17 with Luna, 5 Damien, and uhh 7 with Phobos?
How does your OC sabotage themselves?
Captain Luna has some of the ‘normal’ self-sabotage behaviours like isolating from others when he’s sad, neglecting his health, ruminating on things that happened decades ago/things he can’t control, etc.
But right now, he has this major problem of never really asking or accepting help, even when he needs it. The whole Wither King fiasco we’re seeing? He’s almost constantly turning down other people’s offers to help him- “Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it”, “Thank you, I appreciate the concern, but you mustn’t trouble yourself”.
He’s almost convinced that he can do everything his way, and that he can do it alone, for better or for worse.
(This will bite him in the ass later in Arc 1 when he tries to save Damien and defeat the Wither King all by himself.)
The guy has a not unfounded (but definitely unchallenged!) subconscious belief that he’s better than everyone else. Because his immortality is forced but manual, he’s very aware of how much older and more experienced he is than most of the other Perpetua members. On top of that, the Key makes him almost a god among men, and as it’s guardian, he’s internalised this idea of “with great power comes great responsibility” to the point where he throws himself at almost every responsibility because he thinks he has the power to fix it. He’s not conceited about it or anything, and will happily let others contribute to a solution.
But when push comes to shove? He’s not a team player.
The worst part is that he hasn’t recognised this in himself. He thinks he’s better than this- after 230 years he’s had over triple the expected lifespan for a human, double that for a lucky human, and twelve times the amount of time Augustin had. He thinks that he’s got most of the flaws in his character sorted out (not that he’ll admit it), but he doesn’t.
It’s hardly been challenged, though, because calling Captain Luna ‘egotistical’ feels wrong. Hero-worship aside, he’s just a nice guy to most people, and hardly anyone (with the relatively short amount of time they spend on Perpetua) recognises it in him except during moments of crisis.
Does your OC get lost easily? What do they do when they do get lost?
Damien’s sense of direction isn’t horrible, but if you only give them verbal instructions on how to get to a place, chances are they’ll get it wrong.
(“First…or second exit? Was it room thirteen or thirty? Sixteen? Fuck! Did they say Corridor B, or D? Upstairs or downstairs?! Where do I go from the ibis tapestry? Is this even an ibis? It’s not like, a heron, right?”)
If you give them a map or some visual way of getting to a location, they’ll have a much easier time.
How they respond to being lost depends on how much of their abilities they can use. Before the Wither King undoes the life binding and takes away their infinite magic stamina, they’ll probably just fly up to a high enough vantage point and orientate themself based on what landmarks they can pick out. God help them if they’re indoors.
Without any magic or outside help, they’re likely to pick a direction based on what information they have (however little that may be) and hope that they end up in the right spot (“It’s a sort of kinesis movement! I learned about this! If a flatworm can do it, so can I!”). The odds that they’ll start crying and throwing up increases the longer that this goes on, especially if they think they are late.
Realistically, could your OC (in their normal circumstances- i.e. at their own house/battlecamp/spaceship etc.) keep a small child alive for a week if they had to? A Dog? A Houseplant? A rock with a smiley face painted on?
Phobos could probably handle a small child. He won’t be particularly happy about the situation, but the kid will live. They’ll probably be exposed to violent video games, sure, or maybe traumatised by decades-old CGI, but no immediate danger except for watching him commit arson or something. He, however, will end up exhausted.
The dog is the happy medium in that it doesn’t need as much attention as a small child, but it’s enough of an active presence for it to not fade into the background. The dog will live, and he might actually have fun with it.
The houseplant is where things get dicey. There’s a good chance that he’ll forget to water it, or water it too much. The plant, being sessile, is dangerously close to being an inanimate object that he can just forget about. After a week, it will probably live. After two, you’re playing with fire. Any more than that, and just prepare for him to have gotten a replacement plant and claim that it’s the same one.
The problem with the smiley rock is that it’s hard to tell if you’re doing a good job at taking care of it. Avery would probably get on his case about either not feeding it enough sprinkles, or feeding it too many. Do rocks even like sprinkles? It’s quite a lot of sugar to be giving to a rock. Who knows, it might already be dead.
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Genuinely Impressive (Light Spinner)
The term "humanise" refers to a kind of anthropomorphising. To humanise is to give a thing human qualities like speech or pseudo-complex thought. For example, the transformers are humanised vehicles.
In a weird way, this is how humanisation in literature works. It is the practice of taking a fictional character, thing that is very much not a real human being, and giving them the complexity befitting a human.
Unfortunately, there is a pitfall to this practice. When writers try to humanise their characters, there is a tendency for these writers to accidentally redeem their characters in the process.
Disney's Maleficent and Cruella had a problem with this. While the later got retconned from megalomaniacal to empathetic, diminishing her villainy in the process, the former got turned into a full blown hero, a decision that I... actually liked.
She Ra and The Princesses of Power, however, truly excels at humanisation, and nowhere is this more apparent than in Light Spinner.
Let me explain.
SPOILERS AHEAD (She Ra and the Princesses Of Power)
I want to prefix all of this with the fact that humanisation to any degree is a really difficult writing skill. The idea is to engineer understanding, instead of empathy, and that is a deceptively hard balance to strike.
Making a character empathetic is easy, but it's a different skill entirely to know how much of that to do, and when.
In short, artists deserve credit for the tiny acts of brilliance just as much as for their feats of awe inspiring grandeur.
One thing that I noticed about this episode is that, to me at least, Light Spinner and Shadow Weaver are different people. Obviously they are the same individual, and there is some clear overlap between the two, but they feel like two different characters. As in, there are certain things that Light Spinner says that Shadow Weaver would never say, and vice versa.
This boils down to the idea of a character's centre. I have mentioned this before, but every character has a single element that is immutable about themselves, the thing that makes them who they are. If you would be to slowly change everything about this character, but leave this one element, they would still be the original person.
I think the difference between Light Spinner and Shadow Weaver is this centre. Shadow Weaver is cruel, and selfish, but Light Spinner strikes me as more ambitious and calculating. Obviously, there are shades of all of these in both characters, but these are the elements that are the most important to each person.
There is actually a moment in the episode where the characters switch, where Light Spinner is killed and Shadow Weaver remains, and that is in the ritual room. But to understand that, you need to understand the events leading up to it.
So, who is Light Spinner, and what elements of that are carried over into Shadow Weaver? Well, Light Spinner is ambitious, reckless, righteous, and... kind? I don't think kind is the right word, but maternal feels like a bridge too far.
Motivations are complex. Often, actions are performed for a multitude of reasons. My main reason for writing this blog, for example, is because I love She-Ra and stories like it. But I am also doing this because I need an outlet for creativity, and because I want to develop my own understanding of the writing craft. Complexity.
Light Spinner's dynamic with Micah is one of teacher and student, but there is obviously some affection there. Light Hope is amused by his antics, and pushes him to do better because she knows he can. She fuels his passion and it is clear he has a trust for her and feels safe in her presence.
However, there is also some of that ambition there. Light Spinner is written in this episode as a limit pusher who wants to do more and gain more power. It's heavily implied in this episode that she is using Micah for her own ends.
"You have incredible power.
And I'm the one who will mould that power."
So, we can add megalomania to Light Spinner's list of attributes as well.
On a side note, the oracle spell things have some of the best camera placement and shot composition in the entire series. So whomever is in charge of that in universe is the most skilled cinematographer on the planet.
I want to point out Light Spinner's motivation here. She wants to protect Etheria from the Horde. This is partly why I think she and Shadow Weaver are so different, because Light Spinner would never switch sides like she does, because she wants to save the world.
"Norwyn and those fools don't care about magic, they just want to hold the rest of us back."
Forgive me, but that wasn't the point of the spell. That wasn't a discussion about magic, it was a discussion about people's lives. Light Spinner has taken the complete opposite memo as everybody else.
This is where the megalomania fits in. Because Light Spinner wants to be in command, she wants to be a hero, and she wants control, as well as saving Etheria. The shift in character comes when that ambition supersedes her more benevolent motivations.
Can we please take a moment to acknowledge how incredible this shot is. Light Hope is framed against the oracle spell, backlit and viewed from below like she's a ruler speaking from on high. The circle around her head mirrors the halo around the heads of saints found in stained glass windows. Light Hope views herself as a messiah figure.
But look at what that halo is showing. Light Hope is divinely surrounded by death and destruction, and the loss of the black garnet. Even now, Light Hope's greatest weapon is her radius of fear.
I also think props need to be given to this shot, with all of its complete lack of subtlety. Light Hope seeks power, and she seeks the spell as an means of achieving that, so the spell covers her eyes, blinding her to reality.
"We need this power. It's the only way to protect our people."
Here's a question: Is this the only way? Light Spinner certainly tells us that, but we haven't seen any other ideas. The guild was meeting to decide what to do, and Light Spinner interrupted it, then stormed out. So maybe they decided on something better and safer.
She-Ra has another "it's the only way" decision, later on in the series, that being the planet destroyer that the first ones set up. Shadow Weaver jumps on that idea as well, but its notable that in both cases, there actually is another way to defeat the horde, and it didn't compromise the morals or physical wellbeing of its participants.
The golden rule in storytelling is "Show, don't tell", and this is a case for why I disagree with it. Showing an audience something makes them believe it, telling them something makes them skeptical. If you keep telling an audience something, but never actually show it, you can end up with a distrust for the narrator, and that is used very intentionally here.
Light Spinner tells the audience over and over again how good this will be, but we never see that good. We actually see the opposite.
Consider this: The Horde, over the next however many years, makes very little ground, and that is mostly due to Shadow Weaver's assistance. So maybe if she did the princesses, or if she hadn't absolutely shredded the mages of Mystacor, things could have gone better.
Which leads into the final domino that is set up for Light Spinner to change. Trust.
The mages of Mystacor do not trust Light Spinner's judgement, which leads to her believing her actions are futile for getting the admiration and respect that she "deserves".
Enter the Spell of Obtainment. And as a general rule, if you are in a fantasy story and you start conjuring something with too many arms and eyes, you are probably doing something wrong.
Also, this guy is dead, ponked into non-existence. A man dies, on camera, in a children's cartoon.
It is important to understand that this is a memory, and so the narrator is unreliable. From that perspective, Light Spinner was betrayed by Micah, and by the guild masters, and it got her killed.
But let's also look at what the spell would have done. Light Spinner insists that it would win the war, but doesn't reveal its actual capabilities. I think, judging from what the failure did, it would have focused power in on a single individual or two.
I think Light Spinner's idea of the ultimate spell was one that bolstered her abilities and made her into a super soldier.
So, Light Spinner died because of her megalomania and ambition. She wanted to be the one to save the world, and it cost her. People backed away because she pushed them too far, and she can't see that.
The person that emerges from the cosmic horror bubble is Shadow Weaver, and the first thing she does is kill someone, then bail and switch sides. The power is now more important to her than what she wanted to use it for.
The final scene of the flashback is the adoption of Adora, and it does a few things. First up, Adora gets thrown into Shadow Weaver's care against the latter's will, and one of Shadow Weaver's first lines in the entire series is this:
"I saw talent in you the moment I found you as an orphan child and took you in."
So... that was a lie, wasn't it?
But the scene also shows a hint of Light Spinner peeking through, because I think there is something maternal there, and it is entirely separate from kindness.
One of the theses of She-Ra is that there is a bit of good, however small, in everyone. And the point of this episode is that Shadow Weaver once had it, and may still have it, but has made the choice to do evil. Villainy is very much a decision in this world, you don't get born into one side, you make your own choice.
That's something that keeps coming up, especially with Catra.
Speaking of whom, there is a reason I have separated Light Spinner from Shadow Weaver.
"You remind me of myself. You always have. Nothing was ever easy for me either. I wasn't born to power like Adora and the others. I had to earn my power, fight for it. Why should it be any different for you?"
There is some narrative parallelism going on in this episode, but it is specifically not between Catra and Shadow Weaver, but Catra and Light Spinner.
Both characters are seeking respect, and find that taken out from under them, and both push their closest friends away. The stories are extremely similar, but there are two things to dispute about this idea.
First up, Shadow Weaver is doing some heavy projecting here. Once again, this is her memory, so the narration should be taken with a grain of sand. She was also trying to do something forbidden, while Catra is trying to follow orders to the best of her ability.
Second, Light Hope wasn't abused by the mages of Mystacor. Well, I guess she could have been, but it isn't even implied that this is the case, so do with that what you will.
I think Catra puts it best:
"I was a child when you took me in. What could I have possibly done to deserve the way you treated me?"
She-Ra as a whole does not shy away from discussion of the cycle of violence, and it is worth noting that Shadow Weaver perceives injustice directed at herself, and believes it is perfectly reasonable to take that out on a child. Yes, Hordak did probably use that anti-oxygen device on Shadow Weaver at some point, but she then made the decision to use that anger to bully a child.
Shadow Weaver's treatment of Catra in this episode is pure manipulation. There are hints of that maternal element, but they are being used to lull Catra into a false sense of security. She is falsely giving Catra affection to service her own needs. Notably, through the use of her touch, Shadow Weaver exhibits control over Catra's emotions.
AJ Michalka needs so much more credit than she has for her voice acting than she has received, especially in this episode. Catra's increasingly frantic pleas are so incredibly well realised, and the last scene of the empty jail cell is carried entirely by her acting.
This episode adds a ton of ambiguity to Shadow Weaver, as well as providing depth to her character. But it makes one thing abundantly clear:
As justified as you think your methods are, you are still responsible for the actions of cruelty that you chose to take.
Catra is close enough to Light Hope for the end result to be reasonably likely. Shadow Weaver is what Catra will become, if she does not stray from the path she currently walks.
That's why Catra's redemption arc is so compelling to me, because we know what is at stake. We know where that path leads.
Old. Bitter. Weak.
Final Thoughts
This episode is a technical masterpiece. The first rule of literary analysis is "don't compare a story to food or architecture", but I'm going to do that anyway.
The rest of She-Ra has a habit of prioritising the big spectacles and feats of brilliance. Each episode is a fully made cathedral with stained glass windows and a mosaic ceiling. This episode isn't that it's an incredibly well-designed fountain in a park, dedicated to an old friend. It is emotional and heart-felt, and mechanically superb.
Next week, I will be analysing Reunion, so stick around if that interests you.
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