#the fact he gives her a motive to killing gertrude also cleans him for her because he says as a statement

[just-an-enby-lemon]

I think a lot about how badly the "I lied on my CV" scene would go with Archivist Sasha. A LOT. Now this is based on some things:

a) The paranoia

• A lot of Archivist Sasha AUs act as if she would be imune to the paranoia arc and here is why I disagree:

1. By being the Archivist and feeding the eye you are automatically dealing with an extended feeling of being watched all the time. Not to mention the Eye is literally a paranoia entity (between it's other areas).

2. While Sasha doesn't appear to have Jon's trust issues she has a need to know at least equal to him and a tendency of theorizing. She was of course right when assuming Gertrude kept the archieves messy on purpose but that also shows that between being very smart she is very doubtifull of any behavior outside the person's normal.

3. In that same conversation ahe mentions how everyone has a mask and says to Tim, likely her best friend, that he is as honest to her as he is to Jon it is just different masks. She is fine with this. She is okay with the masks. But that is before things go wrong.

4. She KNEW Gertrude. That means solving her murder is more personal.

b) Sasha knows her shit way to well

• This one is the real fascinsting thing: Sasha is a master in figuring out people's secrets and keeping them for herself. She knew from the start Jon lied about his age and that Martin lied on his CV. To the point that for her this knowledge about Martin is a fun fact and irrelevant, a thing she keeps from because she knows he would be anxious if he knew she knows. The thing is that translating to the "I lied in my CV confession" we have:

• Paranoid Sasha found Martin's letter to his mother (likely writen as a diary with no intencion to actually send it) and thinks that Martin lied about Trevor being dead.

• She knows Martin lied on his CV and it's meaningless to her to the point she might suspect he knows she knows.

• She knows Martin has a complicated relationship with his mother and that means she would assume it to be very unlikely he would ever write this personal of a letter to her.

Conclusion:

Sasha would probably think Martin is using the fsct he lied on his CV as a diversion and truly has an awfull secret. She would also likely tell to his face she knows it isn't it because Martin's mum would never read or care about his feelings or letters and Martin should know this enough to not even bother to write "so this is likely a codename".

[wisteria-lodge]

Character Analysis: Sorting Hamlet & Horatio

using the @sortinghatchats system

PRIMARY = MOTIVE. WHY DO YOU DO THINGS?

LION Primary’s sense of morality and ethics comes from inside. Things just feel right or they feel wrong. BIRD Primary gets their morality and ethics from the world outside them. They decide what they think is right. BADGER Primary is focused on the good of the group. Who cares if something is technically “moral” if people are getting hurt? SNAKE Primary is a lot like Badger, but instead of protecting the group, their highest law is the well-being of the individual people they love.

SECONDARY =  METHOD. HOW DO YOU DO THINGS?

LION Secondary gets their power from being direct, honest, completely themselves. Their “plan” is just keep going until someone stops them. If they see a locked door, they kick it in. BIRD Secondary collects tools and skills. They build things, find things, learn things. If they see a locked door, they go through their box of keys until they find the right one. BADGER Secondary is fair, hardworking, and shows up. They’re good at getting people to trust them, and good at getting people to help them. If they see a locked door, they knock. SNAKE Secondary knows the right mask to wear for each situation. They’re adaptive. They go in the back way. They find the third option.  They’re the ones who know how to pick the locks.

HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK has one heck of a Bird primary. He’s a philosophy student who “consider[s] too curiously,” thinking over the morality of his actions while playing thought-experiment games with Horatio. He knows his uncle is guilty, he suspects it from the beginning, but he can’t act on that gut feeling until he has some real proper outside evidence. He gets a bad feeling about the duel, but dismisses it as “foolery… such a kind of gain-giving as would perhaps trouble a woman.” Then decides that he can’t allow himself to suspect a trap behind every corner, and goes in to fight.

This is why sticking him in Elsinore Castle is such a good dramatic set-up.  Everyone there is basically gaslighting him - treating the fact that his uncle married his mother and became the new king (instead of Hamlet, the old king’s son) as  totally and completely normal. To stay sane, he needs Horatio standing there reaffirming his version of reality - yes, you’re right, the funeral and the wedding were weirdly close together. I believe you.

The other thing that makes me think Bird primary is the way Hamlet’s worldview changes. At first he’s lost, tortured by indecision (a very Bird primary problem). But then he talks to the Norwegian soldier and has the epiphany that people kill “even for an eggshell” [read: “for one corn chip”] all the time. He says “from this time forth / my thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth” and then they are. From then on, Hamlet’s the perfect Revenge Protagonist. Kills Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, zero guilt, doesn’t back down from the duel, stabs and poisons Claudius. In the last act he looks really Lion, because he’s adopted a more Lion-flavored personal philosophy.

Hamlet definitely models Snake secondary. But he’s very bad at it and fools no one. A short rundown of the critiques of Hamlet’s acting:

POLONIUS ~ “though this be madness/yet there is method in it” CLAUDIUS ~ “what he spoke, though it lacked form a little/ was not like madness” HORATIO ~ “these are but wild and whirling words my lord.”

(Arguably Hamlet fools Ophelia. Arguably.)

There’s also the Bird secondary model he uses to stage the elaborate psychological trap that is the play-within-a play, and forge the letter that kills Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Good penmanship, knowledge of plays, just some of the tools in Hamlet’s toolbox.

But, neither of those methods seem to be especially healthy for him. Hamlet is most comfortable, and most powerful, when he can just stare someone down and say the true thing. “I know not ‘seems’” is pretty much the first thing we hear him say. Again, it’s kind of cruel that this character is stuck in Elsinore, forced to wear so many alternate models.

So, when Hamlet is stressed he gets abrupt and he gets direct. He does that on/off thing which is very Lion secondary. (Do nothing… do nothing... do a bunch of stuff, all at once.) That climatic sword fight at the end is pure charging lion. He seemed to get along well with the pirates? And since Shakespeare is a writer who finds lion secondaries particularly tragic, it makes sense he’d give one to his most iconic tragic hero.

This also means Hamlet house-matches Ophelia, which is ultimately why I think they don’t work. They’re too alike. I’m not going to speculate much on which sortings are compatible with each other (hell if I know) but I will say this: being in a romantic relationship with your exact match is probably a bad idea. You are just going to double down on the weaknesses and have trouble coming up with alternate solutions when things go wrong.

Also, the way the Closet scene plays out makes me think that Gertrude and Hamlet both have to be Lion secondaries. Gertrude starts off using her snake secondary model, trying to deflect and maneuver around her son, but he uses that Lion to just be threateningly honest until she starts giving him real answers. Basically they scream true things at each other until they both calm down. Lion secondaries… are comforted by cathartic fights, in a way that I don’t think the other secondaries are. For Gertrude and Hamlet, it’s actually a wholesome bonding experience.

HORATIO is a really clean example of a Snake primary, and I love that for him. The only reason he does anything is because of Hamlet. That’s only thing in his life that matters, or possibly even exists. (“I do not know from what part of the world / I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.”) When Hamlet asks him why he’s come to Elsinore, the place so terrible it will drive you to alcoholism, Horatio says, “I came to see your father’s funeral.” I came because I thought you needed me. That’s it. Horatio stays in an incredibly dangerous and precarious situation because he doesn’t want Hamlet to be alone. He kind of needs to be a Snake primary, he doesn’t make sense otherwise.

As for secondary - Badger. He’s a badger. Horatio is the kind of solid, dependable guy who you call if you’re having ghost problems. And even though the guards think he has special ghost-busting knowledge (being a graduate of Wittenberg and all) that’s not how Horatio handles the situation. He talks to the ghost, he wants to know where it is coming from. Wants to know how he can help.

Horatio, possibly uniquely (since everybody else is a snake or lion secondary) has a really good grasp on the interpersonal dynamics of both the court and Denmark as a whole. When he needs to make Gertrude listen to him - make her take the Ophelia problem seriously - he talks about how her ravings are going to sew social unrest, that people are going to listen to her and hear what they want to hear. And at the end, he completely takes the reins from Fortinbras. Get me up on a stage, let me talk to the people, I know exactly hoe to calm them all down. Horatio’s got the courtier secondary.

He’s got such a correct and such an elegant mask (“custom hath made it in him a habit of easiness”) that I do think there’s a strict Badger performance in there as well. But nothing underneath it except more Badger. I don’t see him use the skills of any other secondary, and it’s Badger that he falls back on when he’s under pressure.

Horatio grounds Hamlet with his combination of solid Snake primary and solid Badger secondary. The prince is so much more stable and leveled out when he’s in a room with Horatio. It’s also very funny that Snake Badger has been identified as the love interest sorting, and like - well - I see it. 

tl;dr

Hamlet - Bird primary / Lion secondary, unhealthy Snake and Bird models

Horatio - Snake primary / Badger secondary, Badger performance

[ncfan-1]

ncfan listens to The Magnus Archives: S2 EP041, ‘Too Deep’

- The title has at least two meanings that I can determine. The first, most obvious one, is that Jonathan Sims delved rather too deep into the tunnels that run under the Magnus Institute for his own good, and only got out because of good fortune. The second is that Jonathan Sims is going rather too deep into the dark spots inside his own head.

I knew paranoia was going to be a big theme this season. Part of that is me being spoiled, and part of it is just being able to extrapolate future directions from what happened in the Season 1 finale. Sasha was replaced by Not-Sasha, and the Not-Them are associated with paranoia. Two, Gertrude Robinson was found shot to death in the tunnels. Finding out your predecessor was murdered and your boss didn’t deign to tell you so would, I think, put anyone on edge.

But Jon’s already on a bad trajectory here. He suspects everyone around him without stopping to think critically about things like means, motive, and opportunity. Gun control in the U.K. is strict enough that it would be hard to get a gun, and Jon doesn’t think about who has the resources to obtain a gun legally (And who has the resources to obtain a gun illegally). He doesn’t speculate on each “suspect’s” possible motives for shooting Gertrude dead. He doesn’t think about who would and would not have had the access to her required to kill her. He doesn’t consider that Gertrude’s killer might have been someone outside of the Institute. He’s just locked in a mindset of “I’ve got to figure out which one of these people killed Gertrude before they kill me, too.” He’s trapped in a paranoid panic, and it’s already clouding his judgment—the fact that he didn’t take anyone down into the tunnels with him or let anyone know where he was going to be being a prime example.

Anyways, let’s get on with the show.

No spoilers, please!

- Jonathan’s voice sounds hoarse compared to his S1 self. I can’t decide if he’s been talking into a tape recorder more than what’s good for him, if he’s dehydrated, or whatever.

- The fact that he can’t keep on track at first is another sign of his being in a bad place mentally right now.

- Martin continues to be a sweetie who does not deserve this shit.

- “Is he hiding something?” No, Jon, Martin just doesn’t want you to drop dead.

- He still feels like he’s being watched, even after Jane Prentiss and the worms are dead. “I’d think it was some aspect of the recorder itself.” Interesting.

- Seriously, going into the tunnels without taking someone with you, or even letting anyone know where you are, that would be incredibly dangerous even if there was no supernatural stuff going on. The tunnels are a maze, and as far as you know, the only way in and out is through that trapdoor, Jon. It’s not safe to go down there without anyone’s knowledge.

- “Every time I walked between the shelves, I swear I would see movement out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned, there was nothing.” I wonder if Not-Sasha goes home to Sasha’s place after work. I wonder if it’s something else.

- Not-Sasha marked the trapdoor? That’s interesting.

- Nice to know Elias (or possibly the ECDC) sprang to have the tunnels cleared of worm carcasses. But they didn’t clear out all of the carcasses.

- Jon getting lost very quickly is one of the mundane dangers of the tunnels—and I know I keep harping on this, but it’s one of the reasons he should not have gone down there by himself.

- The tunnels vary wildly in construction, though they’re all made from the same sort of gray stone. It feels like it was intended to be used, but was somehow twisted into a maze. There are rooms without doors, and doors without rooms (I’m reminded of the Winchester mansion, and I can’t help but wonder if these tunnels were constructed for a similar purpose).

- It is worth wondering just who stuffed all those cassette tapes in the room where Gertrude was found.

- The fact that the cleaning crew stopped clearing up worm carcasses in a clearly visible line. You’d think that the worms, even dead, would be considered a biohazard, and that they’d want to make sure they were gotten rid of in case some of them survived the “queen’s” death. It brings to mind a boundary line (boundary line of what, exactly?), and it certainly feels like Jon’s stepping into greater danger when he crosses it.

- And once Jon crosses that boundary line, the air is colder, and the light from his torch doesn’t carry as far. Which reminds me painfully of ‘A Father’s Love’ and ‘Growing Dark’—and makes me wish he’d just leave, so it made me a little happy when Jon chose sense over curiosity and turned around.

- There’s a burned door, and a warped corridor.

- The circle of worms Tim described is still clearly visible. What’s concerning is what’s in the circle. The circle was ten feet in diameter, and the stone within has… changed. It’s grown wavy, and porous, and soft. I can only assume the worms were trying to rip open a hole in the veil, or something, so something on the other side could come through.

- We’re seeing evidence for the presence of a lot of previously mentioned entities down in these tunnels, aren’t we?

- That other path through the worms was probably Tim, spraying them all down with carbon dioxide.

- Jon, not taking any chances would have meant coordinating with a team—having a radio and a GPS, maybe having yourself hooked up to a cable on a belt so you would certainly know your way back, or so someone would be able to follow the path down to you if you fell unconscious or something like that.

- I will admit that marking intersections with chalk arrows wasn’t a bad idea.

- The info about Millbank and Robert Smirke’s construction of it are interesting. The Panopticon (first proposed by Bentham for this place) by itself hearkens back to Jon’s persistent feelings of being watched, the open eye symbolism associated with Gerard Keay, “better beholding.” The fact that the original project had difficulty retaining architects until Smirke was brought on is, I suspect, something to watch out for. Between Smirke’s bizarre, maze-like construction of the prison, and what I suspect to be true of the tunnels beneath (which were likely not officially connected to the prison) makes me think that he was running some weird, sadistic supernatural experiment on prisoners. Which, seriously man? Not cool.

- The tunnels are also giving me serious House of Leaves vibes, especially with the spiral staircases leading down.

- I do wonder who drew the chalk arrow leading down a down-stairwell. There’s evidence that there has been recent human occupation in the tunnels, excluding Gertrude Robinson’s corpse—those wine bottles (one dating to 2003, so they’re not relics of the construction), and the packet of Mint Imperials Martin saw. It’s possible Gertrude drew it herself. It’s possible that one of the other humans who’s been down here drew it. It doesn’t have to have been drawn by any supernatural entity. Not necessarily.

- Jon only goes down the staircase (at least, I get the impression that was the reason) because he thought he heard someone walking through the tunnels behind him. And then he stepped off the staircase into a lower floor when he saw movement in the darkness. The differences in construction is more pronounced the further down he’s going, which makes me a bit itchy

- “I looked up to see the turning in front of me was no longer there. Instead, there was simply a dead end.” ‘Lost John’s Cave’ has come back to us, I see.

- “Leave.” Human in origin or supernatural? Warning or command or entreaty? Benevolent in meaning or malevolent? Who knows? Not me, at this point.

- These supplemental messages that I assume I’m going to be hearing more from do not give me a good feeling. Not least because Jon admitting that he’s playing up his interest in the tunnels introduces the element of unreliable narrator to the mix, and I’m left to wonder how much of that statement I can even trust.

- “Trust can get you killed.” And refusing to trust can get you killed just as surely.