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[somnesca]

Alright. So this episode was great, but in terms of themes & setting the stage for the rest of the story, this line really stands out:

"You feel something. You look, the Night Yorb twinkling. You've spent your whole summer chasing this. You know all the things you've missed. Your whole summer vacation, all of your friends. Some of you had birthdays on the road this adventure, and yeah, there's lots of adventure, but all of you feel a tiredness in your bones knowing that the reward for saving the world yet again will be going back to school and having another year of working just this hard forever."

This monologue from Brennan is the most thematically/foreshadowy thing we get in the episode, and it does set quite the stage. This is a story about exhaustion and the price of adventure. It's a story about what the hells these six people are going to do with the rest of their lives.

Fig releases something at the end of the episode. Some piece of magic that will certainly mean something later. This is how it's described:

"You've been holding onto a piece of magic for a long time... If you take me, you know what you would save. And you smell something sour and curdled."

"There is a flash of light, a kind of lemony yellow creamy light that flashes out over the hangvan."

Pay attention to that word choice. The magic is "sour" and "curdled" and "lemony yellow creamy." Is it reminiscent of anything?

Gilear's connection with yogurt is established pretty early on in Fantasy High, and yogurt in general serves as a symbol for everything that Gilear is. A sad, pathetic adult and A Normal Guy. Brennan is very insistent when reading out Gilear's stats for the first time that he's just a guy! Some people have to be normal!

But our Bad Kids aren't normal. That's the whole point of them. They've saved the world. Falling to Gilear's level is terrifying. It's literally Fabian's nightmare.

From that part of Pirate Brawl:

"You hear a voice behind you" [Gilear!Fabian] "say: 'It's all going to be all right... I know it seems very far off, but there is a way for you to be happy.'"

And of course, the yogurt, the symbol of mediocrity, is here too. "The yogurt curdles in your stomach." Curdles. The same word used to describe the magic coming out of Fig. The yogurt that Fig gives to Fabian while he's having his breakdown in Leviathan is lemon flavored too.

Of course the primary conflict seen in the trailer is about difficulty graduating. That's a normal problem. That's a normal concern for normal people.

The fear of mediocrity can be strong. Especially for people as exceptional as the Bad Kids. But the fear that you'd be happier taking the easier path, that the road less traveled isn't inherently better, that your hardship is for nothing... that's even worse.

The reasonable thing for Fig to be releasing would be the red growth seen on the minis in the trailer. But no. She releases something lemony and creamy and sour and curdled.

[somnesca]

Singing a new year's song with 爱妃/Ai Fei ("Beloved concubine", a term of address Chinese emperors used for their favorite concubines/consorts)

English added by me :)

[somnesca]

some fantasy high suggestions from over on instagram to celebrate the new trailer!!

🏈 kofi link in bio if you’re feeling generous 🏈

[somnesca]

[somnesca]

im so tired of being nice. entering my villain era *sends an email with only one exclamation point*

[somnesca]

I think about this line maybe once a week. Absolutely iconic line. I love it too much.

[somnesca]

[somnesca]

My nayme is bird And wen it's Yule And Swedish snow Lies cold and cruel I look for seeds With many friends But food is scarce Where flock descends

But then we hear Of ancient rite We leave the trees We all take flight If fire not Its end promote? We do the deed. We eat the goat.

[somnesca]

God what is going on over there with Bell's Hells. I am so woefully behind that spoilers mean almost nothing 😭

[somnesca]

Establishing shot :))))

[somnesca]

I feel like those of us who are longtime Video Essay Enjoyers™ have been aware something was suss about James Summerton (I remember when Lawrence called out Summerton for stealing their Hannibal essay years ago) for a while. But I think it's cynical to reduce Hbomberguy's vid to just a "dunk" when it's more of an odyssey railing against how influencer and content culture devalues the work of culture critics, academics, and activists. As Harris said, it's not a problem exclusive to Summerton, but a corrosive attitude baked into late capitalist "content" culture. The video is a clear exploration of the consequences of all media and art being flattened into "content" creates a system where the labor of marginalised creatives and storytellers are exploited and stolen by people with more privileges and resources. As someone who has witnessed rich tiktokers quote articles and posts I've written verbatim without credit to make money from their 1000s of followers, this video hit super hard for me. From James Summerton claiming the works of dead gay activists, to Charli D'Amelio building a career from stealing dances created by Black tiktokers - plagiarism is often inseparable from discrimination and exploitation of labor rights. Harris' video is about how the nature of influencer content culture has further exacerbated the exploitative systems that already existed, wrapped up as YouTuber drama analysis. But I hope people don't miss the forest for the trees and remember you should always be citing your sources, fact checking, and be very wary of people who don't. And for the love of God, please stop getting your information exclusively from video essays, tiktoks and podcasts.

[somnesca]

Both Harkers go "Why should not I imitate him?" when they're pushed to their limit and I think it's metal of them.

Jonathan says that it's impossible, there is no way for him to reach Dracula's chambers, no escape for him. And goes "Yes, there is a way, if one dares to take it. Where his body has gone why may not another body go? I have seen him myself crawl from his window. Why should not I imitate him, and go in by his window? The chances are desperate, but my need is more desperate still." And he hasn't stopped climbing in and out of windows since.

Mina is told by Dracula that now that she has his blood, her mind belongs to him, that he will always know where she is and he will be able to hear her. His mind is bound to hers, no escape from him.

And after rising from the first despair she says okay. Why should not I imitate him? And invades his mind in his sleep. Becomes him, in his coffin, in his dirt, in his death-sleep. And she didn't stop doing so until she could follow his tracks to the ends of the earth if needed. No escape from her.

And it's their imitation of the Vampire that makes them both advance, save themselves, and each other.

[somnesca]

i adore your bad end series! with the most recent post, i have to wonder what little quincey considers dracula to be. his weird uncle? his parents' "friend?" a spooky roommate?

Ah yes, the vampire lord in the corner.

I’m going to tag @unchartedentity for this as they asked a very similar question!

So, @animate-mush who’s wonderful writing keeps inspiring this series to new heights has had Quincey call him “Father” in parallel to Jonathan’s ‘Papa’ and yeah I can definitely see Dracula pressing for that title, both by his ‘right’ as the reason the child is a vampire in the first place “He owes what he is as much to myself as to who’s blood he shares. And doesn’t some of mine run through him now as well?”

And also just because he knows it’s a knife in Jonmina’s hearts to hear Quincey call him that

How the relationship actually pans out? I think that in actually it’s much more of a creepy weird uncle situation, mixed with a lot of Palpatine corruption attempts. Dracula finds Quincey’s whole existence deeply interesting, seeing the Harkers attempts at domesticity is incredibly bizarre to him and also humorous—I think he really feels at some moment Quincey will twist into proper Vampire mode and break his dear papa’s heart doing so, and robbed of his chance to take over England he’ll take his kicks where he can get them.

Also going to take this opportunity to post the Dracula and Quincey interaction I just drew

[somnesca]

Gluten free buscuits

[somnesca]

[somnesca]

@ibrithir-was-here this is probably not your vision but I made myself cry this morning so....

"Stay up with me this morning..."

It wasn't an odd request. Papa slept at strange times, and was frequently out late on business. Sometimes they had gone out together and secret adventures when he had been a child. He had been listless all night, and it wasn't even a meal date. Perhaps he had something planned.

So when they had all gone to bed he stole back up to the library where Papa liked to do his paperwork, and there he was with a cup of something brownish and gross. Papa drank strange things too. He'd tasted them once or twice for fun and they were always horrible. He looked up and smiled when he came in.

"You're a good boy," he said. "Don't ever, ever, let anyone tell you otherwise."

"You tell me this all the time, and Mum doesn't speak. Who would tell me otherwise?"

Papa smiled again, and that was worrying. Papa only smiled this much when he was sad. "Do you know what day it is?"

"It is May the 5th."

He nodded. Papa was fond of dates and numbers. "St. George's Day. And... your birthday. You are 21 years old today. You have grown into a Man."

"Oh!" He wasn't sure what else to say. He had certainly grown - he was bigger than Papa now, and nearly as big as Father.

"A good man," Papa said, holding him with his strange blue eyes, as if he were listening to his insides the way Mum did. "A good. Man."

He laughed a little nervously. "I know, Papa, you tell me all the time."

"Other people might tell you something different. But we know better, don't we?"

This was all stranger and stranger, even for Papa. "What other people?"

"You've grown up. You deserve a life of your own. It's time for you to leave the Castle."

"On... on one of our secret adventures, you mean?"

Papa looked at him and smiled. "No. This time for good." He stood suddenly and started moving about. "I've, I've packed up everything I could think of. Clothes, maps, money, letters of introduction. And I think. I think today, you might just be able to get away. If you stay up all day, and just keep walking. And if he does come after you, remember, you don't belong to him. Or, or to us. Just to yourself."

Papa meant Father of course, but hated when he called him that. It seemed a silly thing to be so agitated about - Father rarely went out. That was Papa's job. Instead of arguing he looked at the envelopes he'd been handed. He thought he knew all the words, but these two were new.

"What words are these? Kwee-?"

Papa stopped. "That's your name. A man ought to have a name. They say 'Quincey Harker.' See? This one used to be mine. I gave it to your mother when we were wed. And now we've decided to give it to you."

"Thank you Papa. I'll take good care of it."

"I know. I know you will." He placed them into the large valise he had packed up. "Come on, let's get you on your way."

"I still don't understand why I have to go," he said as they descended the long stair towards the door.

"Because it's time," Papa said softly. "I brought you here to keep you safe, to give you a chance at life. Someday you'll understand and ... maybe you'll even forgive me. But this - this is no kind of life. I've done - your mother and I have done everything we can for you. You're ready to make your own way. There's a whole wide world for you to explore. You cannot stay here forever."

They reached the door and it opened to his touch, as it always had. Papa paused on the threshold. "You'll need to be careful. The people out there... they're not like you and Mum. They're much more fragile - daytime people. Be gentle with them. And wear your hat. If they see you're not daytime people they'll be afraid, and when they get afraid they can be dangerous. Especially nearby. The farther you go, the safer you will be."

"I will, Papa." He was only half listening. Daytime people! Think of it, a whole world full of Papas. That would be something to see indeed!

Papa put his hands on his shoulders and looked at him seriously. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never found you a solution to the feeding problem. Wait as long as you can, but, but, but do what you must. Take only what you need. Try not to kill any of them. For God's sake don't leave behind a trail of bodies. Oh God I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Oh God..."

Killing? Bodies? He looked at Papa in horror, all white and trembling, far more so than the occasional other Daytime People he saw through the windows. And all those special treats he'd brought home from his trips - it had been such fun to stick them in his mouth and spit them out again - yucky yucky yucky! "Papa... you always said it didn't hurt you, at mealtimes. You always said..."

Papa put out his arms and folded him to his breast. "Oh sweetheart...you never hurt me, because I love you. Because I really wanted you to have everything I have to give. But as much as I wish I could, I can't take care of you forever."

After a long while they broke the embrace. "Go," Papa said. "Get as far from this place as you can. Just whatever happens remember that you're a good man. And that your parents loved you."

"I will, Papa," he said. "I promise."

***

Jonathan stood in the doorway and watched him go. Had he done right by him? Had he done right by any of this? It was far far too late for those sorts of questions.

The midmorning May sunshine felt good. Bees hummed in the first roses of somewhere. New life springing up all around. Everywhere but here.

He broke off one of the flowers and went back inside, making his way down the well worn path to the crypts. He placed the wild rose on the lid of the largest tomb, next to his letter of resignation.

A little farther on he found his own place, climbed in beside Mina, fast asleep of course. But it was very nearly noon, when she might just be able to hear him.

"He's gone," he told her. She said nothing. She'd said nothing for twenty one and a half years. "It was the best I could do. And..." he breathed out "I think I'm ready to go too. I'm sorry. I know you didn't want this."

A gentle pressure on his mind. Images of their beautiful baby boy, sharp teeth, red eyes and all. For him, it had all been worth it.

He opened her wrist and drank.