#IT WOULDNT BE A DARK FORM like cynic's

[timewontwait]

if i were to pick a song that just summarizes my sonic, it’s this one kfgjskd.

[infini-tree]

its that time of year again where i talk abt the new tpod season (s1 here). its gonna be divided into parts bc i have Many Thoughts about it. spoilers for... everything

pros:

the whole conflict this season was interesting. while the first season was pretty straightforward, this season goes for what is essentially a government conspiracy plot involving supernatural elements

i like the approach with how they divided the two plots. while po and the kids are trying to figure out the resource shortage, team b consists of the secondary characters trying to figure out where the wellspring of qi is, and later on both their paths converge. honestly i wouldnt mind if this arc had a few more episodes to flesh out

jade tusk is honestly the mvp of the season. i just. really love her mentor-student relationship with xiao and the arm outstretched parallel between their first meeting and when xiao is at her lowest point made me SAD. i honestly wish that they followed that thread with jade talking to shi long and trying to convince her that the white bone demon is only using her bc while she IMPLIES it she never does it

jing continues to be the best kid. im biased, but i like that her archetype isn’t as clear cut as the other three. it seems she just has a bad, unintentional habit of healing ‘antagonists’ and i like that mini-arc she goes through about it

the other kids get to do things !! last season, it was more about setting up powers and jing took the spotlight due to the whole “being possessed by jindiao” thing, but here it’s more equal?? remember how back then i joked/theorized about this season being a fan tong development season-- in a way this season is, in the sense that he grows close to a central character, but its not as grossly imbalanced as last season and the others have their time to shine

there’s more little.... subgroups?? between the kids??? i mean, bao and nu hai are siblings, obvs, but they’re kinda explorin the relationships between each pair. from tryhard but nice inside/nice guy dynamic between bao and fan tong, to investigating duo/taking the proverbial potshot towards bao’s ego club between nu hai and jing they actually feel like friends, honorable mention goes to that one bit in which jing is abt to beat someone up, po in slo-mo shouts “no” while bao is the Worst Enabler and shouts (also in slo-mo) “yes!!”

cons:

does bao being a disruptive force between xiao and fan tong hanging out and growing closer count as a love triangle if bao is just doing it to get praise and admiration?? idk, but the fact that it Implies A Love Triangle made me irritated-- admittedly they never went through with it But Still

the anachronistic colloquialisms are still here, as is the toilet humor. you just have to bear it

I Am Tired Of Ping And Cart

in fact, im tired of the one-note gags that have become the secondary characters’ personalities. yes, li shan, i Know your son is the dragon warrior master, why yes grandma panda i know you’re old as tar and your bones ache! maybe its the cynical adult in me talking but.... yeah

why was that rooster and pigs in this. i just did not like them

i was kinda mad that zhizhu was benched for this entire plot

personal anecdotes:

tpod, i feel, has a giant tone problem and its much more obvious this season. with the fact that the Main Conflict is essentially killing the emperor/overthrowing the heir, it gets dark. like, for instance, xiao-- a 15 year old girl-- is essentially punished by her adopted sister for trying to escape and has to watch a village burn all the while she’s being told that it was her fault. now look to all the cons i listed. they either didn’t realize how messed up it was or they did but simplified it, and when it doesn’t mesh with the kid-friendly parts, it really doesn’t mesh well

a family can just be you, the leader of a once evil clan of monks, and the rest of said clan

was... mei mei drunk in the last few eps. honestly why was she here she literally did nothing

i feel like it would’ve been more interesting if xiao didn’t know shi long was her sister until, say, she revealed it in an angry monologue. like i get that xiao is this Spoiled Sweet rich girl who has no filter but with the way she talks to her, you’d think that she thinks that shi long is just a civil servant

on that note, im so Mixed on xiao’s character??? again, she’s meant to be this vain, spoiled sweet rich girl but i feel like they should have toned down the spoiled part by like A LOT bc it gets hard to root for her sometimes

ok i know ive made a post on this but: why does gongmen police have cannons?? you’d think the whole city would be apprehensive about manufacturing them let alone using them

with the sequel hook, it seems the white bone demon’s gonna come back. on that note she looks like a bat???? i couldn’t get a good look at her physical form all that well

[megashadowdragon]

salems semblance is to drain aura  which she can imbue on grimm  and a possible evolution for jaunes semblance

 salems semblance  is how cinders grimm bug/arm can drain the maidens power for the maidens powers are tied to the persons soul/aura which is why oz who would know how the process worked more than anyone thought using the aura transfer machine would work. salem used her semblance  to drain aura and gave cinders grimm bug/arm the ability 

and she was the one who created the apathy not the god of darkness who created grimm based off the animals the light god made.  and they were formed thanks to a combination of salem  manipulating the grimm pools and combining it with her semblance ability to drain aura to grant them their ability after  all our souls feel and emit emotions so it fits for her to  be able to drain emotions/induce apathy along aura after she trains with it 

so its  a combination of magic and her semblance  since if magic allowed her to drain aura then oz should be able to do that  as well unless its a result of the grimm pools but if thats the case then wouldnt grimm in general have that ability  and  she probably cant just grant  her grimm any kind of ability she can create new grimm like the flying monkey grimm which are beringels with nevermore wings but she cant give them powers out of nowhere like with her magic and ability with grimm she made some grimm with the ability to breathe fire for she herself is able to use fire magic  but the grimm she creates ability to send out a blast of fire can be even greater than her own the leviathan grimm  depending on how much she works on creating it with her grimm powers 

 and salem being able to drain aura also adds to her being jaunes evil counterpart 

megashadowdragon . tumblr . com/post/152357996242/salem-is-jaunes-evil-counterpart/embed

for while he can amplify aura she drains it  and may foreshadow  

jaunes semblance  evolving  so he can induce emotion to the people around him. He can make people feel anger, rage, hatred, greed, fear, terror, dread, courage, hope, compassion , love, lust, envy, lazy, sad, excited, happy, anxious, confident, grief, etc. He’d terrify his enemies into terrified submission and give immense hope to the masses. or amplify emotions

This makes sense since the historical figure Joan of Arc did rally a lot of the french armies and cleaned up their acts. Once she was given the permission to enter the battle and lead, the French army started becoming victorious

joan of arc had a charismartic personality where she was able to easily raise the morale (and a synonym of morale is spirits) of her soldiers so she was able to raise their spirits

and jaunes semblance is perfect for support and he would help support and empower the people  sort of giving them morale

www . stjoan-center . com/military/stephenr . html

“The firsthand sources make clear that the most obvious and stunning impact of Joan’s leadership was the way in which her charismatic personality hauled the morale of the often-defeated French army up from the pit of cynicism and despair to a fevered high of renewed enthusiasm and collective ardor for battle. Conversely, once her reputation for bringing victory to the French became established, her presence infected the heretofore invincible English with doubt and fear. Dunois testified as follows about Joan’s impact from the moment she delivered her ultimatum to the English army besieging Orleans:

… and I swear that the English, two hundred of whom had previously been sufficient to rout eight hundred or a thousand of the royal army, from that moment became so powerless that four or five hundred soldiers and men at arms could fight against what seemed to be the whole force of England.7

However, she immediately set about making the force of her personality felt throughout the army in terms of both morals and morale. She continued to stress the importance of righteous conduct of the soldiers throughout her career. As Pasquerel, de Coutes, d’Alençon and others testified, she exhorted the soldiers to become faithful in making confession and attending mass, she drove prostitutes from camp brandishing her sword, and she fiercely scolded both common soldiers and great nobles for their foul language. To their own amazement, hardened warriors of all ranks meekly submitted to her will in these matters.11 George Bernard Shaw was correct when he wrote in the preface to his play Saint Joan that what may seem to be nothing more than mere prudery on Joan’s part was in fact a vital component of restoring the ability of the French army to fight well. Soldiers of all ranks had become so cynical, so demoralized by alternating periods of defeat and inaction, that they were ready to accept any measures that would restore a modicum of their self-respect. Joan’s exhortations on little points such as attending mass and not blaspheming were the necessary first steps in rebuilding the men’s spirits.12

From the moment she first rode onto a battlefield, Joan went far beyond being merely the tireless good conscience of the army. From the moment she first laid eyes on her country’s English enemies, she aroused the will of her soldiers to fight. Joan was a fine and forceful speaker but her ability to inspire the French soldiers stemmed from her leading them into battle in the most literal sense possible.

″

Jean Dunois the Bastard of Orleans later described how much Joan boosted the moral of the city when she arrived:

“Then Joan came with me, carrying her banner, which was white and on which was the figure of our Lord holding a fleur-de-lis in His hand. And she crossed the river Loire with La Hire and myself, and we entered all together the town of Orleans. These are the reasons why I think that Joan, and all her deeds in war and in battle, were rather God’s work than man’s: the sudden changing of the wind, I mean, after she had spoken, which gave hope of aid, and the bringing in of the provisions in spite of the English, who were much stronger than the royal army, and the fact, furthermore, that this young girl swore that she had had a vision in which Saint Louis and Saint Charlemagne prayed to God for the safety of the King and of this city.”

A merchant in Orleans who witnessed Joan’s arrival later stated that she “was received with such great joy by all the inhabitants of both sexes, great and small, that it seemed she was an angel of God. By means of the Maid, they said, we are going at last to escape our enemies.” The Journal of the Siege of Orleans (Journal du siege d'Orleans) further describes the great scene of Joan’s entry:

“Thus at eight o'clock in the evening, notwithstanding all the English, who in nowise prevented it, she entered fully armed, mounted on a white horse; and borne before her her standard, which was likewise white, and which had two angels holding each a lily flower in her hand; and on the pennon was painted the Annunciation. She, thus entering into Orleans, had at her left side the Bastard of Orleans, armed and mounted most richly. And after her came several other nobles and valiant lords, squires, captains, and soldiers…Elsewhere she was received by other soldiers and burghers and burgesses of Orleans carrying torches in great number, and making such joy as if they saw God descend among them; and not without cause, for they had many weariness, hardships, and trials; and what was worse; great doubt of succor, and fear to lose body and goods. But they felt wholly comforted, and as if freed from siege by the divine virtue which they had been told was in the simple Maid, whom they regarded most affectionately; men, women, and little children. And there was a most marvelous pressing of the crowd to touch her or the horse on which se was, so much so that one of those who carried the torches approached so near her banner that it caught fire. Whereupon she touché her horse with the spurs , and turned him as gracefully to the banner, of which she extinguished the fire, as if she had long followed the wars. And the soldiers held this in great wonder, and the burghers of Orleans also; who accompanied her the length of their town, making a great welcome, and in very great honor conducting her almost to the Regnart gate, to the home of Jacques Boucher, then treasurer of the Duke of Orleans, where she was welcomed with great joy.”

www . maidofheaven . com/joanofarc_orleans . asp

not to mention how jaune managed to resolve Neptune’s insecurities after he turned down Weiss at the dance. Let’s point out that this was meant to be Neptune’s secret, Jaune convinced Neptune to confess his problems to him and then encouraged Neptune in overcoming his insecurities

@the-kiwi-is-not-a-pewee @fandomsallaroundme

[freetonavelgaze]

Warrior

At the tender age of fourteen or fifteen, too soon after entering that nebulous stew of adolescence that would carry him from childhood to manhood, my son Jeremy stood ready for battle. He woke me at around two a.m., weapon in hand, with the kind of strained whisper that always wakes a mother. My eyes and ears struggled to comprehend the scene. The words “I hear something downstairs” pierced the dark fuzzy sleep-womb I had been enjoying only seconds earlier, and I was instantly alert. The short hulking form standing over me was my son. He was wielding a samurai sword that we had gotten him a few birthdays ago.

Many thoughts came at once. Not generally inclined to panic, my brain leaped first, believe it or not, to something having to do with adorableness. The sword was part of a thrilling but tellingly inexpensive set we gave him as a nod to his achievements in the martial arts, junior style. Though the blade had never been sharpened, its edge barely even forming a V, and I suspected that any significant force on it would cause it to snap shamefully (it was, after all, a factory-made ornament for a growing market of proud suburban parents), my son didn’t know any of that. In his mind, we had trusted him with a deadly weapon, and he was armed from baby face down to as yet hairless legs. He was ready to protect us. He was ready to protect me. My heart swelled.

I have to confess, my second train of thought dwelt briefly on the absurdity of the tableau. I don’t think my son considered the potential for shock and fear I might have had waking up to someone holding a long sword a few feet from my face, and I found myself mentally slapping a head to my forehead. And my knowledge of the sword’s inherent qualities, or lack thereof, made it seem like a ridiculous choice for taking on a prowler. But this element of absurdity only enhanced his adorableness. It seemed that my mind had no interest in going to fear or protection, only wanting to stay on my brave, unseasoned son.

Still, I had to consider the possibility that the sounds he heard were more than the usual sounds our house made in the wee hours, such as the heat kicking on, or the filter back-washing. And the dead seriousness of my little man’s face necessitated that I display not a hint of the love and amusement I was experiencing. “Let me get my baseball bat,” I said, retrieving the wooden slugger I had kept from my twenties, a sort of affectionate souvenir of my own silly bravado, when I actually believed that it, along with a steak knife in my pocket, could protect me from attack on the night streets of Providence in the early 80’s. (Why I was foolish enough to be on the streets of downtown Providence at two in the morning is another story altogether). On some level, I must have felt that the bat was the appropriate companion to the sword.

My son and I stealthily walked along the upstairs hall, and down the stairs. Peering around every corner, we soundlessly investigated every room, opened closets on signal and even ventured into the basement after we felt confident that we had not missed a lurking horror which could close in behind us. Finally satisfied that we would not be murdered in our sleep (and disregarding the fact that our foray only made it all the more likely that we would meet a bad end), we returned to our respective rooms. Lying in my bed, I had a few more moments of reflection before I drifted back to sleep.

It was not lost on me that Jeremy came to my side of the bed. My husband lay right beside me and remained peacefully asleep throughout this entire incident. I knew this was testament to something unspoken but indisputable. My son understood on a gut level: Mom was the parent in charge. My husband was many wonderful things – brilliant, reliable, principled, committed, tenacious when inspired – but the last thing he was in our home was in charge. Too, there was always the possibility that my son knew my husband’s tendency toward cynicism (and perhaps even inertia) would have made him the poor choice to awaken for this particular occasion. But either way, my son came to me, and, in the dark of my room, I silently thanked him for this acknowledgment, which only made me love him more, and was more than enough payment for my briefly elevated heart rate. I also noted that when we embarked as a commando team, my son let me take the lead. Whether this was in deference to my badass abilities and leadership or, instead, a recognition of his own inexperience and diminutive bearing, I do not know, but, in any event, it greatly reassured me. My son, it seems, was not being foolish at all.

Just the other day, I reminded Jeremy of how he came into my room with his samurai sword so many years ago. I pointed out that the sword may not have been up to the task. Sensing the little bit of mirth in my tone and my affection for his callow boyishness, he retorted with arch assurance mixed with the gentlest of chiding. “Well, a prowler in the dark wouldn’t have known that, and I think I could have down some real damage with it. It was a long pointy thing, after all!” Even now, his bravado remains intact. For that, I am immensely proud and grateful. And with his now conspicuous size and the tempering of his steel, I have no doubt that these days he would be leading the commandos.