you. I couldn't blame her for that, especially because I was madly in love with her.
Faking it would be my best option. Observing what she really did with me, if it was a product of the flower, or on the contrary she made me feel as good with her kisses, as always.
I sat up slowly, taking her hand. I followed her like a zombie, like every night, towards her house.
The sofa was still there, waiting for us. I sat down. She sat down, without letting my hand go.
At that moment I wanted to be aware of everything. The walls weren't blurry, the feeling of euphoria was less, but my heart was beating fast when she took off her veil and her lips kissed mine. I was stupid. Her kisses had never felt so good, so real... That flower served no purpose other than to blur the sensations that being close to her produced in me. I, acted as always, kissing her back, cupping her pale, soft face in my hands.
“I can't live without your kisses...” Donna whispered in my ear, making me shiver, pretending to explore her body innocently, like every night, every night I thought I was hallucinating.
“Me neither...” I whispered back, kissing her intensely, running my hands through her tied up hair, touching, exploring now with all my capabilities. The heat of her kisses, the touch of her skin. A stupid hallucination had nothing to do with reality.
“I would like to think that you love me...” She said, smiling in a sad way, moving away, but without letting my hand go, which was wandering along her neck, across her chest, as if it wanted to guide me where  was needed.
“I love you,” I said without thinking, affirming my feelings towards her, being sincere, confessing something that, in other circumstances, I would not dare to do.
An even sadder smile spread across her face. What was she thinking? Easy, she believed that I was immersed in a hallucination, under the effect of that pollen. She couldn't think my feelings were real. That sent a pang straight to my heart. What should I do? Tell her the true? It seemed dangerous.
No words seemed good, it would be better to act. I threw myself into her arms, kissing her deeper, making her gasp in surprise, making her hands go to my head while I lay on her, kissing her neck, letting myself be seduced by her lavender perfume while I adored everything I could about her body.
“(Y/N)... You have to stop...” Donna said, nervous about how my hands went down to her legs under her black dress, about how I dared to caress her skin with desire.  I didn't know what to do, and I decided that the best thing would be to truly love her, to make her feel loved.
“I would like to make love to you,” I said, faking that soft tone I always had in my visions, going to the buttons on the top of her dress. She shook her head, but only for a few seconds before kissing me back, letting my hand lift one of her legs, wrapping it around my waist.
The atmosphere became too hot. Donna was breathing nervously, unable to contain the urge to continue, clinging to the fabric of my pajamas, looking for a way to control the impulse to taking them off.
“No, I can't do it...” She murmured while my kisses had more skin available to kiss, while my hand opened the top of her dress to delight in her chest. “This… This is not right…”
“It is, Donna, relax,” I said, forgetting about acting for a moment.
She stood up suddenly, roughly pushing me away from her.
“No, (Y/N)... My, my first time can't be like this...” The lady said, getting nervous, sitting down and avoiding my gaze.
“Why?” I asked, studying her gestures.
“It's not you, (Y/N)... You just... Just...” Donna said, her voice shaking, blinking repeatedly.
Seeing the state Donna was in, I decided to act, do something stupid.
“Donna, listen to me, it's me, (Y/N)...,” I said, taking her sweaty hand, a hand that she suddenly pulled away. “I'm fine... I'm not hallucinating...”
“What?” She said scared, looking at me and getting closer, opening one of my eyes with two fingers, checking that I wasn't lying.
She immediately stood up from the couch, desperately searching for her veil.
“Hey, hey, Donna, wait,” I said, standing up, aware of the mistake I had made. “No, nothing is wrong… Don’t, don't cover yourself, please.”
“You’ve disobeyed me, (Y/N), I told you, I told you not to go near the flowers,” she said in a dangerous tone, her face covered again.
“Well I...” I stammered, unable to refute her accusation. “Hey, I don't think you're the best person to ask me for explanations.”
Donna became even more scared, knowing that I knew what she did, what we did.
“Go away, I don't want to see you again,” she hissed, pushing me unpleasantly and passing by my side, which I immediately prevented by grabbing her wrist.
“No, Donna, I'm not leaving...” I said firmly. “I'm not leaving until you listen to me.”
“I don't want to listen to you!” The lady in black screamed, clenching her fists, breaking free of my grip. “What are you going to do? What are you going to tell me? Are you going to tell your friends what we do at night? The way I took advantage of you?”
“What? No, Donna, I...” I stammered, unable to control her shaking, putting my hands on her shoulders. “It’s, it's my fault…”
"You know is not, (Y/N)” she said with a dark voice. “I, I confused you... I, I made you believe that...”
“I disobeyed you, Donna,” I said more calmly, contrasting with her almost deranged attitude. “I wanted, I wanted to continue living those pleasant things, I, I wanted...”
“What?”
“Damn, do you know why I kept inhaling that pollen, Donna? Because when I did it... I saw you... I saw you next to me...”
“Did you see me?” She asked, confused by my clumsy confession.
“Yes, I... I did...” I confirmed, lowering my head, letting her shoulders go, embarrassed. “I don't want you to believe me but I... I'm in love with you and... I knew… I knew that you wouldn't... That you would never love me back... So... well, my visions were the only place I could be with you. I shouldn't have disobeyed you but... I wasn't going to stop doing it if it was the only way I could love you.”
“Are you telling me the truth?” Donna asked curiously, pushing her veil away from her face, tears running down her cheek. “I don't... No one has ever... I don't... No, you can't love me.”
“I wanted... I wanted to stop having those visions and... When I found out that you felt the same way, I... I simply believed that it was the only way to...”
My words were interrupted by a kiss, a hurried one, tender, salty. Her trembling hands grabbed my head, her body was warm close to mine, her breathing stopped being agitated, the complete opposite of the beating of my heart.
“I thought the same...” Donna sighed, on my lips, letting her hands go down to my waist. The shadow of disbelief was still visible in her eye, but a different shine ended up overshadowing it. “(Y/N) you… Would you want to be with me?”
“Yes,” I said dryly, too abruptly. I was waiting so long... So long for you to ask me that question...
“No flowers...” she said, kissing me tenderly, letting our bodies sway together.
“You are my only flower...”
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undead-moth · 6 months ago
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Most of the criticisms of The Bear this season can be dismissed if we recognize that this season exists as a before to an after, which I imagine will be season 4.
People are saying that this season didn't advance the plot, or that nothing happened, or that it had no storyline - but this season had a very specific and very clear story arc take place. It just wasn't the one people wanted.
Season 2's finale refreshed the trauma Carmy endured as an upcoming chef under an abusive predecessor. The entire first episode of season 3 is essentially a montage reminding us of Carmy's past as a chef, and of that trauma, and the impact it's had on not only his mental wellbeing, but his understanding of what it means to be a chef or what it means to run a restaurant. Though he has parted from that environment, he's unable to stop himself from, or even recognize that he is falling into, old patterns. Carmy is caving to the idea that everything needs to be perfect, that everything needs to run at the highest possible caliber of excellence, and that the same environment he was abused in is the environment he must recreate in order to successfully run his new restaurant.
Meanwhile, the narrative is constantly reminding us that this is not the way. This is not the path that will lead Carmy to peace. And moreover, it is not what is, in reality, best for the restaurant, or what running a restaurant should be about.
In episodes 9 and 10 of this season, we have a lot of moments in which stock characters take center stage and are given unusually long opportunities to speak.
The beginning of episode 9 opens with a monologue from Martin Scorsese who is talking about film, and specifically the magic of filmmaking, which he explains requires honesty and spontaneity. Cicero talks about dreams, and how they start from a place of passion, and how if you nurture them, you can make an impact and change the world.
In the beginning of episode 10, an unnamed mentor of Carmy's speaks, and it's brought to our attention that this unnamed mentor was once in Carmy's exact place. He teaches him how to remove the wishbone from a chicken, and brings up making a wish with the wishbone as a child. He outright asks the question, "Why do cooks cook?" which is the overarching point of this whole show, but especially with this season, wherein Carmy loses sight of why cooks cook. Then this same chef explains that cooks cook to nurture people, to nurture themselves, to nurture their team, and to nurture their guests, and that it is enough to try to do just a little better than the day before.
Then many chefs are given the opportunity to speak at the funeral dinner for Ever, and each one of them offers different insights, really, on "Why do cooks cook?" One of these chefs compares cooking to magic, which brings us back to the Martin Scorsese monologue at the beginning of episode 9 and makes it clear that everything being said about filmmaking in that monologue is meant to be applied to cooking for the purposes of the narrative.
Then the floor is given to Chef Terry, who is the foil to the unnamed NYC head chef that abused Carmy, and for the purposes of this show, acts as the narrative's voice, delivering the message of this season. She begins her speech at the funeral dinner by mentioning that being the head chef of such a successful restaurant never happened in her "wildest dreams." She places a huge emphasis on the people she served, and says, "People don't remember the food. It's the people that they remember," which is in complete opposition to everything Carmy is currently believing is important about running a restaurant.
Then he confronts the NYC head chef, and this chef states rather explicitly that his behavior was justified because it made Carmy a better chef - and it's clear that to him, a chef isn't someone who nurtures or has passion for a dream or thinks cooking is magic. No, his idea of what it means to be a chef is being the best. He even says, "You wanted to be great, so you got rid of all the bullshit." Bullshit, in this case, referring to everything that wasn't the pursuit of being the best chef. Love, happiness, passion, etc.
Then he has his one-on-one with Chef Terry. She points out that the very reason she's closing her restaurant is because she wants to live - she wants the "bullshit." She continues to place an emphasis on the importance of people, who she worked with as a chef, and her hopes to meet more people in her retirement. When Carmy asks her what she would tell herself if she was in his place, she tells him that having no idea what you're doing makes you invincible.
None of this is by accident. None of this is aimless. There is a very clear message here, as well as a very clear character arc. In this season, the combination of losing Claire and opening a restaurant sends Carmy down a path of negative character development - negative character development is still development - in which he loses sight of what it means to be a chef and recommits to a belief system that once harmed him, and that he is now using to harm others, especially Syd.
At every turn, the narrative tells us, and Carmy, that this isn't right. This isn't the direction he should be going. And in the next season, or at least, in later seasons, Carmy is going to realize this. He's going to find his passion for cooking again, he's going to understand that it's about connecting with other people, and nurturing them, and he's going to accept that he can't be perfect, and that this doesn't make or break him as a chef, or his restaurant as a restaurant.
Meanwhile, Syd's own character arc is almost completely driven by Carmy's this season. Syd first applied to work at The Beef because she wanted to work with Carmy. She says outright that he is an excellent chef. He made her favorite dish ever. He is her idol. In this season, she is forced to grapple with the possibility that Carmy's behavior might be the reality of anyone who is that great, but also that if this is what it takes to be great, maybe she doesn't want it. Maybe she doesn't want to work with Carmy if this is what it means. Luca, another narrative foil, is meant to tempt Syd, because he so clearly values her as a chef, and currently isn't exhibiting any of the same toxic behaviors Carmy is.
This also plays an important role in their developing romance. While Syd has to determine whether or not she wants to work with Carmy, she will also, subconsciously, be determining whether or not she wants to be with Carmy. Does she want to be with someone who doesn't see her as an equal? Prior to this, even though Syd was clearly not cooking at the same professional level as Carmy, Carmy afforded her respect, and treated her like an equal even as she was growing as a chef. Now, because of the arc Carmy is on this season, that isn't the case. He is not respecting her, and he is not treating her like an equal.
I will bet anything that the story goes as follows from here on out:
Syd gets fed up with Carmy's behavior and determines that it's not worth it to work with him, that he's not who she thought he was. This in turn leaves the restaurant in pieces, because Syd was the only person holding the restaurant up this season. Carmy then fails miserably without her, and he's forced to realize - remember, really - how badly the restaurant needs her. He will also realize how badly he needs her.
Then it will be time for his redemption arc. He will have to earn Syd back. Eventually, he will earn her back, and when he does, he will demonstrate that he respects her, and sees her as an equal. Then it will finally be time to begin their romance, as both of them will see in each other exactly what they need in another person. At the same time, this is what will save their restaurant.
But. In order for any of that to happen, this season - the one everyone is pissed about for not canonizing SydCarmy and thinks had no plot and wasn't saying anything - needed to happen first.
This season was a very purposeful setup for the rest of the series. It all needed to happen in order for the rest of the story to happen. It should not need to be said that this isn't bad writing.
It's excellent writing.
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deadpresidents · 9 days ago
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Will the flags be at half staff for the inauguration of trump? If so has that ever happened before where flags were at half staff during a presidential inauguration?
Great question!
When a President dies, the flag is lowered to half-staff for 30 days from the time of his death, so yes, the flags will be at half-staff on Inauguration Day (January 20th).
I don't know how often it has happened, but this will not be the first time that the flag is at half-staff during a Presidential Inauguration. Richard Nixon's Second Inauguration took place less than a month after the death of former President Harry S. Truman (on December 26, 1972). You can see the flags at half-staff in this photo of the Capitol during Nixon's Second Inauguration, on January 20, 1973.
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Two days after Nixon's Second Inauguration, his immediate predecessor and the only other living President at the time, Lyndon B. Johnson also died. LBJ's death nearly 52 years ago was the last time a Democratic President had died until President Carter's death yesterday.
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plutoarttv · 4 days ago
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Do you have more things to say about your prophet OC? I haven't thought of more questions, but I was thinking about some of my aspec OCs and remembering how much fun it is to have long conversations comparing yours and other people's OCs, and it made me think about your Catholic guy specifically, and now I wanna talk about him and tell you all about mine
I always have more to say about my Catholic guy lol 
I don’t think I’ve ever really properly introduced him, but his name is Donovan Flahertie. He was born near the end of the 1800’s, moved to America soon after, and died soon after that. He was dead for over a hundred years, living with the Angels, kinda adopted by his predecessor, Armoros (there’s a lot there). Once he became a prophet he got yoinked back to life, but he only made it to like thirty before being killed for good. 
I said before that he was asexual and homoromantic, but I didn’t understand aspec identities then as well as I do now, I think he’s aroace. His partner is just plain gay, but I don’t think that it causes too much conflict (not much about their relationship is conventional already, and sexuality is probably the least of their problems lol). I see them less as dating and more like… trauma bonded life partners who might kiss sometimes and might get married for tax benefits. Neither of them are legally alive anymore though. So maybe they don’t pay taxes. Anyway
What about your acespec ocs? Do they have partners? How do they feel about being acespec? 
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bodiesbodiesbodiesx3 · 2 years ago
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wait, genuinely, what's the black history behind dyke? i've never heard anything about it, so i'm genuinely curious to learn, if you don't mind explaining? (completely fine if not!) (also apologies if i worded the question a bit weird, wasn't sure how else to say it)
it's fine, its fine!
So consider this a LOOSE timeline, like loose, I had to research this for cultural studies
In the 1920s, around 1919-1921, "bulldyking' and bulldyke, both of which are considered to be dyke's predecessor was heard and noted down by white professors to be AAVE, specifically used by black women with the first woman to use dyking around being a (black) woman from a Harlem prison. However, bulldyke has been recorded far earlier than that in the black community with Harvey Neal as it was their nickname and was mentioned in the 1890s as a woman won their affections. Knowing the meaning of Bulldyke, Harvey Neal was most likely a black butch lesbian of their era and was also recorded in 1906's Human Sexuality as vert specifically being the speech of Philadelphians (historically black) and Backcountry Black Americans, reaffirming it as AAVE.
In 1926, Nigger Heaven was released and written by a white man based around the black people of Harlem, specifically around the Harlem Renaissance and was the first time Dyke as a term was used to mean lesbian, coming from the shortening of bulldyke or more particularly, BD Woman (bulldyke woman). This was the true first instance of dyke ever being used to mean lesbian in any instance.
It was then recorded in the 1930s in the American Slang Dictonary as an alternate term for lesbian and during that era, wasn't even considered a slur but simply black people slang.
Dyke became a slur during the fifties when white people and this unfortunately includes white sapphics of that era began using it as a slur against black lesbians (and other lower class lesbians but this often again mostly is black people of that era) and in thw 60s, was used against all lesbians because of association of black masculinity and then merged to lesbianism as a whole.
It was ""reclaimed"" in the 1980s but with reclamation, came erasure. Most non-black sapphics in that era simply refused to acknowledge its history if they were aware and any connections we had as black lesbians were lost outside the black community because it meant acknowledging the origins. This is where the alternate etymologies began showing up.
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jotun-philosopher · 7 months ago
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A narrative clothesline
The following ramble isn't what I think is *likely* to happen in S3; it's more of a narrative clothesline that my brain has constructed almost completely independently of any conscious effort on my part, influenced by various metas and my own and others' speculation, and it serves as a thing onto which I can peg images and vignettes and headcanons that I really like. (My brain is a very interesting place and tends to make stuff up without me noticing...) This gets VERY LONG, so have a bookmark handy!
Wackiness under the cut! Also torture, psychological abuse, violence, PTSD -- tread carefully.
Now, on with the motley!
***
Long, long before any sort of beginning, eons (if such temporal vocabulary makes sense here, given that time hasn't been invented yet) before a certain flame-haired starmaker realised he needed a hand with his blueprints, the Archangels Raphael and Azrael become suspicious of the Metatron and his interpretation of the Great Plan, becoming the first two angels *ever* to question when they start probing his motives. The Metatron takes great exception to this, and by the time he's finished with them, there isn't enough left to make two whole angels. Scenting a possibility for experimentation, he stitches these remnants together into a single new angel of lesser rank, who he hopes will be more compliant and biddable.
...Okay, you can stop laughing now.
[Main Titles]
See, in modern times (a couple of months or so after Gabriel's shock resignation), the Supreme Archangel "Raphael" -- resplendent in elaborately draped robes of Heavenly white (difficult to run or defend oneself in) with wide bands of elaborate gold decoration at the wrists and high collar (which, looked at another way, resemble symbolic chains) over bare feet (terribly angelic, but a classic way to humiliate captives while making it harder for them to flee). The overall effect is of regal, ethereal magnificence and dignity -- unless you know the full context, in which case the clearest impression is one of mockery, contempt and "We own you -- mind, body and soul -- and can do what we like to you with absolute impunity. Think about that before you consider rebelling."
The facial features and shock of fluffy white hair are heartbreakingly familiar, the utterly blank facial expression and stiff, upright demeanour less so. His voice, when he speaks, is many octaves below the 'soft bookseller' tones one might expect. Also unusual is "Raphael"'s tendency, when unobserved, to stare into space while touching his mouth or fiddling with a mysterious silvery trinket; otherwise, he goes about his duties in the manner expected of an Archangel, knowing only what he needs to know to prepare for the Second Coming. Which means that when his predecessor in post and a former Duke of Hell sneak in via an unregarded rear entrance to plant bugs, "Raphael" doesn't notice or react to them at all!
Cut to Crowley sprawling on a bench in some rural area, brooding deeply and looking portentously undisturbable (his native optimism is taking a while to rev up after the recent emotional whammies). When someone unexpectedly stands between him and the sun, he starts to snarl at them, only to be interrupted by a cheery, "Party name of Crowley?" Crowley leaps up, startled, accusatory and hostile, but the International Express delivery guy hastily clarifies, "It's ok, sir, just a mundane delivery -- but the lady was very specific about where to find you." Crowley (recognising the style) simmers down enough to take the letter with some grumbled thanks, opens it and is stopped in his grouchy tracks by a reference to the body swap that could *only* come from someone deeply familiar with the Nice & Accurate Prophecies.
Attention thoroughly caught, he scans the rest of the letter, swears in ancient Sumerian and bolts for the Bentley, nearly colliding with four startled, nervous-looking angels in militaristic garb. Crowley reaches for his crank handle, but then notices odd details -- the large wooden box one of them is holding, the dishevelled state of the uniforms, the insignia, all four of the angels bowing to him with deep and genuine respect... "Hang on, you lot are from Aziraphale's old platoon, aren't you? What the blazes are you doing here?"
The angel holding the box stutters in fright for a few seconds, but manages to get out, "Th-The L-T... He's...not exactly dead, but we're not sure what the Metatron did to him. W-whatever it was, it was bad, so we, that is the platoon, got together and drew lots and we gathered all the L-T's personal effects we could find and deserted..." The angel proffers the box to Crowley, while one of the less-intimidated angels explains, "You're effectively the L-T's next of kin, the whole platoon saw him desert in favour of you during the last go at Armageddon, and we've decided we respect him and you more than we fear the Metatron."
Crowley is very impressed, and says so. "But what about the rest of you?"
"They're back Upstairs, keeping watch over the L-T in case of untoward developments."
"Rrrrright... Oooooookayyy... I take it, then, that you're willing to take orders from me until the Second Coming is foiled?" The deserters nod. "Right, in that case -- you know where the Bookshop is? Meet me there, but don't teleport directly; it's too easily traced." The deserters salute crisply and set off flying, while Crowley climbs into the Bentley and takes a moment to investigate the box. It does indeed contain Aziraphale's clothes and personal effects, and he spends a couple of minutes just holding the familiar old waistcoat against his cheek and inhaling its scent, before starting the engine and veering off at speed. He's so awash with emotion that the one item missing from the box doesn't immediately register...
Back in Soho, things are fairly slow in Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death, so Nina's got time to chat with the customers. They're interrupted by the sound of a recklessly driven 1933 Bentley blaring Velvet Underground dopplering up the street in their direction. The Bentley turns within its own length and slips neatly into position outside the Bookshop, before disgorging a goth-punk redhead and a snatch of vocals -- "RUN RUN RUN RUN RUUUUN". The redhead slams the door, hefts a large box under his arm, yells, "FUCK THA SECOND COMING!!!!! HAHAHA!!" skyward (with accompanying hand gestures) and swaggers into the Bookshop as if he owns the place. Following a stunned silence, the customers ask, "Who...was that?" Nina replies, "Oh, that's Mr Crowley. He's one of our local, uh, characters. Basically co-owns that bookshop with his husband."
Inside the Bookshop, Crowley calls, "Oi, Muriel! You there?" and is answered by a nervous squeak from a pile of books on the mezzanine. He leaves the box by the till, bounces up there and glances from the haphazardly stacked volumes to the extremely worried scrivener hiding behind them. Plopping comfortably on the floor, he asks, "Lord of the Rings, eh? [waves the book in question] How're you getting on with Tolkien?"
Caught a little off-guard by Crowley's sudden appearance and friendly demeanour, Muriel replies, "Um.. I-I-I... It's good, but I found it a bit overwhelming. I-I liked the bit about the elves only guarding their forest, not ruling or owning it, though."
"Yeaaah, Tolkien's style can be a bit much if you're not used to it. He was a pretty interesting guy, though, great linguist. You'd've liked him. Anything else grab your interest?"
Muriel brightens up a little. "Yeah! The Discworld stuff is great! There's so much there to think about that I hadn't even considered before! There was this bit in one of the later ones, about sin being treating people as things, and um, I..." Crowley gestures for them to continue. "Well, it got me thinking about how the Metatron was before, with the stuff in the trial we saw, and just telling Mr Fell that I was going to be in charge here without giving him a say, which is a big overreach and a kind of theft, and I think the wards are damaged but I can't fix them myself because that would really be theft, and I think the building's a bit sapient and resents my presence, and I haven't opened or anything because I don't know how bookshops work and don't have Mr Fell's permission to sell things, and I... I don't want the Second Coming to happen because there are so many books I haven't read yet!!!"
Crowley makes a 'simmer down' gesture. "Okay. Taking it from the top: Thinking is always good, never stop doing it. You're absolutely right about Heaven and the Metatron sinning by treating people as things. We will need Aziraphale here to reset the wards, but there're ways to shore them up without committing metaphysical theft. This building may well be a bit sapient, like my car, because Aziraphale's put so much time and love into it. If you're truly against the Second Coming, then you have my permission to be here. Aziraphale actively tries to avoid opening or making sales anyway, so you're doing fine on that front. Okay?"
He's about to say more, but is interrupted by a sound from outside that could be described as "a six-foot-tall cat played by John Hamm negotiating the expulsion of a particularly obstinate hairball while in extreme emotional distress".
Of course, what is actually is, is a certain renegade Supreme Archangel who's seen something that's upset him to the point of dry heaving and loud emotional meltdown: "THEY KILLED HIM!!! THEY WIPED HIM LIKE THEY WERE GOING TO DO TO ME AND THEY PUT HIM IN MY OLD JOB AND THAT SOMEHOW MAKES IT WORSE!!!" Beelzebub tries to calm him down, and they eventually succeed in directing Gabriel's attention to the Bentley, the Bookshop and the startled redhead leaning out of the doors.
It's a mark of the seriousness of the situation that Crowley lets them into the Bookshop without a word of snark. He directs them to the sofa, pours himself into the chair opposite and stares at them with a quizzically raised eyebrow. "Why'd you come back?"
Gabriel is still gathering himself, so Beez answers, "We got talking... We both have a lot to atone for, and Gabriel wanted to repay you and Aziraphale for your kindness better than he could have done when everything blew up before [Gabriel nods emphatically]. Then we reasoned that the destruction of everything in Armageddon round two would catch us wherever we were, and we'd be just as dead as if we'd been executed for returning..."
"...so we figured, what the heck, let's make it worthwhile!" Gabriel takes a slightly shaky breath. "So we came back to help you and Aziraphale mess up this Apocalypse, and we snuck into Heaven to plant spy flys [Beez smirks while Crowley does an impressed double-take], but then we saw..."
"Yeah, I heard you." Crowley pulls out the letter from earlier and hands it over. "Aziraphale's not dead, he's way too stubborn for that. We have more allies than you think, but we've got to plan carefully or we're stuffed. Speaking of allies..." He launches himself upright and swaggers to the door, where the deserters he met earlier have just landed. In something of a Regimental-Sergeant-Major mode, he says, "Right, you lot, this Bookshop is pretty much HQ for now, but the wards are damaged and we can't properly repair them without Aziraphale. Set up a guard duty rota covering all possible entrances and exits, at the double, but keep it discreet. Got that?" That done, he gently dragoons Muriel into helping him get his plants out of the Bentley and into his and Aziraphale's bedroom. When he's alone once more, he spends a few moments puttering around, sorting out his angel's clothes from the box (noting the missing bow tie with a twinge of sadness) and lining up the plants on the windowsill and anywhere else they'll fit. That done, he sternly tells them, "Right, you lot, listen up! You live here now, got it? So you'd better look nice for when Aziraphale gets back or else!" The plants visibly stand to attention as Crowley wields his plant mister threateningly, before gently spritzing their leaves.
Up in Heaven, "Raphael" has by chance managed to scrape up enough independent thought to wonder about the strange silvery trinket he's been holding on to without properly noticing its existence. Once the idea enters his consciousness, it won't leave, and he suddenly can't focus on anything else [the vibe and camera angels I have in mind are very 'Professor Yana properly noticing his pocket watch', but less evil]. He happens to still be holding it when he starts absently touching his mouth again, he accidentally swallows it...And there's a burst of mental white light, a garbled flood of memories -- Aziraphale is restored! He takes a couple of seconds to reorient himself, stretches his neck from side to side, wiggles his shoulders and generally limbers up to be a Chaotic Murder Hornet... Then Saraquel forcibly re-imposes the "Raphael" persona, but squashing Aziraphale inside his own mind rather than erasing him outright; she has her own plans regarding the Metatron, and can't afford to let Azzy be too chaotic too early.
Aziraphale is understandably furious and immediately starts testing the bounds of this latest development with subversive intent. (Beware the fury of a patient angel!)
Back in Soho, a day or two later, Nina's becoming increasingly worried about Heavenly and Hellish matters that she's witnessed or inferred; she's feeling a little awkward about contacting Crowley, but sends a message across to the Bookshop anyway. Crowley swaggers across the road in reply at about closing time (after a long shift monitoring the spy-flys), helps Nina carry some stuff inside, then sprawls in a chair with a raised-eyebrow Look. "Got your message."
Under the pressure of the sunglasses and the eyebrow, Nina quails a little, but says, "I... I owe you an apology." Crowley's other eyebrow goes up. "For raving hypocrisy. I shouldn't have tried to lecture you on how to run your relationship right after telling you off for doing the same thing. I'm sorry."
"We're even, then." Crowley sits up and leans forward. "There's something else, though. You're scared, about something you can't ask anyone else about. What is it?"
Nina hesitates, worried about sounding odd, then says, "You know Wintersmith?" Crowley nods emphatically. "I was reading it last night, and the part where Tiffany's critiquing a romance novel's depiction of a sheep farm made me think about coffee shop AU fanfiction and the stuff they get wrong -- like the characters running off in the middle of the morning rush to interfere in their neighbours' love lives -- and then I realised there're a few things about Maggie that don't add up, and there're angels and demons all over the place and WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON???"
Crowley is more or less unruffled. Gently, he tells Nina, "I'm the last person to discourage asking questions, and I understand why you have them, but this is one of those situations where getting answers is a risk; you can't un-eat an apple and expect to get the same apple back afterward, and the truth you're asking about would probably look like cosmic horror from a human perspective. If you and any of the other Whickber Sstreet Traderss really want answerss, I'm prepared to give them -- say, tomorrow evening at the Bookssshop? -- but be very ssure you truly want to know. Ok?" Upon her confirmation, he takes his leave, sashaying back to the Bookshop as Nina starts to work out why he used an apple metaphor in particular...
The next evening, the Bookshop is more full of people than it has been for quite some time; the Whickber Street Traders & Shopkeepers have (as Crowley suspected) been wanting answers about what's going on since the Meeting Ball. He's trying to call the meeting to some kind of order when there's another knock at the door. Suspicious (everyone he was expecting is already present), Crowley approaches the doors just as two file cards are pushed through the letterbox, showing Prophecies 3008 and 5004. Once he's recovered from the surprise, Crowley tears open the door to reveal Anathema Device and Newt Pulsifer and invites them in without further ado. Introductions are swiftly made, and Anathema explains that she knew she'd be needed tonight to explain about Agnes, and wanted to take the opportunity to pass on the Nice & Accurate Prophecies card index to someone who'd truly appreciate it for what it is. She then has to shake Newt a bit, because he's been rooted to the spot, staring in awe around the Bookshop. "This place is brilliant! It's kind of the Platonic ideal of old bookshops! I... [excited squeak, gesturing]"
Flattered on Aziraphale's behalf, Crowley smirks, notes that it's kind of Newt to say so, then saunters over to the till and rings the handbell for silence. "I hereby call to order this Truly Extraordinary Meeting of the Whickber Street Traders & Shopkeepers Association. I know you all want answers about what's been going on, and you definitely deserve them. Where would you like to start?"
Nina raises a hand and asks, "That metaphor you used yesterday, about eating apples -- there was a reason you used that, wasn't there?"
"Ah, yessssssssss!" Crowley grins hugely. "An excellent choice! Imagine, if you will a desert, and within that desert, a huge walled garden with a certain tree in the centre. A certain demon has been told to 'get up there and make some trouble', but he isn't really used to being a demon yet and has doubts about this whole 'evil for evil's sake' business, so he does the least troublesome thing he can think of that fits the brief, finds the official response a tad excessive, recognises the cute Principality on duty at the Eastern Gate, slithers over for a chat, the angel admits to giving away his flaming sword out of compassionate concern, and, well..."
"Vavoom?" Gabriel seems to be trying hard not to squee too obviously.
"Vavoom!" agrees Crowley, not buying the act for a second. He proceeds to recount (in as concise a manner as he can) the 6000-odd years of his and Aziraphale's joint history, not going into too much detail on specific incidents, apart from the Job business (at the request of Gabriel and some of the shopkeepers who'd never liked the 'official' version -- Gabe's pretty good-humoured about how daft the whole affair makes him look) and somewhat on the Bullet Catch (to impressed noises from Mutt and his spouse). It's all surprisingly lighthearted until the account gets to the arrival of the Antichrist and the first Armageddon, at which point Crowley becomes focused and deadly serious, calling in frequent contributions from Gabe, Beez, Newt and Anathema (the story of the body-swap dodge gets a rousing cheer, though!) and emphasising that what ultimately resolved the crisis was humans being magnificently human. Things get even more serious when the explanations reach Gabriel's casting-out and the impending Second Coming/Armageddon v2, and once the story's finished, the Whickber Street Traders have a moment of overwhelmed silence.
Nina breaks the silence by rather numbly commenting that Crowley really wasn't kidding about the cosmic horror thing. Other traders join in, contemplatively noting that the Ineffable Husbands are humanity's unofficial godparents and the ultimate queer elders, and Mr Brown (who's old enough to remember both) remarks on the parallels with both the Cold War and the dark times when homosexuality was illegal.
The atmosphere is rudely broken by an indication that someone Upstairs wishes to speak to Muriel immediately. Beez, the shopkeepers and guests immediately dive for cover behind every available bookshelf, while Crowley and Gabriel throw Muriel candles for the summoning circle and take cover themselves.
Muriel greets the activated circle with a cheery, polite, "Hello, this is the Angelic Embassy in London, Muriel speaking, how can I help?" A familiar (?) silhouette forms in the light within the circle; the Archangel "Raphael" is checking in to make sure that nebulously defined preparations on Earth are going well, and he is in addition curious as to why there were so many humans in the Bookshop earlier. Muriel explains that they were hosting a shopkeepers' association meeting, adding on the spur of the moment that it's part of their Earthly cover. As soon as they mention that, "Raphael"'s expression visibly twitches and glitches, as if there's some fierce internal struggle going on, he hunches over, looks up -- and it's Aziraphale in control once more, forcing himself out from under the imposed persona and visibly terrified.
Gabbling with nerves and fidgeting agitatedly with his hands, Aziraphale delivers a frantic apology for messing with everyone's heads at the Meeting Ball and begs Muriel to pass the message on if they can, because he's not sure he'll live to deliver it in person or be able to make practical amends. While Muriel is promising to pass the message on, Mutt notices something about Aziraphale's hand movements -- subtle pulling and folding among the agitated flailing -- and laser-focuses on that through a gap in the bookshelves. Cautiously, Muriel starts to ask whether there're any messages for Crowley, but Aziraphale notices there's someone listening in on his end and frantically gestures for Muriel to stop talking (in the process concealing a subtle wrist-flick throwing motion). He has a split-second to make eye contact with Crowley and attempt to convey "I love you more than anything" via eyebrow movements, and to receive a raised-eyebrow nod that conveys "I love you too, I'm working on things down here, I know what I'm holding without looking, and the answer to the associated question is yes," in return, before the "Raphael" persona is forcibly reimposed.
It's unsettling to watch -- his body is yanked mechanically, involuntarily upright like a puppet having its strings pulled, and he settles too smoothly back into the formal posture from the start of the call as his face becomes utterly blank once more. The call ends in a thoroughly conventional fashion, leaving the meeting attendees creeping out from their hiding places looking extremely shaken.
One or two people, once they've found their voices again, start to wonder aloud whether Aziraphale's apology was remotely sincere. Crowley confirms that it was, in a tone that suggests he's perplexed and a bit offended that anyone could think otherwise. Mutt backs him up. "He was in fear for his life! Who'd waste time lying in that kind of situation?!" He takes a couple of calming breaths, "So, yes, completely sincere, but I got the sense that it was at the same time a sort of misdirecting patter. Did anyone else see what he was doing with his hands? Looked like pulling something out of his sleeves and throwing it out of the circle right before he..."
"You're absolutely right." Crowley holds out his right hand and opens it to reveal a small, roundish tartan lump. As he unwraps Aziraphale's bow tie from around the package, he continues, "The thing about conducting a millennia-long clandestine relationship with painful annihilation as the price of discovery is that you have to be, or get, very good at communicating in ways that won't be understood or noticed by anyone who doesn't know the full context [quick sideways glance at Maggie and Nina]. For example, this..." He finishes unwrapping the bow tie to reveal Aziraphale's signet ring. "...means, among other things, 'I trust you with everything that I am.'" No-one dares say a word as Crowley slips the ring onto the ring finger of his left hand and secures the bow tie around his watch strap. He then wearily dismisses the meeting, responding to queries from the Whickber Street Traders about how they can help by saying, "Just... Keep being human, as hard as you can. That's what did for Armageddon last time..."
Up in Heaven, Saraquel is worried and speculative as she watches "Raphael" depart to resume his duties elsewhere, looking unusually shaky. She consults the memory-mangling app on her angelphone and realises that repeatedly imposing the "Raphael" persona without first erasing Aziraphale has rendered that persona increasingly fragile and liable to be thrown off permanently at any time.
Aziraphale does just that as soon as he's sure he's unobserved, but (warned by his previous experiences) acts as if he hasn't, all while weaving a small illusion miracle to bolster the pretence until he's ready to cast it off.
A couple of days later, Crowley is sitting in Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death, brooding deeply and knocking back inordinate quantities of Nina's strongest espresso after a night watching the spy-flys. He's jolted out of his reverie by the arrival of the International Express delivery guy, cheery and businesslike as ever, bringing a letter from Anathema and a large parcel she's passing on for someone else. Crowley opens the letter first, reads it in mounting agitation, quaffs the last of his latest coffee and races back to the Bookshop. While Muriel's examining the letter, Crowley opens the parcel to find a number of things from Aziraphale -- Gabriel's scarf and tailored overcoat (along with an apologetic note about not being able to find more of his clothes), all records of his attempted execution and Gabriel's kangaroo court, information on the murders of Azrael and Raphael, a complete list of angels who've been memory-wiped without Falling (Muriel is perturbed to find their own name on the list), change logs for the Book of Life, details of other things the Metatron has been doing in an attempt to impede the Ineffable Husbands' ability to muck up Armageddon round 2; all in all, a very helpful mound of evidence for anyone intending to take down the system. In mounting fear for Aziraphale's safety and warned by part of Anathema's letter, Crowley leaves the Bookshop, the parcel and its contents under the temporary care of Gabriel, Beelzebub and Muriel and goes tearing off in the Bentley, Best of Queen blaring from the radio. Near the M25, though, the playback is interrupted by an ominous announcement: "Peoples of the Earth, please attend carefully. The information that follows is vital to the future of all of you..."
Up in Heaven, the Metatron is hijacking every sound-emitting device on Earth to transmit the "good news" about the Second Coming. He makes a smarmy, patronising speech about how wonderful it's going to be and how humanity should rejoice about the culmination of the Great Plan etc. etc. before introducing "Supreme Archangel Raphael" and handing him the trumpet to blow to formally begin hostilities. "Raphael" takes the trumpet (a tad dubiously, but the Metatron's too full of himself to notice) but doesn't immediately move to use it. Instead, in a deep and resonant voice, he says, "Before we begin, there is a quotation that I feel is very appropriate at this juncture." He then drops the "Raphael" illusion entirely and scrunches up the trumpet like tissue paper as he says, "As a wise and wily serpent once said, 'Great pustulent mangled BOLLOCKS to the GREAT BLASTED PLAN!'", his voice rising through the octaves to the familiar Aziraphale tones.
As Metatron has a major 'oh crap' moment (and Crowley, barrelling along the motorway, registers surprise, affection, pride and intense concern simultaneously), Aziraphale builds on his advantage of surprise to bluntly explain exactly what's really intended to happen, viciously and succinctly eviscerating the concept of 'Rapture' and the idea of Heaven and Hell giving a flying fuck about humanity, utterly condemning the celestial/infernal ego games and urging any angels or demons who've been doubting the plan to desert, explore life on Earth for themselves and make their own decisions.
Metatron, having recovered from the shock, tries to get his plans back on track. "My Lord Archan--"
"No." Aziraphale starts determinedly walking towards the elevators. "My name is Aziraphale. I am a Principality, and I claim the Earth and every living being upon it as my protectorate. The Archangel Raphael died a very long time ago, as you should know full well, Metatron, given that you murdered him."
The Metatron switches to faux-concern: "You have to do this! you're going against the Great Plan! You'll be damned--"
Aziraphale shrugs and keeps walking. "I am reliably informed that it's not so bad once you get used to it."
The Metatron is furious now: "You're a worthless remnant stitched together from worthless remnants, and if you want to have any value at all in your miserable little existence--"
Aziraphale makes a dismissive gesture and keeps walking, outwardly unaffected. (Cutaway to Crowley: "Oh, angel... I'm gonna pamper you SO HARD when I get you home...") He's making surprisingly good progress, between the confusion he's sown in the ranks and the support of those members of his old platoon who elected to stay behind and keep an eye on him. The Metatron manages to exhort a very few of the really fanatical loyalists to try to stop Aziraphale by force, heavily outnumbered though they are. Not many of them get through to Aziraphale, and he manages to dodge them in such a way that they end up hitting each other -- until Sandalphon, by an unlucky fluke, manages to catch him hard on the face. There's a breathless moment of shocked silence, broken by Aziraphale wryly snarking about how sloppy and complacent Sandalphon's form has become since Sodom and Gomorrah. He takes advantage of the confusion this causes to disarm Sandalphon of his sword and neutralise him, then hesitates as if to turn and support the anti-Armageddon rebels he's convinced -- they urge him to get back to Earth and Crowley. He does so with considerable haste, meeting comparatively little resistance. (Cutaway to Crowley, looking more worried than ever as the Heavenly transmission cuts off.)
[My ideas form a four-way branch at this point; the commonalities are Aziraphale crash-landing somewhere with his wings broken and/or on fire, Crowley picking him up and doing loads of healing miracles, creating a scabbard for the sword that Aziraphale is clutching like grim death, wrapping him in blankets, carrying him to the Bentley and driving him back to Soho, all the while fretting over him.
--Version 1: Aziraphale falls past an airliner and lands somewhere isolated enough that a search-and-rescue team with helicopter support comes looking for him. Aziraphale is traumatised enough to be very twitchy about letting the paramedics (who, kind or no, are after all strangers) do anything to him until Crowley shows up; he flatly refuses transport to a hospital and (by some chain of events) ends up staying the night with Crowley in the guest bedroom of a nearby cottage that proves to belong to Madame Tracy and Shadwell.
--Version 2: Aziraphale lands in the sea a couple of miles off Beachy Head, with his wings on fire -- or in some other highly visible way that sets off an immediate flurry of calls to the Coastguard. Eastbourne RNLI are tasked to the rescue, and once the Deputy Launch Authority's gotten over the initial 'WTF?' reaction, they decide to launch the station's Tamar-class all-weather lifeboat to fish him out (reasoning that when rescuing a casualty with a 12-foot wingspan, it'd be sensible to have the larger, more stable vessel). Crowley roars up to the lifeboat station in the Bentley right as the Tamar is launched, pops his wings and flies off after the boat with a cry of, "AZIRAPHALE, YOU MAD BASTARD, WHERE ARE YOU???" He actually finds Aziraphale first, grabs his hand and holds on to him with grim determination, which makes things a lot easier for the RNLI crew -- a demon with huge and distinctive wings is a heck of a lot easier to spot than a football-sized lump on the surface of even slightly rolling seas. Plus, between physical and psychological fatigue, injuries and voluminous, waterlogged robes, Aziraphale probably wouldn't have been able to miracle himself afloat long enough for the lifeboat crew to get there. Thanks to Crowley, though, get there they do, and once the Ineffables are safely on board they turn back for the lifeboat station; Crowley fusses around Aziraphale, doing healing and drying miracles and getting in the way of crew trying to do casualty care, while the coxswain tries to figure out how to put all this into the post-rescue report. Back at the station, the crew check the Ineffables over again, feed them choccy biscuits and hot sweet tea, then see them on their way. (And there's a *very* interesting segment on Saving Lives At Sea a few months later!)
--Version 3a: Aziraphale lands in St James' Park and drags himself over to their bench without intervention from passers-by, who (if they notice him at all) assume he's doing some sort of performance art.
--Version 3b: Aziraphale lands in St James' Park and is immediately besieged by solicitous bystanders -- some genuinely want to help, but some others in the crowd are classic Nice Little Old Ladies who think they Know Best and everyone should do as they say because they go to church in fancy clothes every Sunday; they barge around being unhelpfully helpful and ignoring or steamrolling over Aziraphale's protests that he's fine and just needs to rest, until one of them grabs his broken wing, saying, "My grandson's an ornithologist, dear, I know what I'm doing," and twists it. Aziraphale screams in agony and Crowley, already approaching at speed, teleports over and verbally tears the little-old-lady brigade a new one, all hissy and snarly and protective.]
Regardless of branch, cut to Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death, where Nina is wrangling a gaggle of obnoxious influencer types out of the door, to cheers from the regular clientele. One of them comments jovially about how worrying it'd be if she ever lost her knack for that, which leads to a more general discussion about people acting out of character -- fading abruptly when Nina notices something outside and makes a grim comment about people who normally drive like absolute bloody maniacs suddenly acting like they're transporting fragile glass sculptures. Crowley's driving is notorious enough in Soho that everyone immediately rushes to the window to see the Bentley creeping gently into its spot outside the Bookshop. Crowley clambers out slowly, closes the driver's door quietly and moves around the car while Nina and the customers speculate about the fluffy white bundle they briefly glimpsed in the passenger seat. Their hypotheses are blown out of the water when Crowley straightens up, holding a sleepy Aziraphale in a bridal carry (wings, robes, sword and all), bumps the car door closed with his butt and carries his angel gently into the Bookshop, popping his wings for umbrella purposes when it starts raining.
In the Bookshop, Gabriel, Beelzebub and Muriel are almost more perturbed by Aziraphale's injured state than they were by the Heavenly transmission earlier. Without anything being spoken aloud, they help Crowley get him out of the Archangel robes and tucked up in bed. Crowley takes a certain savage glee in picking up the removed robes, chucking them out of the window and setting them on fire before removing boots, shades and blazer and snuggling next to his angel.
The next morning, Crowley drifts awake to find that Aziraphale has wriggled around significantly during the night and is now clinging to him big-spoon style, with all the tenacity of a particularly traumatised barnacle. Unwilling to deny his angel the comfort and closeness after the trauma of the past couple of months, he dozes and snuggles quietly, until the sound of the angelic deserters changing guard duty shifts reminds him that the Bookshop still isn't fully secure. Aziraphale has by this time woken up and is keenly aware of the same issue. He's determined to get the wards sorted immediately if not sooner; Crowley knows he's right that it needs doing, but is worried that he's pushing himself too hard, too soon. They bicker about it lightly while getting dressed -- a process slightly complicated by Aziraphale still feeling rather shaky and having considerable trouble pulling his wings back in. Crowley helps out with some small miracles, hands Aziraphale his walking stick from 1862 and does his bow tie. He takes a step back to bask in the warm fuzzies of seeing his angel looking like himself again; Aziraphale in turn gets very mushy about the exact finger his signet ring ended up on, enough to grab Crowley's lapels and pull him in for a quick smooch before they get to work.
Downstairs, Gabriel, Beelzebub and Muriel are worriedly discussing Aziraphale and the upcoming apocalypse, until the angel in question appears on the mezzanine, chiming in with some authoritative, reassuring statement. Between his outfit, demeanour and wings, he cuts a very impressive figure; the effect might have been undercut by an uncertain wobble as he starts to go down the stairs, but Crowley deftly draws attention away from that while going backwards down the staircase ahead of Aziraphale, reassuring him along the lines of, "I'll catch you if you fall." Once down, Aziraphale is businesslike in corralling Team Ineffable to help scrub out the summoning circle and prepare for the re-casting of the wards. When the time comes for him and Crowley to actually perform that particular miracle, though, he hesitates, remembering everything that happened as a result of the last joint miracle. Gabriel picks up on this and points out that this time around, there's absolutely no need to be clandestine -- and given that the super-subtle hiding miracle clocked a game-breaking 25 Lazarii, he personally is very interested to see what this one'll do. Buoyed up by this, the Ineffable Husbands set to the working with a will, creating a fairly epic lightshow!
Cut to Heaven, where the miracle detection system goes interestingly berserk and then explodes.
Cut back to the Bookshop, where Aziraphale is leaning slightly on Crowley and making his way to his comfy chair as all the angel-adrenaline of the past few days finally presents its bill.
Shenanigans happen! Team Ineffable and their human allies do awesome things! The Second Coming is a damp squib because so many angels and demons refuse to play along! The whole rotten house of cards gets torn down! Jesus nopes out of the whole mess and leaves the Ineffable Husbands with a means of contacting him, along with an offer to do their wedding catering pro bono! Mysteries are resolved in the most positive way possible! All the other weirdness is explained! The Ineffable Husbands talk about stuff! The Metatron is permanently banished to an inescapable plane where he can do nothing except tread barefoot on Lego and sharpened metal d4s for all eternity! Crowley gets to ask questions of God and Aziraphale gets to call Her out in detail for being so fuckin' awful, treating people as things, condoning so much cruelty in service of a never-explained Plan and calling it 'love'! She offers to marry them then and there, but they both refuse because that feels too much like an offer of Heaven's approval on Heaven's terms, not theirs! (and so on and so forth)
A few nights later, Aziraphale and Crowley head to the roof of the bookshop. Crowley fishes out a sheaf of notes and sketches which he's been working on for the past week or so, sets them floating and flirtatiously asks Aziraphale for an assist with the night's planned miracle. Aziraphale (knowing exactly what's needed because Crowley's been consulting with him closely regarding tonight's hijinks) sets a miraculous filter over London that cancels out all of the light pollution without messing with the working of the streetlights and so on. As the sky becomes a glorious Bortle class 1 panorama, he hugs Crowley from behind and they both pop their wings as Crowley calls down cosmic dust from one of his nebulae and gets to work on it, making a ring. Once done, he turns to Aziraphale and stutters and mumbles at length, forgetting his planned speech now that it comes time to give it. He eventually finds some sort of words and goes down on one knee, offering the ring. Aziraphale is happy-squeeing and wiggling so hard he can barely put his acceptance into coherent words, but Crowley finally puts the ring on his finger and they proceed to snog each other senseless. After about five or ten minutes, a cork whizzes past their heads, close enough to ruffle their hair, and they look over the parapet to see the Whickber Street Traders breaking out the champagne, evidently having figured out what was going on treating it as something worth celebrating.
The next day, #DameVeraLynn is trending and Berkeley Square is playing host to an impromptu convention of very confused bird-watchers and breathlessly excited BBC reporters. Because the Whickber Street Traders are taking the view that 'if the Bookshop's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'', so the Ineffable Fiances don't find out until mid afternoon, when Mr Arnold drops by with the ornithological gossip and a brochure of upcoming concerts at the Royal Albert Hall. Other engagement presents come in from the Whickber Street Traders over the next day or two -- tiramisu brownies from Mrs Sandwich (her special extra-boozy recipe) for example, and a stack of Steeleye Span records from Maggie (Cam Ye O'er Frae France [one of my audio-stimmy faves], Thomas the Rhymer, The Making of a Man [Pterry's favourites], Gaudete [super appropriate for GO in like 3 different ways], The Dark Morris Song [my top favourite]), who thought Aziraphale might like them even if they're not his usual thing.
A few days later, Saraquel comes to the Bookshop having finally finished cleaning up in what's left of Heaven -- and immediately bounces off the restored wards. Trying not to be visibly intimidated by Aziraphale's obvious annoyance as he opens the doors, she requests entry, but he flatly denies her, icicles dripping from every phoneme. "You are directly complicit in the attempted or actual murder by ego-death of thousands of angels and two instances of attempted omnicide. You stole my memories and tried to squash me out of existence twice; don't you dare try to pretend you were being merciful there. You were perfectly happy to try to murder two of my neighbours who I consider valued friends. Your bridges are burned, Saraquel. You are not welcome here. Leave Earth of your own volition and never return, or Crowley and I will eject you by force." He takes Crowley's hand in preparation for a joint miracle, and Saraquel is alarmed enough to flee immediately (Michael and Dagon, lurking and observing in the background, wisely decide to bugger off to Betelgeuse rather than test the Ineffables' patience further). Aziraphale quietly closes the Bookshop doors and leans shakily on them and Crowley.
Cut to the Ineffable Wedding! It's a handfasting at Tadfield Manor, with the former Sister Mary Loquacious officiating. The occasion is very well-attended -- the Whickber Street Traders, Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell, Anathema and Newt, the Them, the entirety of Aziraphale's old platoon (who adapt the tradition of forming a sabre arch for the newlyweds to walk under), Gabriel and Beelzebub are in attendance, with Muriel as Best Person. The catering is being ably handled by a cheerful guy who seems to produce amazing food and drink out of nowhere, the reception playlist is delightfully varied, and a good time is had by all! The Ineffables take a breather in the Bentley afterwards to let the fact that they did it properly sink in, then hold meaningful eye contact for about five seconds before smooching passionately and driving off to their honeymoon.
At a certain South Downs cottage, on an early summer evening -- there's a garden full of fruit and vegetables and herbs and spices and flowers. Aziraphale brings tea and cakes out to a neat little table on the patio as Crowley finishes intimidating the climbing roses on his mini-observatory and sashays over, pausing to pluck an apple from the tree. They share it as they appreciate their freedom to be truly together, as well as how far they've come since making that nebula...
[Pan up to sunset over picturesque landscape, roll credits]
***
Whoof, that was a bit of a marathon! As I said at the start, I doubt most if any of the events recounted above are going to happen in Season Three, but my brain does tend to run away and do its own thing! For what it's worth, what I think is *likely* to happen in S3 is a combination of elements of The Magic Trick You Didn't See (especially the burning-cinema-screen in the opening sequence as a pointer to memories/data files being corrupted and restored from backup) and @vidavalor's terrifyingly plausible and well-grounded hypothesis that Final-Fifteen!Metatron is actually Satan, Aziraphale has capital-F Fallen and is going to start S3 amnesiac and in Hell. (The Great Balls Of Fire meta dropped when I was partway through writing this post, and on that basis my brain has careened off in an entirely different direction XD) *meep* I guess we'll just have to exspecta videque!
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wordsandrobots · 1 month ago
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You could potentially write an essay comparing and contrasting the designs of the Valkyrja frames?
Totally not asking so I have an easier source to reference than pulling up like five different wiki tabs when I eventually design Geirahöð
Of course not, why would I think that?
Hmm. Let's start at the beginning.
The Valkyrja frame
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The Valkyrja is the machine that lost an arms race to the Gundams. Developed at the same time, during the latter days of the Calamity War, it did not see wide-scale deployment, specifically because the Gundams proved so successful at countering mobile armours. I like to think that in the midst of the genocidal conflict, some mobile suit designer got quite exceptionally angry at Agnika Kaieru over their work being made redundant.
Indeed, this detail suggests a degree of, if not competitiveness among those working to end the War, then at least a proliferation of efforts towards doing so. Why put all your eggs in one basket, when said eggs are the future existence of humanity itself? Whether that represents the input of different manufacturing companies is unclear. We know nothing concrete about the circumstances that gave rise to mobile frames and their predecessors, except that some Gundams feature a symbol also seen on mobile armours – a symbol not present on any other type of 'suit.
The Valkyrja frame mobile suits did see some combat, with Oltlinde notably acting as support to the indestructibly-armoured Gundam Gremory. Their role, however, was not significant and only nine machines of this type were manufactured (this is stated outright in Oltlinde's kit manual, having been suggested very strongly by other sources). Consequently, they fell into obscurity, with few people remaining aware they existed.
Their most important legacy is as a starting template for Gjallarhorn's mainline combat machines, a development lineage that would eventually culminate in the Graze and Reginlaze.
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Where the Gundam frame was based around overwhelming enemies with the sheer power of two Ahab reactors, the Valkyrja uses a single reactor with maximum efficiency. This, its relative simplicity, lightweight structure, and ease of use formed the philosophy Gjallarhorn took forward as they refined the design into an easy-to-maintain, easy-to-mass-produce frame. This stripped a lot of the elegance from the machine. In contrast to the Valkyrja's gently tapering limbs and human-like hands, arms and legs, the Geirail and the Graze are composed of blockier, more mechanical shapes, while the Reginlaze – built with a greater focus on 'suit to 'suit combat – only restores a little of that lost aesthetic with the more refined jointing structure.
The Valkyrja was also designed to be adapted to different forms of weaponry, rather than requiring weaponry adapted to it. This means the different units are each suited for a different form of combat. There is therefore no 'standard' Valkyrja.
Nonetheless, there are commonalities across the line. Among these are weapons made from 'rare metals', same as Gundam Bael's famous swords. Difficult to find and process, these materials provide much higher strength than the 'rare alloys' used in standard frames, armour and weaponry. Given the original target of the project was the mobile armours, it is clear the Valkyrjas were outfitted to overcome their defences. Ironically, that means they are or have the potential to be equally effective against other mobile suits: should somebody wish for a 'Gundam killer', the Valkyrja is a good option.
To take a momentary detour, one question raised by their' contribution to military history is: what did Gjallarhorn use before creating the mobile suit(s) that preceded the Geirail? The Gundams' role is implied to have ended fairly sharply after the War, with the Alaya-Vijnana and other attendant technologies becoming heavily restricted, even erased from popular knowledge. But there must have been some lag between the War's conclusion and the production of a new mainline 'suit, and with only nine Valkyrjas, Gjallarhorn surely had to rely on something else in the meantime.
We have no official answer to this and while it is feasible the Gundams were phased out of use more slowly, in light of there only having been 72 to begin with and an attrition rate somewhere in the region of 50%, I would like to propose an alternative.
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I have mentioned before that the Garm Rodi used by the Dawn Horizon Corps pirates is an odd outlier in that it is named for a piece of Norse mythology but does not (in the present) belong to Gjallarhorn (the other exception, the ship Skidbladnir, can be explained as belonging to somebody interested in their history). I'd also like to draw attention to the torso armour, which features a 'letter-box' detail corresponding surprising well to the Geirail. It also has curved shoulder armour akin to the Grimgerde, which is in turn the obvious inspiration for the Geirail's arm design (the Hexa-frame Enzo has shoulders that are much closer to both, so this part may not mean anything).
Moreover, the Garm is stated to be a versatile machine, matching the Graze line's general-purpose approach, so I don't think it would be incongruous if it were positioned as Gjallarhorn's 'grunt' machine during the War and the start of the Post Disaster era. If nothing else, it's fun to imagine the line essentially evolving from a Zaku into a Leo.
Returning to canon concerns, the Valkyrja frame mobile suits are named after the Valkyries from Richard Wagner's opera Die Walküre, in order of appearance:
Brünnhilde
Gerhilde
Ortlinde
Waltraute
Schwertleite
Helmwige
Siegrune
Grimgerde
Roßweiße
So far, in the Iron-Blooded Orphans anime, spin-off manga and 'Mobile Suit Variations', five of these 'suits have been confirmed extant, or previously existing:
V03-0907 Oltlinde
V04-0630 Waltraute
V06-0526 Helmwige
V07-0126 Sigrún
V08-1228 Grimgerde
(Please note, the official name Oltlinde has an r/l transposition error altering it from Ortlinde; presumably it should be the latter, but I'll continue using the official version to avoid confusion.)
This leaves V01-???? Brünnhilde, V02-???? Gerhilde, V05-???? Schwertleite and V09-???? Roßweiße unaccounted for. Technically only a single Valkyrja frame, Grimgerde, appears in the anime itself, since 'V08Re-0526 Helmwige Reincar' is merely Grimgerde reskinned for disguise purposes – which does nicely demonstrate how the frames can be re-adapted to different sets of equipment as required.
Of the known Valkyrjas, Oltlinde alone is stated to have remained under Gjallarhorn control since the Calamity War. Grimgerde, while associated with them via McGillis, appears to have been in private hands prior to the start of the series, and we don't know anything about the current status of Waltraute, Sigrún or the real Helmwige. As far as I can tell, it is never directly stated if there is interest in the Valkyrjas from collectors as there is in the Gundams, nor whether they too are 'phantom machines', stricken from the official record. However, the statement that not many people know about them suggests the latter may be the case, likely feeding the former.
The Valkyrja frame mobile suits
V03-0907 Oltlinde
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Height: 18.8m Weaponry: Dáinsleif Valkyrja Double Blade, Shield Binder Status: Intact, under Gjallarhorn control
Piloted by Jizil Jizin, an officer in Gjallarhorn's Ollerus internal security unit, Oltlinde is the only Valkyrja still under its original ownership. Just as several Gundams were passed down the family lines of their pilots, Oltlinde has stayed in the Jizins' control up to the present day, as part of their service to the Nadira family, the descendents of Gundam Gremory's pilot.
Formerly equipped to operate a Dáinsleif mass-driver, it was stripped of this ability when Dáinsleifs were banned following the Calamity War. The remains of the firing mechanism were reworked into a pair of swords, one of which has a rare metal blade, that can be combined into a double-bladed staff.
The large antenna on its head and the pronged shields over its left shoulder operate as a detection system to locate distant enemies, with the binder specifically tracking Ahab wave reactions. Despite the switch to close-quarters operation, in Jizil's hands it proves very effective, easily holding its own against Gundam Astaroth and even breaking the Gundam's giant Demolition Knife over the course of the battle. It also weathers a heavy blow to its back, and the fight ultimately ends in Astaroth's favour purely due to Jizil's voluntary surrender (thus providing a view of where the cockpit sits in the 'suit's torso).
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Each Valkyrja mobile suit has a design loosely inspired by a different set of historical armour. Exactly what Oltlinde is going for, I am not sure. The 'feather' on the helm and the half-cape design put me in mind of the Renaissance, and if we consider its original use as a Dáinsleif mount, we're likely looking at an archer of some kind. This, together with the Swiss cross on the shoulder, makes me wonder if William Tell was an influence here.
Regardless, its appearance demonstrates a concern for aesthetics that characterises the Valkyrjas. They are clearly intended to look good, indicating a conscious attempt to build 'heroes' (Sigrún's kit manual goes so far as to state they were developed as "symbols of those who wished to win the Calamity War"). While the Gundams certainly became this, they are not so universally committed to looking the part.
Out of fiction, Oltlinde is the fourth Valkyrja to receive a 1/144 High Grade model kit, as part of the Premium Bandai sub-brand.
V04-0630 Waltraute
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Height: 18.5m Weaponry: Valkyrja Uchigatana, Valkyrja Wakizashi Status: Unknown
In contrast to Oltlinde, Waltraute's inspiration is instantly apparent: a samurai, equipped with a uchigatana and a wakizashi short sword. Both these are rare metal weapons and are/were used in tandem during attacks. The layered construction of the armour helps reduce the mobile suit's weight, thus retaining a high degree of agility along with increased resilience.
One interesting titbit from the official description is that it was designed to escort friendly mobile suits and act as a 'lynchpin' for the battleline. Once again, we have a Valkyrja assigned a supplementary role, with Waltraute providing close-combat support where Oltlinde supplied ranged cover. This raises the possibility all nine served in this capacity, at least briefly, and that there are other linked dynastic relationships like the Jizins and Nadiras. However, it is equally likely this detail merely describes intention, not actuality.
And that's all the information we have on Waltraute. Created for the MSV and featuring only as a collectable fighter in the short-lived Mobile Suit Gundam IRON-BLOODED ORPHANS G game, its exact capabilities and current status are a mystery. So far, it doesn't even have a kit to its name.
V06-0526 Helmwige
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Height: 21.1m Weaponry: Valkyrja Buster Sword, Electric Shock Horn Status: Unknown
The weird thing about Helmwige is that we know what it looks like without it ever having actually appeared. Recreated by the Montag Company in order to disguise the Grimgerde following events at the end of Season 1, the original Helmwige's contribution comes purely in the form of technical data. Nevertheless, in the absence of any reason to believe otherwise, let us assume the Helmwige Reincar is a 1:1 replica of the real deal, excepting perhaps the colours.
Immediately, the biggest distinguishing feature is Helmwige's sheer bulk, not just in terms of the increased armour, but also due to it wielding one of the biggest weapons in the IBO canon. The Buster Sword is so huge, Helmwige comes with a collapsible bracket to allow it to be carried over long distances, new, larger hands (more closely resembling those of a Graze) to accommodate its grip, and extendible 'hooves' to provide extra stability when using it under gravity. Other Valkyrja 'suits seem geared for agile hit-and-run tactics. Helmwige is built to take a stand.
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The Gundams count among their ranks machines fitted for a wide variety of fighting styles; it therefore makes sense their competitors would likewise feature diverse configurations. But this also underscores why the Gundams beat out the Valkyrjas. It is maybe unfair to use Helmwige Reincar's performance during the battle with mobile armour Hashmal as a baseline for comparison: nobody present is ready for Hashaml's speed or power, whereas we would expect pilots contemporary to the War to have been better prepared. Even so, the way Barbatos Lupus takes and uses the Buster Sword, swinging it rapidly, one-handedly, without needing extra thrusters or a bracing stance, shows the overwhelming advantages of a dual-reactor frame.
We later see Helmwige Reincar matching strength with another Gundam in space, so the equation is not unbalanced simply by normal energy output. It is the bursts of power Gundams can generate when they exceed their limiters that allows them to outclass other 'suits, something the Valkyrjas simply aren't capable of.
As a final note, two of Helmwige's features not shown in action are the detachable club forming the lower hilt of the Sword and the electro-shock generated by its horns. These, together with the protective plate that can be raised to cover the 'suit's face, emphasise its status as a front-line fighter. Whatever its disadvantages relative to the Gundam equivalent, it remains a formidably engineered machine and the bruiser of the line.
V07-0126 Sigrún
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Height: 18.4m Weaponry: Valkyrja Rapier, Valkyrja Round Shield Status: Unknown
Sigrún is another product of the MSV, again only appearing as a fighter in the mobile game, although it did receive a mainline 1/144 HG kit. Like Oltlinde, it is stated to have fought in the War, albeit only on a few occasions. Its current whereabouts are not mentioned.
Once more we see a rare-metal primary weapon, here a 'rapier' that can drill through enemy armour (or so the game attack animations imply; the drilling is not stated in the kit manual, although it follows from the design). The rapier is specifically a penetrating weapon, rather than the more common blunt-edged crushing approach to overcoming nano-laminate armour. To aid in stabbing opponents, Sigrún's shield can launch anchor-cables from four cardinal points, entangling a target. The game shows Sigrún hurling its sword at the trapped foe; I assume yanking them closer would also be feasible.
Its design is inspired by knights of the Middle Ages, with the winged helm in particular evoking Germanic origins, which is fitting for the line's operatic naming scheme. It also possesses an increased number of high-output thrusters, adding power to its close-quarters combat style.
One additional detail that intrigues me is the extended rear antenna on the helm. On other Iron-Blooded Orphans mobile suits, such additions usually indicate a unit operated by a squad leader (see for instance the commander variant of the Spinner Rodi). This could mean Sigrún was designated for similar use, either as part of a group of Valkyrjas, or while leading other types of 'suit into battle.
V08-1228 Grimgerde
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Height: 18.5m Weaponry: Valkyrja Blade x2, Valkyrja Shield x2, 110mm rifle Status: Destroyed
So far, we have seen Valkyrjas emphasising long-range bombardment, defence, heavy-duty melee, and close-range attack. Grimgerde (out of fiction, the first Valkyrja to have been designed and the main example of the type) follows Sigrún in being equipped for fast, up-close fighting.
Exactly what we should conclude from its twin swords being so similar to those wielded by Gundam Bael is unclear. They are not completely identical and while we might reasonably suggest McGillis Fareed used Grimgerde in order to copy Agnika Kaieru's fighting style in preparation for taking control of Bael itself, there doesn't need to be any deeper connection at the point of manufacture. It's a decent shape for a sword to be! Still, the closeness of the resemblance stands out, albeit without pointing to any particular explanation for itself.
This aside, Grimgerde displays features common across the different Valkyrjas. In the Urdr Hunt mobile game campaign, its monocular sensor eye is exposed briefly by retracting the main visor and lowering the faceplate, something Grazes can also do to enable more precise targetting. The cockpit appears to be of the standard type used by all Gjallarhorn 'suits. And in addition to the two back-mounted main thrusters (of a type shared with all save Helmwige), smaller jets are located in Grimgerde's heels, granting it extremely high mobility on the ground.
More distinctive are the arm-mounted shields, which house the swords when they are not hand-wielded, and the long-barrelled rifle, which is used precisely once and then abandoned as McGillis dives in to assist Tekkadan during their descent through Earth's atmosphere. The rifle can be stored on the rear 'skirt' when not in use and suggests Grimgerde was intended to operate at mid-range as well as close-to. Taking a cue from descriptions of various Gundams, I imagine this weapon was meant for taking care of pluma swarms ahead of tackling a mobile armour's main body.
The swords can be extended directly from the shields, permitting swift alternation between attack and defence. Indeed, Grimgerde was built for high mobility, taking full advantage of its lightweight frame. This comes with the downside of requiring expert piloting to control the 'suit's centre of gravity: mistakes can lead to attacks without the strength to penetrate enemy armour. Since McGillis is an excellent pilot, we have proof that, used correctly, Grimgerde can overpower a Gundam in a straight fight (even if it must be noted he keeps Gaelio mentally off-balance throughout). Here we see the advantage of rare-metal weaponry, as the swords slice into Kimaris' armour, gouging long cuts and detaching various pieces.
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How precisely the Montag Company came into possession of the Grimgerde is never explained. We do not know if McGillis brought it to them when he made the company his cats-paw, if he sought them out because they already owned it, or if he used them to acquire it. They are the ones who refitted the 'suit as Helmwige Reincar, using historical data McGillis presumably had access to via his position, but this only raises a separate set of questions. From Kimaris' resurrection as Gundam Vidar, we know that Ahab reactor signatures need to be concealed in some manner to prevent identification. Or, rather, we know Vidar's signature was confounded by the addition of a third reactor and can infer this was necessary to scramble its identity. Yet Helmwige Reincar does not sport an extra reactor, meaning it should in theory still register as Grimgerde.
The idea that swapping armour can be sufficient to disguise a mobile suit is already present thanks to the Turbines changing their Hyakurens into Roueis. There, though, we're talking about a mass-produced frame; for the relatively unique Valkyrjas, you wouldn't necessarily expect the same trick to work. Compounding this issue, we don't get a clear idea of how well the trick works in the first place. The Turbines are concerned with avoiding instant recognition, given Hyakurens are distinctly Teiwaz mobile suits. How well the change resists long-term scrutiny is never relevant. Likewise, because McGillis' enemies were aware of his involvement in the Battle of Edmonton from the start of Season 2, there's no sense in which the deceit concerning Grimgerde is actually tested.
For my own part, I like the idea mobile suit signatures are more than purely the Ahab reactor's frequency. Perhaps the half metal used to shield electronics in the frame interferes with the pattern, altering the detectable waves, and so inserting additional plating could be sufficient to scramble the code. Or perhaps that is overthinking things and McGillis simply abused his position further to create a new record in the central database for Helmwige Reincar, hence the V08Re-0526 ID number. Or perhaps both were necessary to sustain the illusion? There's got to be a lot of room to work if very few people remember these 'suits existed in the first place.
Needless to say, as the Valkyrja, Grimgerde has received kits of its original form at both 1/144 and 1/100 scale, and a 1/144 HG rendition of Helmwige Reincar. It is also the only Valkyrja frame 'suit to be confirmed destroyed, suffering fatal damage from Kimaris Vidar in a rematch that left it split in two.
Concluding thoughts
The history of the Valkyrja frame is alluded to via a single, brief panning shot in Episode 22 of the anime. Beyond this, it has no bearing on the plot and Grimgerde's status as a unique rarity is never especially relevant, not even to cast the 'suit in a mysterious light. In spite of this, their backstory adds a pleasing complexity to what we are told about the Calamity War.
The Gundams sit at odds with Gjallarhorn along several axes. They are proof of the hypocrisy of the organisation's public anti-augmentation stance and the social taboo it instigated around the Alaya-Vijnana. Their very names belong to a different mythology than the one whose iconography Gjallarhorn embraces. By contrast, the Valkyrjas – intentionally-created symbols that proved insufficient to the task they were supposed to embody, or at least never got the chance to show whether they were – fit in perfectly, becoming the basis for the means to enforce the post-War order. Whether intended this way or not, the peripheral details nicely compound Gjallarhorn's self-interested motives and performative presentation.
Beyond this, the Valkyrjas are just good designs. A neat unifying theme and a distinctive, elegant aesthetic that has them standing out from other IBO mobile suits. While I do not believe there's any great desire to see designs produced for all 72 Gundams, it would be really cool if we saw the full set of nine Valkyrja frames completed some day.
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mochinomnoms · 10 months ago
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I’m not sure but I thought I might as well ask
is Yev based on Yzma from Emperors New Groove? Some of the reasons I thought this was due to his hairstyle (high ponytail) looking similar to one of Yzmas hairstyles where her black hair is pointed out or represents the lavender feather(?)/accessory , the purple makeup suiting her equally purple color scheme, and the mention of the “secret” lab which is like Yzmas lab in the palace. Also (this might be wrong) I think Quispe (his last name) is Quechua which is a language spoken in different South American countries such as Peru (which Emperors New Groove is based/set in).
Even if not I think Pomefiore is a great dorm for Yzma since she has been known to be stylish in the movie changing into several different outfits + the original concept of the movie was going to make her hate the sun since she blames it on making her age faster (snuff out the light was going to be her villains solo I recommend searching it on YouTube)
sorry for the rant I just really love Emperors New Groove, one of my favorite Disney movies
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YES HE IS THANK YOU FOR NOTICE THE USE OF QUECHUA I STUDIED INCA FOR A CLASS AND WANTED TO REFERENCE THEM AND CORRECT!!! YZMA FITS BEAUTIFULLY IN POMEFIORE!!!!!
WAAHAHAHAHAHA I WILL ADD HIS FUN FACTS BELOW AS A REWARD!!!
Yev Quispe
“The new Housewarden of Pomefiore. A remarkably beautiful young man with skills rivaling the most experienced apothecaries. He demands attention and respect from all due to his status as a young heir, lest you become an unwilling subject in his experiments.”
Birthday: December 24th (Capricorn)
Age: 20
Height: 180 cm
Dominant Hand: Right
Homeland: Kusco Mountains
Family: Unnamed younger brother
Other Names(s): Bluebottle (Floyd)
Grade: Junior
Class: C (No. 18)
Club: Science Club
Best Subject: Potions
Hobbies: Experiments
Pet Peeves: Mislabeling
Favorite Food: Ceviche
Least Favorite Food: Spinach Empanadas
Talent: Transformation spells
Appearance
Yev is a tall, lean man with tanned skin and dark brown eyes. He has dark purple layered hair that goes below his shoulders, with long side swept bangs framing his face. His usual hairstyle has him wearing his hair in a French braid, with his bangs and two pieces of hair curled below his chin. His hair is tied with a thick blue hair tie. 
He wears blue, turquoise earrings and is always seen wearing purple eyeshadow, dark eyeliner, and wine colored lipstick. He is often wearing a polite smile and critical gaze.
Personality
Yev is a confident, haughty young man who is self-assured in his looks and skills. He is well known to dislike being questioned by his underclassmen, holding very few in either equal standing or high-regards. Because of this, he is quick to point out others’ flaws when others point out his own shortcomings, known to be overly harsh when doing so. Over the years, this has made him overly critical of others to the point that he is condescending to most, especially to those that aren’t of his same social status.
Despite this, he is renowned for his skills as an upcoming potionologist, sought out by both cosmetic and pharmaceutical scientists for his unique skills in transformation potions and spells. Surprisingly, when compared to his predecessor, Yev has no issue getting dirty and cluttered when experimenting in his makeshift laboratory and enjoys making new discoveries, sharing them with others. He also has no qualms in involving others in his tests, allowing other students to take his potions and note down their reactions rather than testing them himself.
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