#something's wrong with her

[mirronhg]

[ Finally something beautiful to look at ]

[cowabinah]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[mymarifae]

dess is the knight. here's why

so, i keep seeing people arguing and being unsure who/what the knight is. lots of people saying that it's carol, or that it's actually none of the holidays and is just connected to them somehow. meanwhile i'm 99.99999999% certain it is in fact DESS. and you know what bumped my certainty levels up from like 75% to that 99.99999999%? gerson.

the dark world was able to use his dust to revive him for a time. he was perfectly himself, and he was in this sort of... limbo state of being a darkner and a lightner. but his funeral rites were followed correctly, minus actually burying his urn. so let's ask ourselves: what happens when the funeral rites aren't followed correctly?

what if they CAN'T be? what if the death is so sudden and horrible and her dust is lost? ... what if a fraction of her dust attaches itself to an object that does not correctly resonate with her soul? what if that's all that you have left of her? this incongruent amalgamation of her-but-not-her? do you throw the object away? no, that's your daughter. your childhood best friend. you're going to cling to the little bit you still have of her and try to bring the rest of her back. let the world end if it must; she's more important.

knight carol immediately falls apart for me for two big reasons, and one is simply that this is not what a lightner would look like in the dark world.

this is a lost, twisted being. this is the other side of the scale gerson was on, of near-simultaneously being a lightner and a darkner.

the other reason i can't buy into knight carol is that the knight was already waiting for susie and kris in the dark world while carol was at home grounding noelle. can the woman teleport? exist in two places at once? no. it's just not her.

anyway, plotholes in knight carol theory aside, there are SO many visual clues that the knight is at least a fraction of dess. if you weren't paying close attention - and good chance you weren't because you had bullets to dodge - you might have interpreted the knight's sword as just a sword. and then later, in noelle's house, you run into carol's katana and it's like, woah wait a SWORD?! that is intentional misdirection. the knight's sword is not a Sword. it's a bat.

here i have a handy and very painstakingly detailed chart just for you

real life + in-game katana vs the knight's "sword" vs real life bats. note the bottom of the knight's sword jutting out in one direction and how the real life black bat does the same thing.

katanas are also not wielded with one hand. the correct posture is with two

now, look how the knight swings her "sword":

if you manage to "win" the fight in chapter three, susie attacks the knight head-on, and chips the sword

and, oh, huh would you look at that-

interesting coincidence. also, the knight turns into a baseball-looking ball multiple times

one more thing. this stained glass window design in the church. it's dess standing below the titan she now shares a body silhouette with

(pardon the shaky outlines i refuse to turn on my tablet right now but hopefully that helps you see what i'm talking about if you couldn't at first)

and this isn't even getting into how dess's song is incorporated into the knight's battle theme. we finally met our girl, guys. it's her

[fizkid]

yatta does NOT play when it comes to her friends

[inkskinned]

okay i almost never address the very small amount of internet fame i have. and sometimes yes it sucks. people often repost my work, or clip it out of context, or flat-out steal it. but like it can be very funny. once a follower dm'd me to say a guy on hinge was pretending to be "inkskinned", and actually had even started his own insta. when she said "i've followed her for years i don't think you're her", he said - actually r.i.d is like seven people, we just made those initials up. (rude). when i found his insta and messaged him, he begged me to just lie and say he was r.i.d because "it's hard for men to date."

once someone said she should be allowed to plagiarize my work because she was a body-positive influencer and that if i "made a big deal" about this and "got her cancelled", i would be doing damage to my own community and i was never "actually" an ally.

i bear these things with the aura of a martyr, the way my catholic father raised me to. i message privately. i handle things quietly and quickly. i do not complain because i am very, very, very, very blessed and i know that. mercy and gentleness literally pour out of me every morning when i wake up, and then i have to mop the floors for how very Good i am.

however today is the first time i have ever had a very specific problem that neither requires me to correct this person nor throw them to the dogs but is somehow worse than years of hatemail, reddit thread death threats, and pinterest reposts:

someone quoted me and just got it, like, a little wrong.

[lazylittledragon]

no she's not coping thank you so much for asking

(extra page for my patronis <3)

[mirronhg]

The hateful three of non-humans.

[specialagentartemis]

“young witch trying to solve the mystery of her neighbor’s missing cat in a small village in the Alps” continues to be hilarious don’t get me wrong but it’s kind of making me want to take a crack at treating the concept seriously. In this insular rural community, a cat goes missing. A young woman who takes her community’s professed ideals of helpfulness and harmony in witchcraft seriously volunteers to try to find him. Realizes the more she searches and the more she asks around that everyone in this idyllic village is quietly seething with resentment against their neighbors and against the world, that the insularity of her village is harboring a festering social rot that no one is allowed to address. No one can leave. The hills have fallen silent. Something is eating the cats and no one is allowed to address this. Ötzi is there

[goldengrecha]

I don't want to imply anything, and I think Carol just isn't this type of person or character to do so, but

But

Buty I can't stop think about that she keeps a fucking sword in kitchen, but also, she calls Noelle to kitchen when she returns to home and very obviously isn't happy.

[616swanda]

This is peak spoiler design i don’t make the rules

[avus-circuit]

Guys the Abbi news is actually so huge. She'll get PAID for that work. LIKE MONEY (very little money, probably, but MONEY). that means that she's made it, essentially. when they ask all the f1a people what their dream is, the ones who don't say "formula 1" say "I would like to make it to a point where I get paid for driving". Like this is actually so important. even if this goes nowhere, she's making money for her talent. (knowing Abbi, though, she really just wants to be in a car and racing lol. she doesn't seem like she'll be satisfied with testing and sim work)

[wickedlyqueer]

gelphie really is that meme of "this is Elphaba, she loves her personal space. This is Glinda. Glinda also loves Elphaba's personal space"

[kensatou]

happy year of the dragon from this guy…

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[teknoctarkamacska]

Eliot when he first meets the others: wow, these people are freaks. Thank god at least i'm normal

Eliot after they successfully pull 1 job: this is my circus now and these are my monkeys, dammit