#hats off to miss nora for coming up with this phrase

[lizandreil]

do y’all say “sunrise, abram, death” to yourselves a few times a day too or are you normal?

[littlemisssquiggles]

I remember this old tweet from Miles around the beginning of Volume 6 where he mentioned the pain of sometimes having to “kill your darlings” as a writer. Do you think that one of these “darlings” he was referring to could’ve been Oscar’s development between C8 and C9?

…Ahahaa I hope not, Miggy. Because if that’s thecase then that would imply that Miles, as a writer for RWBY, planned to NOTgive Oscar the proper development he deserved between those two episodes.

If the CRWBY Writers intentions were to nevergive Oscar the focus he needed especially after how they left off C8 I would’vemuch preferred if they had not given us that subplot for V6 and rather reserveit for another time when they can give it the focus it needs and deserves. 

‘…According to Writers.org, in writing, killing one'sdarlings means getting rid of the things you love themost. That line in your book that you think makes it seem unique and powerfuland strange, that scene that you feel really expresses the essence of what yourwork is about, the accent that you have given your main character that youbelieve really helps your readers see into their soul…

Yes, those are your darlings. So why do wehave to get rid of them? In reality killing your darlings has to be done wisely and somewhat sparingly. If you simplydecide to hit ‘delete’ on all the best bits of your book the chances are you’llend up with gaping holes in your story and, actually, some of the best bitsshould almost certainly stay.

What Faulkner meant was you need to let go ofthe bits of your writing you are holding onto selfishly. Those words, sideplots, characters or turns of phrase that you personally love but, actually, ifyou are being truthful, don’t really advance your story in any way.

You might, for example, have thought of akiller line that just perfectly sums up an emotion or scene, it might have cometo you in the middle of the night and you might have written it down with suchexcitement you couldn’t wait to get it into your story the next day...

However, when you tried there just wasn’t aplace for it, you wanted to make it fit, but it didn’t. It couldn’t work. Don’tforce something no matter how much you love it. If it is not meant to be inyour current story simply save it for the next one, and then let it go…’

According to this website, killing yourdarlings is something that should be done wisely to avoid any gaping plotholes. Oscar’s missing side of the story from C9 is more than an example ofkilling your darlings. In retrospect one might even argue that it’s a plot holewithin itself. It’s jarring for me rewatching C8 and C9 in succession, seeing Oscar go fromappearing completely depressed in one episode to perfectly fine in anotherwithout any sort of on-screen explanation to support this transition at all. 

 I will always chastise C9 and regard it as myleast favourite episode of V6 for how it handled Oscar’s development in hatepisode. If the Writers’ intentions were to resolve the conflict left behind inthe aftermath of C8 in C9, I wish they had killed off the darling that wasEmerald and Mercury’s scene in that episode.

When I look back on that episode, did theEmerald and Mercury moment really add anything to it? Sure it established some elements for Emerald andMercury’s story while providing us some insight into what’s next in Salem’splans for Atlas. However…when I think about this scene in the context of theepisode itself I honestly could’ve done without it.

I wish the Writers had cut out the scene withEmerald and Mercury and use their time to flesh out any progress for Oscar thatcould’ve been tossed into that episode. They could’ve had the entire focus on C9 be about JNR and Oscar. They could have still left in Jaune, Nora and Ren having their closuremoment at the Pyrhha statue with Jaune meeting Pyrhha’s mom (I think that washer mom).

As a matter of fact, when I first saw the leaflead Jaune to the statue, I was expecting Jauneto find Oscar at the statue. Like I saw itas a moment of Pyrhha’sspirit guiding Jaune toward Oscar. We could havehad Jaune find Oscar at the statue and have the two have their moment. Theepisode synopsis for C9 mentioned ‘JNR beingconflicted about what they would do if they found Oscar’.

Something that the actual episodecontradicted because JNR neverfound Oscar. It would have been interesting if JNR or atleast Jaune found Oscar curled up by the Pyrhha statue in the cold unsure ofwhat to do and where to go from there. We could have gotten Jaune trying toreach out to Oscar but him being too emotional and betrayed to talk to Jauneafter what transpired between the two last episode. 

Shit! We could have even had Jaune justify his frustration to Oscar whilefittingly showing him the Pyrhha statue. I would haveloved for a moment where Jaune just sitsdown and talks to Oscar about Pyrhha in front of her statue which would help explain to Oscar his anger and distrust to what helearnt regarding Ozpin. That could have been a nice sweet scene to see Jauneand Oscar bond before reuniting with Ren and Nora and eventually the wholegroup. Because at least that would have made more sense than having Oscarmagically reappear, acting like he didn’t run away at all and being all finewith everything.

What disappointed me the most about C9 isthat the Writers finally had an opportunity, an opportunity that they set up bythe way, to do that and rather than commit to it, they revert back to an oldhabit that they have always done with Oscar’s character up until his point. Tell but never show. Leave anything remotely resembling his growth handled off-screen. Not showingwhat transpired with Oscar’s side of the story in C9 was about the third timethe Writers have done that type of thing with his character. Speaking as a Pinehead, that’s aboutthree times too many.

I just…of all the darlings the Writers could havekilled, why did have to be Oscar’s focus episode in a season that teased thathe was going to be a focus for this volume.

Certain FNDM fam already consider Oscar to bemishandled and very poorly written in RWBY and V6 C9 only added more gasolineto that inferno that’s causing backlash for his character. Do you know how many negative things I’ve heard aboutOscar since his introduction? There are folks saying things like Oscar is aproblem. Oscar is overrated. Oscar is a Mary Sue/Gary Stew character. A meatpuppet. And the greatest insult of all, Oscar isn’t his own character, justanother body/skin for Ozpin to wear.

As someone whose favourite character in RWBY isOscar, believe it or not, I really hate seeing comments like that. But what’seven sadder is that I can’t even get butt hurt at the folks making these kindof remarks because in hindsight, have the CRWBY Writers done a good job atfleshing out Oscar in the series canon since his debut?

As a proud Pinehead who adores Oscar and seeshis potential and what the Writers COULD do with him, I have to admit that theyhaven’t done Oscar justice these past three seasons. Ironic because the same canbe said for many other characters in RWBY besides Oscar. 

I mean, just look atthe Ruby Rose fans who complained about her lack of focus and developmentbetween V4 and V5. And don’t get me started on the Adam Taurus stans who Icould still see fuming after how the CRWBY handled his story for V6 leading upto his final curtain call.

As a Pinehead, it annoys me how the Writers just never focus on Oscar. Even when the actualplot that they concocted themselves kind of demands of it, they just don’t. They don’t commit to it which often leads me toask the question what the Writers have planned for Oscar’s story.

I really want to try and remain optimistic and hope that Oscar’sstory gets properly fleshed out in the seasons going forward.  However following V6, I’m not sure how much expectations I’m going forward into V7 with. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have my Oscar-centric musings and Pinehead headcanons as much as the next RWBY theorist. 

Yet still, I’m kind of nervous tohope/expect anything from the CRWBY in terms of Oscar based on how he waswritten in the Mistral Arc. The Mistral Arc was supposedly our first insight intoOscar and his role as a technical hero in the story and even after three volumes, there is stillPLENTY left to be desired of this precious freckled farm boy.

I will admit that the Writers did not do agood job with Oscar for Mistral. V6 was a step in the right direction however, like I said, they need to dobetter. They CAN do better. It’s just a matter of when and how. The one saving grace of this misstep from the last volume is if theWriters are saving Oscar’s true on-screen growth for the Atlas Arc. There arelots of good ideas and subplots they can write for Oscar’s story for Atlas. Butagain, it’s what the Writers have in store and only time will tell with that.

Too many times have the Writers killed darlings in the midst of fleshing them out. Either they commit to their darlingsin the timeframe that they’ve set them up or they don’t do them at all whilepossibly saving them for a time they can commit to them. Part of the CRWBY Writers’problem and why some fans might be frustrated with the writing for RWBY thispart arc is that too many times, the Writers set up certain things giving theaudience the impression that they are going to develop it in some shape or form only to killit/squash it/never touch on it ever again.

In my opinion, that’s not really killing yourdarlings.  That sounds more like goinginto your story without proper planning and structure. RWBY Youtuber EruptionFang mentionedin his review of V6 that the CRWBY Writers seem to be figuring out the plot asthey go along and…admittedly, I don’t blame him for thinking that way becauseit does feel like that at times. Particularly in the third act of V6 from C8.

Rather than planning things out and goingaccordingly, things are figured out as they go and sometimes that could workswimmingly for the CRWBY. Other times, the odds are not in their favour.  Again, this is only my views on that. Feelfree to respectfully disagree with me if you will but that’s how I call it as I see it. No disrespectto Miles and Kerry as the CRWBY Writers. All I’m really trying to say here isthat they can do better because they are better and Oscar is an example ofwhere they can do better.

~LittleMissSquiggles(2019)

[the-nerd-writer]

Love, United- Chapter 1: Nuclear Wait

Guys, gals and non-binary pals... I’ve made a Fallout OC. I’m happy to introduce Elwood Rogers to the Tumblrverse. I was inspired by my friends @cyndercrys/@commonwealth-reactions and @vkm11​‘s Sole Survivor original characters, and was encouraged by G to make my own-- so I did! I hope you enjoy the beginnings of Elwood’s adventures in the Commonwealth.

Word Count: 1,304

Content Warning: Violence, Descriptions of Death/Injuries

The air was wrong. The sighs and whispers of the wind were alien, and the breeze was thick with humidity and heat. Elwood stared around the shattered wasteland before him-- his home town, now completely decimated. A tremble began to arise in his fingertips, still slick with the thawing frozen blood of Nora… oh god… Nora…

Codsworth was still around, thank goodness. That much Elwood had confirmed. After arising from the Vault and stumbling back into his neighborhood, he nearly collapsed onto Codsworth after finding him in the garden, trying his best to water the fried bushes. After a lengthy discussion and a night underneath his old roof, his old bed cracked underneath the weight of nuclear detonation, Elwood set out south towards Concord.

Nearby power lines still sparked with feeble electricity, the nuclear reactors never extinguishing after two hundred years. The concrete underneath Elwood’s boots was dusted with rubble and old plantlife, strewn across the street like tumbleweeds. Up on the horizon was the old Red Rocket gas station, the one that Clay and Daniel used to work at… had they made it into a Vault? Even if they had, they’d be dead now. Everyone else in Vault 111 except Elwood had been shot in the chest or head, their blood crusted to their decaying jumpsuits.

Nora had tried to protect Shaun. Nora had spoken up, risen up, tried to protect one of the most important things in your life, and you did nothing.

“No,” Elwood muttered to himself, unafraid of the rocks and rancid plantlife hearing his conversation with himself, “I couldn’t do anything. My mouth was practically frozen shut, for God’s sake. The chamber door was airtight.”

You didn’t even try. You wanted Nora to die. You wanted to--

“No, goddamnit,” Elwood practically shouted, “I… I loved her.” Nora Rogers. So goddamn smart. A lawyer who almost never lost a case. A mother who almost never complained. A wife who almost always communicated. And now… she was gone. Just like that. Her dark almond hair had sat haphazardly against her forehead, the distress in her mind giving way to the bullet in her chest, but the fear in her eyes instilled in one moment forever.

Past the Red Rocket gas station was a winding road leading back to the outskirts of Concord. It wasn’t the most interesting city, sure, but it was home… had been home. The town was sun-bleached, the red bricks and tanned oak finishing turned pale underneath the sky’s harsh glow. Windows were covered with dilapidated wood panelling and rusted nails… and there were bullets embedded in the walls. Bullets?

The unmistakable pop of a round being fired off echoed through the alleyways of Concord. The walls cascaded the sound throughout the neighborhood; then, an avalanche of gunfire sounded. Some shots were far away, while others seemed to be just around the corner. Elwood instinctively dropped down onto the mangy cobblestone walkway beneath him, his army training kicking in.

Another gun fight. Dropped from one time to another, and there’s still death spewing across the landscape.

Glasses just barely hanging off the tip of his nose, Elwood reached for his hip to where he used to keep his army-issued pistol-- no, wait. He wasn’t on the government’s battlefield. He was in a wasteland.

“Okay, Elwood, think…” The man muttered to himself, eyes scanning all around him. “Weapon, shield, barricade… something…” Only a rusted dumpster provided any solace. For a weapon, he’d need to enter the line of fire. The street closest to him had plenty of shade and enough cars to provide some temporary cover, as long as nobody got tricky and began to fire at the gas tanks. The tips of Elwood’s boots ground the pebbles beneath them into powder as he got up, his eyes focusing on a pick-up truck in front of him with either door missing.

“Breathe. Okay. This is just like back in the war.” Elwood reassured himself, peeking around the side of a building to scope out his surroundings before making a mad dash for the broken truck.

The lane in front of him was the main street of Concord, the Museum of Freedom still somehow standing at the end of the road. A brilliant flash of red light sparked from the second story windows of the building, leading to a bolt of energy ripping through the air and striking a man close to the museum straight in the chest. His body disintegrated with only a faint hiss-- fusion technology. It had to be. Elwood hadn’t used the technology before, but the distinct bwah of a firing fusion rifle couldn’t be mistaken. A few figures leaped out from behind cover, firing once more at the open windows with seemingly no success in hitting a target.

“Give up, ya fuckin’ idjits!” A man wrapped in metal armor yelped up at the museum. “All we want is the old lady. We’ll only give the rest of ya a couple of broken fingers!”

Okay. No reservations anymore. Go time.

“One… two… three… go.” Elwood sprinted out from behind the building, running towards the bed of the pick-up truck. He hoisted himself up over the bed’s door, landing with a thud and a small shake of the chassis. While he gazed at the battle some more from his refuge, Elwood’s hands rummaged through the rusted bed, trying to find something-- anything-- to use as a temporary weapon. Elwood’s fingers suddenly hit something large… a tire. Not preferable, but it’ll work. The man stood up, lifting the tire up so that it hung by his side. Then, with a jump, he landed onto the broken concrete beneath him. Elwood dashed towards the nearest figure, a man with what seemed to be a potato sack on his head, and hurled the rubber ring at his head. The tire hit the man with a dull thwack, disorienting enough for Elwood to leap onto his back and force him down onto the concrete divider he was using as cover. Elwood began to punch the figure in the back of the head, the enemy’s nose pressed against the top of the divider while Elwood socked him. The figure eventually stopped moving-- a faint rise and fall in the chest indicated to Elwood that he didn’t quite have to feel too guilty. Pulling the crude rifle from the man’s weakened grip and making sure it was loaded, Elwood began to fire upon the other assailants. The poorly-made butt of the rifle flaked off against his shoulder as he shot off a couple of rounds into a man with a pool cue wrapped in barbed wire. Another figure, this one seeming to be a woman, flicked out a silver lighter and ignited the end of a molotov cocktail, hurling it towards Elwood. Another beam of red energy shot from the museum window, blasting the cocktail to smithereens. Glass shrapnel flew in every direction, with a piece as big as a knife piercing the woman’s skull.

Silence. A low rumbling came from far underneath the road, but otherwise, nothing. Elwood rested the rifle against his shoulder, letting out a small sigh before wiping his grime and blood covered brow.

“Hey, you!” A voice called out from the window. Elwood couldn’t make out much, but a large cowboy-esque hat was unmissable. “Come up here! I want to talk with you.” Elwood glanced around at the battlefield around him, chuckling as he remembered the phrase that his dad used to tell him.

“War. War never changes.” His father would say, a solemn sadness mixed with an irritated anger.

“Nah, Pa,” Elwood always used to say, “That’s a load of bull. War didn’t use to have iron suits. Or guns. Or nukes.”

“Are you coming up here or what?” The voice called out again.

“Sure thing, man!” Elwood yelled. War does change... but people? People continue to surprise you.