it might seem like im just a totk hater, and to be fair, i AM, but its not bc i think its bad in every way- if it was all bad, ok, then its all bad and we can forget it happened and can all accept that-
but totk specifically hit the jackpot of -things that frustrate me so much i cannot let go and need to talk about it-
its part of my current hyperfixation (or whatever is the right word), botw is one of my all time favorite games, and that one had so many mysteries i was DEEPLY invested in, its got great music and some absolutely fanatstic moments, some ideas are great to fine, but it doesnt make sense, i hate time travel like little else in games, it constantly contradicts itself, the franchise, even its previous game its supposed to be a sequel to, i felt like i was made fun of by the game itself, for caring so much about what they had set up or done in botw, the moment i saw what they did to the shrine of life i felt so devasted i could hear people pointing and laughing at me for having cared about it, the writing treating me like i am so brainless i cannot connect dot one and two when there are only two dots in front of me labeld 1 and 2 that it then tells me to connect directly, to my face, multiple times, before showing me how to draw a line, its full, so SO FULL of missed opportunities, its got choices in there that are just nothing but frustrating bc there were a hundred other ones, i can see what you could do wit hthe basic ideas, theres people that worship it to a point you cant say anything even mildly critical, even about objectively bad things (there is no excuse for that godawful arrow menu) bc they will jump at you like a rabid animal-
i could go on but you get the point, never in my life has anything hit me like that
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I'm still thinking about that scene in Victoriocity S3E7 where Fleet runs back towards the Beast so as to lure it into the path of the train...
Clara's exclamation of 'Teamwork, Fleet!' after Fleet says he's got a plan reflects her conviction that any plan that Fleet has will be a shared plan, something they do together.
This conviction is a kind of trust, and that trust is part of the reason Clara takes a moment to realise Fleet has headed back towards the Beast. She trusts that he's following behind her. She keeps talking to him, her words full of optimism.
When she realises Fleet isn't there, she immediately realises what that must mean he's done, and her voice sounds more small and scared than I think we've ever heard it before.
Fleet's attempt at self-sacrifice is a kind of betrayal of Clara's trust, but when he echoes her celebration of their teamwork in a more somber tone, I think it suggests that he understands the weight of that betrayal.
If Fleet's plan is that Clara won't realise he's gone until it's already too late, then he thinks "Teamwork, Clara" will be the last words he'll ever speak to her. In what he imagines will be their final conversation, Fleet affirms Clara's understanding of them as a team who work well together, even as he is making a choice that rejects the possibility of their teamwork in this scenario. It's a recognition of what their dynamic has meant. It's a goodbye and an apology, even if Clara doesn't understand it as such at first.
I don't think Fleet sounds scared as he initially faces down the train. When he shouts "Yeah, this way, you stupid machine! Come on then!", he sounds defiant and grimly determined.
In fact, I don't think he sounds afraid until Clara appears, until she might be at risk of being in the path of the Beast or the train as well. It's when he shouts "Clara, stay back for God's sake!" and "Please, get back!" that there's real fear and desperation in his voice. He can confront the idea of giving his own life, but not the idea that doing so might put Clara in danger.
Another thing about these lines is that the move from 'stay back' to 'get back' suggests that Clara didn't obey his first instruction but got closer to him (and therefore to the path of the Beast and the train) between those two lines.
Then Fleet gives what might be another attempt at his last words: "I'm sorry! I'm sorry." A repeated apology before an attempted self-sacrifice is an implicit acknowledgement of how much losing him would hurt Clara. He regrets causing her pain.
Even so, he's accepted that he is about to die and that it'd be worth it to destroy the Beast. But Clara very much hasn't accepted either those things. She's still trying to yell over the noise of the train; she's pulling off her ring to throw at him.
I think it's a good illustration of how Clara's optimism is a kind of strength. She always believes that they can "make a new plan" and that it'll be one in which no one has to die. I think Archibald Fleet needs someone like that, someone who'll tell him to drop to the ground when his death advances from both sides, someone who - even in a dark tunnel with an murderous metal monster and a speeding train - won't stop shouting that there's hope.
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Aziraphale: The Sword that Guards the Tree of Life
Looking where the furniture isn't
This post is dedicated to @meatballlady's excellent insistence that if we want to try to predict where season 3 will go, we need to look at where the furniture isn't. That is, what must have been there but wasn't shown?
For this one, my source material is going to be Genesis. That is, in no small part, because it does in fact fuck severely that Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett took the angel with the flaming sword and the serpent of Eden and made them kiss (@joycrispy, @ouidamforeman). It's also because Genesis, quite simply, exists, and it seems safe to assume that most everyone in Gaiman and Pratchett's intended audience has been exposed to at least its first few chapters dozens of times.
What does Genesis tell us about Aziraphale's purpose?
3:22 Then the Lord God said, “Behold, the man has become like one of Us, knowing good and evil; and now, he might reach out with his hand, and take fruit also from the tree of life, and eat, and live forever”—
23 therefore the Lord God sent him out of the Garden of Eden, to cultivate the ground from which he was taken.
24 So He drove the man out; and at the east of the Garden of Eden He stationed the cherubim and the flaming sword which turned every direction to guard the way to the tree of life.
@joycrispy's analysis above highlights Aziraphale's role as given in the last verse: as the angel chosen to wield the flaming sword, he was sent down after Adam and Eve were expelled to prevent them from returning. Instead, he chose to protect them by giving that sword away. His desire to protect humanity is indeed beautiful (@give-soup-please, @snek-eyes).
But wait, what came right before that? "And take fruit also from the tree of life...?"
2:9 Out of the ground the Lord God caused every tree to grow that is pleasing to the sight and good for food; the tree of life was also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
That's right: What we see in the show is that Adam and Eve were sent out of Eden so that they'd have to deal with the rain and the animals and have to work for their food, but that was never the primary motivation. God planted two special trees, and after Eve and Adam ate from one of them, God was terrified at the prospect of them turning around and eating from the other. And thus, the Garden of Eden was made off-limits and set to be permanently guarded by an angel with a flaming sword.
So, the flaming sword.
Twice now, Aziraphale's sword has helped humanity survive complete and total destruction (@nottobehornyonthemain). The first time, he handed the sword to the first two humans, which protected not just them but the entirety of the human race via Adam and very pregnant Eve.
The second time, he let it be wielded by The Them, who used it to best the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse and save the billions of humans already alive as well as unborn generations.
Perhaps the flaming sword was only intended as a plot point in the first season. However, if its purpose were completed, it could have easily been destroyed. As a narrative piece, it could have broken dramatically at the end of the face-off against the Four Horsepeople. Or, Watsonianly, God could have chosen to break it Herself; after all, it was already used against its intended purpose twice, so why let it keep existing?
Instead, it's carefully taken away to... where? Heaven?
The place Aziraphale is now going?
Or at least a place where he could likely find a record showing where it's being stored?
Whether you call it "rule of threes" or "Chekhov's gun," I think it likely that Aziraphale will be getting his sword back in season 3. He probably doesn't want it (@createserenity, @ineffableigh, @doctorscienceknowsfandom), but he'll need it.
The question, then, is what would Aziraphale do with the flaming sword he was given to prevent humans from reaching the tree of life?
If we're looking at where the furniture isn't, the biggest stretch of an interpretation would be to say that the missing furniture is the tree of life. If anyone knows where Eden is, it would be Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate. We know that both Heaven and Hell want to end humanity. The opening credits have humanity walking to their judgment after their deaths; what better way to prevent that than by preventing those deaths?
The most intense version of this theory says that the audience should be familiar with the story of the Garden of Eden and know damn well that there are two special trees there and that Aziraphale was put in place to guard the second one — the one humanity hasn't eaten from yet, the one that grants immortal life. That's where, if I were truly trying to swing for the hills by aiming at where the furniture isn't, I would ideally like to end this post. If that were the case, season 3 could even open with Aziraphale walking towards the Garden of Eden, sword in hand, but this time approaching it from the outside with the intention of tearing the wall down.
But, let's be honest, making individual people immortal doesn't feel like it would fit with the themes of Good Omens, nor with Neil Gaiman or Terry Pratchett's world views.
So, let's take the tree of life symbolically: Instead of the tree of life granting individual humans immortality, it could instead represent giving humanity immortality. In that case, the thing that's where the furniture isn't is Aziraphale's sword. You know, the sword that's already saved the human race from extinction twice now, with both times being because Aziraphale gave it away.
I suspect that the sword will wind up in Aziraphale's hands again in season 3. I also quite suspect that it won't be staying there. In the end, I expect it will once again be up to humanity to reach out their hand to take the apple from that second tree.
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