#LIKE EVEN IF IT WAS BLITHELY TO BE TRANSFORMATIVE ON PURPOSE THAT'S ALSO ALLOWED SO STFU LOL

[monstersinthecosmos]

I really hate posting or acknowledging fandom drama unless it serves to support or encourage people who are feeling down about it but this is a tricky one for me to translate because I'm mad af!

Let's take a deep breath.

The thing is, about fandom! When you first get here, or get to a new one, or whatever! It's weird, there's etiquette built in, there's invisible rules. But the main thing is like, we're all here because we can't be normal about our blorbo, right?

And it's okay if you project on your blorbo! It's okay if your version of them isn't completely canon-accurate! It's okay if you are isolating a single aspect of their personality/backstory to play with because it speaks to you! YOU ARE ALLOWED TO DO THESE THINGS.

It's also okay if the canon has conflicting information! It's okay if a theme went over your head and you don't consider it! It's okay if you're the only person in the fandom who notices a certain quality and you're the only one talking about it!!

There is enough room here for all of us!

The ENTIRE POINT of fandom and fanworks is to ask questions about the characters, to dissect them, to put them back together. The point of transformative fanworks is to TRANSFORM! If we weren't so deeply invested in these universes and didn't have questions and didn't want more content about all the blank spots, we would just CONSUME THE CANON LIKE A NORMAL PERSON AND MOVE ON WITH OUR GODDAMN LIVES. We wouldn't be bothering to write fic and make art and RP and decode meta! We wouldn't be making this into a hobby and talking about it all day!

It's from LOVE.

So.

I get it, it can be intimidating showing up in a new space or into a new hobby. And sometimes we can step on toes if we don't know all the invisible rules and etiquette. But what I can promise you is that you don't need to make room for people who are rude to you, who try to tell you that their way is the only way, who consistently want to insult you for asking questions, noticing themes, playing with other versions of the characters.

We are ALL HERE to be silly and dick around and have fun, and when someone is being an asshole about it, I think it looks worse for them than it does for you. One of you is minding your business and having fun and the other one is trying to tell everyone what to think lol.

Please protect yourself from bullies; don't let someone police the way you read canon, or the way you speak about your fav, or the fanworks you create. These people are not your friends, and they are not your audience. You do not need their acceptance to have fun and make things.

Fandom shouldn't be this fucking exhausting, yall. It costs zero dollars to be nice to people and let them enjoy their fucking blorbo in peace and you look like a fucking asshole when you don't shut the fuck up about it and sow discord in a shared space.

People's horrendously OOC takes do not affect you at all even a little bit not even when they're so so so so so OOC that you think you need to be Fandom Professor rising from your well to shame us! It cannot and will never hurt you, so leave them the fuck alone and let them have fun!!

[gwynsplainer]

On The Grinning Man and the De-Politicization of L'Homme Qui Rit (a Spontaneous Essay)

Since I watched The Grinning Man I’ve been meaning to write a post comparing it to The Man Who Laughs but I have a lot of opinions and analysis I wanted to do so I have been putting it off for ages. So here goes! If I were to make a post where I explain everything the musical changes it would definitely go over the word limit, so I’ll mostly stick to the thematic. Let me know if that’s a post you’d like to see, though!

Ultimately, The Grinning Man isn’t really an adaptation of the Man Who Laughs. It keeps some of the major plot beats (a disfigured young man with a mysterious past raised by a man and his wolf to perform to make a living alongside the blind girl he rescued from the snow, restored to his aristocratic past by chance after their show is seen by Lord David and Duchess Josiana, and the interference of the scheming Barkilphedro…. well, that’s just about it). The problem I had with the show, however, wasn’t the plot points not syncing up, it was the thematic inconsistency with the book. By replacing the book’s antagonistic act—the existence of a privileged ruling class—with the actions of one or two individuals from the lower class, transforming the societal tragedy into a revenge plot, and reducing the pain of dehumanization and abuse to the pain of a physical wound, The Grinning Man is a sanitized, thematically weak failure to adapt The Man Who Laughs.

I think the main change is related to the reason I posit the book never made it in the English-speaking world. The musical was made in England, the setting of the book which was so critical of its monarchy, it’s aristocracy, and the failings of its society in ways that really haven’t been remedied so far. It might be a bit of a jump to assume this is connected, but I have evidence. They refer to it as a place somewhat like our own, but change King James to King Clarence, and Queen Anne to Angelica. Obviously, the events of the book are fictional, and it was a weird move for Hugo to implicate real historical figures as responsible for the torture of a child, but it clearly served a purpose in his political criticism that the creative team made a choice to erase. They didn’t just change the names, though, they replaced the responsibility completely. In the book, Gwynplaine’s disfigurement—I will be referring to him as Gwynplaine because I think the musical calling him Grinpayne was an incredibly stupid and cruel choice—was done to him very deliberately, with malice aforethought, at the order of the king. The king represents the oppression of the privileged, and having the fault be all Barkilphédro loses a lot thematically. The antagonism of the rich is replaced by the cruelty of an upwardly mobile poor man (Barkilphédro), and the complicity of another poor man.

The other “villain” of the original story is the way that Gwynplaine is treated. I think for 1869, this was a very ahead-of-its-time approach to disability, which almost resembles the contemporary understanding of the Social Model of disability. (Sidenote: I can’t argue on Déa’s behalf. Hugo really dropped the ball with her. I’m going to take a moment to shout out the musical for the strength and agency they gave Déa.) The way the public treats Gwynplaine was kind of absent from the show. I thought it was a very interesting and potentially good choice to have the audience enter the role of Gwynplaine’s audience (the first they see of him is onstage, performing as the Grinning Man) rather than the role of the reader (where we first see him as a child, fleeing a storm). If done right, this could have explored the story’s theme of our tendency to place our empathy on hold in order to be distracted and feel good, eventually returning to critique the audience’s complicity in Gwynplaine’s treatment. However, since Grinpayne’s suffering is primarily based in the angst caused by his missing past and the physical pain of his wound (long-healed into a network of scars in the book) [a quick side-note: I think it was refreshing to see chronic pain appear in media, you almost never see that, but I wish it wasn’t in place of the depth of the original story], the audience does not have to confront their role in his pain. They hardly play one. Instead, it is Barkilphédro, the singular villain, who is responsible for Grinpayne’s suffering. Absolving the audience and the systems of power which put us comfortably in our seats to watch the show of pain and misery by relegating responsibility to one character, the audience gets to go home feeling good.

If you want to stretch, the villain of the Grinning Man could be two people and not one. It doesn’t really matter, since it still comes back to individual fault, not even the individual fault of a person of high status, but one or two poor people. Musical!Ursus is an infinitely shittier person than his literary counterpart. In the book, Gwynplaine is still forced to perform spectacles that show off his appearance, but they’re a lot less personal and a lot less retraumatizing. In the musical, they randomly decided that not only would the role of the rich in the suffering of the poor be minimized, but also it would be poor people that hurt Grinpayne the most. Musical!Ursus idly allows a boy to be mutilated and then takes him in and forces him to perform a sanitized version of his own trauma while trying to convince him that he just needs to move on. In the book, he is much kinder. Their show, Chaos Vanquished, also allows him to show off as an acrobat and a singer, along with Déa, whose blindness isn’t exploited for the show at all. He performs because he needs to for them all to survive. He lives a complex life like real people do, of misery and joy. He’s not obsessed with “descanting on his own deformity” (dark shoutout to William Shakespeare for that little…infuriating line from Richard III), but rather thoughtfully aware of what it means. He deeply feels the reality of how he is seen and treated. Gwynplaine understands that he was hurt by the people who discarded him for looking different and for being poor, and he fucking goes off about it in the Parliament Confrontation scene (more to come on this). It is not a lesson he has to learn but a lesson he has to teach.

Grinpayne, on the other hand, spends his days in agony over his inability to recall who disfigured him, and his burning need to seek revenge. To me, this feels more than a little reminiscent of the trope of the Search for a Cure which is so pervasive in media portrayals of disability, in which disabled characters are able to think of nothing but how terribly wrong their lives went upon becoming disabled and plan out how they might rectify this. Grinpayne wants to avenge his mutilation. Gwynplaine wants to fix society. Sure, he decides to take the high road and not do this, and his learning is a valuable part of the musical’s story, but I think there’s something so awesome about how the book shows a disabled man who understands his life better than any abled mentor-philosophers who try to tell him how to feel. Nor is Gwynplaine fixed by Déa or vice versa, they merely find solace and strength in each other’s company and solidarity. The musical uses a lot of language about love making their bodies whole which feels off-base to me.

I must also note how deeply subversive the book was for making him actually happy: despite the pain he feels, he is able to enjoy his life in the company and solidarity he finds with Déa and takes pride in his ability to provide for her. The assumption that he should want to change his lot in life is not only directly addressed, but also stated outright as a failure of the audience: “You may think that had the offer been made to him to remove his deformity he would have grasped at it. Yet he would have refused it emphatically…Without his rictus… Déa would perhaps not have had bread every day”

He has a found family that he loves and that loves him. I thought having him come from a loving ~Noble~ family that meant more to him than Ursus did rather than having Ursus, a poor old man, be the most he had of a family in all his memory and having Déa end up being Ursus’ biological daughter really undercut the found family aspect of the book in a disappointing way.

Most important to me was the fundamental change that came from the removal of the Parliament Confrontation scene, on both the themes of the show and the character of Gwynplaine. When Gwyn’s heritage is revealed and his peerage is restored to him, he gets the opportunity to confront society’s problems in the House of Parliament. When Gwynplaine arrives in the House of Parliament, the Peers of England are voting on what inordinate sum to allow as income to the husband of the Queen. The Peers expect any patriotic member of their ranks to blithely agree to this vote: in essence, it is a courtesy. Having grown up in extreme poverty, Gwynplaine is outraged by the pettiness of this vote and votes no. The Peers, shocked by this transgression, allow him to take the stand and explain himself. In this scene, Gwynplaine brilliantly and profoundly confronts the evils of society. He shows the Peers their own shame, recounting how in his darkest times a “pauper nourished him” while a “king mutilated him.” Even though he says nothing remotely funny, he is received with howling laughter. This scene does a really good job framing disability as a problem of a corrupt, compassionless society rather than something wrong with the disabled individual (again, see the Social Model of disability, which is obviously flawed, but does a good job recognizing society that denies access, understanding and compassion—the kind not built on pity—as a central problem faced by disabled communities). It is the central moment of Hugo’s story thematically, which calls out the injustices in a system and forces the reader to reckon with it.

It is so radical and interesting and full that Gwynplaine is as brilliant and aware as he is. He sees himself as a part of a system of cruelty and seeks justice for it. He is an empathic, sharp-minded person who seeks to make things better not just for himself and his family, but for all who suffer as he did at the hands of Kings. Grinpayne’s rallying cry is “I will find and kill the man who crucified my face.” He later gets wise to the nature of life and abandons this, but in that he never actually gets to control his own relationship to his life. When I took a class about disability in the media one of the things that seemed to stand out to me most is that disabled people should be treated as the experts on their own experiences, which Gwynplaine is. Again, for a book written in 1869 that is radical. Grinpayne is soothed into understanding by the memory of his (rich) mother’s kindness.

I’ll give one more point of credit. I loved that there was a happy ending. But maybe that’s just me. The cast was stellar, and the puppetry was magnificent. I wanted to like the show so badly, but I just couldn’t get behind what it did to the story I loved.

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 123: Room for Ruby

“It's sunny now, but it can always rain later.”

Catch and Release really did change everything. I’ve already discussed it as a paradigm shift, transforming the concept of what the Crystal Gems are: before, a quartet with Steven as the rookie, and after, a fluid group where Steven has some seniority. We’re in an era where Connie, a full-fledged human, is a Crystal Gem. Bismuth, who already was a Crystal Gem but got reintroduced and then left behind, will return as a member of the modern iteration. And two former enemies, Peridot and Lapis, have joined the group (the latter unofficially). So who’s to say a ruby soldier wouldn’t fit in?

Granted, Charlyne Yi’s performs a ruby that’s a little too forgiving, and power combo Raven Molisee (of the highly expressive Molisee’n’Villeco) and Jesse Zuke (of the barnmaster duo Zuke’n’Florido) exaggerate her face and words to the point where it’s at least a little suspicious from the start. But Navy, cleverly named for the gem on her navel just as Army is named for her arm gem, has always been friendly and chipper compared to the other rubies in her squad. It’s believable, despite us never witnessing it, that the other rubies are mean to her for this attitude. And because this is a ridiculous character, it was always possible that her ridiculously jolly attitude was sincere.

That Navy is lying the whole time is irrelevant to the wonder of a show that makes us believe that she might join up. Her betrayal might be predictable, but our status quo is as capable of change as the planet our heroes love; it’s a similar sensation to Alone at Sea, where even though nothing drastic happens there’s a real possibility that Lapis might relapse and go back to Malachite. It’s so much better than an episode where we know from the start that the character-of-the-week will depart by the end of the story.

Navy’s chipper behavior is variably cute and questionable, but I love the massive hint that is the rain sequence. Gems become Crystal Gems when exposed to water, so Navy gets her own little baptism as part of the orientation. But because she’s a false convert, we get artificial rain for her artificial reaction. Yi sells absurd joy as well as absurd frustration, but there’s a cloud hanging over this moment that becomes clearer on rewatch. 

Despite beginning with Steven and Garnet, then bringing Navy along for the ride, Room for Ruby becomes a Lapis Lazuli episode as soon as we head back to the barn. Navy is as one-dimensional as it gets before the reveal, blithely accepting everything that comes her way and seeming incapable of feeling negative emotions, so she needs an external opponent if we want this episode to have a plot. Yes, it’d be fun to see this goofball being a goofball for eleven minutes, but thankfully Steven Universe is willing to go deeper.

Peridot’s bossiness and desire to impress makes her an excellent candidate to teach Navy the ropes, and both can bond with fellow shorty Steven over a shared go-get’em mindset. So it makes sense that our wet blanket is Lapis, who first distrusts Navy and then gets fed up with how easy everything is for her. She’s trying, but seeing another foe-turned-friend have such a smooth go of it isn’t easy, and exploring those emotions of jealousy and inadequacy allows for a wonderful last hurrah before Lapis abandons Earth in Raising the Barn.

Lapis has a tricky role to play here, as she’s straddling the line between protagonist and antagonist depending on how much you trust Navy. Our hero/villain is portrayed sympathetically, as we’re reminded of her traumas and her slow but steady recovery process; she might come across as petty, but it’s understandable pettiness when Navy breezes by in areas where Lapis has struggled. And it helps that unlike fellow Ornery Lapis episode Barn Mates, Navy doesn’t seem to get upset at the negativity; this isn’t Peridot trying to win over a stubborn holdout, it’s a spacy ruby who ignores the venom. But at the same time, Lapis is the only protester in the Navy Parade, and her clash with Steven’s goal of bringing in a new friend makes her a huge bummer. 

Which is why I love this episode’s lesson so much: that it’s sometimes okay to be a huge bummer.

It’s okay because everyone’s going through the world at their own pace, and whether you’re clinically depressed, a survivor of trauma, or you’re just plain sad, it doesn’t make you less worthy than folks in a happier mood. Lapis attempts patience and understanding despite her annoyance, and only snaps when Navy’s attitude turns sickly sweet; feelings of inferiority are hard to work through, but it doesn’t make it okay to be a jerk the whole time. Even after the outburst, Lapis is quick to reassure Navy, acknowledging that it’s an internal problem and apologizing. She wants to like the newcomer, but as soon as she senses the forced perkiness it’s hard for her not to notice that something’s off.

A good twist is something that makes you rethink the plot, but a great twist does this duty while being enjoyable as a plot point on its own merits. The execution of Navy’s betrayal is marvelous, even as it becomes more and more obvious that it’s coming. After spending the whole episode geeking out about Earth stuff, Navy not-so-subtly suggests that she wants to go back to her ship. Steven not only falls for it, but is down to press a huge button without asking follow-up questions; it may seem inconsistent with his growing maturity, but it makes sense that an excitable kid is lost in the joy of making a new friend. The stranger area for me is his exclamation that the Crystal Gems “finally” have a pilot, as if Pearl hasn’t been successfully navigating spaceships this whole time, but again, he’s caught up in the moment.

The twist-within-a-twist is that while Navy has been plotting against our heroes this whole time, her demeanor isn’t part of the act. Yi's transition from earnest giddiness on land versus manic giddiness post-betrayal is worth the price of admission, especially as she merrily explains that she opted not to just steal the ship because she wanted to watch the Crystal Gems suffer. 

And of course, this brings about Lapis’s triumphant laughter at being proven right. Jennifer Paz is awesome throughout the episode, restraining herself when necessary for big bursts of energy to hit home, and it culminates in the sheer joy that comes from righteous vindication. We could’ve gotten a somber moment of Steven’s anguish at being tricked, similar to what we got after Peridot’s duplicity in Message Received, but Lapis allows us a sense of relief despite things going horribly. 

In an episode featuring a character as unsubtle as Navy (being tricky doesn’t stop her from being loud and hammy), I love the quieter story we get from Garnet. We only get a nudge that Navy’s story appeals to Ruby and Sapphire, but we don’t need more than that, so I’m glad we don’t get more. Yes, it would be fun to see Ruby hanging out with Navy, but the episode’s focus is elsewhere and we don’t indulge in fanservice that would take away from the plot. The two balloons Garnet brings at the end are color-coded for convenience, so we don’t need anyone to tell us that the optimistic red message is Ruby’s hopes and the apologetic blue message is Sapphire’s realism. It’s not a novel observation that Steven Universe respects the audience enough to not hold our hands, but it’s still appreciated.

(Also appreciated is a soft moment of Garnet bonding with Steven independent of the plot as they make wishes; Steven may be growing up fast, but he’s still allowed to be a kid sometimes instead of spending every episode in teen angst mode.)

In terms of criticisms, I’m a little torn about the pacing: Room for Ruby meanders a bit in that second act, even though I understand its purpose. Lapis needs to have her tolerance for Navy strained to a breaking point so she’s not throwing a tantrum out of nowhere, so we need multiple examples of frustrating glee. But it does get a little boring on rewatch to have the point driven home again and again that Navy is a perfect little angel, even if it’s all building up to the twist that she’s anything but.

Still, I can’t help but enjoy the nostalgia this structure provides, because major plot points aside, the episode fits right in with classic Season 1. We get a simple story that primes us for an obvious conclusion. Steven will find an unusual solution in his cheeseburger backpack. Steven will learn patience when Pearl takes a while to reform. Steven’s beach party with the Gems and the Pizzas will teach the Gems to respect civilians more. Lapis will grow to accept Navy’s differences. But instead, Steven’s improvisation only goes so far, and he’s impatient again as soon as Pearl returns, and the Gems still don’t care about Fish Stew Pizza, and Lapis’s negative outlook was correct. Steven Universe first made its mark by toying with the conventions of episodes with straightforward morals, and it’s nice to see that legacy continue so late in the series. 

The implications of Navy’s actions are soon made clear, as the loss of the Crystal Gems’ only means of space travel (stolen from the very barn where Steven, Greg, and Pearl first experimented with space travel!) makes Steven’s imminent sacrifice that much weightier. But before that shoe drops, we can enjoy one last glimpse of our favorite little ruby.

(I’m kidding of course, our Ruby is the best ruby.)

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Charlyne Yi hamming it up and Lapis’s grouchiness paying off? What’s not to love?

Top Twenty

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

When It Rains

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Room for Ruby

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

[thewritingrealm]

Character Types

1. Antihero: This character, a protagonist (typically seen in detective and adventure genres) whose personality flaws distinguish him or her from a standard hero, is inherently much more interesting than the upstanding counterpart. The key characteristic is usually misanthropy, but that’s not enough to round a character out. An antihero must have a solid foundation on which to stand.

2. Absent-minded professor: Perhaps Professor Fumblebuttons is just pretending to be a shock-haired scientist who can’t remember where he put his glasses (“Um, the glasses you’re wearing?”). What’s his motive for his deception?

3. Boy/girl next door: Is John or Mary really what he or she seems? What dark secret does that wholesome countenance conceal? This character easily pales in comparison with a complicated villain or sidekick, so make an extra effort to invest your protagonist with personality — or relegate the squeaky-clean persona to a secondary role.

4. Clown/fool: Traditionally, the court jester — often someone of fragile mental stability or feigning the same — was the only person allowed to mock or question his powerful patron, and his antics involved not only lighthearted entertainment but also sometimes barbed satire or veiled criticism. A comic-relief character needs to be more than just a wisecracking or mischievous type. Perhaps he’s the omniscient narrator, or he’s pretending to be a smart-aleck to divert attention from his true purpose.

5. Damsel in distress: The helpless young maiden is one of the most tired tropes in storytelling — and so is the helpless young maiden turned butt-kicking babe. Better yet, imbue your ingenue with the characteristics of another character type, either one on this list or another stock persona.

6. Everyman: The peril of presenting a character designed to represent everyone is that he will appeal to no one. Make sure your everyman (or everywoman, or boy or girl edition) possesses enough distinguishing characteristics to be interesting, even intriguing. Remember: Relentlessly virtuous characters are boring, and stories in which they have no real challenges fail to engage readers.

7. Femme fatale: The enduring appeal of the deceptive villainess is whether she is in fact aiding or thwarting the protagonist. It’s a balancing act to keep readers guessing to the very end of the story—and that may not be enough. What if your femme fatale is herself deceived, either by the protagonist or by a third character? Twists within twists keep this trope fresh.

8. Hooker with a heart of gold: The bad girl turned good girl is a nice repudiation of moral intolerance, but it’s a stale stereotype. As in the case of her sister the femme fatale, readers shouldn’t be able to predict how she will behave. Is a second-act act of kindness part of a climactic ruse? Is she pressured to betray the protagonist, or is it part of her own plot?

9. Knight-errant: This bright-eyed variant of the hero can drag down a story with him (or her) — take care that the conscientious crusader is not too glistening of tooth and sparkling of eye. The most interesting knight-errant in literature is Don Quixote, who was an abject failure (and was all the more appealing for his indefatigable idealism).

10. Manic pixie dream girl: This phrase, coined relatively recently, refers to the offbeat and seemingly off-her-rocker character who upends the protagonist’s carefully ordered world. The problem? She’s done and overdone — at least in films. For the stereotype to not be stale, there has to be more to her than quirk. Why is she such a goofball?

11. Nerd: Geek, dork, nimrod — been there, done that. But, for example, in the brilliant film Brick (film noir meets adolescent angst), the school brain is not an object of scorn but an awkward, laconic human database for the teenage gumshoe — and there’s a touch of empathy for him in the way the lead character keeps him at arm’s length. What makes a nerd a nerd? And what makes him (or her) interesting? Hints of depth, or of deviousness, or both.

12. Sidekick: The protagonist’s right-hand man or woman serves as a counterpoint: intrepid vs. timid, serious vs. silly, and so on, one way or the other. Make sure your lead character’s attendant complements him or her, but also keep their relationship fresh by introducing some vulnerability in the main character the subordinate can exploit.

13. Tomboy: The tomboy transformed is a tired trope, not much better than the mousy maiden who becomes a blithe beauty just by taking off her eyeglasses. Resist the urge to go the Cinderella route: If an androgynous or athletic woman or girl refuses to conform to societal standards for feminine appearance, go with it. But why does she rebel against such norms? That’s the key to her character.

14. Tortured artist: In literature as in real life, complicated creative types are tiresome. A broadly comic tortured artist may be an effective device, but the writer must handle this type with care.

15. Wise man: The scholarly mentor is a time-tested element of many classic stories (think Merlin, or Yoda), so any such character must possess distinct traits. Perhaps your story’s wise man is brilliant about some things but inept concerning others — he needs his protégé’s help in affairs of the heart, or, like the absent-minded professor, with whom he shares some characteristics, is a sage when it comes to intellectual areas but is at a loss when it comes to practical matters.

Source.

[fiorekrp]

That’s MONTOYA ‘MONTY’ FENG  — 

He looks a lot like WEN JUNHUI.

GUILD MARK : yellow, located on his left calf

MAGIC : sound magic

this magic allows the users to perceive, generate and manipulate any type of sound, attacking the opponents with sounds of various intensity. the caster can create powerful sound waves from any part of their body or anywhere in the nearby surroundings, making it effective for mid-range to long-range combat. depending on how much sound is generated, and the pressure in it, sound magic can easily deafen the caster’s opponents. in addition, the sound waves can even be strong enough to destroy buildings with ease and can kill multiple people.

note : though monty is able to use his sound magic freely, he also uses magically imbued headphones to help him control his magic better and to boost its strength.

ADVANTAGES :

travel : he is able to travel through wavelengths, essentially enabling him to move at the speed of sound by using sound as a medium to transport his body. he does this by transforming himself into sound waves using his headphones.

hearing : monty’s hearing is very, very sharp, to the point where he has the uncanny magical ability to hear a person’s very soul, allowing him to determine their emotions, what they are going to do next, and even allow him to hear their thoughts. this ability is so accurate that it’s actually confused with mind reading sometimes.

DISADVANTAGES :

headphones : without his headphones, monty would essentially lose around 40% of his magic. though he can still use it, it is weakened quite drastically and he’s also unable to travel through wavelengths.

reckless : he has a casual lack of concern for danger and frequently gets himself into grave situations without much thought (sometimes on purpose). despite being able to get himself out of said situation quite easily, his devil-may-care attitude stops him from thinking with logic at times.

TRIGGERS : death PERSONALITY :

POSITIVE — witty, creative, protective

NEGATIVE — mischievous, blithe, cunning

BIOGRAPHY :

prelude : cedar, earthland, his birthplace; elena, a seamstress, his frail mother; money, something accepted as payment for goods, something his family never has enough of. these are all the facts of his childhood, facts he knows like the back of his hand. and yet, he is naive and very much the definition of a child when he asks his mother why he doesn’t have a father like the other boys do and why oh why they barely have enough money for food almost every day. his mother doesn’t give a verbal answer; her answer lies within the unreadable smile she gives him. he’s too young to decipher it, too young to understand why his mother is quiet, why the world is unjust.

interlude : he is young when he finally comes to the conscious decision to steal. his mother’s job does not pay enough to keep food on the table for the both of them, and so she sacrifices for him, buys food enough for only one person and gives it all to him. he doesn’t find it fair, doesn’t find a lot of things in the world fair, so he figures, why be fair at all, then? and so he steals, from bakeries, from stores, from anywhere his hands can reach. half the time he is caught and escapes with nothing in hand; the other half he is successful and brings back food or money from the stolen items he sold to travelers or mages. his magic appears not long after, and it only serves to help him with his stealing, helps him get caught significantly less from his non-magic days.

his mother thinks he’s doing odd jobs for the people in town. he doesn’t correct her.

his days pass like this; playing, practicing, stealing, lying. but as he grows older, his mother grows frailer, weaker, until all she can do is lie in bed as she struggles to sew. the sight of it makes him desperate, but there are no hospitals in cedar and trying to travel with his mother to the closest town with one would be suicide for the both of them. he can do nothing but watch as, slowly but surely, his mother becomes weaker, sicker, becomes unable to even lift her hands. he does nothing, says nothing, only watches with empty eyes and a million things racing through his mind, the most prominent one asking him why he’s so fucking helpless. he doesn’t have an answer.

she dies, inevitably.

he blames himself, inevitably.

thus starts feng montoya’s descent into self-destruction.

postlude : chaos, chaos, chaos; that is what he brings to the towns he stops at in his self-destructive binge. he steals, cons, commits enough crime to be labeled an outlaw by the citizens. he does not care, much too immersed in his own guilt and self-sabotage to truly think about his actions and their consequences.

that is, until he arrives at magnolia and makes two mistakes.

his first mistake is thinking he can do whatever he wants in the town housing fairy tail. his second mistake is trying to steal from makarov dreyar and thinking he can get away with it. instead of having him arrested, however, the older man instead offers him a place in his guild. him, a wanted criminal in several towns, someone who uses his magic for nefarious purposes, someone who tried to steal from him, someone who couldn’t even help his own mother.

he accepts, for some godforsaken reason.