#victims who aren't just sympathetic little innocent fawns - their suffering has fundamentally altered them

[miqojak]

Not me eyeing Jak cutting a swath through the remains of Garlemald's people for this exact reason; she calls it anger, vengeance, justice... but it's pain. It's a scream of agony that rebounds off the icy plains of Garlemald right back at her - no amount of fear instilled, no amount of blood, no amount of fury can bring back the dead. What's lost is lost. The relief of vengeance is brief, a bitter pill; an eye for an eye, but you'll never get that vision back... no matter how many more you remove. She knows she has become like those who destroyed all those she loved - she does enjoy the control - the control they took from her for so long. They claimed that 'might made right,' and so she clutches this phrase to her chest as tightly as the memories of her family. Now she has the might, and so doesn't that grant her the right to exact a price for her pain? For the pain of the lives Garlemald stole?

The gunfire wracks her dreams, the artillery startles her awake - years after she has escaped the genocide of her people. The pain strikes when she least expects it... so she does, too. She strikes back, an animal blind with fury in its pain and fear - it's the only thing she knows to do: flash her fangs, and lash out.

I watched an excellent synopsis of The Babadook (by Horror History, on Youtube) recently, and it made me think of Jak - how she, like the mother in the movie, won't face her grief - so it continues to consume her. It manifests for Jak, however, in her Dark Knight powers as her Fray... as a twisted version of a thing meant to bring justice... but what does justice look like to someone stuck in the grief loop, never making it to acceptance? There is only pain, bargaining, denial, anger - all folding in on themselves time and again, festering as any untreated wound does.

She is alone, rooted so deep in her pain that the world around her has become a twisted, warped reflection of her own pain. What else can she be, when she can't see an end to the pain/grief?

there's this specific kind of "bad"/unsympathetic victim narrative that i'm obsessed with when it's executed well, where someone's trauma response is to become increasingly destructive and selfish, at first in the hope that there will be consequences - that someone will follow the broken, bloody trail they're leaving behind them and try to stop them - because that will mean that they've been seen. that someone has finally noticed them, acknowledged their pain, and done something about it. but then, when those consequences never arrive, or are too easily brushed aside, they realise that they're enjoying being in control (or the illusion of control) for once far too much to stop, and start to buy into this delusion they've begun to construct for themselves, where what they're doing is Justified, Actually, because of what they've endured to reach this point. they've long since crossed sunk cost fallacy event horizon. to look back now would be unbearable. which is, of course, when the consequences they cannot so easily ignore arrive, and they're forced to reckon with the fact that they've mistaken the grave they've been digging for a great and gleaming tower, the crumbling walls of which are now starting to collapse inwards on them. it's such an inevitable but compelling tragic route to go down.