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impalementation · 3 years

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spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 4

part 1: “When you kiss me I want to die”: Angel and the high school seasons

part 2: “Love isn’t brains, children”: Enter Spike as the id

part 3: “Something effulgent”: Season five and the construction of Spike the romantic

“But I can’t fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason.”: Buffy and Spike as a blended self

Before I get into seasons six and seven, it’s worth asking: why would the show do all of this? Why would it spend all of this time developing a supporting villain and joke id character? Why would it give him a romantic arc? I see people say that the writers only gave Spike these storylines because he was popular or they wanted to keep him around, but even that being the case, there was no need to give him the specific arc that they did. It’s more than possible to read meaning into the story that they chose from the array of possible options.

Here is the thing about the id. It’s not actually something separate from you. It’s not a ravenous monster you can blame your weaknesses on while remaining pure and dignified. The id is part of you. The immediate and enduring appeal of Spike is, I suspect, strongly influenced by the fact that the things the id wants are so very human and sympathetic. His foibles and mistakes are often painfully familiar, even exaggerated through vampirism as they are. In fact, it’s precisely because Spike is allowed to show a full range of reactions to love, because the writing is under less pressure for him to do the “right” or dignified thing, that he can at times be compelling in ways other characters can’t. If Spike just did nasty things, his appeal wouldn’t be much more complicated than the appeal of Angelus, who people tend to like as a villain or storyline rather than as a relatable character. But Spike doesn’t want to dismember nuns or construct elaborate murder tableaux. He wants familiar things like love, identity and meaning, even if the ways he goes about getting them can reflect people’s worst impulses.

Which brings us to Buffy, and Buffy’s story about growing up. Buffy is Buffy’s show, which means that every writing choice tends to revolve around her arc in one way or another. And this goes for Spike’s storyline even more than most. In the final three seasons of the show, the writing finally engages with how inextricable the id--and all of its impulsive, inarticulate romantic desires--really is from a person’s self. So instead of keeping Spike at a comfortable distance, both Buffy and the writing begin to take him seriously. They begin to invite him in.

Starting in season five, it’s telling how frequently Buffy herself projects on Spike, rather than just the writing setting them up as mirrors. She tells him that he’s the “only one strong enough” to protect her family, and later assigns Dawn specifically to his protection. In “Spiral” she describes him as “the only one besides me that has any chance of protecting Dawn.” This is a very intimate role that she otherwise only assigns to herself (and which is not really based on pure practicality, considering that she’ll later describe Willow as her “big gun”--yet never gives Willow the task of protecting Dawn). She tells him that he cannot love, which is the thing she fears most about herself. Her protests that Spike is a vampire, and thus cannot express or want human things like love, mirror her lamentations that as the Slayer, she cannot have a normal life.

From the Gilliland Gothic double essay:

More than any of her other lovers, Buffy and Spike overlap one another so often that at times their character arcs become nearly indistinguishable. With Angel, Buffy traveled a parallel path in attempting to master self-control. With Riley, her journey ultimately took her in the opposite direction. With Spike, Buffy’s journey is most closely shadowed, in that her interactions with him in many ways can be seen as metaphors for her feelings about herself.

So now Spike is multiple things. On the one hand, he’s the soulless id he’s been since season two. His vampiric behavior represents a morally uninhibited way of reacting to romantic frustrations, among other things. But on the other hand, his vampirism now also marks him as like Buffy, not merely her opposite.* Nor is he only her mirror in the realm of romantic love. The part of him that is a vampire is the part of him that is supernatural (ie, Romantically larger-than-life), that sets him apart from regular people, and dictates how he can and cannot behave. Just like Buffy’s slayerness. His vampirism is what makes him capable of protecting Dawn, while also making him (supposedly, according to Buffy) incapable of human feeling--again, just like Buffy’s slayerness. Instead of Buffy’s Slayer side being aligned with Angelus, who was an unmitigated evil, it becomes aligned with Spike, who is something more complicated.

*(Though it must be noted that this was a process that began in season four, with the show aligning Spike with the Scoobies by making him a victim of the Initiative. Spike being supernatural suddenly marks him as non-normative, just like the Scoobies, in contrast to the institutional conformity that the Initiative represents. The evolution towards treating the Romantic supernatural as something positive and associated with identity plays a key role in transitioning the show to the more complicated attitudes of the last three seasons.)

This shift in the show’s attitudes towards the id affects how Spike is used. In “Blood Ties” for example, Spike assists Dawn in breaking into the Magic Shop and in “Forever” he helps Dawn resurrect her and Buffy’s mother. In both cases, Spike could be read as embodying impulsive behavior that Buffy is supposed to be better than. Yet both cases specifically involve Spike helping Dawn, who is repeatedly portrayed as Buffy’s human side. As Buffy says in “The Gift”: “[Dawn]’s more than [my sister]. She’s me. The monks made her out of me. [...] Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I--”. In other words, Buffy’s id becomes closely tied to her humanity, even going so far as to become its safeguard. “Blood Ties” ends with Buffy affirming her connection to Dawn, which Spike’s rule-breaking directly enabled, and “Forever” ends with Buffy acknowledging how desperately she wants her mother back too, and becoming closer to Dawn as a result. (Compare to “Lovers Walk”, where Buffy acknowledging her id results in her breaking away from Angel, not drawing closer to anyone). Or in “Intervention”, Spike building the Buffybot directly parallels Buffy’s own anxieties about what she thinks she should be. She thinks she’s losing her ability to love, and that effusive fakery is her only recourse (as she said in “I Was Made to Love You”: “Maybe I could change. [...] I could spend less time slaying, I could laugh at his jokes. I mean men like that right? The joke laughing at?”), a fear that even has some merit, given that her friends cannot tell her and the bot apart. Instead of Buffy and Spike having separate arcs in the episode, Spike learning the difference between real and fake dovetails with Buffy’s own relationship to her realness and fakeness. It turns out that neither of them want a bot version of Buffy. They want real emotion, things like sacrifice and heartfelt gratitude. If even Buffy’s id would let itself be killed for Dawn, then maybe she has nothing to fear from herself. Maybe there is some beauty in the emotional part of her nature that she thinks she must repress.

In other words, part of the writing (and Buffy) fully engaging with romanticism and the id, means engaging with the ways they can be bad and good. There’s this weird thing that happens with Spike as soon as he falls in love with Buffy, where suddenly his actions are more uncomfortable, and to many, off-putting, because their object is Buffy (instead of another vampire like Harmony or Drusilla, who either enjoy the same vampiric things he does, or the audience might be inclined to see as a moral nonentity regardless). His comic id quality becomes somewhat darker and more serious, almost like the way Angel’s early season two darkness becomes more serious after he loses his soul. But at the same time, Spike’s actions are also more intriguing, sympathetic, and even noble...because their object is Buffy. It makes no sense that a soulless vampire should not only fall in love with the Slayer, but genuinely attempt to transform himself into someone worthy of her love. And yet that’s exactly what Buffy inspires him to do. By loving Buffy Spike’s dual nature, and the dual nature of his romanticism, is thrown into relief: it’s something that can be selfish and creepy, yes, but also something that hints at the idea that real romanticism does exist. Something worth feeling romantically about does exist. Thus the writing can at once criticize, say, the way the chivalric mindset conflates love and suffering, while also suggesting that there are kinds of love it’s worth being transformed by. (Meanwhile, Spike’s fumbling bewilderment over how to love Buffy, and what the rules of loving people correctly even are, creates a human middle ground between monstrousness and heroism). By leaning into the way that Buffy and Spike have been used as mirrors for three seasons, and introducing the mythology-bending idea of Spike being in love with Buffy, the writing is able to fully engage with this complicated, contradictory nature of love and romance.

All of which is to say. Spike becomes a potential love interest, and is given a convoluted inner conflict between monstrousness, humanity and heroism, in precisely the season in which Buffy begins to reckon with her own inner conflict between her darker impulses, her human reality, and her supernatural role. It’s no coincidence that season five opens with Dracula, an icon of romantic vampire mythology, tempting Buffy with darkness and promising her insight into her nature. Or that a vampire kidnaps Dawn--again, her human half--in the next episode. Or that the season’s antagonist is a super-strong blonde woman who wants to destroy Dawn instead of protect her. Or that she says goodbye to Riley, the boyfriend who embodied her hopes for a more normative way of being (notice how Riley is progressively destabilized by everything non-normative about Buffy’s life, and provokes those anxieties Buffy expresses in “I Was Made to Love You”). Over and over in season five, Buffy fears that her Slayer half is cold, destructive, and otherwise dangerous. That these Romantic things like gods and vampires have it in for Buffy’s vulnerable humanity. Yet Buffy’s vampire id simultaneously gives lie to these fears by proving itself capable of heroism and genuine human feeling.

In other words, Spike becomes a potential love interest in a season that treats the Romantic--ie the grand and mythical--as something more than just an attractive lie to be disabused of. Rather, the question that season five seems to posit to me, and which will not be fully answered until the end of season seven, is this: once you do clear away the attractive lies, once you accept the hard realities, once you’ve seen the darkest underbellies, what are the things that are left that are truly grand and beautiful? What are the stories that are really worth telling, and the heroes that are really worth having?

And the show asks and answers these questions on both a very personal level, and a more meta, systemic level. On the personal level, Buffy and Spike are forced to confront their illusions not just about the world, but about themselves. They are made to ask themselves what constitutes a heroic role or a demonic weakness, versus basic, unromantic humanity. And on the meta level, the show asks questions about our expectations for how both love stories and chosen hero stories are supposed to go.

part 5: “Everything used to be so clear”: Season six and the agony of the real

#romanticism series #gen #s5 #buffy #spike #riley #btvs

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jyndor · 3 years

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I’m rewatching the Puppetmaster for ~research~ and ugh.This is such a good episode but I cannot stand the treatment of Hama and also Katara’s special bending ability. And I’m gonna talk about it because I can’t help myself. But I also want to offer a solution maybe something that the writers could have done instead. Granted I’m a white US American so while I am about to talk about imperialism, anti-indigenous racism and racialized misogyny, I am coming from a position of privilege here and ymmv. It’s important that we as fans (especially white fans) acknowledge the things that our favorite stories can do better so that we can make our fandoms safer for everyone.

And btw fans of color have been talking about this so I definitely am going to be quoting some phenomenal bits of critique I have read on here. Also you should follow @shewhotellsstories and @visibilityofcolor for anti-racist fandom commentary.

I am also going to talk about grooming, so just be aware if that is a trigger for you.

I. Hama as a Campfire Horror Story Monster

The episode starts out with the Gaang camping in a creepy forest telling ghost stories to each other. Set to spooky music, Katara tells a story about something that happened to Kya, a friend named Nini (likely) dying in a snowstorm and then haunting her family’s home as a ghost. Immediately after, Toph hears people screaming under the ground - and then Hama finds them and invites them to her inn.

Every so often, Hama says something spooky with the spooky music playing. Katara immediately takes to Hama, but the others (especially Sokka) find her pretty unnerving. Katara says she reminds her of Gran Gran before Sokka starts snooping around and finds a bunch of puppets and a comb from the Southern Water Tribe. It’s the standard horror movie fakeout.

Every so often we get an artfully placed hint about Hama’s agenda - pulling water out of thin air, showing Katara that “plants - and all living things” are made of water. And oh yeah, she makes herself ice claws. Cool skill, but in the context of the episode, a little more unnerving.

The “moon monster” that Old Man Ding mentions, the alleged Moon spirit, turns out to be Hama (of course) and the tension builds to a peak as the Gaang rush to save Katara from the “dark puppetmaster” that has imprisoned the villagers.

Meanwhile Hama and Katara stand under the full moon washed in spooky cool lighting with an ominous breeze around them. You see Hama practically transform into a monster in a way sort of reminiscent to a werewolf - her fingers become claw-like, her veins pop out. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it’s a coincidence that as she reveals her true agenda, she becomes less human in appearance. Which... okay I’ll get to that later.

While I can’t say that Katara fits the Final Girl trope very well, I do think it’s interesting to note that horror movies often do feature women as heroes who defeat the monster/killer/whatever and usually the Final Girl is used to allow audiences to experience the full horror of the villain, which absolutely is how Katara is used here. Yes, her friends come to help, but she saves everyone in the end (my queen).

So here’s why that’s bullshit.

Framing Hama as a horror story monster make sense when you don’t think about the Implications of framing the indigenous woman POW living surrounded by people who have benefited from Fire Nation imperialism. It does - it’s a common trope: the reclusive witch who first seems kindly to some lost/wandering children before revealing her true intention - to use them for her own purposes. Yeah, I know they’re playing on Hansel and Gretel. But yeah, I’m gonna call bullshit on that too - drawing on a c*nnabalistic witch for inspiration when you’re writing an indigenous woman character is probably not the way to go.

II. Hama the Puppetmaster* and Groomer

A puppet master is obviously a puppeteer, and Hama has puppets (creepy though they may be). But in terms of the underlying meaning, she’s a chessmaster, an Emperor Palpatine/Dick Cheney kind of master manipulator who works mostly through other people. What most people would consider a psychopath (in layman’s terms). When her friendly mask falls, she is terrifying.

She is cold, calculating, manipulative as fuck - she isolates Katara almost immediately. Hama uses Katara’s desire to connect with her culture to groom her to become a weapon. It’s actually such a good example of grooming that it has to be purposeful:

Targeting a victim - Hama hears that Katara and Sokka are from the SWT. She also hears Katara tell a story about Kya. To Hama, a waterbender from her own culture is a hell of a target.

Gaining trust - Hama reaches out to Katara in particular, is especially kind to her, gives her individual attention that the others don’t get. She prepares a SWT feast for them and tells the Gaang about her heritage when they go snooping.

Filling a need - so once Hama has given Katara reason to trust her about waterbending, she promises Katara to pass on SWT waterbending heritage that only Hama knows. She fills a unique need of Katara’s.

Isolation - From then on out, we don’t see Katara with the rest of the Gaang until the end of the episode. Hama seems like a normal teacher but she does start to drop little hints, pushing Katara very gently to see how she will react to her real agenda and desensitizing Katara to what would otherwise seem unacceptable coming from someone else who hasn’t established that unique trust. “You’ve got to keep an open mind, Katara.”

So this would be the point at which Hama would make sexual contact but this is metaphorical so that obviously doesn’t happen. What does happen is Hama pushes Katara’s limits. She makes her pretty uncomfortable with the idea of killing the fire lilies for water, but when Hama appeals to their shared history of marginalization she gets over it.

Maintaining control: Hama makes her final move, which is obviously bloodbending, and reveals her true agenda - and when Katara refuses to manipulative living beings’ blood, Hama violates her bodily agency. And not only this, but she pushes Katara into bloodbending when she victimizes the Gaang, fully realizing her control.

Hama sees it as a victory, and telling Katara breaks down at the end in one of the most emotional scenes in the show. She feels like so many of us have felt at some point: violated, betrayed by someone we trusted. And then they never really deal with that.

I actually think that’s the point of The Puppetmaster, especially given ATLA being a show for children. I think it’s supposed to be a metaphor for csa.

And... okay.

Undoubtedly it is important to send these messages to kids. And yes, people usually are victimized by those closest to them, by those in their own communities. But not indigenous women. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but according to the National Congress of American Indians, Native American women and girls are more likely to be sexually assaulted by non-NA men. 57% of cases are perpetrated by white men. Not the people in their communities.

Choosing to tell this story with an indigenous woman POW (who very likely would have been victimized herself lbr) is a choice that I find really aggravating. When writers tell stories with a Point, it is incredibly important for those writers to understand the implications of what they are saying about the characters who they are using to make that point.

Like I’m not saying don’t make that point, or don’t use Katara (who would in real life be at a higher risk of sexual violence than the others) to make it, but why make the perpetrator someone who is statistically unlikely to be Katara’s abuser? I’m not sure I have a good answer to that question. My guess is, like with making Hama animalistic and about as unsympathetic as it gets, the writers just had blinders on about the cultural implications of what they were saying.

Not even considering the whole victimizing-the-“innocents”-of-the-Fire-Nation-town plot, Hama’s not a good person. This is probably because she was driven mad by the need for revenge, which, eurgh okay, but still it’s very apparent that she is not interested in winning over Katara’s support directly or honestly.

* also the antisemitic history of this trope hmm.

III. Hama and The Victims of Genocide Victimizing Oppressors #NotAllFireNation

Okay. So this is the part that I think annoys me the most because it’s so bad. Like, imagine for a minute that you’re a white guy and you’re gonna tell a story about a victim of genocide who is completely divorced from her culture and homeland, and furthermore is an escaped prisoner of war who has radicalized in prison - okay it just hit me, I know what they MIGHT have been going for, like maybe some kind of anti-Gitmo statement? But that didn’t happen. People who were stolen away from Iraq and imprisoned illegally in Guantanamo Bay, and who were released after being detained illegally, haven’t really shown any real radicalization. They’re pissed at the US for victimizing them, but like that seems pretty fair considering so many of them did nothing wrong.

That’s been the US government’s excuse for not releasing innocent people who were detained illegally. The idea that prisoners of war radicalized in Gitmo so they can’t be released because they’ll attack the US is propaganda. I’m not saying it hasn’t happened, but that’s where it comes from.

Considering the time period ATLA was written, considering how much of it was inspired by the US wars of aggression and imperialism, considering how political ATLA is (and why it was so popular during its initial run - during the years that Bush lost a ton of popularity) I think if that’s what they were thinking about, that’s not great.

But for all of Avatar’s good messaging on imperialism and war, it’s still written from a white US American mindset. Well surely I’m not responsible, surely you shouldn’t imprison and abuse me, a random white girl in the States. It’s my government, which I cannot control because of two-party politics or some shit.

So first off, that’s shitty because oppression is often about systems, not individuals. Sure we need to always consider the individual experiences of people who are victimized, but the people who are benefiting from imperialism? Me? Fuck if I care if someone in El Salvador or Iraq or Chile or idk any of the countries we have meddled in, let alone from a marginalized community in the United States, hates white US Americans for what our government has done - and that’s even silly because white US citizens support our government. Like we think the institutions are sound, although sometimes we don’t support the guy in charge. We think the cops are going to help us, even though that isn’t really the case.

Why frame it about what she’s doing to the Fire Nation civilians at all? Why make Hama the villain? I don’t think they wanted her to be unsympathetic, I mean they tell her story and I don’t think anyone would conclude that it doesn’t justify her desire for revenge, but why tell this story through a victim of genocide?

Recently I saw a post by @sunkin-akh where they point out that Hama basically quotes Malcolm X:

I was literally just watching the Hama episode again and I just noticed for the first time that while forcing Katara to bloodbend she says that they must fight back against the Fire Nation (and she used this exact phrase) “by any means necessary”, which is Frantz Fanon’s phrase popularized by Malcolm X during the Civil Rights Movement (iirc). They directly compared Black liberation to Hama’s evil acts and it disgusted me.

The full context:

Hama: The choice [to use bloodbending] is not yours. The power exists. And it’s your duty to use the gifts you’ve been given to win this war. Katara, they tried to wipe us out, our entire culture, your mother.

Katara: I know.

Hama: Then you should understand what I’m talking about. We’re the last waterbenders of the Southern Tribe, we have to fight these people whenever we can, wherever they are, with any means necessary.

I find that so appalling because it is framing resistance, specifically anti-racist resistance, as barbaric and monstrous. And given the way that Hama is portrayed at this point, about as inhuman as anyone in ATLA, that is extra gross.

Finally, after Katara defeats Hama, she is lead away by the authorities in CHAINS.

So now the FN cops are the good authorities who we’re gonna trust a SWT waterbender with? I mean she’s a villain so we’re probably not supposed to feel bad for her, like yeah sure the FN is usually bad but she’s a criminal so it’s okay that they take a POW back into custody.

No, no, no.

I know I am reading into this far more than the writers intended - but that’s kind of the point of critically engaging with media. Because shockingly writers don’t always question their choices - they are people and have implicit biases just like all of us. When those writers come from a privileged culture that has colonized the culture they are using as “inspiration” for their story, they need to be extra mindful of how they represent those people.

IV: How To Write Hama

Well, I’m not gonna talk over indigenous fans on this one on specifics, and you should read this rewrite by @kispesan but my thoughts generally are:

lose the horror framing it’s just not right for this context and this character

don’t frame Malcolm X as a villain because that’s nasty and racist

have Katara learn to use bloodbending in ways that she is comfortable with (and not just like once in one episode where she’s extra vengeful and the hero of the show doesn’t approve of her actions JFC) and don’t make the dark-skinned girl the only character whose special bending skill is dubious (I know she also has healing but still)

bring Hama home

have indigenous people in the writers room

Anyway, I’ve gone on wayyy too long. Let me know if I am speaking out of turn please if you feel that I am. and I’m sure I had other thoughts but if you want to read some other good pieces of Hama meta, I’ve listed some below:

post and another post by @marsreds

this post and this post by @visibilityofcolor

this post by @shewhotellsstories

anyway katara is a queen and should have been allowed to heal, and hama never should have been irredeemable because if you can make iroh redeemable, if the show was going to redeem AZULA, you can make hama redeemable.

#hama #racism #atla fandom #fandom racism #katara #some amazing people on here who i hope don't get mad i mentioned them #grooming tw #racism tw #i sure hope i remembered everything i wanted to say butttt

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crazyasacupcake · 3 years

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We Go On

Okay so this isn't Haikyu!! (I'm sorry...), but in September I will be taking part in a readathon created by Book Roast on youtube - the Orilium: The Novice Path Readathon. I thought of this scenario while listening to the playlist I had made for this readathon, based on my Earthling character Treya, and I hope that I've written it well. The characters and story are mine, but the world and species (Earthlings, Iltirian, Skaimorn, etc) belong to Book Roast. If anyone else is participating, best of luck on the path!

Warnings: some gore

Word Count: 4124

It’s like there’s a threshold, a moment in time or space which separates the Ruins from everywhere else she’s been so far, even though there is nothing really distinguishing it. Even if there isn’t a visible border – a visible line that says she shouldn’t cross, that she should go around, that she should turn back and go home – she feels it the moment her foot falls onto the land inside the Ruins. The ground is dead, but saying that would imply that it was ever alive in the first place; it’s grey and covered in a crust of ash, despite there being no volcano or sources of fire anywhere in the nearby area.

Her skin prickles, and not for the first time on this quest does she think about going back, back to the Inn, back to Cabbage, back to Aela – back to clearing tables and only practicing her element when she’s hidden by the blanket of night. This time, it’s not a longing pang that is telling her to forget the quest. It’s desperate, animalistic, with screaming alarms echoing over and over inside her head telling her to turn around and forget everything you saw here. It’s as if her entire body, her entire subconscious is on alert ever since that first footfall into the Ruins, it’s like she’s seeing herself from somewhere else, but she knows that’s not possible. She squeezes her eyes shut, holding them closed so tightly she sees starts swirling around the blackness, and when she opens them everything is normal again.

You need to get through this as fast as possible.

She fumbles as she pulls the map from her pocket, the same map that she had snuck from the Elves table in the Inn that day… how long ago was that now? She can’t remember, she can’t think, she can’t remember what Cabbage looks like, which makes her breathing quicken like someone much larger than her has grabbed her torso in their hands and squeezed – squeezed until her rips popped and her heart burst – because how can she not remember what he looks like?

To ground herself, she grasps a fist full of her cloak where it rests over the left side chest, the buckle over her right shoulder just like Aela had taught her so many years ago. She wraps the old fabric around her fingers, fisting it so tightly she’s afraid she’ll set it on fire – her fingertips are already starting to smoulder just the tiniest bit and she forces herself to calm down. She brings the cloak to her face, burying her nose into it and taking a deep inhale. It smells like the Inn; it smells like smoke and ale and the lavenders that Aela leaves in her room every couple of weeks, it smells like the same cheap, sickly soap that she uses to wash Cabbages hair, it smells like the air surrounding the Library.

It hasn’t been that long. It hasn’t been that long.

She waits until her heart slows, until she can’t hear the blood pounding through her ears, before she straightens up, suddenly remembering that the map had fallen from her pocket. It lays on the ground, it’s thumbed corners blowing slightly in a non-existent wind, and as she crouches to pick it up, she spots a figure standing in the rubble of the old temple. They’re shielded by half of a fallen column and the darkness that surrounds it, unmoving. They’re stood very awkwardly, one shoulder held much higher than the other, as if one of their legs was abnormally short, and she can’t tell whether they are facing towards her or away from her.

She picks up the map, cringing when the ashy ground crunches beneath her shifting weight, but the person – or thing as she would prefer to refer to it – doesn’t startle.

Maybe it’s dead.

According to the map, it should be a straight route through the Ruins, but the scrawled note beside the drawing makes her skin crawl.

Three steps forward and you’re not sure if time is linear, or if things you see are of this dimension.

She swallows, folds the map back up, and slips it back into her pocket, making sure the clasp secures properly before she begins. Each step seems to echo forever, the blinding white-grey fog swallowing it in the distance before sending it back to her, as if it’s trying to communicate. The further into the Ruins she walks, the more things she sees, hidden amongst the rubble or shrouded by the ever-present mist, each one unmoving, each one more unnerving than the next. Some of them are stood with their backs to her, some with awkward gaits like the first one that she saw. One of them was laying in the middle of what she could only assume was a collapsed house, his toes facing up towards the sky.

This one she stares at for a moment, and she is reminded of a time when she was younger, when her temper got the better of her far too often, when she would run away from the Inn at least once a month, always being dragged back to Aela by an Iltirian, a scowl on her face and flames in her eyes. The last time she had attempted to run away, the one time she didn’t need to be dragged back to the Inn because she had ran back on her own, she had seen a man laying in an alleyway near the Library, the toes of his boots pointed towards the sky. A human, a traveller – the kind they didn’t get many of in Darkmeadow – his mouth unhinged and his eyes wide, his hands claws at his throat. Her stomach had lurched, splattering her dinner over his boots, before she had stumbled blindly back to the Inn, her new shoes covered in her fear, her fingers smouldering and sparking.

She doesn’t feel that fear now, only looks on with her mouth set into a line.

Fear makes you stronger.

That person didn’t manage to create the same heart-stopping panic she had felt when she was younger, but the next one does.

They are sitting upright facing away from her, and from the angle she’s approaching at, she can see one of their legs stretched out in front of them. When she passes, she feels her breath stop dead in the middle of her chest, and as she tries to scramble backwards trips over her own feet, landing heavily on the ground behind her, her sword making an awful clang that seemed to make the already still surroundings even stiller.

The other leg is missing, not a clean cut or a healed one – it looks as though it’s been ripped from their body, dislodged at the hip and torn away without care. The skin is ragged and black with decay, and yet it still bleeds thick black blood onto the ground surrounding it. She watches the blood drip down in strands, sticking to itself even when it hits the puddle. Their hands are gnarled, not unlike the hands of the body she had found when she was younger, only the fingertips on these hands are blacked – not in the same way as the ripped skin of the hip, but in the same way as her fingers get when she gets too angry, setting alight and staying that way for too long.

An Earthling.

Of course, she would’ve noticed if she had followed their arms more, would have seen the bright red marks that had adorned her skin since the day she turned ten, but her attention was too focused on the Earthling’s face, or lack of one. Where the face should have been, was a crater like hole, also dripping that same stringing blood down itself, and she is reminded of the time she had found Cabbage leaning over the balcony, letting gobs of spit drop onto the people leaving the Inn. He had turned to look at her with wide eyes and the faintest beginnings of purple spots, the string of spit dribbling down his front in the same way that the blood is dripping onto this things ruined tunic. There are shards of bone protruding from where the eye sockets would have been, snapped sharp by whatever it was that had attacked them.

There’s nothing nearby that could suggest a possible weapon, and it made her ears ring with the realisation that this probably meant that the attacker had taken it with them, and was potentially still prowling through the Ruins for the next victim.

Get through this as fast as possible.

She pushes herself up, wincing at the pain from her now cut palms as she puts all her weight on them, and goes to step around the body, before noticing a piece of paper fluttering weakly inside a pocket on the Earthling’s jacket. She digs her nails into her ruined hands to stop them shaking, quickly pulling the paper away without lingering near it for too long.

Across the top of the paper is the same flowing script that she had seen every day since leaving the Inn. The Novice Path – the words still distinguishable despite the blood that had gathered on the edges of the page.

They were going to Orilium, too.

She doesn’t think on it for too long – she can’t afford to worry about it – instead dropping the map back beside the body, continuing forwards at a faster pace than she was before.

After about five minutes, hearing the whistling of the fake-wind through the Ruins many arches and alcoves, she becomes aware of another noise: a scraping stumble, as if someone was struggling to climb across all of the rubble, dragging their feet and digging up crusts of ash with each step, landing heavily as they tripped forwards. She doesn’t turn around, even though her skin prickles, because there is nothing here to be afraid of, this place has been dead for centuries, there is nothing in the Ruins that could possibly mean any harm to her.

It’s probably just another traveller on the Path, one that isn’t well acquainted with walks like this – maybe from Daerune.

“Treya.”

It makes her stop, not freeze, just slowly stop. It was as though the word was whispered into her ear, as if they had said it stood right beside her and not from however far back they really were.

They. He.

She turns, her mouth still that same stoic line – the same line she had managed to hide every emotion behind when Aela told her she needs to control her temper – despite the way she wants to scream and sob and drop to her knees and run towards him all at once.

Cabbage stumbles over another dislodged piece of ash, longer than his own legs, and lands with his hands outstretched in front of him, a little oof leaving his lips as he hits the floor. He looks up at her with watery eyes and a wobbly lip, and she forgets everything to run towards him, dropping in front of him and not caring about the noise she makes in this decaying place. She hooks her arms under his and pulls him into her, pressing his head into the crook of her neck, her nose in his still baby-soft hair, her tears dripping onto his skin.

She underestimated how much she would miss the two of them, her fake-brother Cabbage, and her boss – and also her sort-of adoptive mother – Aela. She thought of how difficult it must’ve been for Cabbage’s ten year old body to have to endure the trek, to have to follow her through so much, just trying to find her.

“Hi, Cabbage.” Her voice is harsh from days of no use, scratching her throat and coming out not sounding like her at all. “What’re you doing here, hey?”

“Aela told me the Skaimorn had taken you to be their ward instead – said that they needed a mean-tempered girl like you – and I didn’t believe her, not one bit, because why would they want you as a ward when I was right there! I followed you, saw your cloak as you were leaving, so I followed you all the way out here, but you’re so fast and I’m not tall yet so I couldn’t keep up that well.”

She runs her hand down his back, sniffling to herself despite her anger at him being so stupid as to follow her to Gods know where. “This was very silly of you, Cabbage, you should’ve stayed with Aela. She’s probably worried sick about where you are.”

“She’s not, I know she isn’t. Let’s go home, Treya – please. It’s so scary out here, I don’t like it.”

She keeps rubbing his back, and she suddenly frowns, moving her hand towards the top of his back, to the space just under his shoulder blades where the first nubs of his wings should have been. She remembered him running into her room with a grin missing a front tooth as he had launched himself onto her bed, proudly jutting his thumbs behind him towards the start of the bony spikes that would one day become a beautiful pair of wings.

Cabbage’s back shouldn’t be this smooth.

She pulls away from him, smiling, hoping he doesn’t see that it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and cups his face with her hands. She rubs at his cheeks with both thumbs as he keeps talking, and she notices how his eyes are just the slightest too wide, his hair just the slightest bit too dark, his nose just the slightest bit too crooked. The spots on his skin aren’t the bright shade of purple they had been the day before she had left, but instead a sickly dark yellow.

“Or – Treya, we don’t even need to go back to the Inn at all! We could stay right here, couldn’t we! It’s pretty here, and I bet we could even build our own Inn, just like the one back in Darkmeadow!”

She curses herself for dropping her guard, for forgetting the old lessons – to not take anything at face value, to pay attention, to never let her feelings get the better of her, to always be on the offensive.

“I’m sorry, but you and I both know I can’t do that.” She doesn’t refer to it with Cabbage’s name, because it is not Cabbage. It is not her sweet fellow ward who cries with excitement every time a Skaimorn enters the Inn, it is not the little boy who followed her around like a stray puppy, even when she glared at him with her burning eyes.

It is not Cabbage.

And as soon as it registers she knows, her fingertips pressing harshly into it’s skull that’s wearing Cabbage’s face, her mouth back into that line, her eyes dark with black fire, the act is dropped. The wobbly lip disappears, the eyes become lidded as it stares at her with a bored expression that doesn’t fit Cabbage’s face at all; it’s the expression that makes her fury spike, the fact that this thing is tainting Cabbage’s image with an expression of disinterest and annoyance, and she longs to dig her nails into the skin just before its ears and just rip it off.

Her hands are already beginning to heat up; she can see the smoke coming from its skin in thin ribbons. The wrong coloured spots begin to muddle, rippling across its skin, flowing across the surface like water.

It still speaks in Cabbage’s voice, the boredom drawling his words and smearing them together. “Fine. Let’s try it my way, shall we?”

She ignites, her fingers burning with the type of heat that she can’t feel, that she’ll never know the true power of unless she sees it. The skin bubbles, warps, dripping off the skull in gobs as the hair catches, swallowing its face in a blaze of red and yellow. It doesn’t scream, doesn’t give any indication that it’s in any kind of pain, but even if it did she wouldn’t have cared. She wouldn’t have stopped, would’ve only pressed her palms further into its face as she is doing now, not even unnerved when its cheekbones crack and fizzle, not even when its blood splutters and hisses.

Only when there is no remnant of Cabbage left, when his baby-soft hair has burnt to ash and his skin lays in waxy puddles surrounding her, only when she’s staring at the blackened skull does she let go, letting the body fall backwards, looking not unlike a doll dropped by a child who longs for a new, more enjoyable plaything. She doesn’t lurch, doesn’t cry, only stares on with the same lidded eyes it had stared at her with, a smirk playing on her lips.

Look how powerful you have become.

She wipes her hands on the things tunic, longing to unbutton it and take it because it doesn’t deserve to lay there in a crude imitation of Cabbage’s ward uniform. She doesn’t because she has the feeling that as soon as she leaves the Ruins, as soon as another traveller enters, the thing will merge into someone else, trying to convince them to stay forever too. Rocking back onto her feet, she continues, now hyperaware of every slight noise, every piece of rubble dislodging and falling down a pile, every creak and groan as the old pillars are battered by the not-wind, every gasping breath and scratchy yell.

At those, she turns, at the same time surprised and unsurprised to see masses of bodies making their way towards her. The one that had panicked her, the one missing a leg and a face, dragged itself over the ragged ground with it’s clawed hands, being overtaken quickly by others, among them the first one she had noticed with the awkward gait, which she saw was because it was missing the bottom half of one of its shins.

It wasn’t so much fear that got her heart pumping, but annoyance and frustration. She set her feet, drawing her sword with her right hand and spinning it once, twice, three times, her brows furrowed with determination. Her hands were still hot, but she didn’t allow herself to let go yet. They had to get closer – the closer they were, the bigger the explosion, the more could be taken out. She tried to count them, gave up when she realised they were moving too fast for her to be able to not count them twice.

“Going in blind,” she murmurs to herself, shifting her cloak so that her right arm is just a bit freer. “The old way.”

She doesn’t even register the first one. It’s as if her body moved on it’s own, as all she registered was it dropping onto the floor beside her, sliced up the middle, it’s head split into two and leaking black blood onto her boots.

The second one she registers because it dodges her first swing, lunging at her from the other side, but she is nothing if not prepared. She raises her left arm, unleashing an inferno in the things face. Even if it doesn’t feel the pain, it catches it off guard for long enough for her to detach its head. It snaps at her heels with rotten teeth, and she brings her boot down with a crunch, not caring about the sudden silence of the thing.

The majority of the mass is almost upon her, the main body that she was waiting for, and she sheathes her sword back at her side, her lips turning up in a grin.

She cracks her knuckles, presses her fingertips together in a mockery of the prayers they used to do to the Old Gods when she still lived in Irtheria, her palms not touching, her fingertips barely kissing. She was proud of this display of her raw talent, a party trick that was unsuitable for most parties, something she had coined herself in her more rebellious years.

This is going to be fun.

Her lips part in a wild grin as they fall into the right distance, which she knows from many sleepless nights of practice, challenging herself to find her maximum distance – but also her maximum destruction.

She doesn’t need to say anything, she just needs to will it, and for once she thanks herself for having such an untameable temper that required her to let of steam more often than most her age.

The ground erupts, catching the middle of the crowd in a column of fire as wild as the hair on her head and the smile on her face, her eyes flashing with the same bright flame. She doesn’t bother to hide her excitement at the carnage, doesn’t care if she looks crazed because it worked.

Some emerge from the blaze, their clothes and skin alight, their features melting in the heat, eyes popped and dribbling down their faces, continuing to advance upon her without any need of their sight.

Time to go.

She spins, sprinting as fast as she can towards the boundary of the Ruins, towards the Falls. With each footfall, another burst of flame splits the ground on either side of her, her control waning as her heartrate increases. The normally tame flames on the ends of her hair grow, licking their way down her back, catching her cloak with their damning kiss, igniting a section of it to her dismay. Still, she doesn’t stop, whipping her head to the side to dampen the flames enough for them to not be damaging to the one thing she cares about.

As she runs, the cloak billows, the flames extinguishing – to her relief – leaving only a gaping hole that travels from the middle of her bicep to her elbow. It’s better than losing the whole cloak; she can deal with a hole. She doesn’t stop, the gurgling behind her enough to spur her despite the pain in her legs, despite the sword clanging harshly against her with every step, despite the fact that the boundary of the Ruins seems to be the edge of a cliff.

It doesn’t look this way on the map, but she knows from listening to the Ilterians in the Library that maps can lie just as much as men can.

If she stops, they’ll kill her. But if she continues, she might kill herself.

The Path is not impossible if you listen to its warnings.

They wouldn’t send you into the Ruins just to die.

She takes a deep breath, giving herself that last push, that last burst of speed to get just far enough in front of them to take the leap, her arms pinwheeling, her legs still moving as she falls before she angles herself so as not to paralyse herself on landing.

The drop is not as deep as it had looked from inside the Ruins, ten feet at most, and her landing is mostly softened by a thick layer of underbrush that has been creeping out of the forest and began its ascent up the cliffs face. She rolls off heavily, landing on her back on an old dirt path, her chest heaving and her vision blurring as she talks to the Old Gods for the first time since she was ten, thanking them for giving her the strength to survive, though she knows that she alone is the cause of that strength.

Only when she sits up on that small path, only when she looks towards the cliffs edge and sees the creatures gathered and staring down at her, unable to follow past the boundary line, only when she is certain she is safe (from that task at least), does she let herself scream.

She screams until her throat is raw, then screams some more, clutching at her chest with her left hand, fisting the black fabric of her shirt as her voice breaks from anger and pride and that thin layer of fear that she has finally allowed to crest the surface.

For a moment, she just sits, panting, her mind spinning, her fingers smouldering. She thinks about turning back now, finding a way to go around the Ruins and back to Darkmeadow, collapsing in the doorway of the Inn and holding the real Cabbage close to her as she whispers her apologies to the both of them. It would make the most sense to turn back now, with how close Deaths fingers came to grasping her around the throat and dragging her down with him.

But she stands, brushes the dirt from herself, and starts down the path, her mouth set and her eyes lidded.

We go on.

#Orilium #Orilium: The Novice Path #Book Roast #BookRoast Youtube #Magical Readathon #Fantasy

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amazingsphelon · 4 years

Photo

08/31/2020

Hello again guys! For todays episode I’ll be posting multiple follow up individual OC art characters from my Gijinka Pokemon series.

Link of the original previous post:

Gijinka Pokemon 1st 4 Update

Gijinka WIP Update:

Gijinka Sketches (1st Post)

**Oh yeah my apologies for not being around in a week, had to polish up Melody alot. One reason why I got delayed.

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Next here we have.....Princess Melody, the Majestic Princess Milotic.

**The sketch above is my 1st sketch of her around 2014, her design is much very different from the way I drew her present appearance

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Melody - The Milotic **Also known as Princess Melody and has a Kingdom

somewhere **similar to Asia and Island Regions

Age: 19

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Attacks: She has a wand which she can perform additional movesets and also enhances her water power skills entirely and she prefers more on kicking btw.

Ice Beam/Water Pulse, Surf, Aqua Ring, Aqua Tail (Kick), Blizzard, Hydro Pump

Human Fighting Style:

Water Magic **(similar to Azura from Fire Emblem) + Polynesian Taekwondo

Origin Similarities: Polynesian, Asia and Unspecified European Region *perhaps celtic??

Likes: Sigmund her Lover (Salamence), The two trainers who went on her adventures (I’ll introduce them soon, their base on Ruby and Sapphire though) Peace and Serenity, Harmony and Beautiful thoughts, her beauty (which she’s honestly and modestly proud of), Magical massages, manicure and pedicures, her proud vigorous and strong graceful legs which she use for kicks especially and Ocean Life.

Dislikes: Chaos, Insincere People, Her strict father King Raidos (Gyarados)**she still loves her father despite his strict personality, Lightning and Electric Base attacks, Her powerful gifted and strong but yet very fragile feet **She’s at her most despair when she feels this very severe pain.

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When I was redesigning her I had to base her on Azura from Fire Emblem alot (since both are from Nintendo) and believe me designing her on my imaginative creative scope is very hard that I had to add additional details around.

**New drawing left and old drawing right

and in a class she maybe base on princesses that are born in the hierarchy near the surfaces body of water, much like the legendary Atlanteans.

Below are some of her early redesign sketches *** her personality is largely based three characters **including a 4th one maybe... Ah My Goddess- Belldandy, Lacus Clyne from Gundam Seed and Euphemia Li Britannia from Code Geass. the 4th one actually your stereotype Princesses of the Seas....

Overall she has a very gentle, warm, kind hearted and impartial loving attitude **even those who are wicked, she still shows kindness unless she’s harm she can without hesitate to attack her enemies when there’s no other options left. and without hesitation will always show courtesy **said to be gotten from her mother when she was young .

Describe by many as incredibly beautiful among many **including outsiders like Raid and Naiya. she is often the center of attraction among her kingdom, admiring even by her rivals and admirers for calling her bare body legendarily voluptuous from head to toe. And with a beautiful and non-benevolent personality she has, she is said to be very approachable in all ways around that she is very caring and open to all, regardless of whoever she faces.

Besides that she’s also a pacifist, she values the lives and happiness of the people around her much more than her own, and always desires to make everybody happy no matter what the cost is to herself. **even sparing her foes on dire situations. While many see this part of her personality as being one of her more endearing qualities, it has also driven her to disregard her own feelings, thus making it difficult for her to voice her own thoughts when she believes it would cause strife for other people. As a result of this, she is easily upset and incredibly fragile when experiencing negative emotions. and with her position as a Princess of her Kingdom, she is willingly never hesitate to show charisma, strong will and determination in order for her to lead example for the sake of King Rydus (her father)’s people.

As much as her story goes besides the Kingdom around her and her strict father, She happens to be a priestess of her own, inherited from her mother. She vows herself to be always take courage and be kind no matter the cause as taught by her mother.

One day, while she was performing tradition priestess practices on her in a temple somewhere beneath their kingdom alone with her subordinates, she stumbles upon two lost human teenagers (at the age of 13, 14 or 15) who appear to be not from this world (maybe from another fantasy dimension based on their appearance). The guards never hesitate to take the two unworldly kids with them for the two are being mistaken as intruders to their kingdom but with Melody being compassionate of the two young warriors bids to her father’s wishes to spare them and understand their curent situation and to be part of their kingdom as a citizen in the meantime. In good results, she manages to free the two from capital punishment and imprison and thus making the two to be part of their kingdom as low rank civilians. Because of how humane the two show themselves in front of Melody and her kingdom, she easily became friends with the two and vows to the two to seek for an adventure to send them back to their own worlds.

**Those two kids are named Raid (male) and Naiya (female) I’ll introduce them soon should I find time on this.

As much as her concept goes, she’s willing to go for a battle when she’s left with no other options but to fight and defend. With her skillsets mentioned aboved she’s that of a keep away fighter who sometimes will use projectiles to blast foes away and shiver them with her water skills, she can also heal herself (Recover) and heal herself more with her wand equipped and on the other hand, if she’s then struggling with foes who go close on her, she is very luckily skillful at combat, and once she find a worthy opponent as or more powerful than she is on her current state, she will eventually show her hidden powerful trump card skills not often shown to the public eye, the strength and skills within her beautiful, graceful and powerful feet and legs (AQUA TAIL)

**Princess Melody performing Aqua Kick (Aqua Tail)*Dive Kick

she can also throw kicks at the same time cast water splashes that damages multiple foes around (This is the Pokemon move Surf), With her Surf+Aqua Tail Kick combination along side her polynesian taekwondo skills, she can perform a wide range of powerful kicks to sway foes away and the strength on the soles of her feet alone are capable of destroying granite and limestones at her fullest potential, even knocking out foes in one hit at their toughest moments.

This is thanks to her gifted ability of the “Mythical Birth Mark” fragments she received on birth located on the two soles of her feet. Princess Melody calls this her own blessing and a curse, on the saddest drawback though when you received a mark like this, it’s also going to be your shared weakness as well. She is easily crippled should her legs, especially where her “Mythical Birth Mark” is located, sustain enough injuries she can faint with just one heavy damage direct towards her weakest yet very strongest feat and will be over for her should she gets careless herself on the battlefield. At one point, one electric human pokemon struck a THUNDER move directly towards the ground, and with the surface being too wet all in all and with both her feet planted on the ground, it directly struck her towards the mark knocking her out badly in just one move. This is where she easily shifts her attitude on dire situations to cry easily whenever she feels lost and despaired.

*Melody performing a sample of her close range kicks

Also with her staff around, this is given by her Mother, an ancient artifact staff that allows her to access more into the power of water (like TMs/HMs) and increases her STABS on certain heights and being able to bend ease with surrounding water and gaining aquatic energies. This staff however is inherited on the priestess practices of her mother (who is also a Milotic) which is traditionally used for cultural and spiritual ceremonies.

**Melody’s iconic friendly excerpt pose when she’s taking a sit.

That’s all I can say and introduce on this attractive princess for now. Also the fishes she owns on her kingdom around her are very known to get allure from her and often kiss the soles of her feet for they also not admire her attractive body but more of her personality.

Later in the series early on, Raid gets separated from Naiya and Melody and thus the two search for him eventually meeting Blare, Aedris and Aeshi Company thus making allies and friend among the adventurers.

CIAO!

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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You know what I think is funny, fandom loves to throw "the animation and writing teams don't work together" as a reason we can't read into different things happening onscreen (Which regardless, that's really stupid, since acting/animation/intonation of the lines/etc can impact the way the story is perceived). But they're also the same ones talking about how the animation is showing the little love things between Blake and Yang and other small tells we see that shows the team hasn't changed much.

This is a problem with all analysis and something that everyone is inclined to do (simply because we all have our opinions and we all want to be right lol). At its most basic, it’s pointing to certain events in a story as proof of an argument while simultaneously ignoring other events that disprove it. We see this all the time when people discuss characters they like/don’t like: you’ll either get a list of all the good qualities or a list of all the bad, with the “analysis” refusing to engage with that other list. Once you move past that roadblock - once you train yourself to consider everything in the text, even when it’s frustrating - you get more complex readings. The stuff that says, “Yes, on the surface it looks like this character has all these bad qualities too but we need to take context into account as well. Like the fact that when they did this Bad Thing someone was blackmailing them into it whereas they did this Good Thing of their own accord.” Or, “Yes, this character has a mix of Good and Bad qualities so maybe we should be acknowledging a more nuanced reading of their morality rather than insisting ‘They’re the devil’ or ‘uwu they’re a baby who did no wrong’” The purpose of analysis is for the text to drive your argument, not for your argument to drive the reading of the text. When something doesn’t fit well you need to take that into account and re-evaluate your thesis. You don’t ignore/twist that wrinkle in an effort to maintain the argument you first started out with. Which is why you analyze the text first and come up with the thesis second.

Now yes, apply all this to the animation issues. We cannot simultaneously say, “Aspects of the animation prove that Blake/Yang is becoming a thing” as well as, “It doesn’t matter if we saw Clover wink at Qrow. That’s meaningless.” Authorial intent does have some bearing on how we read this, in that we’ve gotten confirmation that some animation choices - like Oscar running down the hall before punching Neo - were mistakes, but in order for that to fully drive our reading of the show as a whole we’d need confirmation regarding every single piece of animation. Did you mean for Ren to look sad in that scene? Were Blake and Weiss supposed to exchange that glance? Is it a mistake that this character rolled their eyes or was that, unlike some other things, intentional? Unless we get a comprehensive list of every animation choice - which we will literally never have for obvious reasons - analysis must function under near absolutes: either the animation has meaning or it doesn’t. Pick one and stick to it (though preferably pick the former because, as you say, of course our visuals impact the reading of the show. They were always supposed to!) You cannot say that the animation choice is full of meaning when Ren and Nora cast loving glances because you adore them as a ship, but then claim that the animation choice to have Yang, Weiss, and Blake draw their weapons on Qrow is meaningless because you don’t like the idea of the girls doing something awful and having to grapple with that. Anything else is just the behavior of the first paragraph, emphasizing the things you like because they support the arguments you also like, while failing to either a) acknowledge these other aspects at all or b) explain how they don’t actually undermine your argument like they appear to at first glance. That’s why I acknowledge the ramifications of Ironwood shooting Oscar. It doesn’t matter how much I hate it, it exists in the text and needs to be taken into account (work a). It’s likewise why I explain in detail why arguments about the Ace Ops losing aren’t persuasive. They initially look persuasive, but poke at them a bit and you’ll see all the holes (work b).

For the record, this stuff is really hard. There’s a reason why we take classes in analysis. There’s a reason why you study for 6+ years before you’re considered good enough to start publishing papers. These trends - particularly ignoring parts of the text or trying desperately to twist them into something that fits your original argument, rather than revising the argument to fit the evidence - are all mistakes that everyone makes when they first start analyzing things. I did! And those mistakes will seem very persuasive to others who don’t practice analysis enough to recognize when they - or others - are repeating those trends. Which is how you end up with posts arguing non-persuasive or even nonsensical things but are praised extensively. You have to learn how to spot those mistakes and learning how to avoid them is even harder. It’s not just a skill but a kind of mental fortitude. In order to produce persuasive and compelling analysis you have to be willing to potentially chuck your argument in the bin at any given moment. It’s a lot like science that way. Oh, something just disproved our theory? That sucks but we can’t ignore this new evidence just because we spent years chasing something else. We can’t allow personal desires to overcome facts. (Though that’s not to say the chase was wasted. The mere act of working through “wrong” arguments is an important part of hitting on the “right” ones.)

For the record, this kind of difficulty with critical thought/rhetoric is the same reason why dangerous bigotry like “Getting vaccines will give your child autism” or “Accepting trans people will lead to women getting attacked in bathrooms” take off. Those are both arguments, but the people consuming them often don’t know how to work through the evidence provided to decide if that argument is persuasive - or even know to look for evidence at all. They stop after reading the statement, taking it as an automatic fact, just like a newbie writer in their Freshman high school course may write out a thesis and think that’s it. What do you mean I have to prove it? What do you mean my proof is subjective, unsubstantiated, and is ignoring other pieces of evidence? It’s not proof at all? Oh... It gets particularly difficult when you chuck in the sheer complexities of most political situations and add in a dash of learning that the mere existence of some evidence (“evidence”) doesn’t automatically outweigh all the rest. A perfect example being:

Don’t be that woman. But all that takes time to learn and it requires the ability to admit you were wrong. Sometimes about small things (“Oh yeah, I forgot that happened!”) as well as about incredibly massive things (“Shit. I’ve been basing my identity around this inaccurate concept and using it to hurt many, many people...”) Both of which are needed to create compassionate human beings who, by default, are not born knowing All The Things Ever. Thus, this is why analyzing “stupid” shows like RWBY isn’t the useless activity that many would prefer to paint it as. If you can learn how to critically engage with what people say about your favorite show, you’re developing the same skills needed to critically engage with, say, what the president is currently tweeting about...

ANYWAY, that’s a bit more of a deep dive than the ask probably meant to produce. But here we are :D

#rwby #rwde #mymetas #Anonymous

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tigerwolfproductions · 4 years

Photo

To save my followers from an onslaught of separate pics, I’ve decided to compile my miscellaneous Phantom Phoenix works into a single post because A Lot happened. =P

(Info about each pic is under the readmore)

1+2- Top ten photos taken before disaster (aka, Danny didn’t know he needed to tell Phoenix that it’s not a free for all game where the last one standing “wins”).

3- A scrapped title card idea for the plot where Danny and Joker fuse. I decided that while I really like the body horror angle, there were a couple of problems with this version. Them being things like how it wasn’t “actiony” enough to work (the title cards often featured something “happening”, such as a character outreaching their arm or Danny running away from a figure). I’m not sure how I could make it so that both Joker and Danny face towards the screen (another staple; I’ve only found one title card with a character facing backwards and it was Livin’ Large) and have it feel like there was movement at the same time. That and I felt it wasn’t nearly horrific enough; some of the actual show’s title cards are just freaky man.

4- just some practice on Akai/Phoenix bird nerd

5- I recalled @shinyspooks and some others coming up with a plot (though not necessarily for the Phantom Phoenix AU but ya know) in which Danny’s parents have found a dangerous artifact/treasure from the Ghost Zone that they plan on studying- one that multiple phantom thieves have set their eyes on. So in order to keep himself from going mad in trying to stop a dozen thieves from breaking into his house to take it, Danny decides to take it first. The one issue being that because his parents are ghost hunters, it’s entirely too dangerous to do as Phantom with all the anti-ghost measures up and running. So Danny enlists the help of Joker (who gets something in return for helping; and if not the treasure, perhaps some Fenton tech?) to learn how to become a phantom thief ASAP in order to take it first. They mentioned Danny picking a terrible name to use and I was wondering what he’d pick that would make for a goofy reference to his being Danny Phantom. And then I remembered… Invisobill As for the design, I went with Danny’s non-inverted jumpsuit because he probably has spares to use as a human, he was on short notice, and orange would have been too suspicious. He’s added some tech both for the heist, and Just In Case ghosts happen, as well as some goggles and a bandanna to hide that it’s him (he was also asked about “being obsessed with jumpsuits” by Joker, to which Danny responded, “You got a problem with jumpsuits?”) (Sam made him the logo btw)

6- The Box Ghost gets on both Danny’s and Akai’s nerves with far too many appearances. Even taking turns shoving him into the thermos isn’t doing much for their tolerance levels.

7- I remembered Dani existed a while back and instantly began debating just what might happen with her in the Phantom Phoenix AU. I’m not sure if having her become an apprentice for adopted by Joker is the best move, but it was certainly the one that gave me the most warm fuzzies! (Joker gets super attached to the smol sassy ghost girl, Hachi gives her lots of food, and Danny doesn’t exactly know if he should feel okay with Dani learning how to become a Phantom Thief. Akai wasn’t around when Dani first showed up, and Danny forgot to tell him about her, so when Akai discovers another human/ghost hybrid is living with Joker he just HAS to show Danny because “wow that’s so cool and Danny would think so too!”)

(Joker and Hachi found her on the Sky Joker after a heist. She had taken a rest unknowingly on the airship, was discovered, and it was a rude suggestion from Joker to just kick her off over the ocean that got him berated by Hachi (Joker would have regretted it later anyway)).

8- The double edged sword that was the definitely-not-adoption. Because Dani is using less of her energy and getting plenty of food, she destabilizes a lot less quickly. Unfortunately when she does start melting, she tries to hide it for as long as she can so she doesn’t worry Joker and Hachi… which just makes things worse. Eventually she winds up collapsing in front of them and both can’t figure out what’s wrong with her so they agree that Danny would be the best help they could get (poor beans felt so bad). Of course Vlad still attempted to get his clone back and the Valerie stuff still happened too. But now there’s an addition to the event in which Joker publicly embarrasses human Vlad at a conference with a completely over the top prank after the fact (Hachi fully supported this decision, for once).

9- I for one, am split on whether or not I like Danny having ice powers or not. They feel a tad more gimmicky than his other powers, but at the same time. They’re just so cool. Regardless, if he were to develop them in the Phantom Phoenix AU (maybe it’d just be without the Undergrowth ordeal), Akai wouldn’t be very happy with the sudden amount of clinging Danny would do to the Nearest Warmest Object (him).

10- Phoenix may not be a ghost, but his species carries enough similarities for ecto weapons to affect him. The Fenton Thermos just kinda sticks to him though (he doesn’t like it, Tucker took a video, and now the group teases Phoenix over the assorted bird noises he made).

#kaitou joker #mysterious joker #kaitou joker au #danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny phantom fanart #akai tsubasa #dani phantom #artists on tumblr #fanart #art #digital art #crossover #au #crossover au #comic #humor #a tigerwolf production

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modmamono · 4 years

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Why Space Channel 5 is one of SEGA’s best dumbest games ever, no questions asked. (Report 1 & 1/2.)

Space Channel 5 on the Dreamcast is one of my favorite things ever, let alone favorite video games. Though I more often watch it on YouTube then actually play it.

For those not in the know, Space Channel 5 is a game series developed by United Game Artists and published by parent company SEGA. And that’s the most Wikipedia quoting I’m gonna do in this gush piece.

There aren’t many games quite like this rhythmic, Simon says game. At least in style because this game has that in spades, the gameplay anyone can do. And I am not at all qualified to explain its style because I wouldn’t how to describe it as besides maybe very 70s?

Point is there’s something charming about this game, and I think SEGA agrees with me on that. The lead character, Ulala (seen above), appear in these games to name a few years after new Space Channel 5 games stopped being made after 2002:

2004: Sega Superstars

2006: Sonic Riders

2008: Sega Superstars Tennis and Samba de Amigo

2010: Sonic & Sega All-Stars Racing

2012: Sonic & All-Stars Racing Transformed and Project X Zone

2015: Project X Zone 2

And not to mention the invading aliens have been skins of the titular Puyo Puyo in that series for a while I can’t determine. Possibly since at most 2007 up until current day with Puyo Puyo Champions in 2018/2019.

ALSO not to mention the VR game that came out recently! (How could I forget that? That’s the main reason I’m doing this.)

So it is clear SEGA loves this game and it’s sequel a lot. I don’t think their most beloved cult classic NiGHTS: Into Dreams gets that much love from the company though it certainly does get a lot itself, most games wish their parents still loved them that much long after they had a game. Anyway...

Now the part where I actually talk about the game.

I wanna say, first and foremost. This is not a review of the game. This is just gushing about why this game makes me happy.

And everything I’m gushing about is just what you get from the from one playthrough of the game. Save for one exception, I will not be talking about supplementary material, nor Space Channel 5′s lore.

And yes, this colorful dancing/rhythm/simon says game has lore. Basically any non-repeated character model has their own biograph. So I will not go into that.

You’re not missing too much, there are interesting tidbits, sometimes they fill you in on background details of the story.

Speaking of the story. I’ll start in a second. But if this is new to you, you can watch it here first (The first playthrough is only half the video):

youtube

Prologue:

We start off with a bunch of alien sitting on a space couch watching space TV. These aliens are known as the Morolians and they’ll be the main antagonists for the evening.

This cutscene has no dialogue, so this is all open to interpretation for a first time viewer. Though I do enjoy this split second foreshadowing:

And that’s when the title screen appears. Blasting you with the series’ main theme Mexican Flyer. Look it up if you must. You’ll be hearing it a lot, it’s the game and Ulala’s leitmotif.

Report 1: This is terrorism attack on an airport... I’m gonna ignore that.

This is the only piece of supplemental material I’ll talk about, as it’s present in the game itself, but not elaborated on, and it is important to two of the character.

The game starts in a flashback. In the year AD 2489 a spaceship exploded. Everybody on board died safe for a little girl.

She was rescued by a man working for Space Channel 5. A news organization that with a specific focus on dancing. That last bit is nothing special though, as everything in this galaxy revolves around dancing.

After the little girl is saved by this kindly Channel 5 Gent (Age 25) she knew what she wanted to be after she grew up. She wanted to be a sexy dancing reporter for Space Channel 5 just like him (presumably). And to meet him so she can thank him in person.

10 years later......

It is AD 2499! And the Morolians attack a space airport and their ray beams hypnotize people to dance silly.

THE HORROR!

And that’s when Space Channel 5 sends in Ulala to report on the progress.

But what they’re actually doing is for Ulala to solve the problem instead of the Space authorities.

One character I do wanna mention now is that Ulala’s producer, Fuse, is an unseen character yet is important later. He’s the one briefing Ulala in the screenshot above. And oversees Ulala’s every move.

Also Ulala never got to meet her rescuer. He either left shortly after Ulala got rescued, or shortly before Ulala joined. Given what we learn later, likely the former.

Anyway onto the show:

BAM!

BAM!!

BAM!!!

I will always love that. Ulala got down on the ground in the panicking space air port to coolly report on the panic.

As quick aside, I wanna mention that Ulala doesn’t run in this game, she slowly struts and all of her struts are simply majestic. And those amazing struts lead her to the first gameplay section of this game.

Some Morolians hold a few hypnotized people hostage. This is is a dance battle. Meaning you got repeat exactly what the aliens do in the exact rhythm they did it in order to save the hostages. And I love this gameplay. It’s simple yet fun (provided you got minimal lag, you should look into that if you wanna play this game).

The controls are:

Up: Up

Down: Down

Left: Left

Right: Right/Light

Button 1: Chu (Aliens)

Button 2: Chu (Humans)

And this is how normal people settle things in this world apparently:

Party 1 (usually the Aliens) make up a tough but fair pattern for Ulala to copy in the hopes of psyching her out.

Party 2 (Ulala & Co.) gets as many chances ad she got. And the better she does more people tune into her news report. If she wins she gets what she wants. Saving the hostage and getting Party 1 out of her hair.

Every single one lives by this code of honor and I honestly have no clue if there’s an in-universe reason. But I love it regardless. I love it when people say: Up Down Chu Chu Chu. And the Ulala repeating it.

Though frankly, I don’t like it when the Morolians issue the commands. I like it when others do the exact same commands in this same game, so it’s a little bit of a bummer the Morolians do it.

Anyways. You save the hostages and they join in on Ulala’s unstoppable strut as will always happen if you rescue people. And they strut to the second gameplay type: The Shoot-out.

The controls are the same as the above but now you gotta watch out for humans in the mix.

In general these are trickier. And I might go into that later. But they do work on the same rules.

Don’t worry I won’t go over every dance or shoot-out unless there’s something special about it.

Also I’m pretty sure you kill people if you push the wrong Chu. Don’t do that, it’s bad for the ratings!

Skipping over three battles.Something new happens, rival space news station: Space(?) Channel 42 has a reporter of their own out on the field. And that reporter is planning to steal Channel 5′s viewership. And this is HER!

You do a dance battle and she dies.

Though seriously, I like this game does this. It’s not only aliens you fight, but other factions of the Space News Media. And it’s always a nice shake up when someone besides her shows up.

You see, for the most part any reoccurring enemy has recognizable mannerisms you gotta batlle, and her is no different. It’s hard to describe for me. You kinda gotta play or watch the game for yourself to see what I mean, but I think it’s best exemplified in Report 2. And the following games.

Though one thing’s for sure, each non-normal Morolians or rival reported does bring their own genre switch with them. Heck sometimes even normal battles have unique genres. I’m am not musically inclined so I wouldn’t know hers or most others.

Any way, before she dies she give an emotional speech and gracefully suggests to take her Channel 42 guitarist with her and Ulala accepts that’s the least she could do for a lousy reporter like her.

And then it’s boss time!

Yeah, actual bosses with actual boss characters. And not like the recently deceased as shown above. She’s practically for all intents and purposes another Morolian dance battle.

And it’s down to funky jazz music, not unlike what you’d see in Sonic Adventure! Even Ulala comments on it, confirming it’s dietetic Where does it come from? Not sure, there might be an explanation somewhere. But do keep that in mind. That the music we hear is also the music the characters hear as well.

Anyways:

Not Pictured: Super Stretchy Arms.

I think it’s a bit of a misnomer. Invader is correct, that’s what it’s here for. But is it really a robot? It moves like an organics and is a bit rubbery. This basically goes for all Morolian robots.

I can suspend my disbelief. You shouldn’t nitpick too much about Space Channel 5, it doesn’t want you to think too hard about it’s world even if there’s a lot to it. I’d be concerned if Space Channel 5 did wanna put its story and world building first and foremost.

But “Hypnotized Robot Invader”?

What?

Spoiler.

Robots and hypnotism... I’m pretty sure a sign that we made perfect human-like Artificial Intelligence if they can fall susceptible to Hypnosis. Even then I doubt it.

Sorry, that’s always bothered me, I get what they mean by it. It’s just the word choice... Did they mean Hypnotizing Robot Invader? This boss is great.

It starts off with a normal dance battle, but you get to watch a new Morolian enemy’s moves. It’s also quicker on the draw along with a few softballs to throw your timing off. Pretty good stuff.

And that applies to the next phase as well, where the the shooting starts.

I don’t have much to say.

Unlike the robot’s final phase where it’s the first phase again, but with guns and the robot goes to berserking speeds with the input commands.

And after you beat it, it joins you in a strut.

As does everyone you saved, No matter the gender, nor age, nobody is embarrassed imitating Ulala no matter what she does. We’ll be half as lucky to get a cool future as cool as 2499.

And with that the first report is over.

Report 2: (Age 35)

At the Morolian HQ (Presumably), their boss doesn’t like failure.

But like a good boss he doesn’t dwell on failure and moves on to the next plan. One of his lackeys has this plan: Another boss battle dance robot who operates on:

The everyone at the table is impressed. So I guess Ulala is screwed, game over.

This level is more of the same as the last one more or less, it’s possibly the most boring level in the series in that regard. It’s not bad, this is just the game bulding enough a status quo before they change things up in Report 3.

But that doesn’t make this level any less interesting to talk about, so I won’t go over it much.

The short story until something new happens is: Space Ship (think of it as a fancy yacht but in space) is being attack by Morolians, Ulala is send to report on it, and being the professional she is saves hostages as well.

She saves the captain, crew members, stewardesses, waitresses, the Space Diva (OH NO! NOT THE SPACE DIVA!), passages and the like.

UNTIL!

He voice says “I’m gonna steal you show, Space Channel 5”. And you see this ship flying by:

Another rival reporter, this one a pirate broadcasting station.

Side note: That’s sounds like the most important kind of pirate ever. Alternative news/non-mainstream with no money/rating motive blinding everything with journalistic integrity? Yes, by all means. If they’re pirates then so are Secular Talk & The Humanist Report.

Back to the silly dance game. The Pirates either jam or hack Channel 5′s signal and the Ulala is stuck with them for a while.

And then we meet that where we meet the gent above.

“[His] name is:“

“JAGUAAAAARRRR!!!” “JAGUAAAAARRRR!!!“

(Age 35)

LET’S DANCE!

Dude, I love Jaguar (Age 35) he’s gotta be my second favorite character in the series on account he’s just cool and incapable of embarrassment.

Remember the deceased of the last report? The Channel 42 reporter in the blue dress? He’s her counterpart for this chapter.

But whereas the deceased’s gimmick sounded air headed for a lack of a better term. Maybe, girly? Point is, battling her didn’t feel too dissimilar to battling Morolians despite her rhytmic mannerisms.

Jaguar (Age 35)’s gimmick is that he just adds. He starts with a simple Up. And then he adds a Chu, and another Chu. Eventually it becomes a really long chain of commands, it has to be some of the longest in the series. And you have to do them all from start to finish because he does them all sequentially. Can you repeat?:

Up. Chu. ChuChu. Right. Left. Down. DownDown. Down. Chu. Chu. Chu.

He is easing you into it, but it is by no means an easy fight. Because after the chain is at its longest, he just spamming ChuChuChu in quick succession. And then a simple Chu.

After defeat Jaguar & Co, escape by jet-pack, saying they will meet later.

This battle is a highlight for me. Coco Tapioco and the big bosses to come are better if you ask me (with exceptions). But Jaguar (Age 35) is some of the best the normal gameplay goes.

And you could argue what normal means in the context of Space Channel 5. But effectively, like Channel 42′s deceased, functionally he might as well be another Morolian if he wasn’t there to be set up for later. Because you do get person that just joins your Strut Club like everywhere else.

You gain his Jazz Man and you get a great sax solo as a reward beating him. Like how you got Channel 42′s guitarist for beating them. I like the think the Jazz Man can work for Jaguar (Age 35) again while the Channel 42 Guitarist is blacklisted.

And before we move on from Jaguar (Age 35) check out his Chu pose:

BOSS TIME!

Jaguar (Age 35): The alien mothership is retreating. Don’t you have to follow them, Channel 5? Fuse: Blast you, Jaguar [Age 35].

With the pirates giving chase, Ulala is left with the cowardly alien robot to elegant music.

Ignoring the robot’s title, while silly, its cowardice is its greatest asset. For it has kidnapped some space schoolkids, making their space teacher worry. Their space teacher can actually be seen at the start of the report.

Space fashion, am I right?

I’ve exceeded Tumblr’s invisible limit of what to put in a blog post. I’ll have to rewrite this boss what I have to say for this boss. So full, can’t spell check! We’ll be back!

#space channel 5 #sc5 #ulala #dreamcast #chu #gushing #jaguar #fuse #pudding #coco tapioca #morolina #morolians

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laranjatoranjalaranja · 5 years

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Aesthetics and History of Art: what is their role under fully-automated luxury communism?

Aesthetics has become unpopular among the left. Today, it is commonly associated with fascism and right-wing manipulative propaganda tactics. Walter Benjamin’s famous text about the modern reproduction of artworks can be credited with laying out a great part of the structure and terms of this discussion. In his work, what he calls the “aestheticisation of politics” is famously associated with fascism, while art, understood as a kind of aesthetics that has been politicised, is contrarily and positively associated with communism.

The main reason why this text acquired the cult status it has today, within the artworld, is because of the way in which it defines contemporary art as inherently revolutionary. Benjamin believes that, thanks to recent advances in its technological reproducibility, truly contemporary artworks were finally freed from old hierarchical ideas of originality, and thus acquired a new and enhanced political potential, particularly suitable for the communist political project.

Aesthetics, on the other hand, without the politisation that would turn it into art, becomes simply the domain of appearances, simulation, and spectacle in the Debordian sense. And this is where this theory starts to show its fragility.

A closer look at Benjamin’s theory reveals it to be susceptible to the same criticism as Debord’s Society of the Spectacle. As Jacques Rancière has pointed out in The Emancipated Spectator, the separation between the simulated appearances that seduce the masses, and the true reality only accessible to some, is unfounded and misleading, despite being commonly understood to be a fact of life.

The legitimacy of this separation depends on a thriving platonic idealism that often affects both right and left of the political spectrum and which is particularly prevalent in the Western world. According to this ideology, the mind and the body are hierarchically separated. While the mind is our reliable means of accessing the truth, the body is the deceiving realm of flawed sensorial perception which is completely unreliable unless previously subjected to correction by reason.

If we understand aesthetics in its broadest possible form, as simply that which relates to the senses, it inevitably falls into the suspicious second half of this division. But art can still be saved if it is not understood in aesthetic terms but as politicised aesthetics. The politicisation of aesthetics entails fighting ‘the spectacle’, by subjecting the ‘simulations’ our body perceives to the political ‘corrections’ of our intellectual reason.**

To further clarify why this kind of framework is flawed, it becomes useful to make a quick detour to the work of another author. In Pedagogy of The Oppressed, Paulo Freire defines praxis as a dialectical union between theory and practice. This means that, while our theory can, and should, inform our practice, this same practice also needs to inform our theory, thus making sure it matches our actual, lived reality. This means that the relationship between mind and body, theory and practice, reason and senses, is better understood as one of cooperation and mutual dependency than one of hierarchy and antagonism. It also means that aesthetics, broadly understood, plays an essential role in this dialectical process.

But, going back to Benjamin, I have said that the main reason his theory got so popular within the artworld is because of the revolutionary character he assigned to art. But this is not the only reason. Complementing this idea, we have a second one which relates to the phenomenon of demonization of aesthetics I mentioned in the very beginning.

It is becoming increasingly hard to ignore the fact that the art faces serious, and inherent, issues and contradictions. The complementing aspect of what makes Benjamin’s argument appealing is that it allows us to keep our faith in art, while also feeling like we are targeting the problems that ‘threaten its purity and integrity’. These problems are thus presented as non-inherent, originating from external sources, and a great deal of what made this ‘outsourcing’ possible has been the use of aesthetics as a scapegoat for the issues affecting art in general.

Aesthetics has proven to be a particularly good fit for this. This is because if, on the one hand, some people felt suspicious towards art because they thought it was shallow, futile and even deceiving, we could argue, like Benjamin, that this was a problem of aesthetics and not art. Although this ‘futility’ argument is relatively common, it is not a very strong one (as I have tried to show when I mentioned Ranciere’s critique). A strong argument that can be directed against art, on the other hand, would be that it is a historical invention of the modern West, which means it has not always existed and, therefore, the usefulness of its continued existence becomes open for debate. But this critique too can be diverted towards aesthetics.

In fact, aesthetics much more that art, was accused of being something made up in the 18th century by Western white males unaware of their privilege, to create rules that would validate what they thought of as beautiful and worthy of attention. Aesthetics, as a discipline, deserved all the criticism it got. More recently, the art market and the ‘artworld’, where also targets of a similar critique which, was also perfectly valid but, for some reason, continued to assume that all these things can be separated from art itself. As if art could ever have come to existence, and continue to exist, without them.

This criticism of aesthetics as an academic discipline, the art market or the artworld, is usually done using a leftist discourse. But critiques that extend to the notion of art itself are rare.

Occasionally, more radical leftists will become interested in topics like art. And many of them do end up realising, half way through their own research, courses or degrees, that all these accusations often thrown at ‘aesthetics’ are just as applicable to our notion of art. Frequently, these people end up being the ones who are more dismissive and suspicious of our contemporary cultural institutions in general. They often believe that art, like most of our contemporary culture, can be categorised as ‘capitalist spectacle’, and therefore should be understood as a distraction to be ignored.

These people can be easily convinced that art is a capitalist invention of the modern West. But the conclusion they draw from this is that the best thing to do is to dismiss all the things presented as art by our artistic institutions as capitalist distraction tactics, meant to divert our attention from the ‘real’ issues. What they fail to recognise, on the one hand, is that art is not a distraction to be ignored, but a weapon to be fought. And, on the other hand, they make the mistake of accepting the terms in which the capitalist artworld defines what aesthetics can be.

Capitalism knows well how to use aesthetics to its advantage. It has developed things like marketing and branding, as well as art, which are complex and highly effective techniques designed to work specifically to its own advantage. It knows how to tell the seductive and persuasive story of its own triumph and legitimacy.

This left, on the other hand, has little more than outdated ideas of communist propaganda, which are literally from the last century. And this is because, today, the left often conceives of aesthetics as either evil or merely secondary. We haven’t taken any time to develop an alternative way to understand this other part of us, the one that is more connected to the senses and which is equally essential to understanding the world around us.

While part of what I will do here is question the validity of, and politics behind, our modern notion of art, I also want to argue that aesthetics is, actually, not necessarily susceptible to the same criticism. Unlike art, the artworld and the art market, the word aesthetics can have an older, broader meaning. Aesthetics, as that which simply relates to the senses, is not susceptible to the same criticism as its modern academic homonym, or as art, because it is not to be understood as a Human creation. It is not connected to any idea of ‘what it means to be Human’ or any ‘essence’ of Humanity. So, in this specific sense, aesthetics can be said to be an a-historical concept.

The prevailing platonic idealism I mentioned previously, leads people to prefer thinking in terms of Art and Humanity, rather than in terms of aesthetics, which would imply the recognition of a common ground, shared among us and all the other animals.

Aesthetic sensibility, understood in this way, is possessed by anyone and anything that simply possesses senses. From humans, to animals and maybe even other kinds of beings. While we can say that not all cultures have art because the concept of art is an invention of the West, we cannot say the same of things like aesthetics in this broad sense.***

Rather than dismissing aesthetics as a product of capitalism or a more or less futile thing to be dealt with ‘later’, we need to recognise that capitalism will thrive as long as it continues presenting itself as the best, or even the only, materially realistic, viable, alternative. No matter how many theories and manifestos the left has, as long we are not capable of presenting aesthetic alternatives to what capitalism has been imposing, none of it will feel, or even be, translatable to real life.

The left cannot go on pretending like aesthetics is a dispensable, secondary issue. Aesthetics is not a distraction, it is an essential part of how we experience our lives and therefore it too deserves a pride of place in our political agenda. Ignoring it will not make it irrelevant.

At this point, I have been studying History of Art in academia for 5 years, and it strikes me how, despite appearances, truly revolutionary History of Art barely exists. Despite the overwhelming number of so-called radical journals and other kinds of left-wing publications, most of it is actually liberal. What I mean by this is that most of the people who write for these publications seem to share a common goal: to free art from the elites’ domination (much like Benjamin). This is a liberal goal because it aims at reforming rather than revolutionising the existing system. It aims at saving art at all cost and it rules of even considering that its obvious and persisting problems might be inherent and that a possible solution would be to replace it with something radically different. Related to this, is another striking problem which is the prevailing assumption that art and the elites are separable to begin with.

I want to make it clear here that art cannot be understood (especially within academic contexts) as a human constant. Studying the history of art implies that art has a history and, therefore, a historical origin. Humans were not ‘artistic’ by nature, since the beginning of time. Art is a concept created by the modern West. There were no actual synonyms to the word Art in non-Western cultures and no one in Europe was even talking about such a thing until the 18th century (see Kristeller’s The Modern System of The Arts (pt. I and pt. II) and Shiner’s The Invention of Art*).

It is irresponsible and anachronistic for Art historians to say or imply that art is something that humans have always done. This is an imperialistic tendency that we need to, not only distance ourselves from, but also actively fight against. And I stress actively fight against because these things I am writing about here have already been mentioned in academic publications from decades ago (Kristeller’s first article was published in 1951).

Since its creation, Art has existed to serve the capitalist elites (see Taylor’s Art, An Enemy of The People*). It was created by them, for them. To both serve and represent their interests.

I say capitalist elites, specifically, because the works commissioned by the traditional nobility did not fit with our modern idea of art in their original contexts. The treasures of the French monarchy only became Art when the bourgeoisie took over and made them what they are today - the collection of an Art museum. These objects were stripped of their original meanings and functions and became targets of ‘disinterested contemplation’ and those who see this as a revolutionary triumph over an oppressive regime conveniently forget that the reality is more complex and the same thing was also done with foreign objects stolen by the French colonisers, shortly after.

Today, many people are still wondering why is Duchamp’s Fountain Art. The answer is, mainly, because this is what the elites behind our art institutions decided is art. The line between Art and non-Art is merely an institutional one. Art is an institutional system. And this is a system whose tables cannot simply be turned because, in order for Art to exist, it needs to distinguish itself from other modern categories like crafts and popular culture. The category of Art depends on this hierarchical distinction because, simply put, Art is High Culture.

This means that as long as art, as we understand it today, exists, there must also exist a privileged group that gets to draw the line between High and low culture. The cultural identity of these elites might change overtime, but their status as oppressors will always remain, within this structure. This is why the quest to ‘democratise’ art is merely reformist rather than revolutionary.

I am not advocating for the burning of museums, Futurism style. I do think museums are important sources of information that should be free especially when they are public. What I am saying is that when these museums exhibit things that were not originally intended to be art as if they have always and unquestionably been so, they are making a serious mistake. They are silencing alternative narratives and disrespecting the people who created the objects they claim to be spreading knowledge about. They are suppressing aesthetic diversity, not promoting it.

Regarding contemporary Art museums and galleries, I think it would be fair to say that they are mostly bullshit. I make intentional efforts not to give any of my money to them (this also applies to academic Art Schools). I sometimes visit them, when they are free, because I want my opinions to be informed. I don’t usually pay for any tickets (they are usually even more expensive than regular museums anyway) nor do I let myself be troubled by those who believe I cannot be an expert on Art with a proper opinion, if I don’t go to all the ‘landmark’ cultural events. I try not to let art snobs like Jonathan Jones dictate which cultural events are or aren’t worthy of attention.

To conclude, History of Art as an academic discipline still has serious issues. Real History of Art should recognise that Art has a specific historical origin, and not treat it like a mysterious (mythical) part of ‘Human Nature’.

To do leftist History of Art, nevertheless, we need to take this even one step further and study the consequences of the capitalist origins of this phenomenon and how it developed from there. The impacts of its structure, the way it works, how it legitimises itself, its weaknesses, all these should be analysed in ways that will allow this phenomenon to be coherently perceived through a left-wing lens, subsequently enabling us to imagine viable alternatives to the current Art system (Richard Sennett does something like this in his book The Craftsman. If you don’t feel like reading, he also explains it beautifully in his lectures on craftsmanship available on youtube).

Also, I feel like I should mention that the mythical treatment Art historians give their subject, either emphatically and intentionally or through the passive and implicit acceptance of this mythical definition, is probably one of the things that mostly contributes to the much criticised workings of our contemporary art market. Surely, one of the reasons why artworks are sold at such exorbitant prices is because what these people are buying is not just good looking paintings. These objects are being sold as the latest, most recent pieces in the important puzzle that is Human History. Once gathered all in the correct order, these pieces are thought to reveal what it means to be Human. The ‘History’ of Art I’ve been criticising here is largely responsible for the maintenance of this profitable myth, that has been giving the powerful disproportionate control over the narratives of our collective existences.

Notes:

* If you don’t have access to these texts via your public libraries, genesis online library should have it for free download, just click here and try following the links presented (they are forced to keep changing domains because certain people don’t like it when information is too accessible).

** I do believe there is something more to be said about this politicisation of aesthetics. I think it can be a very useful and interesting terminology, but it needs to be conceptualised outside of this limited ‘reality versus simulation’ framework.

*** Or, for example, of something like venal blood. All people and animals with venal blood can be said to have venal blood, despite understanding or not what this means. A culture which does not understand what we mean by ‘art’ today, cannot be said to have it (they will have other things, which they will understand in different terms, and which, I want to emphasise, are not of lesser value just because they won’t fit our ‘artistic model’).

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sonicrainicorn · 5 years

Text

Made of Love, Chapter 16

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Table of Contents

Ship(s): Logicality, (platonic) Prinxiety

All Characters: Thomas, Virgil, Roman, Logan, Patton, Dr. Picani, Joan, Talyn, and Deceit

Synopsis: Humans Roman and Virgil get wrapped up in some serious magic business without meaning to. Their other companions aren’t exactly as they seem, either. Together they all must defeat a great threat for the safety of humanity.

Chapter Desc.: W͏̤ę̫̙̥̜̹̘͔l͉̳̪͕̥̭c̘̰̟o̙͉͕̰m͏̼̪̥͈͔̦ͅe̞̼͍͡ ͉̦͔͉̤t̵̺̗̹o ̹̻̝͚̞̠͉t̩he ͏͚̜̤p͕a͉̝n̡͚̯i̮̪̟c̭̟̘ ҉̯̤̼̥̥r̫͓͙̼o̲̮̤̜̝͉̼om͇͍̗.

TW: Cursing, stabbing

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Virgil slept well passed one o’clock. In his defense, he needed the rest. Also, he hated mornings. He still felt tired when he woke up, but at least it was at a level he could manage. He stared up at the ceiling for several minutes before deciding to get out of bed. He trudged down the hall to see three faces he knew well. It was odd how quickly he had gotten used to living in a house with four other dorks.

Roman and Thomas sat on the floor at the coffee table playing some sort of card game. Maybe it was Speed. Virgil was too sleepy to pay attention to it. Logan was sitting with his legs crossed on the couch, scribbling into the notebook on his lap. Patton was most likely outside. The TV played mindless background noise.

Virgil plopped onto the armchair without a word. No one paid him any mind. It was nice; things felt normal. As if this was just a regular day with friends. If your friends happened to consist of two people who are sometimes one person, a ninety-four-year-old child, and a photographer who is way too into fantasy, that is. So, maybe Virgil wouldn’t say that “regular” fit in with this group in particular.

“Dammit,” Roman’s complaint was almost covered by Thomas’s cheer. When Virgil looked, he saw Thomas with an empty hand and Roman holding onto one card.

“You were pretty close that time,” Thomas teased. He pushed himself off the floor to wander over to the kitchen.

Roman frowned and started gathering all the cards into a single deck. “I’m going to call bullshit because Speed has been around since the 40s at least, and you’ve had the advantage of being around at that time.”

“Hey, just because I’m old doesn’t mean you can use it to justify your crummy gameplay.”

Virgil snorted. “He’s got you there.”

Roman threw a card at him. “No one asked you.”

Virgil retaliated by keeping the card.

Thomas came back in with a bowl of grapes and took a seat beside Logan to stay out of the rather immature fight going on. Virgil stretched to keep the card out of Roman's reach and kept going farther the closer he got to it. As long as Thomas didn't have to deal with it, he was fine. He munched on grapes as he watched the scene unfold. They were like two school children whose whole relationship was based on bullying each other. It often led to random entertaining moments such as this.

He glanced over to Logan and almost choked on a grape. “Holy cow.” He set the bowl down on the coffee table while placing a hand over his mouth. “How long have you been able to draw?” He had always been under the impression that Logan used his notebook to write in, not create literal works of art.

Logan stopped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pressed the notebook to his chest to hide the pages from view.

Roman snatched the card from Virgil’s hand and placed it in the deck. They stuck their tongue out at each other.

“Let me see it.” Thomas moved to sit on his legs and face Logan. He held out his hands expectantly.

“I think not.”

“Oh, c’mon. Please?” He gave his best pout and puppy eyes.

Logan wasn’t phased. “No.”

Thomas huffed and slouched his shoulders. “That always works on Virgil.”

“What?” Virgil stopped messing with Roman to pay attention to the separate conversation going on.

“Oh, nothing.” Thomas gave him a charming smile.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Thomas just wishes to see things that are none of his business.”

“It’s not gonna hurt anyone if you let me take a little peek.” He crossed his arms. “What’s so wrong about knowing how to draw?”

“That isn’t the issue.”

“Aw, you’re embarrassed,” Roman commented without even needing to look up.

Despite his scowl, Logan’s cheeks turned a soft pink color. “I am not. I just don’t see the point on how this is so interesting.”

“If you don’t see the point then why not let me take a gander at it?” Thomas blinked innocently at him.

Logan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what? I’m just -- here.” He handed the notebook over. “I don’t know where you learned to be so stubborn.”

“Gee, I wonder.” He began to look through it. And he may or may not have held it out a bit so Roman and Virgil could peek over his shoulders to see. “It’s not like Picani practically raised me or any -- oh my God. These are the prettiest things I’ve ever seen in my life. How long were you planning to keep this a secret?”

"I have no idea what you mean."

Every page Thomas flipped to had a beautifully inked drawing. A realistic yet scratchy style that seemed very unique to Logan. There were many different subjects. Some inanimate, some real. Even a few that extended across two pages. They were very detailed and intricate for something done in a few days. So far, Thomas’s favorite had to be the one with the little fluffy bird. He knew for a fact Patton had a part to play in that. That man had a scary good way with handling animals.

“Is that Kilgarah?” Virgil pointed at the page with a roughly sketched dragon. A sly smile spread across his lips. “I thought you weren’t interested in Merlin.”

“I never explicitly said that.” Logan crossed his arms as his face turned a brighter pink.

“Well, it looks great.” Roman grinned. “You should do little Aithusa next.”

“I’m just -- I’m really blown away by this.” Thomas couldn’t stop gazing at every illustration in amazement. “How did you manage to trace all your lines so well?”

“I didn’t.”

Thomas lifted his gaze up to Logan. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I didn’t trace anything.”

He gaped at him for a moment. “Shut up. You had to have traced this.” His wonder only grew when Logan continued to deny it. “No freaking way. You free-handed all of these? In pen?” That sounded impossible to Thomas. Free-handing in pencil seemed a little more believable since there was a chance to erase mistakes, but there weren’t any second chances with pen.

Logan didn’t seem to understand Thomas’s astonishment. “Is that difficult?”

Too many words tried to get out of Thomas’s mouth at once. How in the hell did Logan not see anything impossible about that? “Uh, yeah it’s difficult. It’s really difficult. Have you ever even tried to use a pencil first?”

“I’ve never drawn with a pencil before.”

Thomas almost choked on air. “You’re over seven hundred years old and you’ve never drawn with a pencil before?”

“You’re seven hundred years old?” Virgil and Roman asked over each other, though Roman’s came out sounding similar to a screech.

Logan sent a glare Thomas’s way, who in turn raised the notebook to hide his mouth from view. “Yes, I am,” Logan continued. “But that’s hardly relevant to this discussion. And, Thomas, if you must know, pencils as you know them are a fairly modern invention. It was common to use ink."

"What'd you do before ink?" Thomas lowered the notebook a bit. He knew for a fact that ink would have been impossible for Logan to come by during his childhood.

"I, uh, I would burn shapes into wood." He traced a shape in the air with his finger as if to demonstrate. "Fallen wood, mind you. Patton might have killed me if I burned anything into a tree."

"Okay, that's great, but can we please go back to the part where you're seven hundred?" Roman asked. "I think I still need to wrap my head around it."

"You told them without me?" Patton complained as he stepped into the living room with a pout. "I wanted to be there for it."

"I didn't tell them. Thomas blurted it out."

Thomas chuckled nervously, raising the notebook back again. "Sorry."

Patton slipped into a smile and stepped forward to ruffle Thomas's hair. "Don't worry about it, son. Sometimes that just happens."

"I'm not your son," he mumbled under his breath.

"What year were you both born?" Virgil decided to ask.

Patton shrugged while Logan answered, "No idea. I had it narrowed down to some time in the fourteenth century, but I'm unsure of any exact years or dates."

"I was born in the winter," Patton added. "But I don't really know how to translate the date into something that makes sense for a modern, human calendar."

"What is it in a past, non-human calendar?" Roman questioned.

"Treto cheizmon tin pepti daméra naká punpó mjeslino."

Instinctively, the other three turned to Logan for a translation. "I have no idea how that would translate, either," he admitted. "It's not exactly a numerical date. It’s just kind of a statement."

“Alright. Well now that I know how old you are, I have at least a hundred questions I would love for you to answer.”

As Roman buzzed along with questions, Virgil pulled Thomas away for a private conversation. He made sure to lower his voice before speaking, “Did you tell them?”

“Oh, uh,” Thomas messed with the pages in Logan’s notebook, “I was kind of working up the courage?”

“I was knocked out for almost six hours.”

“Okay, so I might have forgotten about it a little.” He cringed a bit. “I just don’t know how to say it.”

Virgil sighed. “I don’t wanna put you on a time limit, kid, but maybe you should tell them sooner rather than later. Like today.”

Thomas continued to fidget with the pages. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Fine.”

He blinked in surprise as if he didn’t expect that to work. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it right now.” He walked over to the other three without another moment’s hesitation. “Alright guys, I hate to interrupt the twenty questions, but I have something really important to say.” He waited until he had their attention before continuing. “Last night I had someone tell me where Altair is. And this morning, Thomas and I double-checked with Joan and Talyn to see if it was reliable.”

“And?” Patton pried, clearly eager to hear some good news.

“It’s highly likely that it is.”

And then Patton lit up. He smiled so wide that literal sunshine seemed dull in comparison. It made Virgil feel ten times lighter and caused a little smile of his own to come out. “That’s amazing. We’re so close to fixing all of this.”

“There’s still the issue on what we’re going to do,” Logan pointed out. He seemed to be going over several different scenarios in his head already.

“You have us,” Thomas said.

Logan paused. “I certainly hope by ‘us’ you mean Roman and Virgil, and not that you’re implying you’ll be coming along.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Thomas poured all his attention into the notebook in his hands. "I figured I could help in order to make up for mistakes one might have made prior.”

A grimace flicked across both Logan’s and Patton’s faces as if a foul memory flashed in their minds for a second. “That isn’t the exact issue,” Logan continued. “You’re still a child. You have very little experience in fighting.”

“Logan’s right,” Patton added. “This could be very dangerous. I wouldn’t even want Roman and Virgil to get involved, but I don’t really think we have much of a choice. We don’t exactly have anyone else to ask.”

"But I can help."

"Maybe you should listen to them," Virgil muttered. He ignored Thomas's shocked expression to continue, "it would be a lot safer if you stayed here." The Theorist’s words were loud and clear: something would happen to Thomas if he went. And Virgil couldn’t allow that.

Thomas frowned down at the notebook. It took all of Virgil’s willpower to not take back anything upon seeing that expression.

“Why not give him a chance?” Roman spoke up. “Who knows? We might need an extra pair of hands.”

Neither Patton nor Logan seemed all that convinced, to which Virgil let out a silent breath of relief for. As long as one of them didn’t change their mind then everything would be good. It was almost as if they shared the same brain; if one of them thought differently, then the other could be swayed to think the same way.

“I promise I won’t get in the way this time. Please.” Thomas gave them a genuine plea.

Virgil glanced nervously over to Patton and Logan. He couldn’t say any more about this. It would be their decision in the end. He knew, if he wanted, he could tell them about the possibility of Thomas getting hurt if he went. But he was pretty sure he’d seen enough movies and read enough novels to know that telling someone the future was a surefire way to make it come true.

“It’s still dangerous,” Patton said. “At least Roman and Virgil know how to use weapons and are capable of defending themselves. But you…” He trailed off.

“I can’t just stay back and watch --” Virgil caught sight of Logan’s reaction to that. A spark of recognition. Words that were familiar and held a specific weight -- “at least give me a second chance. Some way to show you that I can do this. Please. I know I can do this if you just let me.”

“I don’t --”

“Okay,” Logan cut off in a steady voice.

“What?” Patton and Virgil stared at him in disbelief.

“Really?” Thomas beamed. “Oh, thank you so much, Logan.” He rushed over to give him a hug.

Virgil didn’t know how he could have interjected without sounding like an asshole. He didn’t want Thomas to come along for fear of something terrible happening, but he couldn’t downright say that. Maybe he should have said something when he had the chance.

“Uh, you sure about this, Lo?” Patton wrung his hands. It seemed Virgil wasn’t the only one nervous about it.

“Just trust me on this one.”

And that’s all it took for Thomas to tag along.

They elected to go the next night in order to be better prepared. And boy, oh boy, if that wasn’t agonizing for Virgil. Every second that ticked by felt like hell. He didn’t know what to do. At this point, it wasn’t avoidable. He just had to keep an extra eye on Thomas throughout this whole excursion. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about already.

The building, as it turned out, used to be an old shopping place. It had a vast parking lot full of litter and faded paint. The big, blocky letters that were once attached to the front were long gone and were instead replaced by faded outlines. Who knew how long this one had been abandoned for. Virgil didn’t even recognize the name.

Unfortunately, the inside was no better. Trash covered much of the floor. Some displays and shelves were still left untouched -- somehow managing to make things that much more creepy. An old, musty smell wafted in from all corners of the building. It was kind of disgusting.

“It’s so creepy,” Thomas commented as he huddled into his jacket. He stayed near Roman, as he was the closest person with a light source. “Did it have to be another abandoned place? It couldn’t have been like a park or something?”

Virgil felt that on a spiritual level. But this place didn’t seem as death-trappy as the manufacturing plant. It actually seemed like they had a chance at escaping this without dying.

“Calm down, Virgil Jr., I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Roman teased.

Thomas grumbled but his words couldn’t be made out clearly.

“Both of you -- be quiet,” Logan snapped. “We’re here for a reason and it isn’t going to help if you keep blabbering.”

They muttered apologies.

“I could always add a little extra light, Lo,” Patton whispered. If Virgil wasn’t so close he might not have heard it.

“Now is not the time, Patton.”

Patton frowned and fell out of step.

Interesting.

The group continued to wander around in near silence. Virgil and Logan kept at the front with their lights. No one had any idea of where to start. There wasn’t any evidence of anyone being here at all. But, as Virgil has learned the hard way, looks could be deceiving. Every turn caused more uneasiness to grow within the group. They had to find someone -- anyone. They couldn’t have made this trip for no reason.

And yet the deeper they got, with no sign of anyone appearing, a sick feeling began to swirl in Virgil’s stomach. Something was off. He couldn’t tell what, but it was something. It didn’t have anything to do with the building, either. No. This was… this was like dread. A deeply-rooted dread that might as well have always been with him. But he didn’t know what could be causing it. Maybe he was being paranoid.

“What the hell?”

A deep chill rooted Virgil to the spot. He could barely manage to turn enough to see Roman, who was looking off toward the side at something. Except nothing was there. Just a makeshift aisle with nothing in between. Nothing at the end. Nothing that should have caused that tone in his voice. And yet it somehow managed to make Virgil feel more uneasy.

“Roman?” Thomas tugged on Roman’s sleeve to grab his attention.

But Roman didn’t pay him any mind. He continued to stare in confusion and horror. “M-Mother? How are -- how did --?”

“What’s happening?” Thomas turned to Logan and Patton for an answer.

Logan frowned a bit. “Roman,” he walked over to him, “if you’re seeing something, it’s not there. There isn’t anyone here but the five of us.”

Thomas lifted his hand and waved it in front of his eyes. There wasn’t a reaction. “I don’t think that’s a good sign.” He gave Logan a worried glance.

“Neither do I.” Logan’s frown deepened.

Virgil wanted to ask if they had any ideas, but the words never got to take form. Patton’s frantic voice sounded before he could even open his mouth.

“Logan?!”

Immediately, Logan returned to his side. “Patton?” He grabbed his outstretched hand. “What’s wrong? Are you seeing something?”

“There’s -- I -- I can’t tell.” He put his other hand over Logan’s. “Too many things are happening. I don’t -- I don’t know what’s real. I can’t tell. Logan,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “why are you leaving?”

Logan stared at him in bewilderment. “I’m not. Patton, I’m right here.”

“Come back. Please. You can’t leave. You can’t…”

“Patton. Patton, I’m not going anywhere.” He shook his shoulder. “Patton.” But he didn’t get a response.

“I think he’s gone, too,” Virgil murmured.

Logan sighed and faced the other two. “I don’t have an answer to what’s going on, but just know that whatever you see -- if you start to see it -- is not real. No one is here but us.”

“What should we do?” Thomas hovered at Virgil’s side.

For once, Virgil could see right through Logan. He didn’t know. He was just as lost as them. “Until we figure out what’s causing this we can’t exactly do anything. So before we even think about fixing it we have to find --” He cut himself off with a sharp gasp. The phone in his hand clattered to the floor. “You.” He took a tiny step back, wide eyes never leaving the empty spot between Virgil and Thomas. “No. No, you’re not real.” He turned away from whatever he was seeing.

Uh oh.

“Shut up. You’re not real.” He covered his ears. “I’m not there. I’m -- I -- you can’t be here.”

Virgil had an awful feeling that the battle was being lost. “Logan, don’t believe it. You’re right -- it’s not there. You’re here with us.”

“You can’t stay. You have to leave.” Virgil couldn’t tell if he was talking to his hallucination or not. “You can’t stay.”

“Logan?” Thomas called in concern.

He didn’t get a response.

“What are we supposed to do?” He turned to Virgil. “Why is this happening to them? What are they seeing?”

“I, I don’t know.” He truly didn’t. “But we can’t fall into it. We have to figure out what’s going on.” He put his hands on Thomas’s shoulders, careful to mind his phone. “Focus on right here and now, okay? We’re the only two left.” That wasn’t stressful or anything.

“Okay.”

Virgil could tell he was frightened. Hell, he was too. The people around them were falling prey to hallucinations and so far there didn’t seem to be any coming back from it. Or any avoiding it for that matter. There was no telling what they were seeing or why, but it was clear that they weren’t seeing the same thing. Perhaps they saw something specific to them.

And then Thomas’s attention drifted away for a moment.

“Kid.” Virgil found himself squeezing his shoulder. “Did you just see something?”

“N-no.” Despite this, his eyes flicked away. As if to make sure something was still there.

“If I find out you’re lying to me I’m not going to be very happy.” Probably not the best thing to say to a child you’ve yelled at before about such an issue, but he couldn’t help it. He was trying his best to maintain some semblance of control.

“He’s not real. I know he isn’t.”

Virgil watched as Thomas tried to peer around him to see something. Someone. Only to return back to ignoring it with a more panicked expression.

Getting desperate, Virgil grabbed Thomas’s face with one hand and forced him to look him in the eyes. “Focus on me. There’s only five of us in this room, alright? No one else is here. And right now, you’re talking to me. I’m right here. I’m real and I’m in front of you. Whoever you think you see isn’t really there.”

“Y-yeah, okay.” He nodded as best as he could with Virgil holding onto his face. But with a gasp and wide eyes, he tore himself away. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil furrowed his brows. “Thomas?”

“You can’t tell anyone. I never should have said anything. Please don’t tell anyone.” He continued to beg to someone that wasn’t really there.

Fuck. Okay, this wasn’t good. This was the exact opposite of good. What the hell was Virgil supposed to do now? He tried to grab everyone’s attention -- just one more time -- but no one responded to him. It’s like he wasn’t even there at all.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Step one: don’t freak out. Well, don’t freak out any more than he already was. Step two: find what’s causing this. As long as Virgil wasn’t seeing anything then he was the only one who could find the source. It could be anything -- anyone. He didn’t know shit about magic. But he had a feeling he’d know it when he’d see it.

If he could see it.

Oh, God, what if he couldn’t see it? What if he walked right past it? What if it was invisible? What if it could only be seen by someone with magic? Or, worse yet, what if it was a curse? How would he reverse it? Curses never came with clear instructions!

A chill crawled down his back -- almost like an icy finger running down his spine. It forced him to shudder. The space around him started to dim. As if a shadow had been thrown over the surrounding area to the point where he couldn’t see anyone else. Not even his light illuminated anything.

Alright, this was not helping his situation. What the fuck.

He tried to keep his breathing under control. That was the one thing he had control over. He could manage that, at least. He could focus on that. Just breathe. Breathing is good. In. Hold it. Out. In. Hold it. Out. In -- hold on a minute.

Out in the shadows, something started to move. Someone? They took a step forward. Virgil took one back. The process repeated until a full person could be seen. And… they looked a lot like Virgil. An uncanny resemblance -- a copy. Except this version of Virgil had dark shadows under his eyes. His clothing lacked any sort of color and he looked downright unimpressed.

“It’s funny,” he spoke, but his voice didn’t sound all that human. It carried Virgil’s cadence but with layers in lower octaves, “that this is the one thing you fear the most.” He motioned to himself. “You’re nothing impressive. Nothing about you is threatening. Your friends are a lot more interesting, I think.” He looked out into the shadows as if he could see where everyone was exactly.

Virgil let out a silent breath. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. Here was this doppelganger talking to him as if he already knew what was going on. He wasn’t sure if he should be terrified or confused. Yet he somehow felt both.

The doppelganger continued. “There are so many regrets. It’s almost palpable. Things they wished they could have said, things they wished they didn’t say. There’s so much of it. And it’s honestly ridiculous. Is this how people live their lives? With constant regrets? There’s so much of it in here. Far too many lifetimes.”

What…?

“It doesn’t make any differences to me, though. Whether it’s the childhood Thomas lost, or the family Logan ran away from, it’s all the same.” His eyes turned over to Virgil. “It makes them miserable. I don’t think they like being reminded of it all, and yet it’s funny to watch them squirm.”

Virgil’s fear flew right out the window. This thing was messing with everyone. He spoke about them like they were new toys. “What are you doing to them?” He broke free of his instincts and stepped up to his clone.

He continued to get that unimpressed look. “Do you mind putting that thing away?” He pushed the phone down with a finger. “I’m not exactly partial to the light. And I don’t think you want to anger me.”

Virgil glared at him but did as he asked. As he shoved it into his pocket, it came into contact with something. A pen. He slipped it out without a second thought.

The other Virgil raised a brow.

“What?” He twirled it around his fingers. “It’s just a pen.” He clicked it and the ballpoint tip poked out. He suppressed a smirk. “Am I allowed to have this out or are you not partial to these, either?” He clicked it again to continue twirling it.

The other Virgil scowled. “I could care less.”

“Great.”

“What is it with humans and the need to be insufferable?” He began to pace around Virgil. “You’re all like flies. There are other things that are stronger and better than you, yet you are always everywhere no matter how those things try to get rid of you. Yet in the blink of an eye, you’re gone. And you leave new flies in your place.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “What are you?”

The other Virgil paused for a moment. “There are many names for someone like me. Many have called me a demon, others only think I’m a shadow. I believe you would have known me,” he appeared to think about it, “as the boogeyman.”

Virgil tried to ignore how the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He had no reason to doubt his clone wasn’t telling the truth.

Other Virgil stood right in front of him again. His eyes gazed over every aspect of Virgil’s person. It made him feel oddly exposed. “Why you?”

“I ask myself that every day,” Virgil shot back without thinking.

“I’m well aware.” He eyed Virgil once more, then sneered.

Wow, rude. “Alright, I don’t really care about you or what you think of my kind, but I would like it if you fucked off.”

He quirked a brow. Some semblance of interest crossed his features. “What’s making you so bold?” He took a step toward Virgil. “You’re the timid one. You second guess all your moves and think long before you act.”

Virgil stopped messing with the pen. “Well, for one, you’re wearing my face. So I’ve already lost all respect for you. And you’re messing with my friends. No amount of fear is going to stop me from saving them.”

The other Virgil didn’t respond. He simply stared. Like a cat that observes a moving toy before deciding to pounce.

“Why is it not affecting me?” Virgil had to keep the conversation moving. “If you find me so boring why let me be free from it?”

“How do you know that you are?” A smirk slid across his lips. “What makes you so certain that this is even happening at all?” He walked passed Virgil. “You can’t possibly believe that out of everyone, you were the sole person to be unaffected --” Virgil’s stomach did a flip -- “there's two powerful Magi, another one that can barely hold that title, and a human that’s just better than you in general.”

Alright, this dude was getting the name Anxiety for being an asshole. Also for being scarily accurate to Virgil’s own thoughts.

“If they couldn’t avoid it, how could you? There’s nothing special about you.” Virgil shifted to look at him. “You’re just a human -- and not even a good one. You fail at everything you try to do, and you think you have the ability to save someone? Don’t you think that if it was that easy Logan and Patton would have done it by now?” Anxiety looked Virgil right in the eye. He didn’t seem as intimidating before as he did now. “But they haven’t. So suddenly you think you can do things that not even magical creatures can do.”

“Someone has to,” Virgil mumbled.

Anxiety laughed. A sharp sound that echoed off nonexistent walls. “And that someone is you? Just look at you.” He threw a hand out to emphasize Virgil’s appearance. “Is this what a hero looks like?”

Virgil sunk into his hoodie. It felt too big now. None of his clothes fit right. He was standing out against the shadows. There were eyes looking at him -- judging him. He couldn’t make himself any smaller.

“And look at them.” Anxiety turned around and swept a hand out. As he did so, the shadows seeped away to reveal Virgil’s friends. They looked even more distressed than the last time he saw them. Anxiety glanced back at him. “Think you can fix this? Can you change anything about this at all?”

He…

“Can you?” Anxiety's voice boomed. His eyes changed -- shadows started to creep into them until they were filled with pitch black. In an almost immediate reaction, the others cried out in various levels of distress. They lowered themselves to the floor with a different reaction to what they saw. Thomas curled in on himself, breath hitching. Roman stayed surprisingly still and silent. Patton’s hands flew to cover his mouth. Logan’s hands curled in his hair with his eyes shut tight.

“Stop it.” It came out at a whisper. “Stop.” He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t look anymore. “Just -- just stop. Why are you doing this?”

Anxiety’s eyes returned to normal. “You think you five were my first choice? I have better things to do with my time than mess around here, but a contract is a contract and I am bound to complete it. No one is happy with this, trust me.” He put his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Contract?” Virgil furrowed his brows. “What contract? For who?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

Virgil ignored how cold his limbs got. This wasn’t ideal. A literal boogeyman had them all trapped because someone wanted him to. What was the right way to go about this?

“But you -- why are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

Anxiety rolled his eyes. “You’re afraid of everything. So why are you here? With them.” He motioned to the others. “I know for a fact that you would rather have your old life back. Even if it meant you never got to meet Thomas. So why do you continue to come back to them?”

“I have to --”

“You have to? You don’t have to do anything. You could very well go on your own way and they wouldn’t do a thing to stop you.” He started walking toward the others. “Is it because you’re scared of them? Of what they can do?” He put his hands on Patton and Logan’s heads. They shuddered in response. “Ooh, if you only knew the secrets they have buried -- you’d be terrified. Would you like to learn some?”

Virgil couldn’t open his mouth.

“Do you want to know how many people Patton has killed? What about what Logan had to do to survive?” Another smirk began to crawl onto his face. “I could tell you all of their darkest fears -- every one of their secrets. I know how much you hate those.” He moved over to Thomas. “What about this one? The little boy who’s still scared of the dark. And we don’t even have time to unpack the mess of that one.” He pointed to Roman. “What do you think? Just because I’m forced to be here doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”

How in the hell was he supposed to respond to that? His friends’ secrets were theirs to keep. If they wanted to say it in their own time then they would. There was no way in hell he’d make that mistake again.

Anxiety crossed his arms. “There’s no way you can lie to me, Virgil. I’m inside your head -- I’m in theirs too. I could tell you what each of them is seeing if you wanted. It’s some juicy stuff if you ask me.”

“I don’t want to know. Keep it to yourself.”

Anxiety gave a mock pout. “Aw, you’re hurting my feelings.” He fell back into his unamused glare. “Face it, Virgil, you don’t want to know because you’re scared of what will happen if you find out. You’d rather be ignorant to their crimes and go on believing that they’re all innocent little angels. Well, they’re not as innocent as they seem.” He moved around Thomas. “You have a right to fear them.” He began walking back over to Virgil.

Virgil held his ground. He couldn’t let himself fall for any of his tricks.

“Do you want to know why Patton and Logan won’t talk about their human friend? What was his name…?” He paused to think about it. “Remy. That’s what they called him, at least. There’s a very good reason they wouldn’t want you to know.”

“Don’t.”

“Why?” Anxiety looked personally offended. “You have a right to know. Why would a close friend of theirs suddenly fall off the face of the Earth?” He shrugged. “Personally, I don’t know why Magi like them would even entertain the idea of befriending humans. Seems like tedious work. Especially when they die.” He sucked air through his teeth. “It must hurt even more when it’s your own fault.”

Virgil didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Anxiety continued on anyway. “He was their best friend for such a long time. Right up until the end. Unfortunately, he met that end a little sooner than he should have. He was right around your age actually.” He tapped Virgil’s chest with a finger. “Just something to consider.”

“Do you have a point?” He needed to act like it didn’t matter. Like it didn’t cause millions of questions to stir in his brain or cause his hands to feel clammy.

“Oh, yes, the point.” He smirked. “The reason they wouldn’t want you to know. Well, it’s simple really.” He shrugged again as if the answer should have been obvious. “It’s all their fault. Why would they want you to know about them getting their best friend killed? It’s frowned upon to kill your pets, you know.”

Virgil frowned. “You’re lying to me.”

“Me? Lie?” He put a hand to his chest in offense. “I just told you that I’m inside their heads. I can see everything that they do. And I’m telling you, with full honesty, that Remy is their biggest regret. Emile Picani regrets killing his friend, Remy Magada.”

“You -- I can’t -- no.” Virgil spun around so he wouldn’t have to see him. “I don’t believe you. Picani wouldn’t -- he isn’t capable of that.”

Anxiety appeared in front of him. “What makes you so sure? You barely know him. He’s lived a long life. There’s a lot you don’t know about him -- a lot he wouldn’t want you to know.”

Virgil couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t. He had to turn around again.

“Are you honestly willing to rescue someone who will end up leaving you for dead? He’ll do the same thing to you that he did to Remy. And then he’ll do it to Roman. Do you want to risk that?”

He didn’t want to risk anything.

“Might as well leave now. Running away is what you do best, isn’t it?”

Of course, it was. That’s all he ever did. Maybe it was what he should do now. He wasn’t a fighter. He wasn’t someone who could come to the rescue. He was just a coward. He couldn't do anything. He never should have even come. Why did he think he had a chance? He didn't have any helpful qualities. He should leave -- he had to leave. There was nothing for him here.

He took a step, ready to run away with his tail between his legs, but he noticed something. Thomas. He sat curled in a ball with tears streaming down his face.

What the hell was he doing?

Virgil blinked a few times, his mind clearing of the weird fog it found itself in. The voices stopped. Everything urging him to leave -- everything saying he couldn’t do it -- was gone. Those weren’t his own thoughts. He closed his fist around the pen. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What?” Anxiety almost sounded angered.

Virgil turned to face Anxiety, determination set in place. “I’m not leaving. Nothing you say will get me to run away.”

Anxiety scowled. “So what? You’re going to be the hero now? You? Do you honestly think you’re capable of that? Do you think they’ll think of you like one?”

“It doesn’t matter what they think. It matters what I think. And I think I’ve entertained you for too long.”

“Why aren’t you listening to me?” Anxiety’s voice warped further. The angrier he got, the more twisted it became. “You’re just a human! How are you able to ignore me?”

Virgil clicked his pen. This time, a dagger filled his hand. “Because I know when the voices in my head are wrong.” He lurched forward and thrust his dagger into Anxiety’s stomach. “Plus, I kinda hate myself. So maybe using my face wasn’t the best idea.”

He yanked it out.

(Next)

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #stabbing tw #platonic prinxiety #logicality #coinverse #this is the longest chapter #like wow

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thebellwitchblog · 6 years

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Some Things I Feel the Need to Address in Fandom

Hello there! I’ve been in fandom for a long time and as such have witnessed it evolve into what it is today. I wasn’t around during the times when people feared Anne Rice and her lawyers, but I did pop into the scene soon after when the horror was still fresh in everyone’s minds, and I’ve been around in some capacity ever since. Fandom has always always had problems that needed addressing, and that’s what I intend to do in this post. Yes, there are plenty of posts just like this one floating around Tumblr and other sites where fandom gathers, even in the author’s notes of fanfiction where disclaimers once stood.

All fandoms across the board have the same problems, some more so than others, but the same general themes show up. Of course depending on the canon material there are more problems of certain types than others, but really most problems stem from one thing: People are trying to police how others experience fandom.

What do I mean by this? Well, simply put, select people are trying to decide what is and isn’t acceptable for other people to do in fandom. This goes beyond educating about polite ways to interact with each other and straight into deciding what is or isn’t okay to headcanon or ship.

The major problem with this is that fandom arose from people that were passionate about some creative work or another and wanted to share this passion with others, even if they didn’t agree on certain aspects what bound them together was their shared love for the source material. There have always been ship wars and discourse in the communities, but here within the last few years, particularly here on Tumblr, these have gotten out of hand.

It is perfectly fine to disagree about who should be paired together, to disagree over headcanons and how characters should be remade. It’s okay to disagree, but once disagreements become demonization and a toxic us vs them ideology then fandom becomes a dangerous place. I’ve witnessed all out vicious wars on here over things like shipping a 17 year old with someone in their mid-20s. This isn’t okay.

Fanon is literally anything you want it to be. That’s why it isn’t canon. Fanon is taking the canon and changing it up as much as you would like until it’s perfectly suited for you. Do you ship these two characters? Great now they’re together in your fanon. Do you think this character gives off major ace vibes? Well guess what! They’re ace! In your fanon. Your fanon does not under any circumstances get to invalidate someone else’s. Let me repeat that one more time, but bolded. Your fanon does not, under any circumstances, get to invalidate someone else’s.

So far I’ve talked in really general terms, but now I’m going to address some more specific things I’ve seen. Again, these aren’t about any specific fandom, but specific problems I’ve seen people fighting over in multiple fandoms.

Shipping minors with adults. This is, not gonna lie, a very very iffy area and it comes up a lot. Whether or not this is okay is dependent on the age gap. NOT the age gap in the canon work, but rather the age gap in your fanon. What do I mean by this? Well, let’s say a character in canon is 21 and you’re wanting to draw them with another character that’s maybe 15 in canon. How could this be made remotely okay? Easy! Age up the younger or de-age the older enough that they’re within an acceptable age gap. This sort of stuff has existed in fandom since the dawn of fandom. It’s really nothing new. Note: This is not pedophilia! Pedophilia, by definition, is a chronophilia (sexual attraction to individuals within a specific stage of life), and mental illness, characterized by the sexual attraction to pre-pubescent children, which the DSM-5 includes up to age 13, by adults. Even without changing the ages, a 15 year old being shipped with a 21 year old is not pedophilia. It is Hebephilia or, more likely, Ephebophilia depending on whether the 15 year old is experiencing puberty or just after it and what definition of the two you reference as these have not been formally included as a mental illness as of yet and thus do not have an agreed upon age range, but regardless 14 and 15 year olds do not fall in the range of pedophilia.

Shipping canonically non-het characters in het relationships. This is what we’ve been doing all along with cishet characters this entire time, guys. Literally probably 90% of slash/femslash (oh geez are these terms even used anymore? I think I’m showing my age) is two canonically heterosexual characters being shipped in a pretty gay relationship. Granted this usually happens because there wasn’t a lot of representation, but now that representation is growing it’s to be expected that people are going to do the same with the LGBT characters. This goes right back to what I touched on earlier in this post- let everyone experience fandom like they want. Note: It is not homophobic to ship a non-het character with someone of the opposite gender just like it’s not heterophobic to ship two het characters in a gay relationship. This especially goes for characters that we don’t know their sexuality specifically we just know that they’re non-het.

Feeling like the creators of the source work owe you something. This one isn’t something you see outright stated a lot, but it’s evident in how people act towards animation studios, authors, etc. Whenever something doesn’t go how people want it to in the canon, then people practically riot and threaten the creators- even the voice actors and actors will get hate from fans when they don’t have any, or very minimal, control over where the story goes. Yes, you can get upset over what happens in the canon and get worked up, but when it gets to threats and absolute chaos? Especially when it’s just a rumor? That’s not okay anymore. That’s when it gets toxic. We have headcanons and fanon for a reason. It’s there so that if the canon material goes completely opposite of what you’d like you can still have that perfect ending. That’s a large part of why we have fanworks.

Other Problematic Ships. Policing ships isn’t always due to age gaps. I’ve witnessed it with canonically abusive characters a lot, for instance. Regardless of why a ship is “problematic” there is no excuse for telling someone they cannot ship it. Not only does this fall back to the whole “Let everyone experience fandom how they want” ideology I’ve brought up on multiple occasions throughout this post, but also they can interpret this ship however they want. People disregard canon a lot in fandom, so why is this any different? More often than not the character isn’t abusive in their fanon no matter what the canon might say. Even if the character is still abusive in the ship, that doesn’t mean they’re not allowed to ship it. I’ve talked to some people where these ships were an honest to god coping mechanism for them after they got out of an abusive relationship. Note: This does not make it okay to romanticize abuse.

These next few points aren’t specific to fandom but instead Tumblr as a whole that are a huge problem in fandom as well.

Echochambers. Tumblr, and social media in general, is notorious for this. People surround themselves with like-minded people and block anyone that even slightly differs from their opinions. Why is this a bad thing? Because when we’re surrounded by the same viewpoints our viewpoint narrows. A lot. And misinformation spreads faster and is harder to get rid of. Not to mention other problems such as nurturing an us vs them ideology. Things get blown out of proportion, people become unable to cope with opposition, and it’s just not a good time for anyone involved.

Callout Culture. Callout posts are so so so common that it is honestly overwhelming. If you’ve been on this site and actively posting for any length of time, you’ve probably been called out by someone for some perceived crime against humanity. Whether or not you actually committed this crime, or if this “crime” is actually worth the backlash, you’re now blacklisted by a varying number of people depending on how many followers the person has. Congratulations! Crimes can be, but are certainly not limited to: - reblogging a post from someone you didn’t know was some vile creature in human clothing (whether they actually are one or not doesn’t matter. What matters is they’re considered one). - you used a term you had no earthly idea was a slur. No slap on the wrist for you, you’re going straight to the gallows. - posting fanart of a ship someone considers problematic (see two prime examples above!) Why is Callout Culture such a problem? It demonizes and turns entire communities against someone for minor mistakes or entirely bogus reasons in the first place. If someone makes a mistake they shouldn’t be blacklisted immediately; they should be informed of why what they did was wrong first and foremost and given the chance to change.

Holding Grudges. Please. I am begging you. Let. People. Grow. If someone says something years ago and then not only apologizes but proves they’ve changed? Let it go and move on. What is the point in insisting that people need to widen their views if you won’t let them live down a mistake they made beforehand? If they change then reward their efforts instead of holding their mistakes over their head. This goes for actors and actresses, directors, producers, people here on Tumblr, etc.

I could keep going and bring up even more problems, but honestly I’m tired. It’s time to wrap this up. tl;dr stop acting like you own fandom and let people do what they want. Let people ship what they want, headcannon what they want, etc etc etc. Fandom belongs to everyone and canon material belongs to the actual creator, not you. The only thing you own is the stuff that you make. Mind your own business, stay in your lane, and let things go every now and then. You’ll be a lot happier, I promise.

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judythemoonicorn · 5 years

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I’m 33 years old. That’s over three decades of being alive on this planet. More than that, I grew up throughout a major technological revolution - which in turn resulted in major world-wide cultural evolution. The internet changed a lot. A lot a lot. More than people even ten years younger than me may realize.

But that’s not me bragging, that’s me marveling at the amount of change I’ve experienced both personally and socially. 30 years ago my neighborhood was primarily white with a peppering of latinos (Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, etc.) I lived (and continue to live) on the edge of the border between the North and South sides of my area (Northside is/was primarily slavic/baltic; Polish in the majority, Russians, and a peppering of others and Southside is/was primarily black and latino).

I didn’t see an Asian person in person until I was past 10 years old. Or at least I don’t remember seeing one before then. The only reason I remember that specific meeting is because I was running a lemonaide stand with a friend and a group of chinese (?) people randomly passed by, asked what we were doing, then laughed at us and walked off.

Anyway.

If you were to come to my neighborhood today things are vastly different. I now see asian people on a daily basis. There are germans, french, italians, indians, koreans, japanese, chinese, taiwanese, and god knows I don’t know all the possible places people have come from. My neighborhood is so diverse and busy now I don’t think my younger self would know where she was.

I emphasize this because, again, back then I wasn’t exposed to a great amount of non-whites. I could probably have counted on my hands how many POC classmates I had throughout gradeschool in my tiny, tiny school (my graduating class was 5 students including me). When I moved areas and went to High School, that school was primarily white (Italian) as well.

It wasn’t until my life went to shit and I moved back to my hometown with my mom and I switched schools (for the 4th time) I ended up in a primarily black/latino high school just a few blocks away from where I lived. Which, I should point out, a black child services woman didn’t want to send me to to begin with and acted like I’d be missing out or something if I went there or that I somehow “deserved better” than that place.

It was the first and only high school I went to where no one bullied me. People were kind and deeply interested in me and my drawings that I’d work on all day. I didn’t make any deep friendships; I found people treated me more like a curiosity all things considered, but people were amicable with me. Even if they weren’t always with each other (a LOT of fights broke out in that school, and it was the first one I’d been to that had students pass through a metal detector every morning).

Then it happened. The day came when a bunch of people were looking through my sketchbook and marveling at my work, and the girl holding the book turned to me and said something along the lines of “you don’t draw black characters?”.

I can’t say exactly what I felt at that time. Kind of shocked, kind of embarrassed. The thought had honestly never once occurred to me. Was I even allowed to do that? I’m ‘white’ after all. There’s a lot I’m not allowed to do, or I’ve always been told I’m not allowed to do, when it comes to POC. My father was/is pretty damn prejudice against just about everybody. I never saw the need to be, but my exposure was also very small to black families and their home and social cultures and the like. How could I, a Polish/Lithuanian girl who at that point in my life had practically no friends or real social relationships and a still blossoming access to the internet, be allowed to draw a black character?

Did I even have the right marker colors? (I only seriously took up digital art after I turned 18, before then I colored with alcohol-based markers like Copic and Prismacolor.)

It felt like a door opening. I was given permission to draw a black character. Someone had asked me why I wasn’t already doing it, and now I felt I had to. I remember very specifically buying a magazine where it had a photoshoot of some kind in it of Beyonce - who I felt and still feel is extremely beautiful. Plus she was the current hotness at the time so she seemed a natural fit for reference. I was studying for the GED at that point in my life, in a small ramshackle classroom where I was one of two total white kids surrounded by mostly latino guys and gals. People constantly asked me why I was there. I used “big words” (I still can’t believe someone said that to me...) and I was “really talented”. Life doesn’t really care what color your skin is.

Anyway, so I picked a picture I liked and went to it. I was nervous. Drawing the actual figure of the character wasn’t the hard part. Coloring her skin was. I didn’t have many brown colored markers, and markers were expensive for a young woman with no income. I’m talking sometimes $5 a marker. Prismacolor was cheaper and easier to get, but the color quality varied. I had tons of light-skinned colors. Only one brown I felt suitable for a black person.

Long story short on that one I created a character I really quite liked, and I was met with approval from my peers as well. It felt good. But I still felt I was missing the grand picture.

What did it mean to be ‘black’? In a physical sense, I mean. If I was meaning to portray the physical then surely it was more than just a skin color. Even I knew back then that I couldn’t just slap a darker skin color on a random face and call it a day. Half the time that’d just be a really tan ‘white’ person. I was so worried about not having the right marker color back then perhaps in part because it would be the only thing that distinguished the character I was creating as black. I was only drawing generic anime faces back then. What made the character read as ‘black’? There had to be more to it.

I think after that I started to take it as an observational fascination. There was a teacher at the GED program who was a tall, lean black man who played in a jazz band as a saxophonist, and I would stare at him the whole lesson (probably a little too much). He was perfect in my eyes for what I was looking for and what I hadn’t been exposed to growing up. The shape of his nose, his cheeks, his eyes, the gloss of his dark skin under lights; the way the palms of his hands were lighter than the rest of his skin struck me as romantic. I wanted to hold them and stare at them and study the lines I could so clearly see compared to my own pale hands. I never had a crush or anything like that despite the way I tell it, it just felt like an epiphany. Here I had someone to actively study. A model. Someone who was a mentor to me and I didn’t have to go through the social hoops of being a family friend or something.

Color was important. Absolutely important. But so was structure, attitude, body language, the shape of the face and the joints of the hands. The whole body had quirks to it that rang him as human just like me, but different unlike me. It’s hard for me to fully put it into words when I’m trying to describe it from a purely artistic sense. In the normal freaking world people are just people. But like I said before; when you want to recreate or portray the physical in a drawing/painting/whatever, there’s a whole other layer to it all. It’s like the real world is a photograph - very exact and to its own point. An illustration needs to capture the soul of a moment and all the elements that come with it.

There is a way to draw a woman that portrays her as a woman. To give hints to her personality and all else that she is. It’s like that. I needed to know what made a POC what they were beyond picking the right shade of red-brown.

And I say all this, I emphasize all this, because oh my god I see so many posts on Tumblr calling out ‘white people’ on their lack of ability to properly color black or brown characters. Or they call out whitewashing, or they call out characters being ‘too ashy’, and the accusations fly because holy shit a white person who’s been white all their life doesn’t know how to draw black people. Can you even believe?

I’ve literally seen images that feature extremely, purposefully washed-out color schemes getting railed against because one of the characters is dark skinned but the wash-out makes them look ‘white’. I remember that time Beyonce did a photo shoot and the lighting and makeup made her look very light-skinned and people called her out for whitewashing herself.

Maybe I don’t understand. I fully admit that. I’m only a simple, not-that-professional artist trying to understand the world. But I do want to believe there’s a lot more to being who you are than how you were born, who you love, or what color your skin is. When I see someone like Beyonce I see Beyonce. I don’t see a black woman. I see a woman who happens to be black. But maybe this, too, is ‘privilege’... And maybe there are things I can accept for the sake of artistic expression without the weight of racism or bigotry weighing on my mind and soul. I have to acknowledge that, too.

I sure mentioned Beyonce a lot. Jeez. Her and Rihanna are like the two most beautiful women in the world in my opinion though. And I often have Naomi Campbell on my mind too because she was a muse for Naoko Takeuchi when doing an illustration of Setsuna/Sailor Pluto. So.

ANYYYYbutt... As a closing thought, I have to wonder how different my thinking would be if I were a young artist today with all this access to resources and tutorials and every color under the sun with digital art. And a lot of people talking down to me about how awful I am as a white person for not knowing how to shade darker skin. There’s a lot of posts like that. Hm. Tumblr is a weird place.

#personal #art talk #clipped for length #judy goes on about drawing POC #and being old

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scribblechill · 6 years

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On Thundercats Roar, the Calarts Style, and ‘Toxic Masculinity’

Okey, I know I rarely, rarely make blog posts. If I have something to say about cartoons or the animation sphere I would probably make a video on my channel. But I believe that this matter is not a suitable topic for a potential video, and also I’m still kind of on my Youtube hiatus. Anyways...

There is a reason why Thundercats is hated so much, and it’s because of the plight of the ‘Calarts style’. A lot of people, especially those who grew up with cartoons from the 80′s and 90′s, criticised the show for repeating the art style repeated in modern 2010′s cartoons such as Steven Universe and Gravity Falls, and that the Thundercats reboot is no more than an epiphany for the ‘lazy’ style in all contemporary cartoons.

But is this true?

The modern ‘calarts’ style is constructed from drawing a circle, and drawing a bracket, representing the lower jaw, that protrudes out, as seen in this image:

As an artist who has emulated and utilised this style, I can say that this is perfectly true. But now let’s look at the other side, the 80′s- The 80′s style is primarily based on realistic human anatomy and proportions, with accurately depicted muscles.

But here’s the catch. The education process of an animator within an art school is rigourous- students are required to attend mandatory figure drawing classes, where their skills when it comes to anatomy and perspective are drilled to perfection. The artists who animate with the calarts style, and the artists who made the original Thundercats have no doubt gone through this process- with all that intense training, one could probably regurgitate a human figure as easy as...well, drawing a circle with a jaw below it.

Image credits: Reiq from Deviantart

I do agree that there is more effort that is placed into defining emotions and muscular features in the original Thundercats and many 80′s cartoons. However, the fact that they regurgitated the real life anatomy does not make them any more, or less, creative than contemporary cartoons.

Look at Lion-O for a start, he is supposed to be a human-cat-alien. However, all the character designers did is illustrate a normal, muscular person, change the eye size to match a cat, and made the skin orange. It’s practically one or two cat features stuck to a perfectly standard rendition of a male figure that the artist could have drawn a million times during anatomy class in animation school.

And hence, like how the ‘Calarts’ style is based off a regurgitated circle and a bracket, the 80′s cartoon style is based of a regurgitation of standard human anatomy that is commonly understood by all artists- including modern animators in Calarts. Anime uses a regurgitated style, so as comic books. But how about this image?

So are 80′s cartoons a pile of shit too?

No, the creator of this image has obviously nitpicked the characters from contemporary animation. But it does tell the point that the ‘repetitious, lazy style’ argument could work both ways, and it could be true with exceptions at the same time. The point is- each era of animation have a stylistic/anatomical thing that is repeated, and that’s fine! Because in the cartoon industry a lot of artists work between shows, and this result in their style being intertwined between many dominating shows within the industry. Both style has their beauty- the 80′s, muscly, realistic style is a celebration of how life-like and realistic you could make a series of moving pictures to be. And the Calart style looks fluid, lively, and well, cute.

Though the design from Thundercats Roar might have been too much of a generic copycat (ba dum tss) of the Calarts style, let’s remember there are many amazing cartoons that are animated in the same style, but are beloved and are appreciated for their artistic beauty. For a start- Wonder Over Yonder, created by Craig McCracken, who surprise, came from Calarts himself. We should appreciate each era of cartoons- past, present or future, and of course, be free to criticise it too. And we should not allow one bad fruit in the basket to ruin it all for everyone.

But there is one last thing about this whole Thundercats thing I want to address. I think this comment left by a fellow on Youtube highlights this problem I want to talk about best.

‘When I see this style (Calarts), I don’t think ‘cutesy’. I think racist bigoted, vindictive, far left authoritarian. This drawing style is a huge warning sign that you’re dealing with the someone who’s really into violence and revenge, but deluded enough to think they’re childlike and fun.’ -anon

This is one of the biggest problem with the whole issue- people politicising the Thundercats reboot and the Calarts style.

Basically the consensus is- the Calarts style and the Thundercats reboot itself is an attempt from leftists and SJW’s to stifle ‘toxic masculinity’, otherwise known as ‘the war on boys’. As we have all noticed- the original Thundercats is very masculine, while the reboot looks cutesy and non-threatening. Many people believe that this reboot is a small part of the agenda from the liberals imposing feminine standards on young boys at school, in the media they consume and in society, instead of allowing them to have rough and tumble play.

Let me get this straight first- I do believe that this is an issue with the western education system in many western countries, especially Sweden. But I’m not here to talk about politics, I’m here for animation.

The modern cartoon style portraying their characters as more cutesy instead of more masculine is not a large social engineering project, but it’s instead a mix of the change in writing style and economics.

First of all, large corporations like Cartoon Network has no intention on manipulating kids to be more feminine. They just market, greenlight, and promote what sells. It’s called business. The cutesy style is trendy nowadays- so networks today promote it. The muscle-man, masculine style is trendy back in the 80′s, so networks promoted it before. Welcome to the free market.

Second of all- the writing style. The entire Calarts style started with the ‘cartoon renaissance’ of the 2010′s- catalysed by shows like Adventure Time and Gravity Falls. These shows not only brought a new art style, but they also brought something back that has been mostly eroded in the previous decade- story and character development. The imperative part of character development is relatability, and this would mean the rejection of ‘Mary Sues’, or perfect flawless characters.

It lies in the visual narrative- a worked up person with large muscles- as portrayed in Thundercats, does not seem as ‘relatable’ as maybe a more bubbly, cutesy, character, because the fact is that the majority of us do not look, and more importantly, feel like that. But unlike the Thundercats reboot, this bubbly Calarts character design in many good contemporary cartoons juxtaposes with the character’s surrounding world, which is often illustrated to be much darker, and included more physical and emotional challenges they have to face. They are more appealing because the audience, whether they are kids are adults, realise that someone meek and not very insignificant like themselves, represented by the ‘cutesy’ style, could fight and fare along in a world that’s dark, complex, and that they can overcome the hurdles in their personal life like family relationships etc (classic examples being Gravity Falls, Steven Universe, Adventure Time, even Gumball, OK KO and Star Vs to some extent) and that they could do so too. They are not more appealing to the audience because the audience is being brainwashed into being more feminine.

A lot of the people supporting the notion that the Calarts style is representative of the feminisation of society will point out that cartoons today do not show and encourage people to take action on their own flaws, and that the audience is shielded from reality and are replaced with rainbows and sunshine to ‘feminise’ the children, and some of them end up calling artists and animators that utilise the Calarts style as ‘cucks’, ‘soyboys’ (lol) and ‘betas’ and are obsessed with their ideologies and social engineering. When in fact, cartoons today have been promoting the idea of overcoming one’s own flaws all the time, (Maybe not in Thundercats Roar or TTG but in Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Star vs. etc) and are in fact building stronger people in real life, all thanks to the fact that the audience could actually relate increasingly to more modestly, cutely designed characters.

Img cred: Know Your Meme

And I have to say, I personally think a lot of them are completely new to the modern cartoon/animation sphere and they just popped in because they saw this Thundercats reboot, and just because of that one reboot they came up with the notion that the Calarts style and the entire cartoon industry is stifling masculinity. No offence to them at all. But like I said earlier, the cutesy style actually creates a sense of reliability and juxtaposition for the audience that a more masculine and strong illustration style like the original Thundercats might not be able to offer. It’s only that Thundercats Roar failed to create this sense of juxtaposition, but it doesn’t mean the rest of the bunch- OK KO, Steven Universe, fail to do so too.

If you are a big fan of cartoons, may I ask you, will the show lose it’s appeal, at least slightly, because...

- Star from Star vs looks more like Wonderwoman

- Dipper from Gravity Falls is an alpha with gains.

I’m well aware that this is could be different between person to person.

The point is, the fact that we are politicising a fucking art style and calling everyone who uses and endorses it as your political opponent, shows how emotionally driven this whole debate is. Fans of the former Thundercats have every right to be mad at the reboot- it is a bastardisation of the original and a disrespect towards the original creator. However, turning this nostalgic rage into political stigmatisation and blanket generalisation of the many hardworking artists and animators that just get along is childish in itself. Sure, some artists might actually believe that masculinity is toxic, whoever designed the characters in the Thundercats reboot might be lazy- but the majority of those people who use the Calarts style, or come from Calarts, want to pursue their passion, make the best animations they could, and put food on the table.

The political issues implied are very real, but using them to emotionally justify one’s rage against these artists is not right.

It takes some balls for you to voice out against social change (despite doing it in the wrong place), but it takes a real man to pursue the gruelling yet rewarding art form of animation.

#thundercats #toxic masculinity #soyboy #thundercats roar #thundercats reboot #calarts style #80's cartoons #i'm sorry

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kiyoitsukikage · 6 years

Text

First Databook Character Sheets

Yoshi! @silalcarin asked me to do Hinata's concept art + Masashi-sensei's inteview (which, I discovered, is not really an interview, but a description of the pictures).

To be honest, I might have misinterpreted your request (maybe you just wanted the part regarding Hinata), but the interview was very interesting and I got carried away (especially after I saw that there was also something about Jiraiya). So...

Some terms you’ll meet in this interview:

- 設定 settei. I translated it with “setting”, “creation”, “design”, “character sheet” and so forth. Basically, it’s a character’s or a place’s concept art, to be used as a reference (it can be both for the artist’s staff, for the animators or for the artist himself, for later uses).

- 先生 sensei. It obviously means ‘teacher’, but it’s also the form you use when you speak to artists who became famous in their field: when they say sensei here, they mean Masashi Kishimoto.

- イメージ ime-ji. I often translated it with ‘mental image’. It’s a loanword from the English ‘image’, sometimes used as a verb meaning ‘visualise’. It has mostly to do with the author’s imagery of the world.

- 世界観 sekaikan. Literally, the ‘vision of the world’ (I translated it with various words). It’s the outlook of the fictional world, how the world of Naruto looks like. In this interview, it’s mostly used with the expression ‘slightly off’ (when Masashi-sensei decided to discard an idea because it would sound inconsistent/weird in the Narutoverse).

- 読切 yomikiri. ‘Non-serialised story’ (though I should have translated it as ‘one-shot’ or ‘pilot’ probably), as opposed to the Naruto serialisation. I guess they’re referring to this one. I think that’s something a newbie artist draws for manga editors, a sort of let’s-try-and-see-if-the-readers-like-the-story.

- 打合わせ uchiawase. I translated it as “preparatory meeting”, I guess that’s something the artist and the producers do before publishing stuff. It can also mean “previous arrangement”.

- 担当 tantou. Translated it with “the ones in charge”, maybe I should have gone with “supervisor” or something. But, ah, you get the idea.

There. The numbers correspond to the pictures. Anything between square brackets is something I added up to clarify my translation.

[Sideband:] Character sheets

The Nine-Tailed Mythological Fox Spirit

“This is the non-serialised Naruto”

The non-serialised Naruto had the appearance of a human, but he was a fox inside.

Though in the present setting the mythological fox spirit is sealed inside Naruto…

Before the serialisation was decided, I changed it in a preparatory meeting with the ones in charge of it.

The demon fox is intense, they said.

No matter if he takes a human shape, he’s a fox really, then the readers won’t be able to sympathise with Naruto… they said.

And I also ended up thinking something like… “that’s pretty true” (laugh).

“This is the Nine-Tails drawn for the first time”

This is the Nine-Tailed Mythological Fox Spirit I drew in the spur of the moment as the image expanded [in my mind].

And then, since I was pleased with it, I used it as it is also in the main event [as opposed to preparatory sketch].

I traced it with a lightbox (laugh).

For this reason, I drew nothing but that after all, the Nine-Tails (laugh).

However, also the appearance of the present world of “Naruto” spread from it in some respects. Of course, also things like the creation of the characters and the development of the story expanded.

So it’s like the concept art drawn in order to transmit the story and the setting to the staff, when you make a movie.

[I always rejoice internally when I see an awesome artist being a lazy bum. Because retracing a previous painting is something I’d totally do.]

The faces on the Hokage Rock [lit: the Hokage Face Rock, though I couldn’t find a corresponding term in English – it’s only called the ‘Hokage Rock’]

“There was a dog”

That’s the only thing that could upset the present appearance of the “Naruto” world from the root (laugh).

As a matter of fact, the Third Hokage was a dog, at the beginning.

He was the dog the Second Hokage had, an exceptionally awesome dog, so I tried to make him elected as Hokage in the setting.

Though I thought “It’d be interesting if a dog stood at the summit of the village, what would happen…”

However, in the end I thought that it would be slightly off with the appearance of the world, and I gave it up.

That’s why the present Third was supposed to be a dog.

So I changed it right before the serialisation, erased only the face of the dog in a hurry and it disappeared in the trash (laugh). I used the other parts as they were though.

Hokage

[Actually I’ve read a post long ago in Tumblr where they answered exactly that question, and my greatest regret is that I haven’t saved it and now I can’t add a link here, because it was freaking hilarious]

“There’s a heinous face (laugh)”

My mental image of the Hokage wasn’t quite settled at first. The first and the Second… I had put an x-mark on the First, but they haven’t changed much from now since the mental image in relation to these two was good enough; however, the Third and the Fourth Hokage are impressively different.

The Fourth had a rather heinous face (laugh).

Well, I had various things going on in my mind.

Design sketches

“The Grass Nin looked like a troop”

The Grass Nin looked like a troop but they couldn’t convince me and I changed them. So, I drew them again, but… this guy (on the bottom right) suddenly turned into Orochimaru, so… finally I was pleased with it and made up my mind about various things (laugh).

“Lovable pugs”

They are the ninja dogs I thought about when Kakashi uses the Earth Release: Tracking Fang Technique. There’s also Pakkun. I like pugs, because they’re cute (laugh). When I drew him, while I made them chat about various things in my imagination I expanded the character’s personality.

“The mental image had almost settled”

The jōnin I thought about before the serialisation began… I mean, the design sketch of the sensei and others. If you look at them, it’s already clear who was going to become which character. Well, if the mental image came clearly, I kinda made up my mind in one shot (laugh).

“I just drew it out of fun”

That’s just what I drew out of fun, right (laugh). This was what I drew once to convey my mental image of Hinata to my assistant though. I intended to draw it being aware of the appearance of the world, but… it turned into a more modern-style girl (laugh).

Discard

“The huge guy was deleted…”

He reached the level of rough sketch, but the just huge and unattractive guy was likely to be deleted from the moment he appeared already. In the preparatory meeting with the people in charge, we ended up saying “he doesn’t make your heart throb from a reader’s point of view, right?”.

Moreover, it was the scene that shows Gaara’s first battle, so I resolutely drew it again.

[In the first caption, it says 金太郎とペットのポチ Kintarou to petto no Pochi. I’m unsure about the meaning, I guess it’s the ‘pet called Kintarou’. Apparently, petto no Pochi is something like ‘Spotty the pet’ (pet with a ridiculously common name).]

“I planned to use it in the Land of Waves volume”

Originally, there wasn’t Zabuza and I had planned to use this character. But I gave it up for the same reason of the discarded character of the page before. (Ah! It’s the character I had made earlier, haha…) I think just about the fact of making the enemy characters entry on stage, that is, how they’re likely to hurt the protagonists. [Twisted sentence here: I guess he means that when he creates villains, he also need to think how they’ll look appearing on the scene and the impact on the protagonists.]

“Serious taste…”

Naruto had just graduated from school so I thought it was okay even if I made him act in a funny way. However, it had turned completely like a story set in a school [学園もの gakuenmono I think it’s intended as a manga genre]… I had forgot about the whole “ninja” thing.

Sound effects lettering

Appearance pattern

“That’s incredibly unskilful”

That’s sound effects lettering practice. They’ve been incredibly poor from the time of the non-serialised story (laugh). I often practiced using various comic strips as a reference. Well, even now they’re not my strong suit really (laugh).

“Having a mental image of moving pictures”

It’s the thing in which I drew some pattern of the production of the scene where a ninja appears, or the scene where they disappear, having a mental image of moving pictures. Once inside your head, the action turns into a moving picture. Then, you draw thinking about the composition you cut out from there.

Signature

[The pictures in which he practiced his signature say (in this order): Masashi (with the ma and sa character written as one), Masashi (all linked together), Kishimoto Masashi (stand-alone characters), Kishimoto (above) Masashi (below, ma and sa together), Kishimoto Masashi (current signature).]

“That’s Naruto’s face together with the signature”

When I write my signature, I put the face of the protagonists. Well, that looks like the practice of that. The Naruto I drew here are all smiling, but I often thought what kind of expression I should do.

“I decided on the spot”

When the serialisation was decided, some friends came and saw me. So, make us an autograph, they said. That time, I ended up saying “Crap… I haven’t thought about my signature!” (laugh). I decided on the spot. Saying “Which should I choose, let’s do this” with my friends.

Jiraiya

“At the beginning, [I decided to] make a fatty middle-aged man”

I had decided from before the serialisation that Jiraiya would certainly appear even in “Naruto”, because of his fame in various ninja legends. At the beginning, I decided that I’d make him a fatty middle-aged man… that he’d transform in an unattractive-faced middle-aged man (like the picture at the very top) when he got angry or excited seeing pretty girls. That that’s why he got stronger when he transformed, but not good-looking. However, I thought that drawing him differently would have been troublesome (laugh). Though he was also supposed to use frogs that are carried on both his shoulders, in the same illustration.

Once, I made them do a two-man comedy act in the character sheet called “Husband and Wife Frog” (laugh).

However, it was difficult from the prospective of the design, so I also give it up…

[I love how he dug out his old ideas, years later, to create Fukasaku and Shima and Jiraiya’s Sage Mode.]

Summoning Animals

“The oriental dragons and western dragons are different” [Actually, it’s “dragons and dragons are different”, with the first being ドラゴン doragon, the transliterated English word dragon, and the second being 竜 tatsu, the Chinese dragon]

This is the dragon I drew thinking that I’d make it Naruto’s summoning. In my mental image, Chinese dragons have a thin body. And western dragons are chubby and have big feet. So, that is an overly fat Chinese dragon (laugh). It became fat and looks like a western dragon…

“Speaking of ninjas, there’s the mental image of frogs”

That’s Gamabunta’s first design. But in the preparatory meeting, since he’s a toad I added warts and made him a toad. Then, I also decided to make him express himself in the Hiroshima dialect. So, I said “I come from the Okayama prefecture, near Hiroshima, so leave it to me” (laugh).

Frontispiece

“It’s a compilation of ideas”

Before the serialization, I drew some reasonable ideas for the frontispiece. I’ve almost never used them though (laugh). However, the picture in which [Naruto] is gardening appears (JC vol.3 pag.86).

“Imagining Naruto that makes graffiti”

That’s what I drew while thinking in what way I could make Naruto paint graffiti on the Hokage Rock.

It’s also the picture I thought I’d use in the first chapter, yes.

“I discarded it myself”

I drew it to use as the first chapter’s frontispiece, but when I thought that to point Naruto’s gaze towards the readers it became unnatural, so I discarded it. It was also slightly off with the appearance of the world (laugh).

Clouds

“Anyway, I love clouds”

That’s the thing in which I just drew Naruto and clouds imagining a moving picture, not to use or not use it.

I’ve liked clouds since I was a child, and also the sky (laugh). That’s why I love things like comics where there are clouds and the sky, and fantasy in which the clouds are whirly like the “Neverending Story” (laugh). I think I want to draw something like that once, too, though. It’d be nice one more whole chapter, a story in which they fly among the clouds (laugh).

...phew, that was long. But very interesting (artistically speaking)~

EDIT (CLARIFYING TRANSLATION)

So, @silalcarin asked me to include in this post something we've discussed about.

Her question was: Were Ibiki, Iruka, Kakashi, Hinata, Anko, etc., were all of these character sketches the earliest concept art? Were these characters the earliest characters Kishimoto created after Naruto himself?

(Apparently, there's a dispute about whether Sakura was created before Hinata or not. Silalcarin also provided me with a translation, made by Koshej back in 2013, which you can read here)

My answer: First of all: yes, they are early sketches. The first line of the paragraph says 連載が始まる前に, which is literally “before the serialization began”. I don’t know where that “I have designed the characters at a very early stage." comes from, to be honest: the Japanese raw of the title says イメージはほぼ決まってました, “the mental image had almost settled/I had almost made up my mind”. So, the other translation is not *wrong*, content-wise, but it’s not what the text says (more like a free interpretation of it). As for the order of creation, I admit I have no idea. The text doesn’t clearly say if they’re the very first characters, or if they’ve been created early in general. I think it’s difficult to say which characters he created first… because I remember I’ve seen other character sketches, which Kishimoto provided at the end of some Naruto chapters (I remember there were Iruka, Konohamaru, Kakashi, Sakura and Sasuke as well), together with some other he discarded in the end. Long story short: 1) yes, Anko and co. are pre-serialized sketches, 2) Koshej’s translation is not wrong in general, but mine is closer to the original one (that’s why I had a hard time explaining the terms, and sometimes my translation is almost unreadable), 3) there’s no way to tell which character was created first after Naruto, unless you’re Kishimoto himself I guess (or at least, this databook doesn’t clarify it here).

So, uhmm, that's what I have to say on the matter. Silalcarin also gave me this link (in which you can read further thoughts on the matter)

Last but not least, I feel like to add a link to another interview I translated, from the fourth databook, in which they talk about character creation and such (unfortunately, the part about Sasuke's creation was too difficult for me to translate, so once again I can't give an answer to the question "were Hinata and company created before Sasuke and Sakura")

#WARNING: LONG POST #silalcarin #(I'm sorry you'll have to scroll down to find the part you want)#translations #first databook #first databook character sheets

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