#the implication is definitely true if you use less than or equals though

[unnonexistence]

trying to do mathematical proofs while tired will have you doing shit like reading the wikipedia page for multiplication

[cenvast]

heyo! i read your analysis on laios and racism and it's an interesting read, and i'm wondering if you ever wrote about marcille relation to it? when she had that argument with chief zon, she seems to see the orcs as a group prone to violence that killed a lot of people and that's why they cannot live outside of the dungeon and doesn't acknowledge how elves and tall-men colonised the orcs land so the orcs are forced to fight them and to live in the dungeon, and the reveal that marcille herself is an elf and tall-man is definitely an added layer to that. i'm interested to see your analysis on this!

You did a great job pointing out and explaining the implications of Marcille's racism in the text in your ask! And thank you for reading my Laios meta, and I'm glad you found it interesting. Marcille's racism is much more textually blatant, so I ended up writing about the text's less straightforward racial commentary first, but I'm very glad you asked about Marcille because I really enjoy her character <3 Here's the Marcille meta with a bit of Kabru sprinkled in:

What Does Being a Gay Half-Elf Have To Do With Imperialism?: On Marcille, Kabru, and Blind Spots

Marcille's relationship to in-universe racial issues is complex. She holds a more privileged position than demi-humans like orcs and the accompanying racist biases against them. Simultaneously, she experiences racial discrimination for being half-tallman from other elves, and this is further complicated by the elves' imperialism negatively impacting tallmen. Unfortunately, Marcille's position as both someone who experiences and enacts racialized harm rings true to real life; people of color can still be racist to other people of color and uphold systems of harm. To clarify, I don't see Marcille as coded as anything other than white in text, but her experiences can, of course, be analogized to real-life racial issues.

Notably, Marcille's mixed-race identity fuels her primary motivation: achieving lifespan equality between the races. Her experiences with her father dying when she was young and feeling othered as a half-elf from other elves motivates her to erase the most glaring difference between the races (in her eyes, at least). We see the races being divided into short- and long-lived categories multiple times, and we can glean that the elves' extended lifespan allows them to more effectively enact colonialism and imperialism. Though it's unclear if Marcille aims to erase inequality on a sociopolitical scale like, say, Kabru, achieving racial lifespan equality would likely weaken the current elven imperialistic structures and promote a higher level of social equality. However, I don't believe her solution would "solve" in-world racism; neither would I say that that's her main goal.

Marcille's motivations are very personal. She wants lifespan equality because of a personally traumatic experience she doesn't want to repeat. Her father died before her, so she doesn't want her other loved ones to die before her. Once again, her main aim is not really stopping elven imperialism. Still, her relationship with elven power remains fraught. She obviously doesn't want to be taken into custody by the Canaries, and her family seems to have had negative experiences with elven authority in the past.

We can draw interesting parallels between Marcille and Kabru. Like Marcille, Kabru has had a personally traumatic experience (being a victim of elven colonialism), which motivates him to rid the world of dungeons. He understands that the elves use the threat of dungeons as an excuse to invade other nations and incorporate them into their empire. In service of maintaining their hold on power, the elves withhold information about dungeons and ancient magic, which would make peoples' lives safer. Kabru perceives his trauma as one instance in a larger tapestry of imperialistic violence. His goal is to strategically target a nexus of elven power by destroying dungeons and thereby, minimize the possibility of others experiencing the harm he experienced. Significantly, Kabru is a Brown man and Marcille is a white woman, which does seem to influence how clearly they perceive their trauma as a result of racialized systems of power or not.

I said that Marcille is gay in the title, so let's talk about Marcille straddling the line between upholding and transgressing expectations of conformity and respectability. She attended the Magic Academy and excelled at her craft, which aligns with being a good citizen, etc. But she also studies ancient magic, obsesses over dungeons, and performs ancient magic to save her loved ones. Interestingly, Marcille has a stigmatized view of dungeoneering as a dead-end job at first and doesn't seem to want to permanently be a dungeoneer. Still, for her research's sake, she joins a dungeon party and ultimately practices ancient magic because of her relationship with Falin.

Throughout her life, Marcille has been strange. Her half-elf identity informs her goal of equalizing racial lifespans which expands into an interest in dungeons and ancient magic. She develops these transgressive interests and enters a research field which is both frowned upon and illegal. This further codes her as queer, forcing her away from the respectable path, so she can pursue her true interests and goals. Her queerness is additionally underscored by her deep love and care for Falin driving her to illegally revive Falin with ancient magic. Her revival of Falin snowballs into her confrontation with and near arrest by the Canaries. Marcille has always been queer in the sense that she pushes back against societal norms in her interests and behaviors; it's an added bonus that her queer interests manifest most intensely in her queer relationship with Falin.

Even within her queerness, Marcille maintains this tension between both upholding and transgressing societal norms. She places expectations of normative femininity onto Falin by discouraging her from wearing her hair short and encouraging her to dress feminine at the cost of Falin's comfort. Once again, if we read Marcille as a lesbian woman (or generally queer woman), she is also actively harmed by reductive, cisheteronormative gender expectations, but like when she voices her racist beliefs against the orcs, she has failed to unpack her own biases, even when they personally harm her.

Overall, Marcille is an example of how a person can hold multiple marginalizations, consistently clash with systems of power, and still hold blind spots and not be fully cognizant of the systems of power at play in their own life.

Another important parallel between her and Kabru is that they're both racist against demi-humans. Once again, Marcille and Kabru holding racist biases underscores how someone can be deeply empathetic and work towards remedying inequality in one area while still failing to recognize how they're complicit in replicating other systems of harm against others. I'd like to think that Marcille will mature over time and come to a fuller understanding of how she can both be injured by and benefit from unjust systems of power.

Thank you for reading! :D

[sapphos-darlings]

In a wlw relationship, does one person usually has preferences in regards to things that would often be gendered in straight couples, like lifting the other up, guiding or being guided in a dance, having your hands on her waist or hers on yours, or do most just don't really have much of a preference and enjoy doing either? Do those gestures mean something, is the one doing the 'top' and the other the 'bottom'? In straight relationships, people often atribute meaning to those things, but I don't know how that works between women. I'm figuring out my sexuality now and I want to date women from now on, but I'm trying to concile that with the heteronormative context I've been in until now, because I keep trying to understand, but I don't, and I think I have to if I'll be dating other women.

It's not quite that black and white and definitely not as rigid as it may seem! There is a culture of butch/femme in the dating scene for gay women, and a more widely spread idea of top/switch/bottom from the gay scene in general, though this one is more relevant to gay men than it is women. The reasons to why this exist are complex and historical, and our other mod (Lavender) may be better equipped to tackle that side, but contemporarily speaking, these roles are not as relevant as they were earlier in lesbian/bi history and subculture.

To establish first: there is generally a celebration of "true" equality in gay relationships, of being free of the sexist implications that have been placed on straight relationships, and the ability to move on the spectrum from feminine to masculine in terms of behaviours, activities and appearance freely. Particularly in relationships between women, the lack of a direct patriarchal influence in the relationship is generally celebrated as a positive. However, in the past, the butch party would assume the traditionally masculine role. Femmes had the appearance and behaviour of more socially acceptable women and provided "shelter" for the gender non-conforming butch lesbians, who dressed and behaved in a masculine manner, sometimes living in the male role in society altogether, regardless of the actual gender identity of the butch in question. These roles were often assumed for survival, and we're talking pre-80s culture here, from the 1900s upwards, during very "nuclear family" and "traditional values" times, the majority of which homosexuality was labeled as a mental illness or was illegal altogether. But it's our cultural heritage, which in better times has become less of a cornerstone of survival and hiding in plain sight and more of an identity, a celebration of who we are - so butch and femme survive to date, and are mostly regarded as valid and beautiful identities to take on in the community.

I'd still say that in modern dating, they're less prevalent than they were before. We still have masculine women and feminine women dating each other, surely, but we also have masculine women dating masculine women and feminine women dating feminine women and women dating women who just don't fit anywhere specific on that spectrum. It's very much up to a person's nature and preference; playing into each other's strengths, rather than holding onto a specific role. For example, I'm naturally quite strong, and love picking up my small partner and hauling them around the house for the sheer joy of it. Picking people up is delightful and my partner loves to be picked up. Meanwhile, we do house maintenance together as a team, both of us know how to wield a hammer and work with nails, and if we had a car, we'd be tinkering with that together.

When it comes to roles in dancing or such, it's up to a person's personality and their level of confidence - the one who is confident and tends to take a leadership role in general will likely feel more in their element leading the dance as well. Similarly, in sex, it's up to personal preference: what you like doing, what you don't, and what experiences feel good to you and what doesn't work out. Some people are natural tops, some are natural bottoms, most people like to switch around depending on what the specific activity is all about. Sometimes a top is a dominant personality, sometimes they're a very soft person who simply enjoys to be in "lead" of the act, similarly for bottoms, they may be masculine or feminine or anything inbetween, there isn't a set place for "the woman" or "the man" in a relationship between two women, as it is, and as it should be, a relationship between two women.

In my experience, there isn't an expectation that in any given couple, one of them will assume a masculine or a feminine role and vice versa. This tends to come from the heterosexual world, and is often summed up in the rather unintentionally homophobic, ever-repeating question of "so, who's the man?" Nobody in a relationship with two women is the man, unless one of them or both of them specifically want to be the man, or feel like "the man" is an identity for them. Same with being "the woman". Ultimately, we are all just people, and these are gender roles that patriarchy and heteronormativity enforce across the gender and sexuality spectrum. Inherently, all of us share some traits in common with these roles, but very few of us fit into the set boxes neatly with all our limbs comfortably inside. In gay relationships, one of the most freeing things is to be able to let go of all of that and focus on who you are as a person, and who your partner is, and what you two have together, how you fit each other, how your strengths work into each other's weaknesses, how you support one another as a team.

Restricting yourselves down to one party being "a man" and the other being "a woman" in all things would be unnatural and clip the wings off of the potential you two have together to be strong exactly as you are, regardless of societal expectations.

Hope this answers your question!

[duran-duran-less-official]

The fact that rationalists and rationalist-adjacent types spent all that time thinking about AI and the risks thereof, and came up with any solution other than “institute the Butlerian Jihad” is completely bonkers to me. The easiest way to never accidentally design an evil AI is to simply never design a true AI. I suppose “we strive prevent anyone from designing AI” is a slightly less compelling non-profit pitch though.

What gets me about utilitarians is that most radical ideologies and cults are supposed to lure you in with a series of harmless and nice-sounding policies like Love Thy Neighbour and Equality for All, a long time before they start hitting you with curveballs like Humanity Should Instantly Die Actually.

Utilitarianism can't even do that. The implications of mass human death or suffering start by like the 2nd sentence.

"[The last sensible sounding utilitarian proposition before falling off the deep end:] All people should act in ways that intrinsically or on average provide a net benefit to the human race. [The deep end:] So, logically, in the best possible world in which we create an AI designed to maximally benefit the human race, it must of course be created as early as possible so as to do the most good, and it is therefore incentivised to inflict mass suffering on every person who didn't strive to bring it into existence. Let us now bow before our AI overlord who doesn't exist yet while we strive to bring it into existence as early as possible, that we might be spared its wrath and, uh, also do the most intrinsic good. No, this is nothing like a God, this AI is perfectly real, it just doesn't exist yet. But it definitely will, honest!"

[lightrises]

"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other

A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.

———

So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.

Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]

(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)

In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?

This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!

But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.

"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "

See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.

And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.

Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.

And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.

So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:

[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]

As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,

... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?

Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.

But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.

"We do not choose our mothers... "

On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.

Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).

Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!

The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.

If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.

See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?

I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.

A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.

And this is where things fall apart.

"... or the circumstance into which we are born."

Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".

But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.

This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?

Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.

For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.

It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.

Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.

———

* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.

To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.

[oswinsdolma]

Proving all the Knights of the Round Table have magic part 3: Elyan

I've seen quite a few people headcanon Elyan with magic before, and it's definitely one of the more popular magic!knights hcs, so I apologise if I accidentally hijack anyone else's points xx

The most obvious indicator of this is the fact that Elyan leaves Camelot a year before Merlin arrives. This is about the same age Morgana's magic shows itself, so it would be natural to assume he left because he began showing signs of being a warlock, Camelot's laws being what they are.

It is also implied that Elyan left fairly abruptly, with Gwen having no idea where he went. He may have left in a hurry because somebody might have noticed him, and not told Gwen or Tom for fear of putting them in danger.

Perhaps in a darker note, he didn't say where he was going because he was ashamed of his magic and didn't think his family would accept him.

Gwen says that "[Elyan] always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time". Maybe accidents happen around him because he had trouble controlling his magic and found it increasingly difficult to cover for. This could be another indicator as to why he left.

Elyan didn't return to Camelot even for his father's funeral, and while he expresses his guilt, he doesn't give sufficient reason why: the reason? He may not be able to tell Gwen because he was still scared to return with magic.

When Gwen reveals her relationship with Arthur, Elyan is skeptical, and maybe even a little panicked. After all, would your sister falling in love with someone with the power to set you ablaze not be a terrifying concept to anyone with magic? But when Arthur comes to rescue them and proves himself to be slightly less of a prat than he may think, he tentatively agrees to return home, though I suspect this is mainly for Gwen's sake.

When the immortal army invades Camelot, Elyan manages to stay hidden and fight off some soldiers. Note that he is the only one of the group within Camelot with no Knights' training, which begs the question: how did he manage to escape? The answer could very well lie with magic.

Again, in The Darkest Hour, he is one of two knights that survived the meeting with Morgana. He is one of the more inexperienced knights as well, which suggests that he may have aided himself magically in the fight.

When faced with a seemingly unbeatable threat, Elyan says to Arthur: "tomorrow, we fight in your name, sure. For freedom and justice in this land." Now there is a lot to unpack here, but if we break it down, firstly there is the fact that Elyan places is emphasis on "your" when addressing Arthur. He has previously made a statement about the Pendragon crest, but in this moment, it seems that he cares more about Arthur than this. This is clearly indicative of the fierce bond between Arthur and the core knights, but it could be more than that: the emphasis of "your" is specific to Arthur, but perhaps more importantly, it is an exclusion of Uther. In his time, Arthur has made mistakes, but he has generally been more sympathetic towards magic than his father, and this may be Elyan's subtle way of acknowledging that.

In addition, the words: "for freedom and justice in this land" could just be in reference for Arthur's abilities as king, but this is a deep speech and one would assume it has a deeper meaning. Freedom and justice are two things that have not been afforded to those with magic for a long time. Uther's twisted "justice" involved executing anyone who disagreed with him and anyone who could be vaguely affiliated with sorcery. As for freedom, Arthur has created a fairer kingdom than his father, but magic users still live in fear. Combined with the earlier stress of "your", this is indicative that Elyan too believes that Arthur may one day come to bring peace to anyone who is born with magic.

This last point also has the implications that Elyan knows of the Once and Future King and surrounding prophecies. Though he is described as a troublemaker by Gwen before he comes to Camelot, he keeps his head relatively low upon arrival. Perhaps in the time he spent travelling, he sought help from magical communities, e.g. the druids, who helped him control his powers. This would also explain his vagueness about his whereabouts and lack of contact during the years he was missing.

I could go on about this quote but we'll leave it there for now.

Before he is overtaken by the power of the Lamia, Elyan is vocal in standing up for Merlin. This could be because he knows what it is like to be shunned by society. Magic could be a reason for that. (Also I fully believe that the only reason the Lamia didn't try and take over Merlin was because she was scared of the extent of his magic, not just because he had magic.)(and the merthur reasons when I'm in the mood)

Then Elyan falls sick, before the others begin to show symptoms. Maybe the Lamia sensed some magic and decided he was more trouble than he was worth.

Elyan was not raised by druids, and does not have the same powers as Merlin so wouldn't have sensed the power of the shrine, at least not too strongly. When he first sees the spirit though, he is genuinely sympathetic, even before the murderous intent takes hold.

In the Dark Tower, Elyan is consumed by his need to find Gwen, convinced that he is to blame for her capture. This could be survivor's guilt (and to an extent, probably is), but it is equally probable that Elyan believes that he should have used his magic to protect her.

Going off on a slight tangent here, the theme of "I have magic so it must have a purpose" within warlocks/sorcerers in the show is a) not a healthy mindset and b) uncomfortably common. Elyan may have latched onto the idea that he must use his magic to protect Gwen to convince himself to stay in Camelot, and with that conprmino, he began to fall apart. His behaviour is almost identical to Merlin's fervour regarding Arthur at this point, and it's fairly disturbing that these characters adopt this mindset that is Not Good For Their Mental Heath, Please Get Some Therapy.

Elyan dies. It's heartbreaking, and he does so trying to save his sister. But what is interesting is his funeral. When most main characters die, they are given a funeral in Camelot, e.g. Uther, Lancelot (the first time). But then Freya and Shade!Lanceot (and later Arthur) are set to rest in the Lake of Avalon. The difference between the two is that the lake funerals were arranged by Merlin, and those laid to rest there can somehow be affiliated with magic.

Now I'm not saying that Merlin knew about Elyan's magic, because sometimes he can be really not very perceptive about that (though it's always fun when fics cheerily toss that out the window because it's fun goddamnit-), but I don't believe he was entirely oblivious. Think about it: there are two of Arthur's closest friends canonically hiding magic from him and it's fairly probable that they'll pick up on Elyan's magic at some point. Even if it's just little things like his sympathies with magic or gentle arguments about the way mages are treated. There are so many avenues to explore with this it's overwhelming-

I also think Elyan may have picked up on Merlin's magic later in the series: the point of realisation was probably when Merlin rescued him during his time being possessed by the drowned druid boy, upon which he says: "you know, Merlin, you're much braver than you look." This is the first time Merlin has revealed his more BAMF side to Elyan, and in this moment, something unspoken passes between them. If not mutual understanding, it is at least Elyan realising what Merlin does beneath his carefree exterior, and despite the possession, I think he acquires a lot of new respect for his friend.

(also are we going to ignore that the lake funeral implies that it was arranged by Merlin. How close were they and what stuff did we miss out on behind the scenes for him to be trusted with this?? I need to know)

Elyan and Mordred have a friendship in series 5. If the earlier headcanon about Elyan learning to control his magic with druids is true, perhaps he may have recognised Mordred from his time there. They probably didn't acknowledge it much, but it created a bond between them.

And now for the mythological context!!

Of all the Knights of the Round Table, Elyan's backstory is perhaps the most estranged from the original legend (of course all of them are fairly disconnected *flashbacks to pope-gwaine* but Elyan's is w a c k y)

As a consequence, there is little to draw on for behind-the-scenes evidence of magic.

Elyan, or Helayn, was another Knight whose origins stem from France (the Vulgate Cycle, I think, though he could have surfaced earlier). He is said to have joined Lancelot in exile after his affair of 'courtly love' with Guinevere (go and look up this concept- it gets convoluted in the myths but is really interesting in terms of both origin and content). Anyway, his exile here could represent the time he spent out of Camelot before his appearance in s3, and relates to hiding from harsh laws, particularly if we regard Lancelot and Guinevere's relationship in the same way as we do in the Vulgate Cycle (basically keep the context with the appropriate work and it sort of makes sense)

I appreciate this seems a little like grasping at straws but that's literature I suppose ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In the legends, Elyan is nephew to another of Arthur's knights, Sir Sagramore. This knight is less famous than some, but at one point, he embarks on a quest to find the fay. The fay are closely linked with the she, and perhaps also live on Avalon, somewhere mortals are only supposed to see moments before death. Perhaps Elyan can be associated with this magic?

In reality, there is little written of Elyan and no prose or poetry dedicated to him so it's quite hard to find stuff about him.

Also legend!Elyan is heir to the throne of Constantinople, which just goes to prove how widespread and deeply convoluted the mythos is.

[sailormoonandme]

Why does Usagi think Mamoru might leave/cheat on her?

Occasionally during Sailor Moon R, S and SuperS Usagi seemed to have these moments of insecurity where she was concerned that Mamoru was either interested in other people or else other people might make a play for him.

The real life reason for this I suspect is simply because Sailor Moon has a lot of sitcom sensibilities alongside it’s romantic elements, so milking comedy from a romantic topic by having our lead act over the top or goofy is a logical writing tool to reach for. Especially when you have such a large quantity of episodes to produce.

However, I have a more in-universe explanation to propose.

In real life Usagi’s behaviour would most likely be connected to trust issues with her partner, with other people or else concerns about her own inadequacies. However, I don’t think that’s the case here.

Rather, I think it’s actually far more connected to the numerous times Usagi has loved and ‘lost’ Mamoru.

Back in the Silver Millennium days there was this low key implication that romantic mingling between the Moon Princess and Earth Prince was somehow forbidden. After all when Endymion came to the Moon and tried to warn Serenity about Metalia and Beryl the royal guards chased him away and he needed to disguise himself. So from Serenity’s POV the social system she was living in was limiting her ability to be with the man she loved and made their future together at best uncertain.  

Now, I admit that’s perhaps a bit too big of an extrapolation to draw from, especially for the anime version of the characters where we got far less info about their past lives. However, the more significant part here is the fact that Endymion was taken from her when he was killed by the Dark Kingdom. Seeing her lover murdered in front of her whilst her home were also being destroyed (and her friends killed) would obviously be very traumatic, particularly if Serenity was mentally and physically the equivalent of a fourteen year old like Usagi.  

In her next life she was crushing very hard on Tuxedo Mask who routinely showed up to aid her and then rarely lingered. That’s not exactly traumatic, but the early days of their relationship would’ve still been founded by Usagi seeing the person she wants to stick around and spend time with her leave her when she wouldn’t want him to.

She also feared Tuxedo Mask had died in episode 13 when Jadeite announced that he’d killed him. True, he was revealed as alive and well shortly afterwards, but the horror of that moment (however brief it may’ve been) could’ve stuck with Usagi.

Then, in the iconic 34th episode of the show, Mamoru was violently impaled right in front of her. We can debate if he died and was consequently revived by the Dark Kingdom or if he was merely close to death before his abduction. But either way that’d inevitably be an instance where Usagi once again traumatically lost the man she loved, or at least came extremely close to doing so if not for the emotion of the moment re-awaking her old memories.

Speaking of which, as episode 35-36 make clear, the mere act of abruptly regaining all her memories would be emotionally wrenching all on it’s own. When combined with the tragic and traumatic nature of those memories, it’s far from unbelievable that subconsciously this would further mark Usagi’s psyche.  

The reveal that her lover is alive but no longer remembers her and is actively a threat to her now would obviously compound this. As would the fact that in episode 36 he uses a rose to hurt her. It’s not a serious wound at all, but he still hurt her and used an object that up until then he’d used explicitly to help and protect her. Within Usagi’s mind his roses would’ve likely been ‘coded’ with positive emotions, so seeing them used in that way would’ve been further upsetting for her, in essence a perversion of what they should  mean to her mind. The roses now being black are an apt metaphor for this point.  

Of course during the final stretch of episodes in season 1 Usagi almost  restores Mamoru. But that’s the key here, she almost  succeeds. First it the ski episode where he briefly seems to break out of his brainwashing and then again in the episode where Ryo (and the other Rainbow Crystal hosts) returns. In the latter she actually succeeds in restoring him to normal but he’s abducted immediately once again. Not only did Usagi lose Mamoru a few more times but her active efforts to bring him back to her failed.

We then come to the most traumatic events in Usagi’s second life (up to that point), episodes 44-46.

In episode 44, not only did she once again re-experience the tragic destruction of the Silver Millennium, but she got a ‘bird’s eye view’ of everything that happened, including the specific moments she, Endymion, her friends and even her mother died. True, her sadness or trauma over everyone else isn’t specific to her losing Endymion/Mamoru, however because these events happen so close together and are connected it’s not unbelievable that Usagi’s mind might’ve created an association. So her pain over seeing her mother die is associated also with her ‘losing’ Endymion as well. By that same token, the death of her beloved friends in episode 45 might’ve consequently become associated with what happened next.  

In episode 46 Usagi is outright attacked by a brainwashed Endymion. First she sees him loyally serving her enemy who (by proxy) murdered her friends like an hour ago. Worse she might’ve picked up on the obvious romantic undertones between Beryl and Endymion, including him kissing her hand, and let’s not forget in the flashback from episode 44 Beryl clearly desired Endymion. Whilst intellectually Usagi might know he’s not in his right mind, emotionally seeing him like that with Beryl in that context could emotionally upset her, almost as though he was betraying their love in the worst possible way.  

Endymion’s efforts against her are also significantly more violent and active than anything he did before since episode 36. Dashing a rose across the back of her hand pales in comparison to ensnaring her and shocking her with his roses. Not to mention trying to slice her up with the very same sword he would’ve used to defend her in the Silver Millennium. Even if you don’t buy into my point about perverting these symbols of their relationship, the mere act of him hurting her and trying to murder her like that is going to obviously be emotionally arresting.

In a sense in those horrible moments for Usagi Endymion/Mamoru really was ‘lost’ to her, he merely looked  like her lover. This I think is why it was significant that she actually fought  back against him with her tiara. But since he still looked like her lover and intellectually she knew he wasn’t to blame (and emotionally hoped he was still salvageable) her own act of self-defence horrified her.  

Of course she does save him, but then he dies again. Depending on how you look at it, from Usagi’s POV this is at least the second  time he’s really died and that number climbs higher if you include his presumed death in episode 13 and the number of times she had to re-experience his death in the Silver Millennium. And that isn’t even counting traumatic dreams about him dying in the aftermath of episodes 34-35. It doesn’t help that his mortal injuries in episode 46 are eerily similar to the ones he sustained in episode 34, namely a violent impalement.

We might even argue this is categorically the worst  instance up until this point of Usagi watching her lover die or seemingly die. In the Silver Millennium she herself died seconds later. In episode 13 they weren’t nearly as close as they’d become by episode 46 and she at least had friends and family in her life she knew she could lean on. This equally applies to Mamoru seemingly dying in episode 34 and even his abduction in episode 35. In fact with Minako, Makoto and Artemis Usagi had an even larger support network than before. In episode 46 though her lover has died in her arms, she’s left to go on and the Inner Senshi are dead, Luna and Artemis aren’t around and the end of the world is imminent. She’s truly all alone in her grief and intellectually she knows that even if somehow she resolves the crisis her support network has been mostly gutted. THEN she herself dies  to defeat Beryl/Metalia and save the world.

She gets her fondest wish, to go back to a normal life, but that’s also taken from her due to the arrival of Ail and An. Yay for Usagi, she gets to have ALL of those traumatic memories from the Silver Millennium rerun through her head AGAIN. And this time they’re complimented by the Hell she went through in losing her friends, her lover and dying herself in the Arctic.  

But hey, at least now she and her lover can finally be together right? Nope. He literally doesn’t know her. He isn’t Endymion. He isn’t Tuxedo Mask. He isn’t the Mamoru she knew and doesn’t even want to know her. Meanwhile a prospective romantic rival is sniffing around him and for all she knows he may well be interested in her. She gets a tiny ray of hope when Moonlight Knight shows up but that’s abruptly squashed when she receives (seemingly) hard proof this guy who seems oh so similar to the man she loves definitely isn’t that man. So her tiny hope of maybe  getting him back is taken from her almost as quickly as it came.

After Ail and An depart Earth Usagi finally   has what she wants…until two episodes later. This time in the cruelest twist of fate for her, it isn’t external forces that tears Mamoru away from her. This time he  takes himself from her. From a certain point of view this is sort of worse than him dying. Usagi knows death and reincarnation are a thing and that magic exists. She already knows that, as traumatic as it might’ve been, the pair have been given more chances than most people to get together. But how is that to happen when Mamoru, in his right mind and fully possessing all his memories, clearly conveys he doesn’t want her. In the same way Tuxedo Mask pulled a disappearing act early on, now Mamoru in normal life begins actively avoiding Usagi and even saying hurtful things to her.  

It is in episode 61 (the break up episode itself) that we arguably first see this insecure side to Usagi where she questions if Mamoru prefers a child under 10 years old to her. From there we also see Mamoru try to hint to her that he’s seeing Unazuki.  

Of course Usagi eventually learns that it WAS another external force pushing them apart again (well sort of but that’s for another day). However, to lose Mamoru again after all she’d already gone through to be with him was emotionally going to be a serious twisting of the knife for her, in addition to his efforts after episode 61 to push her away. The fact that his own desire to be with her caused him to still help and even hang out with her on occasion would’ve further confused her.  

But even after  this mess is cleared up, in Sailor Moon R The Movie: Promise of the Rose Usagi has to witness Mamoru nearly die for her again. And like on other occasions it comes via an impalement right in front of her and a consequent abduction to boot. And the abductee happens to be someone she and her friends suspect might harbor romantic feelings for Mamoru as well, someone who actively insulted her, actively tried to dissuade Mamoru from dating her and who literally  pushed her away from him.  

When taken collectively, I think all these traumas associated with Usagi ‘losing’ Mamoru or otherwise being prevented from being with him would make Usagi subconsciously on the alert for the next  thing that might take him from her.

I propose that this is the actual reason for Usagi’s concerns that Mamoru might like Chibiusa more than her, for why she gets concerned when Ami and Mamoru chat together in S, for why she goes all ninja in SuperS, etc. Deep down she does  trust him and deep down she trusts her friends and doesn’t actually  feel threatened by anyone who might try to hit on Mamoru.

It’s in reality a case of her gripping too tight precisely because the object of her desire has slipped through her fingers far too many times in the past.* Or if you like, from Usagi’s POV destiny might’ve pre-ordained that she fall in love with Mamoru but she may well be concerned that it’s also pre-ordained that they be allowed to enjoy  being in love, not for too long anyway.  

However, I think this in turn set up a great example of character development for our heroine.

First of all, in episode 132 we have Chibiusa outright warning Usagi she has a romantic rival and that if she doesn’t shape up she will  lose Mamoru to her, and yet Usagi shrugs this off. 

Of course, we could argue that this is Usagi trying to simply one up Chibiusa in this moment, or else she is dismissive of the warning precisely because it comes from Chibiusa whom is both a child and someone who makes a point of trolling her. On the other hand we might view this as an example of how Usagi has in fact grown and is more at peace with the idea that she isn’t about to have Mamoru taken from her for the umpteenth time.  

Granted her over reaction in episode 136, wherein she dresses as a ninja to ensure Rei and Mamoru don’t get up to anything, goes against that idea. However, we could just as easily argue that Usagi’s reactions in that episode were an example of her backsliding precisely because of Rei and Mamoru’s history. She might not worry about Rei and Mamoru deep down, but the idea of them living in the same place when they used to date and when she knows how active  Rei was in pursuing him back in the day? It’s not beyond belief that in these specific circumstances Usagi’s resolve faltered whereas she’d have been less concerned if it’d been a stranger or someone with no romantic history with Mamoru.ffff

More significantly though is Sailor Stars. Once more Usagi ‘lost’/nearly lost Mamoru. This time this was due to Queen Nehelenia, whose efforts poisoned the Earth and by extension endangered the life of her lover. Then she did that AGAIN, this time outright brainwashing and abducting him. 

Even if this didn’t remind Usagi of her horrible experiences with Evil Endymion and Beryl, it would’ve still been disturbing and upsetting, especially when Mamoru developed a mirror fetish. Usagi went through Hell and physical torture to try and save her lover and this time the stakes were even higher. Because this time losing him would also mean losing the other person she loved the most, (Chibiusa) a horrible event that she eventually witnessed happen.

Sure, she saved the day and got both her future husband and future daughter back, but she still had to live through those horrible experiences to get to that point.  

And yet, despite these fresh traumas regarding losing her lover, in episode 173 Usagi handles Mamoru leaving for America surprisingly well.

It’s made clear she’s upset by his departure and doesn’t want  him to go. But she comes mere inches from seeing him off with a smile as she intended, demonstrating her increased strength and maturity. 

And despite her tears, despite her not wanting him to go, she still sees him off, she doesn’t try to dissuade him, she isn’t worried that he’ll meet other people or that their relationship will get torn asunder once more. She is sad because they are going to be physically separated by a long distance for a long time, but that’s the only  thing that’s of concern to her. And her reaction even then is relatively reigned in (by her standards) even in the privacy of her own home.  

And from a narrative/emotional POV it is almost like the universe rewards  her for that growth via Mamoru giving her a promise/engagement ring, saying he loves her and kissing her in the airport.

Whilst the significance of the ring is obvious (albeit not to Usagi) we shouldn’t undersell Mamoru’s words or the kiss. 

I’m willing to be corrected on this but I’m fairly certain that episode was the first time Mamoru (not Endymion, not Moonlight Knight talking about  Mamoru, etc) had ever told Usagi he loved her. Of course, his actions spoke louder than words on this front. Even before Usagi knew Mamoru was Tuxedo Mask she suspected the latter rescued her because he was in love with her. Nevertheless, having your partner actually look you in the eye and say the words can be incredibly emotionally significant for a lot of people. In a sense it is the ultimate unambiguous proof of the other person’s feelings (in theory anyway). Even if Usagi hadn’t been waiting to hear him say the words (personally I think her expression implies she had been) it would’ve nevertheless been a significant development in their relationship all the same.  

And as for the kiss, I admit I only vaguely know about Japanese cultural norms regarding PDA, but it is to my understanding that kissing in public is frowned upon. Even if I’m wrong about that, Mamoru (as evidenced by the R movie) certainly doesn’t like to kiss Usagi when anyone else is around. If you go back to check most of their kisses, either they are alone or else it’s obvious Mamoru doesn’t think anyone is observing them. The fact that he kisses Usagi not only in a public space, but an airport of all places (when there are crowds there for three big celebrities no less) is a huge deal for him. And in turn it’s a huge deal for Usagi because, whilst Mamoru might have more reservations, Usagi clearly cared a lot less about PDA, typically being the one to initiate their kisses.  

Consequent episodes further demonstrate Usagi’s growth regarding her old insecurities with Mamoru. Putting aside how we never once see her worried about him seeing other girls, in episode 181 Seiya outright raises the idea of him seeing other people. Usagi casually, without a hint of aggression, dismisses the idea.  

The irony is that it is Usagi  who’s in the situation she so often worried about regarding Mamoru. She is the person being pursued by  romantic rival to her lover, namely Seiya.  

The cruel  irony is that Usagi having matured enough to accept Mamoru leaving (despite being deeply upset and lonely about it) actually had  lost him yet again.  

She just didn’t know it.  

*Not to mention…she is a teenager. Those people tend to be ever so slightly prone to emotional over reactions at the best of times.  

[ghoste-catte]

3,4,5 !

You didn't say which meme and I posted a couple last night, so I'm gonna go with this one. Thank you for the ask!

3. If you had to direct a scene from your fic, what would you choose? Why? What would it look like? What techniques would you use to convey certain emotions? What would the set look like?

Over the course of 90 fics, it's hard to pick one in particular, but there's a few where I'm, like, really into the imagery and can envision exactly how I'd want the "shot" to look. One of my faves is this little opening passage from 'i think we're haunted':

Lee stood awash in the golden light of his kitchen window, looking out over the dried grass of his backyard. The half-length curtains, crookedly hand-sewn by Tenten and speckled with cheery sunflowers, fluttered in the soft breeze drifting through the window screen.

It was autumn, and everything smelled of smoke.

Behind the thin spines of the maples that separated his yard from his one-street-over neighbor’s, the sun was starting to set. Gloaming light, stained orange by the leaves’ last dying hurrahs, filtered through the pale yellow cotton of the curtains and painted his fingers gold where they drummed on the steel behind the sink.

The house was old, narrow, taller than it was wide, and it seemed to tilt to and fro when the wind blew, the joists groaning and settling. It needed a lot of repair work, and the pipes spat rust before the water ran clear, the spigot juddering when Lee turned it on to wash the dust of moving day off his hands. But the house was his very own, his name on the deed and a mortgage looming in his bank account. Run-down though it may have been, his own house was the first sign of his true adult life opening up before him, perhaps a bit lately bloomed, but no less promising for it.

Lee grinned, and the shine of his teeth in the sunset flashed back at him from the windowpane.

This is definitely a moment where I can picture the establishing shot: a slow zoom over an autumn forest with a neighborhood tucked inside, focusing in on this crooked, narrow little house, passing over the dried grass of the backyard, zooming in past the fluttering curtains and into a focused shot of a sink full of dishes and lit-up hands turning on the faucet. The crisp, crunchy outdoor fall sounds transitioning into that sound that pipes make when they haven't been used in a long time--that buh-buh-buhbuhbuhbuh-shhhhh. Sort of the implication of something being above and not quite moored to this world, coming floating in to focus on this very quirky but ultimately mundane house. Panning around the kitchen to see the moving boxes and the pizza trash and the cups hung on their little hooks that have yet to be shattered--of course so later on that same pan could be used to show what a complete state of destruction the kitchen was in.

4. What are your main character(s)’ motivations? What do you consider their main drivers?

So, obviously this varies story-to-story, but I think it all boils down to one thing: love. Gaara and Lee both want to be loved so, so badly. They're just very different in what they consider love to be. Gaara equates love with a lack of fear, and with leaving a mark on the world (pre-reformation this is by killing people and asserting his existence, and post-reformation this would be by leading his village and changing the shinobi world for the better). Lee equates love with a sort of romantic ideal of adoration on a surface level, but from a deeper perspective I think he associates love with respect. The respect of a rival that you bested in battle, the respect of someone seeing you as an equal instead of something to look down on. I also think they're both--despite their bonds--terribly lonely people, searching for the other half of their whole. So I think that search for love and human connection drives both most of their canon actions and whatever they're doing in the fanfic I write.

5. What makes your main ship so compatible? Or, what makes them so incompatible? What do they see in each other?

Do people remember ship manifestos? Because I could write a ship manifesto on these guys. But off the top of my head:

Lee was the first person who touched Gaara, after years of not having been touched. I don't think it matters that it was in the course of a battle to the death, I just don't see any way for that not to have impacted Gaara's psyche.

Lee forgave Gaara without even having been apologized to. We can talk about whether that's an unhealthy approach to friendship or not, but I think in that moment of Gaara's life, where he was in the flux between being a monster and an ally, that sort of unconditional acceptance and forgiveness would have been exactly what he needed.

Gaara is someone that Lee sees as a rival and an aspiration, and we all know what the homoerotic underpinnings of the word 'rival' are in the Narutoverse.

And Lee calls him Gaara-kun. Gaara-kun. One of the highest ranking and most deadly shinobi in all 5 Nations, and Lee's like: Gaara-kun~ I mean. Come on.

Fun Meta Asks for Writers

[azdoine]

😐👀🖊

😐 What embarrasses you most about your own writing?

haha, just nuke me right out of the gate, huh?

the executive function/commitment problems are real, but those are a little more wide-reaching than just putting words on a page. something which embarrasses me about my writing in itself is probably... my dialogue?

I’m not bad at tracking characterization and personalities in my head, but distinct speaking styles are harder, and I have a habit of using my characters as exposition mouthpieces or pushing them into unreasonably bespoke debates.

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

ah... well, um, I won’t say I’ll never let it see the light of day, but I’ve definitely got something I wouldn’t otherwise promote or publish on my main accounts.

it’s a PMMM SI/OC romance - less as something I’m unironically interested in now, and more as a love letter to a time and place in my life when I sort of was. if nothing else, I also want to explore some of the writing conceits (and blatant copes) I’ve seen from other SI romance authors in recent years.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

What is a woman meant to think, when the Devil steps out of the pages of a bible she doesn’t even believe in and tells her he has a job for her? When he tells her that she can have everything she’s ever wanted and everyone she’s ever loved, if only she tithes all other things in creation to him?

The foolish woman takes his words at face value, and allows herself to be seduced into darkness. The wise woman remembers that he is a conniver and a father to lies, and turns her back upon all his works.

The worldly woman understands that her tempter is bound to reason, as all things are, and cannot escape the implications of his own existence. Their arrangement is no more an epic for Johann Faust than for Simon Flagg. It exists not because it is being written as a story - though it may be written, all else being equal - but because someone found it necessary to see to fruition in their own reality.

Perhaps my dubious benefactor in ‘the Company’ was the Devil, and perhaps he wasn’t. I couldn’t say either way, and neither alternative really changed anything. The questions that mattered were more and less fundamental.

All the tithes I could offer my benefactor were less than ash to such a being as he claimed to be. What use was kidnapping, to a master of demons who could raise men and women out of the void like wheat from the earth? To a master of oracles who could pluck all true names out of nothingness, and of sculptors who could fulfill those images to the last? What use was shareholder value, to men who could rule forever as private kings in heavens of their own making?

And all of these questions I could have asked of him, but I hadn’t - not just because there was no reason to give him any ideas, but because it was pointless. The second purpose of a system is what it’s meant to be, and the third purpose is what it claims to be, but the first purpose of a system is what it does, and all the writ in the world had only confirmed that what his system did was give people an excuse to be evil.

It wasn’t slaves he wanted, for himself or for anyone else; it was me he wanted, and he wanted me to enslave. This was what he cared about, and I would not do him the disservice of pretending he was such an exquisite fool as to lead himself as far and deep into ineptitude as he hoped to lead me into temptation.

So why, then, had I been left a way out at the last? Walled in by one page of corporate soundbytes after another until there was nothing left for me but to rape and pillage, and then permitted an escape in a handful of paragraphs that were obviously all but written on a napkin by someone else’s hand?

I wasn’t smart for having outwitted him; I was lucky at best, having been given the chance to defy him, or misled entirely at worst, having been deluded into optimism.

But if my enemy wanted only to lead good men into iniquity, then he would simply raise true heroes up into omnipotence and curse them by the same measure to always be left an Omelas, and in so doing create Gods to cast scapegoats into Hell, and in so doing solve the problem of evil by being greater than God altogether.

That my enemy wanted something as eccentric as this proved it couldn’t be so simple. That something as eccentric as this could come to pass, could be the purpose of anyone’s system, proved my enemy was nothing so majestically vast.

It meant he was human, or bound by something like humanity; it meant he was imperfect, or bound by something like imperfection. If not in what he was capable of, then certainly in what he desired above all else.

That was the way he was going to die.

And if I was a fool to believe that I wasn’t at the end of my rope and strung up on my adversary’s strings, then that was a burden I would have to bear, because that was just the human delusion called “faith”.

[justawayninja]

Predicting Skyfire/Starscream’s story in Netflix’s Transformers series

Aasdlklkj attention duelists! This might be the first time in decades that we see the Skyfire/Starscream plotline explored in mainstream Transformers media since G1!

So the new Transformers: War for Cybertron series is coming to Netflix July 30th. In the countdown to the new series, there’s only really one thing I’m interested in seeing: Starscream and Skyfire. 

These 2 posters were released together and it’s not a coincidence. 

It’s actually pretty shocking, if you really reflect on all the past Transformers series, just how little (read: basically zero) mainstream TF series ever acknowledge the original G1 Starscream/Skyfire origin story. Outside of the Dreamwave comics, a random Japanese manga, and the briefest of hints in the IDW ‘Til All Are One series, we have genuinely never seen this duo’s story explored in its original, G1 sense since G1. 

(And as soon as I say this someone will definitely point out something I’ve missed)

But the new Netflix series looks like it’s about to change all that and with the little information we have now, I’m going to make a few guesses regarding a possible Skyfire/Starscream subplot within the new series.

Reasons to believe there will be a Skyfire/Starscream storyline

Firstly, the posters themselves and the fact that they were released together already suggests that those two might have a significant role in the story, and with each other. The creators know. Green flags all the way! *woot woot!*

The first trailer released on 23rd February was also a preeeetty big tip-off, with Skyfire clearly shown standing with the Decepticons. Now, he’d already appeared as a Decepticon in IDW, but only as a grunt. Here, he’s alongside all the Decepticon bigshots - Megatron, Shockwave, Soundwave, Skywarp, and of course, Starscream. 

Ugh. Just imagine all the drama and conflict that’s about to happen! It’s the kind of confrontation fans of Skyfire/Starscream angst have been dreaming of for years. But canon!

That said, it is kind of a bummer to see that, even though old fans will already see Skyfire’s betrayal and turning into an Autobot ‘plot twist’ happening a mile away, Netflix still chose to spoil the surprise in their second trailer!

Skyfire standing with Optimus Prime

Skyfire trying to save a random (?) Autobot/Jazz (?)

On the Hasbro War for Cybertron: Siege toy site too, they make no secret of Skyfire’s true alliance:

This is pretty concerning for Starscream/Skyfire fans, with four possible implications

1) If a Skyfire/Starscream subplot exists, then it’s clearly not important enough to even bother hiding its ending 

2) Even if a potential Skyfire/Starscream subplot was important, the creators have assumed that old fans are familiar with the G1 story anyway. And that might mean they’ve revealed Skyfire’s allegiance swap because the subplot will essentially follow the same simple, black-and-white lines in the original G1 story. (Noooooo)

3) OR it’s a red herring and there is an excellent trove of story, conflict, drama, and angst for our two favourite fliers ;)

4) ORRRR there isn’t going to be a Skyfire/Starscream subplot in the first place and I’m an overthinking fangirl who hasn’t had a bone thrown at her OTP for actual decades. 

But based off all the evidence suggesting otherwise, I think it’s pretty safe to assume there will be a Starscream/Skyfire subplot. However, this is my prediction:

1) Although SS/SF will definitely play a role in the story, it’s unlikely to be a particularly significant subplot, judging by the rampant spoilers in the trailers. Most Transformers series have never really bothered to delve into or develop Starscream as a character, so I can’t imagine that changing and the creators deciding to invest much time in exploring this plotline. (Boooo! >:( )

2) In the same vein, considering how Autobot-oriented most Transformers media, especially the animated series are, even if there was a Starscream/Skyfire storyline, Starscream fans like myself are most likely to be disappointed once again at the lack of nuance in Starscream’s character. The story will most likely focus on Skyfire’s own internal conflict and his perspective as a Decepticon, rather than equally distributing the role between the two of them. 

3) In fact, I’m actually concerned as to how much screen time Starscream will get in this series, period. There is significantly less emphasis on his appearance throughout both trailers (which is actually contrasted pretty starkly with Skyfire, who gets quite a few appearances). Also, his rank is significantly lower than ‘usual’. Instead of being Second-In-Command, it is Soundwave and Shockwave who rank as Majors, while Starscream is one rank below, a Captain, according to US military ranks. 

Personally, I’m keeping my expectations low, just so I might be pleasantly surprised when the show does roll round. The series definitely looks promising, and suitably, IDW-esquely gritty and dark. Let’s hope that, if they do decide to tackle the oft-forgotten Skyfire/Starscream storyline, that they can do it justice. 

Fortunately, we’ve only got less than a week to go before we find out! 

[soundwavereporting]

Sky Spies and Splitting Up Batchmates

IDW, pre-war (to be specific very slightly pre-Megatron: Origin); Cosmos, OCs, Sentinel Prime, Prowl, the tiniest of tiny cameos for Soundwave and Ratbat. Warnings for canon-typical racism/homophobia. 

This is based on a whole heap of headcanons, plus one or two panels from MTMTE. 

Iacon felt…small.

Maybe it was the way the crowds parted to make way for them, or maybe it was the way that they had to walk in single file or risk one of them accidentally stepping into the street.  

Cosmos missed Staniz. Staniz was made for mechs like them.

He supposed it was better than being separated from his batchmates during their constant, multi-year surveying missions studying the infinitesimal ebb and flow of energon. Their contract with Senator Shockwave wasn’t scheduled to expire for another three cycles, but today the Prime of all people wanted to speak to them about something equal parts vitally important and incredibly vague.

::He’s probably gonna send us to the Institute.::

As usual, Starburst’s mood was equal parts pessimistic and anxious.

“The Prime has better things to do than send three Lunabots to the Institute.” Cosmos spoke aloud, though he hoped it was quiet enough to not be overheard. Abruptly feeling self-conscious, he adjusted the temporary badge the Senatorial messenger had affixed to his armor, declaring him cleared to wander around inner Iacon for the day.

::Then he’s gonna reformat us! Turn us into his new sky-spies, or dump fissal radiation into our spark chamber in the hopes of creating outliers!::

Cosmos glared at his batchmate. As usual, Starburst was paying more attention to whatever conspiracy theories he’d pulled up on his HUD than anything else—more than once, Cosmos and Paradox had had to pull the mech out of incoming traffic.

“Shut up, ‘burst.” Paradox had been quiet until now, silently soaking up the sights of inner Iacon, but now the Grand Imperium loomed before them. It was no secret that the average Lunabot stood (literally) head and shoulders above most mechs, leaving the average, non-form friendly building more or less inaccessible to them, but the Senate’s Iacon headquarters were…something else.

They stepped inside.

A mech with the most spectacular, articulated rotors Cosmos had ever seen was arguing with the receptionist. He felt Paradox stiffen beside him, taking in the sight of said rotors as they shifted and swayed in time to his animated, angry gestures in the receptionist’s direction.

Not for the first time, Cosmos lamented knowing so much about the things that revved his batchmates’ engines.

The mech who had been standing beside rotor-mech whipped around, staring at Paradox as though he had broadcasted his taste for fully articulated rotors and flight frames on a loudspeaker.

Paradox, at least, had the sense to look a little embarrassed.

Starburst had frozen in the doorway, effectively blocking anyone larger than a memory stick from entering. Cosmos grabbed Starburst and yanked him forward. Starburst stumbled, tripping over his own feet and nearly falling head-first into rotor-mech’s stupid, articulated rotors.

Abruptly, Rotor-mech turned to face them. With a sinking feeling of utter dread that was definitely proportional to the situation, Cosmos took in the Senatorial crest emblazoned on rotor-mech’s chassis.

Apparently having noticed the same thing, Paradox squeaked.

Cosmos wondered if it would be bad form to just transform and break through the ceiling en route to outer space, never to be seen on Cybertron again. Maybe they could go find Luna-1! Surely such a feat would be enough to erase the—

“You’re here!”

The receptionist, whose public ID tag labeled him as Drawback, jumped to his feet and gently maneuvered past rotor-Senator-mech and grasped Paradox’s arm in a clear, albeit relieved greeting.

“As I was saying, Senator, our most wise Prime has a meeting with these three wonderful—and prompt!—Lunabots in just a few moments. As I said, I am more than happy to put you down for a meeting slot sometime…late next week?”

Drawback tugged insistently on Paradox’s arm, practically dragging the Lunabot towards the lift. Unsure whether they were meant to follow, but unwilling to remain, Cosmos and Starburst followed suit.

Rotor-Senator gawked. Even from this distance, Cosmos could feel the anger bubbling in the mech’s field.

“Thank you,” Drawback muttered, once he had herded them out of audio-receptor range, towards an elevator that would accommodate them—one of them at a time, at least. Paradox and Starburst clamored to be the first ones in, and Cosmos lamented the fact that he was going to be stuck in the lobby for even a minute longer than the others. “Sometimes I swear Sentinel sets up these appointments just to get out of meetings he doesn’t want to attend. And Ratbat knows me from Kaon, so he thinks I’ll just rearrange the Prime’s schedule! Just for him!”  

Cosmos had no real answer to that. He watched Paradox make his escape via elevator, peeking around the closing doors once more in hopes of getting another look at rotor-Senator. Starburst fidgeted in place and Cosmos could practically see the forums his batchmate had pulled up on his HUD.

“So, uh,” Cosmos said, hoping to break the awkward silence. “Worked here long?”

Drawback shook his head. “I’m usually posted in Kaon, at the um, local Senate building over there. Just here till the replacement passes all the background checks, then I’ll get to go home.” He lowered his voice. “It’s awful here.”

Starburst nodded enthusiastically, and apparently chose that moment to break his self-imposed silence.

“What’s this about?” Starburst asked. “I know that Lunabots consume more energon than the average mech but we wouldn’t be able to enter planetary orbit without all that fuel and! And Senator Shockwave himself declared us free to receive all the fuel we need, at least until our contract with him is up, and I—I really don’t want to get reformatted. Or brainwashed. I really don’t.”

Cosmos had to resist the urge to hide his face in his hands, but Drawback nodded. Considering the commotion rotor-Senator had been making out there, Starburst’s rant probably wasn’t the most outlandish outburst he’d ever been subjected to.

“Well, I know for a fact you’re not here to be brainwashed!” Drawback’s smile was as sincere as it was strained.

The elevator door slid open and Starburst practically jumped inside, leaving Cosmos alone with Drawback.

“You’re a Lunabot, right?” Drawback asked. “You like it?”

“Y-yes,” Cosmos said, mostly because he wasn’t sure if it was a trick question designed to weed out anyone who might be even the slightest bit anti-Functionist. For all he knew, the Senate was staffed with telepaths around every corner, taking notes on which visitors needed to be sent to—

Primus, now he was starting to think like Starburst.

“I definitely don’t get to see Iacon too often.”

Drawback nodded. “Well, if you get the chance—it’s not everyone’s taste, but there’s a pretty good Tarnian place in one of the lower districts. It’s size-friendly, too—lots of mechs visiting from Kaon and Tarn drop in, so you know it’s authentic.” Drawback coughed, awkwardly. “I, uh, run a regional cuisine blog in my free time.”

The elevator door chose that moment to open, sparing Cosmos from any more awkward small talk. Cosmos stepped in and Drawback waved goodbye, cringing as the rotor-Senator came into view, striding towards the hapless receptionist.

Sentinel Prime’s offices were on the top floor. Cosmos took a moment to wonder at the inefficiency of it all—Drawback certainly wasn’t flight-frame, and he doubted rotor-Senator transformed unless it was to show off. Did they all really use these elevators to navigate the building?

Maybe Sentinel wanted to hire them as shuttles.

Cosmos shuddered at the thought. He didn’t know how shuttlemechs could stand the feeling of someone moving around inside him, much less directing him.

The doors slid open, and Cosmos was relieved to see Paradox and Starburst waiting for him. Triplechangers stood guard at the many doors of the very intimidating hallway that stretched out before them, each nearly as tall as the average Lunabot. Cosmos wondered if they were allowed to skip the elevators and just fly up to whatever floor they needed to get to.

 Out of politeness, Cosmos nodded a greeting to the nearest guardsmech and got no response. Starburst had shifted back to internal comms and was sending them both a massive data-dump from the conspiracy forums.

As he usually did, Cosmos fell into step just behind Paradox, letting his batchmate take the lead. It wasn’t something that they had ever talked about, but where Paradox led, he and Starburst were usually content to follow. Paradox’s quick thinking had gotten them out of trouble more than once, and his cool demeanor had netted them the contract to work with Senator Shockwave. Cosmos would just have to make sure neither he or Starburst said anything that warranted getting their sparks extracted, and they would be good.

His audio receptors picked up the faintest sounds of an ongoing argument at the end of the hall. None of the triplechangers seemed particularly bothered by the noise.

“Nice place,” Cosmos muttered to himself. Paradox elbowed him. “What? It’s true!” The carpet under their pedes probably cost more than the three of them would make in a hundred cycles.

The door at the far end of the hall was more than tall—and wide—enough to accommodate the three of them. They stepped inside and Starburst raised a hand, awkwardly waving at the receptionist in the far corner, who didn’t look nearly as welcoming as Drawback had.

“Lunabots.” This receptionist didn’t have a public ID tag. “Right. Sentinel’s been waiting for you.”

Cosmos glanced at his chrono—they were nearly five minutes early, and the implication that they were running late irked him. Judging by the way his armor puffed up, Paradox clearly felt the same.

The receptionist gave Paradox a flat, unimpressed stare. Paradox met the stare with a patient half-glare Cosmos hoped he’d be able to emulate one day.

“Through the far door, and please—try to make it quick. Meetings with astro class mechs—much less Lunabots—aren’t exactly what the Matrix intended when it chose Sentinel Prime as its vessel.

Giving up any semblance of professional distance, Paradox grabbed Cosmos’ arm with one hand and Starburst’s with the other before either of them could start a fight or demand to know what the mech knew about the Matrix.

Without looking at them again, the receptionist waved them through. The door opened, and Cosmos came face to face with Sentinel Prime, who’d been in the process of storming out of his own office.

“Lunabots!” Sentinel composed himself quickly, spreading his hands out in that way Cosmos had noticed a lot of mechs tended to do when they were trying to show that they had nothing to hide.

Cosmos didn’t trust him, but earning the trust of a Lunabot wasn’t exactly a perquisite for the Primacy, was it?

“There are…three of you. Did we know three of them were coming?” The question was directed at the mech Sentinel Prime had been arguing with—an Enforcer-turned-aide, who’d done a worse job of pretending he hadn’t just been yelling at a Prime than he probably thought.

“Lunabots are created in triads.” The Enforcer-turned-aide was looking at a datapad. “Starburst, Paradox, and Cosmo. Here at Senator Shockwave’s personal recommendation.”

“Cosmos,” Cosmos said automatically.

Paradox groaned.

“Ah.” An unpleasantly familiar expression crossed Sentinel’s faceplates. “Well, we only need one of you for now. So.”

Paradox stiffened. “Sir—um, your highness, sir—“

Sentinel waved a hand. “Just Sentinel.”

“Sentinel, sir—Lunabots—“

“Lunabots are sparked in triads,” Sentinel rolled his optics theatrically and turned back to face his aide. “I heard you the first time. It’s not like they’re sparkmates, are they?”

Sentinel glared at Paradox.  

“No sir.”

“Good.” Sentinel turned back to Paradox. “Now. Like I said—well, I didn’t say: to make it short, we’re running short on mechs capable of orbital surveillance, and the Senate has authorized one—one—Lunabot to undergo a deep reformat and a class change to add to our ranks. Whichever one of you is chosen to be reformatted—“

“Reformatted?”

Despairingly, Cosmos realized neither he nor Paradox had moved to shut up their batchmate.  Sentinel didn’t need to ask their permission, did he? This was just a formality—or maybe they were here to get evaluated, in which case…

Primus, they were going to choose Paradox.

Oblivious to Cosmos’ internal crisis, Sentinel was trying—and failing—to allay Starburst’s fear.

“Into a smaller, more compact, more fuel efficient body. You’ll get twice whatever Shockwave’s been paying you and so many upgrades you won’t even have time to think about your…friends. Brothers? And you’ll be doing your duty as a Cybertronian citizen, helping your Prime rid the planet of enemies of the state.”

“Sir, Decepticons are dissenters, not—“

“I don’t want to get reformatted,” Starburst snapped. Sentinel looked up, surprised. “None of us do. We’re Lunabots and we like being Lunabots.”

Cosmos seized the chance to nod. Vigorously.

Sentinel frowned.

“Please wait outside.”

He was half-expecting the triplechangers to accost them the instant the door closed, but the mechs remained where they stood, impassible and unmovable. The receptionist looked up and rolled his optics, then ignored them completely.

“They’re gonna split us up,” Starburst said, breathless. “The Prime and his little assistant—oh Primus they’re gonna turn us into minibots and make us hack transmissions and—“

“Shut up.” Paradox demanded, then turned to Cosmos. “What’s your take on this?”

“I—um. Yeah.” Cosmos looked away. “I think they’re gonna choose you.”

“Not what I was looking for.” Paradox narrowed his optics. “Maybe we can persuade Sentinel to take all three of us—barring that, maybe we can redirect him to another cohort of Lunabots.”

“I’ve never liked Quasar and his batchmates. They should pick one of them to be sky-spies.”

“Quasar is an idiot. Sentinel won’t go for it.”

“I’ll do it,” Cosmos said, before he realized the words had formed in his processor, much less left his voicebox. “Um. I mean—“

“No!” Starburst grossed his arms. “I mean, better you than me, but no.”

“If—if—Sentinel’s set on recruiting a Lunabot and can’t be persuaded otherwise,” Cosmos said, trying and failing to figure out where he could backtrack and retract his words. “I’ll do it.”

“But you hate surveillance,” Starburst said. “You—oh! You’re hoping that being a spy will be less boring than monitoring Cybertron’s energon levels?”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Cosmos admitted. “I’m still hoping Sentinel will let all of us get reformatted.”

Before Starburst could reiterate that he really didn’t want to get turned into a spy, the door to Sentinel’s office opened once again.

Feeling like he was walking to his own execution, Cosmos followed his batchmates. They trooped back into the Prime’s office in a single file, awkwardly standing as Sentinel looked them up and down.

“As I was saying,” Sentinel said. “For the time being, we still only need one of you. But Prowl here—“ Sentinel gestured at the Enforcer. “Has persuaded me to promise you that once the Decepticon threat has been eradicated from the planet, you will have the option to get your old frame back and return to your…’batch’. No hard feelings. And if, by chance, I am not in a position to approve the change, Prowl has been authorized to act in my place. Is that acceptable?”

Belatedly, Cosmos realized that Paradox and Starburst had taken a measured step back. He had volunteered, hadn’t he.

Primus, he was an idiot.

Before Cosmos could retract his offer, Sentinel held out his hand. Dumbly, Cosmos shook it.

“Welcome to Kaon Security Services, Lunabot,” Sentinel said. “We’re glad to have you here.”

[bigskydreaming]

Height discourse confuses me so much, because I, a 4'9 21-year-old Asian perceives anyone taller as tall. But reading international posts saying 5'6 is small makes me double-take, like, "Wut?"

LOL, ahh yes, the infamous “How Tall IS Dick Grayson Actually” discourse. I feel you. And I can definitely see how it would be bemusing as hell given your perspective, lmao.

And I mean, its definitely up there on the list of “Things I Can’t Believe There’s Actually Discourse About” buuuuuut I’m not really judging because I know damn well there’s a fuckton of shit I’ve Discoursed about on pretty much everyone else’s “Things I Can’t Believe There’s Actually Discourse About” list. 

*Shrugs* But I also do get why it exists, if you scratch beneath the surface - as is often true of a lot of seemingly inane discourses. Its not really about height so much as it is about the why’s of writers specifying certain heights for him, and stereotypes associated with height.

On the one hand, you’ve got the fans who look at writers who make a point of writing Dick as particularly short, or the shortest of the Batfam once all of them are adults, and think: this is because of fandom’s fixation with writing Dick as effeminate or the least ‘manly’ of the Batfam, and thus I dislike it and do not trust this writer’s take on him.

Then on the other hand, you have the fans who look at objections like this and think: this is because of bullshit fostered by the toxic masculinity and sexism that’s so present in society, even women can be guilty of perpetuating the idea that there’s anything TO object about there, that a man being effeminate or less ‘manly’ than his brothers is some kind of insult or slight against him in the first place.

But then go back to the first hand.....

And on the one hand, of those fans, you’ve got the fans that don’t actually think there’s anything insulting about a man being effeminate or less manly themselves, but given that the bullshit fostered by the toxic masculinity and sexism in society is so everpresent, even women can be guilty of perpetuating the idea that ‘shorter = weaker’ etc, etc.......its not him being written as short that’s objectionable to them, its what they believe the writer is implying by making that distinction that they’re objecting to, like that it reads to them as though its being used as a smokescreen to create associations in readers’ minds, with the idea of him being weaker or softer or whatever the fuck compared to his brothers, without those writers actually having to SAY what they’re getting at there and spell it out. Plausible deniability kinda thing.

And then on the other hand, you have those fans who object to writing Dick as short because they actually DO buy into that bullshit and they ARE simply objecting to the idea itself because of toxic masculinity and sexism and etc etc.

But then go back to the original second hand.....

And on the one hand THERE, you have the fans whose responses to people objecting about writing Dick as short are based on exactly what they say they are......pointing out that its only objectionable if its viewed as insulting and the only reasons its viewed as insulting are toxic masculinity and sexism which they’re calling out as being perpetuated here.

And on the other hand there, you have those fans who DO buy into the associations between ‘shorter = weaker’ and actually ARE writing things that way with the intent of hoping to form that association in the minds of any readers who similarly buy into those lines of thought or are susceptible to it......and are simply using ‘arent you the REAL misogynist here for thinking shorter equals more feminine which equals weaker or frail or whatever’ arguments that are simply typical flipping the script tactics and hiding behind buzzwords they don’t actually believe in themselves but know are effective in getting people to back down, etc, etc. The plausible deniability thing.

And I’ve been out of hands here for awhile now, obviously, but you get what I mean. Round and round and round it goes, with the true point always hidden juuuuuuust beneath the surface, and more than a little tedious to have all unpacked and catalogued like here, which is a major factor in why so many people rarely dig beneath the surface of a seemingly inane discourse to get at what people are REALLY arguing about but nobody wants to ‘lose ground on’ by being the first to admit to.

As for me, again, this really isn’t a dicourse that I spend much time on because I’d rather cut straight to the point of an argument in general, and this isn’t an discourse that’s particularly amenable to people doing that, obviously. 

And also, I honestly just don’t care that much. LOL. Yeah, I often read works where Dick is singled out as being distinctively shorter and feel an author is trying to ‘imply’ something and its the implications of that which are the source of any ‘Not Good, Scoob’ feelings rather than because I agree with what’s trying to be implied. But y’know......when an author IS playing that game and they actually do buy into toxic and sexist stereotypes.....I mean, there’s literally always other indications of this in their work, giving them away all over the place. So there’s honestly never really a time when his height itself is actually what that hinges upon, y’know?

So my big takeaway from all of this is: headcanon and write Dick as whatever damn height you feel like and if you want to imply something about him just fucking say it directly and if you want to accuse someone of something just fucking call it out directly.

*points to the above unpacking of this particular discourse and how fucking tedious and unnecessary so much of it is and all just because people won’t just say what they actually came to say or lay claim to what they actually said*

ANYWAY.

Personally, regardless of how Dick is written in a fic, I will always headcanon him as somewhere between 5′10″ and 6′1″ for reasons that are entirely irrelevant and meaningless to anyone but me, pretty much. LOL.

In my head, Dick obviously has to be that height because he’s walked a runway as a model before. That’s it. That’s the whole reason my mind automatically goes to that span when picturing him or reading something about him.

(As most people who have followed me for a bit know, I spent a number of years working in the TV industry. There were a couple years there where I did a little bit of print modeling too, nothing major at all, but enough to know that the fashion industry has a Very Definitive Thing about male runway models and height: If you are a male runway model, you are between 5′10″ and 6′1″. If you are not between 5′10″ and 6′1″, you are not a male runway model and you never will be. Its a Thing. And not one the industry is shy about. 

Because of the fact that the fashion industry is mostly centered around women models with name recognition, and very few men who model have star power specifically in terms of modeling, rather than because of crossover/overlap with acting, there’s a major difference in how designers tend to approach designing for models. Most designers designing runway looks for women do so with specific models already in mind. Most designers designing runway looks for men do so without specific models in mind because there simply aren’t enough male models with the kind of branding/name recognition that does a designer any good. 

So designers literally JUST design runway looks for men in that height range, and anyone outside that range would require tailoring that could feasibly throw off an entire runway look. So they just don’t do it, to the point that an agent or manager sending them someone outside that height range to consider for a job means that agent’s not getting called back, because they just gave themselves away as a clear amateur by not knowing better.

Of course, keep in mind that my experiences with modeling are based on the industry re: ten years ago, so it could be that things have changed in this regard since. But that was the status quo then.)

So yeah. Dick Grayson walked a runway for Cheyenne Freemont, thus in my mind he’s obviously between 5′10″ and 6′1″ lolol, because any up and coming designer trying to make a name for herself would absolutely know better than to send out someone shorter than that and still think anyone in the industry would take her seriously.

LOL. I told you it was inane. But in my defense, plenty of people headcanon that Dick HAS to be small because he’s a gymnast, and uh.....that is not how that works. Anyone can be an amazing gymnast, its just that smaller body types lend themselves to gymnastics better than bigger, bulkier bodies. And thus the competition oriented gymnastics SPORT heavily favors cultivating and training gymnasts on the smaller side, because coaches and endorsers are looking for literally any advantage possible.

(Being shorter means you have a lower center of gravity which is a help when balancing, or stabilizing yourself. Its easier for a shorter gymnast to keep their balance or to stick a landing. But it doesn’t become impossible just because someone’s hit six feet tall. It HELPS to be shorter. It doesn’t determine whether or not you can do a trick at all, much like being short and having a lower center of gravity by no means GUARANTEES you have good balance.)

And of course, though Dick excels at a ton of gymnastics, he is not and never has been a gymnast per se....he’s an acrobat. From a family of acrobats. Who have been doing this as a family business generationally, thus.....why would they have future height requirements when training their son in the family business? And being from a family of acrobats doesn’t ensure you’re going to be short, if your family members are not already short to begin with. Evolution does not give a fuck about future employment opportunities when selecting which gene sequences to flip on while in utero.

The correlation is ‘most gymnasts who excel at gymnastics feats are small,’ not ‘to excel at gymastic feats, you must be small.’

I am absolutely and completely just rambling now and have been for awhile so I’m gonna go beat up my insomnia until it caves and lets me go the fuck to sleep.

[aethelar]

You know what you haven't written in a while? Vampires. Proper, old fashioned, gothic vampire story. Go on, you know you want to.

The ruins are dark.

It sounds cliched to say it, like the opening to a bad horror story, but - it’s true.

Newt is in the old castle ruins, and the ruins are dark.

He shifts his grip on the candle in his hand, freeing up two fingers to clutch at the crucifix round his neck. It brings the flickering flame uncomfortably close to his chin, but he needs the reassurance. His other hand is weighed down by the heavy, oversized bible he carries, held shut with iron clasps to keep anything touched by evil from reading it. The cross etched in the cover is inlaid with silver and Newt holds it facing out like a shield.

“The Lord is my shepherd,” he reminds himself. “I shall not want.”

“Shall you not?” a smooth voice asks. Newt spins towards it but he can’t see anything beyond his circle of candlelight. “Doesn’t seem a very good shepherd, if he allows his sheep to wander here.”

Newt swallows. “I will fear no evil! For thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me!”

The voice snorts, an inelegant sound somehow made sinister in the way it echoes off the worn stone. “Oh, I bet they do.”

Newt falters in confusion for a second, then his ears burn in realisation. “You can’t say that about God!” he squeaks.

“Why not?” the voice asks, this time from behind him. Newt spins to keep facing it, lifting his candle higher in a futile effort to try and see. “He’s already cursed me, what else can he do?”

“No, that’s not - that’s not how God works, you can’t -”

“I didn’t curse myself,” the voice hisses, and Newt is sharply reminded that it’s not a man, this thing he’s talking to. Not anymore, and he can’t allow himself to think of it as one. “Your loving shepherd chose for me to become what I am. Seems a bit rich for him to blame me for it, doesn’t it?”

“He is loving,” Newt protests, then continues, stronger: “And he didn’t chose you to be, to be evil, he’s good, that’s the whole point of him.” He brandishes the bible, taking a step forward in annoyance. “You’re twisting words. You’re trying to trick me!”

“What would be the point? I’ve met your kind before, little sheep. You’re not interested in truth.”

“Of course I’m interested in truth,” Newt says, fear fading into his growing frustration. He steps forward again, and thinks he sees the trailing hem of the other’s long cloak as they step back out of the light. “That’s what I do, I learn things and I write them down and I teach them to people so that eventually everyone knows the truth. Would you please stop walking away? It’s very rude.”

He’s all but trotting at this point, awkwardly shielding the candle so it doesn’t blow out. He’s not prepared for the figure in front of him to stop suddenly and has to scramble back to avoid walking into them.

“I’m rude?” the voice snarls, startling close behind him, and Newt nearly trips as he spins round. There’s nothing there though, just black, and when the voice continues it seems to echo from all sides of him at once. “You come to kill me, and I’m rude?”

The black, Newt notices with a sinking feeling, is solid in every direction. He doesn’t even have the vague outlines of windows to tell him which way he’s facing. He’s not sure he could find his way out. “You murdered people,” he says, trying to keep his voice level. “In the town, they told me. I have to stop you. And besides, I’m not killing you.” His voice cracks, and his throat seems too dry. He licks his lips to wet them, but it doesn’t help. “I’m freeing you. Your soul. It… I, um, cleanse it of evil and it goes to heaven.”

There’s a long pause. Newt strains his eyes, but it’s still futile. He hopes the creature can’t hear his heartbeat, because it’s deafeningly loud to Newt.

“Poor little lamb,” the voice finally says. It sounds vaguely amused, slinking around Newt in a lazy circle. “What on earth were you trying to teach them?”

It’s a non sequitur, but Newt answers anyway. “The truth. That we are all of God’s creation, that salvation is freely offered if only we accept it, that if we are to love the Lord we must first love what he has made -”

“That we are all equal and all worth the same salvation?” Definitely amused now, there’s no doubting it, and Newt bristles at the mocking.

“We are,” he protests. “I know what some people are saying but I’ve read everything, and it says wealth doesn’t matter so I don’t understand why everyone pretends you can buy your way out of purgatory because as far as I can see you love your neighbour a lot more if you feed them with that money -”

“So you taught them to ask for more and their masters sent you to me. Did they also tell you to come at night, or was that more of your learning?”

The implication is impossible to miss, and Newt wonders with a vague sense of terror if it’s supposed to be a threat. If it is, it’s a bitter one, but that somehow makes it worse; like the creature is fully aware he’s being used as an executioner, but is already resigned to it happening. Newt stays rooted in place - there’s no point turning, but it’s intensely unsettling to know that there’s someone circling around him like this. “You have to be awake for the ritual,” he says, and he hates how unsure he sounds. He tucks his arms around himself and reaches for his crucifix again. It’s on a silver chain, and even if the cross doesn’t keep the creature back - which it will, it has to - the silver is a comforting barrier to have over his neck. “You can’t attack me,” he continues, steadier. “I’m a monk. God will protect me.”

“Will he,” the creature asks, and between one racing heartbeat and the next he’s standing in front of Newt, close enough to almost touch. Newt stumbles back but the man - creature - merely raises an eyebrow and doesn’t move. He’s slightly shorter than Newt, but clearly stronger, and even in the orange light of the candle his skin is unnaturally pale. His eyes, Newt is horrified to note, are a dark shade of red, and though there’s nothing so crass as a fang showing at the edge of his amused smirk, Newt knows his teeth will be far longer than any human’s.

“Here I am, little sheep,” the vampire says. “Awake and not attacking you. Aren’t you going to save my soul?”

It’s a trap. It feels like a trap. It has to be a trap, but the vampire just stands there, waiting. He’s so still he looks unreal, all his edges too sharp, like Newt would cut himself if he got too close.

“You’ll die,” he says, less as a warning and more to make sure the vampire won’t change his mind and rip Newt’s throat out half way through. “Your soul is purified and your body returns to ash, and you die. And - and there’s an afterlife, it’s not an end death, but. You die.”

“So you say,” the vampire agrees, and that doesn’t exactly sound like informed consent but Newt came here to do a job and he’s going to do it. He balances the bible against his wrist, fumbling with the iron clasps to open it. He holds the candle awkwardly in the same hand, then fetches amethyst and anise from his pocket, along with a small bunch of wormwood. He places them around the vampire in a rough triangle and, after a second’s hesitation, unloops the crucifix from around his neck to wrap around the amethyst. He makes this the head of the triangle, sitting between him and the vampire as an extra level of protection.

“For purification,” he explains, answering the unasked question. “And for peace for the dead. It’s not in the book, I know, but knowledge is still knowledge and I couldn’t see why it wouldn’t be true, so.”

“So you learnt it and you wrote it down and you tried to teach it,” the vampire finishes for him. He laughs, a soft sound that’s more an amused huff than anything else. “Maybe I was wrong when I said I’d met your kind before.”

There doesn’t seem to be much Newt can say to that - the idea that the vampire’s met other monks is worrying, because despite how oddly obliging he’s being now Newt can’t believe that the other meetings ended well. The vampire is, after all, a murderer, and no monk would just walk away from an evil creature terrorising a local town.

He turns instead to his bible. “Deus,” he begins, angling the candle to read the words without dripping wax on them. “Deus meus, respice in me…”

The rhythmic latin is soothing, and Newt loses himself in the familiar rise and fall. He’s aware, in a vague, distant sense, of the vampire’s barely suppressed snarl, the way the candle seems incrementally brighter, the comfort and confidence he feels; he notices when the vampire is forced to one knee, lips pulled back in a growl and claws digging in the dirt for grip. He feels disconnected from it, as though the words are the only thing that matters, and he’s not sure he could stop the measured cadence from spilling out even if he wanted to.

“In conspectu ejus cadent,” he finishes, “omnes qui descendunt in terram.”

The candle flares, then dies so low Newt can barely see. He blinks to adjust his eyes, looking down at the vampire to see if it worked. His head is bowed and he’s statue-still and unmoving.

Newt hesitates. Should he… ask? If the vampire’s ok? Is the body meant to still be there when the soul is gone, isn’t it meant to be ashes?

“The lamb has bite,” the vampire says, breaking into Newt’s thoughts. He looks up, eyes now a burning crimson and open mouth clearly showing his fangs. “But there’s something you missed in your research.” He stands slowly, keeping eye contact with Newt the whole way, and grabs the amethyst in an almost lazy move.

Newt pales, his hand going to his throat. His crucifix. It was wrapped round the amethyst.

“You can’t save a vampire’s soul,” the vampire says, letting the amethyst roll carelessly out his fingers and leaving the crucifix in his palm. “Because vampires don’t have souls.” He closes his hand. When he opens it, the heavy silver cross is a misshapen lump with indents to match his claws, and the chain is a tangled, half-melted mess.

Newt takes a step back, then another, then turns and runs. He can’t remember which way he came in but it’s panic driving him forward, not reason. He can’t see far enough ahead to properly anticipate the walls and he nearly runs straight into one, skidding into a turn at the last second and dropping the bible as he flings a hand out for balance. He goes to push himself off again and keep running when the vampire slams him back against the wall, grip punishingly tight on Newt’s shoulder.

“Let me go,” he gasps, trying to slip out.

“Go where?” the vampire asks. “Deeper into the castle? You won’t find anything there. Back to the town that’s already tried to kill you? Hardly seems like a good idea.”

“They didn’t try to kill me,” Newt says, kicking out viciously at the vampire’s ankle. The hands holding his shoulders down disappear and for a second he thinks he’s free, then the vampire grips his thighs and lifts him up effortlessly to pin him against the wall. Newt squeaks, torn between fear and mortification at the new position.

“They sent you to a vampire at night, armed with a ritual that doesn’t work. You don’t even have a stake, a sword - nothing. If they weren’t trying to kill you then they were doing an awful job of keeping you alive.”

Newt shakes his head, pressing himself back against the wall to keep as much space between them as he can. “That doesn’t make sense, they need me to stop you because you keep murdering people.”

“I don’t, actually,” the vampire says, shifting his grip to hold Newt in place with his hip so he can use his hand to pin Newt’s wrists above his head. He tilts his head consideringly and Newt flushes an embarrassed red. “They murder each other and blame me when anyone starts asking questions. The only ones I kill are the ones that attack me, and that hasn’t happened for a while now.”

“But that - you’re a vampire, killing people is what you do.” Newt moves to gesture with his hands but the grip around his wrists tightens in warning, and he tilts his head instead to illustrate his point. “You drink people’s blood and kill them and…” He trails off. The vampire’s gaze has zeroed in on his neck. He’s smirking again, amused, almost indulgent; he’s got Newt pinned in an entirely too suggestive position he can’t fight back from, and Newt’s just reminded him that vampires kill people and then all but offered his neck in invitation.

He bites his lip to keep from saying anything more and hunches his shoulders protectively.

“For someone so keen on truth, you have a lot of misconceptions about me,” the vampire says. He leans forward, pressing his nose into the soft skin behind Newt’s ear, and Newt shivers at how cold it is. “Perhaps I should correct them,” he rumbles softly. “If you’re staying, you should know who you’re staying with.”

“Staying?” Newt squeaks. “I’m not staying, you can’t just keep me here!”

“And yet, it’d be highly irresponsible of me to let you leave. Your shepherd might not care where you wander off to, little lamb, but you’ll find I’m not so negligent as him.” He draws back, but doesn’t relax his grip on Newt’s wrists. His other hand, balancing Newt’s thigh, is comparatively gentle; Newt can feel the faintest hint of claws catching on his clothes as the vampire traces a pattern with his fingers. “What’s your name?”

“Newt,” Newt answers on reflex. “I’m still not going to -”

“Newt,” the vampire cuts across him, eyes burning crimson and over-bright. Something tugs on Newt’s thoughts, but he shakes it off and the vampire frowns. “Stubborn,” he chides. “A nickname, perhaps? Could you be a Nathan, or something different altogether - no, simpler. Newton.” He smiles, and Newt stares, transfixed. “Newton,” the vampire repeats in a satisfied purr; it rolls through Newt’s mind like a fog, wrapping around him and leaving him boneless and pliant in the vampire’s hold.

“Doesn’t seem fair,” he says in a voice verging on breathless, “you knowing my name if I don’t know yours.” Distantly, he recognises the feeling of warmth creeping through him as the vampire’s thrall, but the only thing he can think of to fight it is to pray, and he’s forgotten the words.

“Very stubborn,” the vampire amends approvingly. “But not particularly subtle. My name is my secret, but you can call me… Graves. Now, Newton. Sleep.”

What kind of a name is Graves, Newt thinks, and in a flash of inspiration he remembers: Pater noster, qui es in caelis -

The thrall makes his limbs heavy and his thoughts sweet and slow like honey. He feels Graves rearrange him into a bridal carry and makes a soft noise in protest.

“Sleep,” Graves insists, and despite himself, Newt sleeps.

[the-mandalorian-clone-lover]

Aces in Spaces Chapter 21

New Chapter!

Roman and Erica having been dating a little over three years now:D

Warnings for a dude being a creep and not taking hints but Roman and Erica handle it together, more Roman being a wonderfully considerate human being

Tags: @maybege​ @sunshinepascal​ @rentskenobi​ @agent-450​ @princessxkenobi​ @obaby-wan​ 

Masterlist

(This is Erica’s dress for this chapter, I imagine Roman in a black suit but his tie and pocket scarf match her dress)

It isn’t really an office party but Erica would say its something like it given the types Roman “works” with. The whole restaurant rented in advance and bustling with ‘associates’, their security armed to the teeth, waiters flitting around and everyone more than a little buzzed. She’s grown used to being at Roman’s side during events like this, mingling with those he does business with, and she’s grown used to how they usually respond. The more polite ones address her by name, the brazen ones dare to call her pet names (which usually earn at minimum a glare and Butch’s looming presence, its rarely a repeated offense), there are a choice few that still refuse to acknowledge her at all but Roman never stands for it, deliberately asking her opinion and citing her ideas. The reaction she’s currently getting however, is not any of those. Roman has been wrapped in a discussion the better part of a half hour but it hadn’t taken her long to feel the gaze of another as she sat at his side.

A cursory glance had located the perpetrator on the other end of the room, near the bar, but he hadn’t stayed there. It didn’t bother her at first, she’d been stared at before, but it kept getting worse. The man in question was older, silver-haired and tall. At first she’d blamed it on curiosity, but the increasingly predatory stares that were impossible to ignore from his deliberate placement in her line of sight didn’t stem from curiosity. At least not about anything she was going to indulge. The longer she waited the worse it would get, this much she knew. Leaning into Roman she sighed. Why did men have to be dense and persistent?

She deliberately makes a show of toying with the edge of his collar, brushing her hand along his shoulder and down his arm, if the man wouldn’t respond to her signals, maybe he would heed Roman’s.

Roman acknowledges her immediately, turning with a smile, hand covering hers and leaning down to nuzzle her bare shoulder. He whispers discreetly in her ear as he leans away, “Are you alright?”

She hums, nodding. “Just admiring.”

He smiles at the table, business demeanor cracking just slightly, and he brushes his thumb along the top of her hand that still rests on his forearm. He nods at her, getting pulled back into the conversation almost immediately but he keeps his hand over hers. Hopefully it’s enough.

She hears rustling behind her and realizes too late who it is, regretting immediately that she’d turned to look.

“Is this seat taken?”

He’s oozing charm but the only thing it accomplishes is to fill her with a desire to throw up.

She resists the urge to cover herself, his gaze making her feel as though she’s naked, but it’s not as if he can see anything anyway. Her dress is a brilliant blue, backless and v-necked but not scandalously so. Instead she chooses to lean away from him, nearly laying her head on Roman’s shoulder as she looks up at the man standing above her.

“I don’t know” She begins, voice care-free, eyes locked on his before swinging her head away. “Is it? Lover?”

Roman turns almost absently, giving the man a glance before narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Mr. Barton?”

The man pauses, seemingly surprised at the response but recovers quickly with a smile, nodding. “Didn’t think you’d remember me Mr. Stanton, it’s been quite a long time.”

Romans eyes are still narrowed and his face screws up momentarily before smoothing again and that charming grin makes its way onto his lips as he stands to offer his hand. “Well you’re quite unforgettable Ben.”

The handshake happens just above Erica’s head but she waits, Roman will introduce her, and hopefully make a show of it.

They sit back down in unison, Roman’s arm falling to rest on the back of her chair as Ben’s comes to rest on the table, Erica lets her own fall back into her lap before giving Roman her full attention. At his pause to admire her eyes she reaches to bring his hand from the back of the chair to her hip, unfortunately he misses the cue to be slow and possessive about it. Damn.

“This is Erica, the love of my life.” He leaves out a title and Erica falters for the briefest of moments before turning to smile at Ben, neglecting to offer her own hand and leaning back into Roman.

“Delighted I’m sure” Comes her voice and she almost laughs at herself because she hasn’t played this fake in years but, it seems the situation calls for it. She decides to add on, “Roman and I have been together for years” (it’s true) “he’s never mentioned you.” Ben offers a hand anyway, giving her a grin as if he’s caught her in a trap and she shrugs absently.

“Sorry- my hands are busy.”

She knows the implication and oh if it doesn’t make her feel good to see him nearly choke in response.

“I—Um--.”

She feigns sudden understanding and embarrassment. “Oh—” She brings a hand to hover over her mouth, using her other to grab Roman’s hand to hold and display their interlocked fingers, “I didn’t mean anything by it—” It’s a perfect opportunity for him to jump in, she’s set the stage beautifully if he’ll just—

“No one thought so love it’s quite alright.” Roman calls over a waiter to change the subject and while it does work she isn’t sure it’ll last. She also isn’t sure how Roman is missing the way this ‘Ben’ is looking at her. Sleezy doesn’t begin to cover it.

Roman turns to say goodbye to the others he’d been talking with and Ben doesn’t miss a beat, sliding closer and leaning toward her. “So what is a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this?” His question is soon accompanied by what Erica knows had better not be a hand on her thigh and she crosses her legs so it slides off.

“Roman is—” She hesitates the slightest second because ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t begin to cover all that he is, all the love she has for him, or all that he’s done for her. It feels so juvenile, and yet she knows Ben will read too far into anything else. “my boyfriend. And we always come to these types of things together.”

Ben has the audacity to scoot his chair close to get another hand on her, this time on the bare skin of her back above her dress. If Roman doesn’t turn around right this minute—

“He’s never said a word to me about you” His eyes move over her appraisingly, “pretty thing, any chance you’re bored with him?”

She knows disgust is seeping into her face so she decides to switch tactics.

She leans further away, turning to press her back all the way into Roman’s chest (by extension forcing him to let his hand drop again), reaching her own hand up behind her to turn him. Grabbing the back of Roman’s head and bringing his face alongside hers to turn and look at him, she hopes it doesn’t come to kissing, that’s just between the two of them—surely a few heated glances would do the trick?

Roman was intrigued when Barton turned up so suddenly, having gotten back into town rather recently from that jaunt in Europe, and it didn’t surprise him that the man hadn’t bothered to keep tabs on anyone (given his reputation and character Roman knew already which head the man used to think). It wasn’t out of the question that he was curious about Erica, she was beautiful, a head-turner in every way. It didn’t bother him necessarily that he’d inserted himself, it was common, and since they’d been acquaintances before, it made sense that he had. What doesn’t make sense is the way Erica has been acting ever since he sat down. Had Ben somehow managed to drug her? Roman knew brushing her hands along his arm was normal—she did that all the time, her comment about her hands was less so, and now nearly crawling into his lap to drape herself over his chest (and the no doubt intentional shifting of her hips that nearly landed his hand right on her butt in Ben’s full view)? Definitely not normal, and he’s, concerned, to say the least.

He attempts to be discreet, taking advantage of her head being turned toward him to move his own slightly behind her. He feels her shift and his other arm goes around her waist to secure her, was the chair that slick?

“Are you alright?”

She hums a laugh, leaning away and giving him, a look she certainly hasn’t before. A look that on any other woman would make her intentions about a bedroom perfectly clear. But Roman knows Erica, and he knows she doesn’t want that, so what is going on?

“Don’t say things like that” She pushes his chest playfully, looking around the room “Someone might hear you!”

He plays along, frowning at her as if he doesn’t understand her game (because he really doesn’t) and reaches out to grab her hand before she can pull it away. What impulse it is exactly he isn’t sure but somehow her hand ends up by his mouth and he kisses it before leveling her with an equally heated look. “You didn’t answer me.”

He keeps his voice low, deep and sultry, lips brushing against her wrist as he adds, “I don’t like it when you don’t answer me love.”

Her lips start to curl and finally he realizes. Ben must have been attempting to proposition her, ignoring her disinterest, and she seemed to be trying to put it in terms he would understand.

He drags his lips up then, to the inside of her hand and allows his eyes to wander her figure, leaning away finally to let his tongue dart out and wet his lips.

Her pupils widen a fraction and he’s somehow forgotten about everything else, he isn’t sure how much time goes by with their eyes locked, Erica looking slightly breathless but he barely manages to catch Ben coughing and clearing his throat, mumbling something about leaving before he looks away from her.

“Pardon?”

Ben looks back from where he’s begun to stand, eyes flitting to Erica who hasn’t stopped staring at Roman, before shaking his head. “Uh yeah—gonna head out, probably should get back before the jet lag hits.”

Before Roman can answer Butch cuts in coldly. “I’ll walk you out.”

Roman nods, waiting until they’re both out of sight before turning back to Erica, the embodiment of concern as he takes her in “Are you alright?”

She deflates. Moving to sit back in her chair and swallowing hard. She mumbles out “Took you long enough.” But directs it at the table.

“Sorry about that. I did catch onto the game though, can I place an official request for a code word in the future?” He tilts his head, holding out a hand on the table top, feeling like he’s crossed enough boundaries for the next four years, “I thought you’d been drugged. I’ve never seen you act that way—I didn’t think you’d want to.”

She takes another breath, wrinkling her nose before schooling her features once again. “Can we go home? I think I’ve had enough for one night.”

He nods, beginning to retract his hand but her own darts out, pulling it back onto the table and into her own. “I’m keeping this.” A pause. “It’s mine now.”

He raises his eyebrows, “Oh?”

“I’ve certainly earned it. In fact I’d like an Oscar too, much as I love you, you aren’t all that.”

He laughs out loud, giving her that open mouthed grin again “Oh really?”

She shakes her head defiantly, “Not at all. Wouldn’t have looked twice at you if you hadn’t offered me food.”

Roman gasps, other hand coming to his chest in mock horror, “I’m wounded.”

She shakes her head and Butch reappears at her opposite shoulder. “Ms. Erica I’m so sorry—I couldn’t have gotten over fast enough when I saw what he was doing—I can’t believe he had the audacity—”

Roman’s expression clouds immediately. “What. Did. He. Do.”

Erica immediately waves a hand toward Butch that he takes without a thought as she stands pulling Roman with her. “Not here. I want to go home.”

They do, and Roman broods the whole way, though he does take care to keep her as close as she wants to be (which is very). Her comfort is more important than his ego. Finally speaking once they’re in the door and pulling off their shoes, he grinds out,

“You don’t have to tell me. But I’m never letting him near you ever again either way.”

She drags a hand through her hair, discarding her wrap on the table and turning to let Roman unzip her dress.

“It wasn’t—” She pauses, picking her skirt up to walk to their bedroom, turning to grab Roman’s hand, to comfort him or herself he isn’t sure.

Pulling him along she sighs, thumb brushing along the back of his hand as they walk and he moves to pull off his tie, might as well multi-task.

She discards the dress over a chair in their bedroom and turns to him, “I didn’t like it. But, well. I did like it.”

He’s shocked, and maybe a little hurt. She--?

“Not him!” She amends quickly both hands coming up in a placating motion. “I meant—" She moves forward and wraps both arms around his waist before burying her face in his neck. He wraps his arms around her slowly, just barely having adjusted to her being comfortable with him touching her like this, his palms gliding along her skin gently.

“I, I liked, I liked that I knew I could act like that and I could trust you.” She pulls away just enough to look him in the eyes and he loosens his hold, fingers brushing along her spine As he looks deeply into her eyes. “I knew you had my back.” Her eyes dart between his. “We were partners. I liked it.”

He doesn’t understand, not really. But he isn’t sure how to ask.

“I mean, I liked that I—Roman what I’m trying to say is I knew that I could be sexy and act like I wanted you and you wouldn’t force me to follow it through even after he left. You always check things with me and tonight made me realize just how much I’ve come to trust that. I didn’t even really think about it, I just knew.”

Roman is very nearly floored again by her admiration of his behavior. She should expect this from anyone. This is how people should behave. “Of course” He says matter-of-factly, “Just because—” He falters for a moment, “You’ll always be allowed to tell me no, regardless of what it is. You’re a human being, not something I can do anything I like with.” He moves his hands to her shoulders and pushes her away the slightest bit, somehow he feels like touching her might tarnish this.

“You are my lover, what you want and need always comes first, even if I don’t always feel the same way about it. I—” He hesitates. He hasn’t said anything like what he’s about to since they started dating three years ago and—he still isn’t sure it’s a good idea but- she’s raising her eyebrows in question and well.

“I thought you were smokin.”

Her laughter bubbles over almost immediately, folding in on herself and wrinkling her nose before looking back up to him with a soft sigh as she smiles. “Roman.” Her hands slide under his jacket and untuck his shirt to brush her hands along his back. “I love you. So much.”

He smiles back, eyes flitting over her face before his hands come to her cheeks and he pulls her into a forehead kiss before cradling her to his chest.

“I love you too.”

*************************

[loststargrazer-blog]

What Comes First, Theory or Reality?

In the history of natural philosophy and in fact all philosophy and much academic work besides, there has been a strong tendency to create theory, whether this is Aristotle's Physics or even a topic like modern critical theory. In fact every university subject today is brimming with theory, and a churn of half baked theories continues; it is what drives academic careers. One can question this: Should there be theories for everything? Also, can we know if there is a valid theory for all topics? Can we even justify turning all this theorising into syllabus, and of course dogma, that is taught, read, and absorbed into our beliefs as part of the creative greater self?

There have been philosophers like Sir Karl Popper who held that knowledge wasn't proven, but theorised, and these theories were tested, if not falsified, then held as provisional pragmatic truths. But given that there is almost an infinity of theory and likely only one true minimal and complete description, it doesn't seem to me that Popper's approach would be very successful in finding a true description of the universe unless there was a pre-selection, a seeing of what is going on in order to select/build a theory. However, empirical observation relies on a theory of logical consistency, a theory of how the domain works, an analysis of objects in the field, the mindset of the observer, and a number of factors local to the experiment. So it becomes clear that most theorising is the process of adding layers of philosophical speculation to other philosophical speculation. Is all this theory a load of rubbish?

* * *

With empirical results there is often a repeatable observation, however with theory there is just the adding of layers, one on top of the other. If a single flaw exists then the tower is unsound. There is also a difference between the mathematical descriptions of physics and economics and the analysis of critical theory in literature studies or psychoanalysis. The mathematical sciences are more highly defined, with problems fitting to the world as described in blog 15, 'What Does It All Mean?', but interpretations are less of an issue. Other subjects have greater interpretation issues, for example finding it inexact when offering theories about theory about descriptions about interpretations. As a result, the theories morph according to things like political interest. An example of disagreement is a Marxist interpretation of counter revolutionary facts, like believing the CIA can drive history and economics single handed. This is less of a problem in physics, but still dogmas persist like the millenium long reign of Aristotle's physics, only punctured by the heroic efforts and experiments of free thinking giants like Galileo, Newton, and Einstein who rejected more theory than they created.

In the analytical philosophy tradition of the 20th Century there was a rejection of some theorising, particularly metaphysics, as it was argued it was meaningless because it had become detached from its empirical foundations. An aggressive form of empiricism became dominant in the UK. I see this historical debate as flawed on both sides (see blog 11: 'What Makes Us for Real?'), however it has asked some questions which are still important like:

1) How can we justify theories and theorising;

2) Does everything need theories;

3) Are more abstract theories like cultural theories valid like scientific ones, or are they pseudo-intellectual and meaningless;

4) Is it possible to create grand narratives from systematizing theory or are they all just local and observable?

I have previously touched on a number of these themes, but we will briefly try to answer these questions here with reference to the previous blogs as a conclusion to our endeavours that will help you understand and argue with people who want to inflict a grand narrative on you, or their value judgements, as is often the case in education, religion, politics, debate, or even just the marketing of products promoting a way of doing things.

The first question, how can we justify theories, is another way of asking about justifying generalisations that we discussed in blog 5: 'Were You or Your Big Data Given to Generalising...?'. If we are making a generalisation, we are creating a simple theory that the world works in a particular way. The problem becomes a new problem when we extend the theory so that it changes from becoming a local theory, for example Napoleon was erratic, to becoming so wide and far from the evidence; for example Napoleon was an agent of the spirit of history that had manifested itself since creation (to slightly abuse Hegel). This proceeds to our second question, does everything need theories. For example, has Hegel's view of history been a positive influence, is it valid, is it false, can we tell the difference?

These questions lie within the last blog on religion, (blog 17: 'What Good Is Religion after the Lies?'); for if a theory is not a local scientific theory, given at the correct level of non-reduction (as mentioned in blog 8: 'Is AI & Science Stuck in an Unhelpful Reductionist Paradigm...?'), then the role of the theory must be religious. We have accepted that although grand narrative theories (or religious theories) may not or can not be proven or even correct, we need religion. So we need religious theory to provide us with a framework for our worldview, lives, and judgements.

This answers our third question, are abstract theories like religious ones meaningless. The answer to this is they define people, so even if you think square circles lay eggs on Tuesdays, this is still meaningful even though it doesn't apply to anything. Many theories may be pseudo-intellectual as, like religion, they can't be falsified, and this is the definition of pseudo-scientific provided by the Vienna Circle group of philosophers. Unlike the Vienna Circle, we can see this lack of falsifiability does not make the theory meaningless, but religious.

Religious or grand narrative theories can certainly be produced, in fact they are impossible to get rid of, but I would disagree with the claim they are scientific as part of the answer to the third question. Many theorists mistake their religious beliefs for scientific ones. particularly when they apply inappropriate scientific thought to areas out of scope in sphere confusions (as discussed in blog 1: 'A Little Understanding Has Big Implications'). I would define the opposite of Post-Atheism (discussed in the previous blog) to be Moral Totalitarianism, and this term applies equally to extreme religion as extreme politics like marxism, fascism, or absolute rule. There is a framework that defies justification in scientific terms, but still controls the narrative in participants through a grand narrative of a religious order.

So answering the fourth question, you can create positive impact grand narratives, although attempts to do so usually have a less good conclusion. There are some clear examples of dodgy narratives having positive effects: For example the US constitution making everyone equal before God and the law, when it is not clear that there is any true equality; but at least this helps rather than hinders justice, even if the laws themselves are sometimes highly prejudiced like the war on drugs. However, I do not think claiming equality before 'God' is a valid scientific claim. So while, like Hegel, it is possible to make grand claims, and for them to be meaningful, I don't think they are likely to be correct or justified in absolute terms.

* * *

We have an important branch of thought that is not scientific, but is rational and hyper real (see blog 11: 'What Makes Us for Real?'). It sits between mathematics, religion, science, and empirical description. I claim this whole archipelago, this whole continent, in the name of philosophy. You as philosophers shall find your kingdom here, and your hyper reality. You shall rule academies with your exciting theorising, your refining, analysing, and defining. Thinkers of all types will hang on your every word as you define their deepest prejudices.

* * *

The conclusion is passed, now we are in the post-note, the health warning; and we shall discuss the pratfalls of theory and philosophy that you need to avoid. There is the naive view that philosophers can be wrong, but we know this is usually not the biggest problem for theory. More dangerous is being confused; however the biggest existential threat is being illogical; but if you deny, defy, mould, and redefine your theory, selling it as you go, then you may hold onto it for generations until it becomes a permanent religious feature.

Being logical is not that hard, a simple guide to logic may help if it is unclear, but anyone with exposure to truth tables, computer code, electronics gates, will already be familiar with most of the useful content. To be useful with logic, you need a knack for good definitions; this comes with practice. An eye for synthesising arguments is a creative skill, like writing verse, but even your garbled thoughts can be clarified and will probably be seen as genius where there is a gap in the theory.

Now we will consider a topic of philosophy that was open to confusion in the past and even rejected from some of the philosophy canon, 'ontology' the way of existence. The aim of this exercise is for you to criticise the arguments and come up with your own bits of ontology.  There will be some clues after this stack argument:

1) Properties are real

2) Causation is the actualisation of properties

3) Emergence is caused

4) The hyper real is emergent

5) Language is hyper real

6) Description is language

7) The impossible are descriptions

Therefore: 8) The impossible are real

So perhaps you like this argument? This argument is a good example of religious thinking as it takes arguments from across the blogs, but probably this is a distraction from how you define what is real. The argument is somewhat consistent (or circular as you might otherwise call it), especially if you leave out steps 2-6.

Of course every argument benefits from follow up arguments. So if you rejected the first step ('premise 1'), consider this:

1) Unused properties do not exist in the real

2) Scientific laws are mostly about unused properties

Therefore 3) Scientific laws mostly do not exist in reality

4) Properties are a thing's nature

5) A thing's nature exists

6) Scientific laws express a thing's properties

Therefore 7) Scientific laws exist

8) If a thing is contradictory, then it is impossible

Therefore 9) The existence of scientific laws is contradictory being both true and false

Therefore 10) Scientific laws are impossible

I think this argument is interesting and is a bit like that popular meme:

Cheese has holes

More cheese = more holes

More holes = less cheese

So more cheese = less cheese

So the reason ontology is not as popular as it was two centuries ago is that there are probably multiple definitions of real, and probably even no grand narratives to realness. So ontology is a muddle that is mostly semantic; it is also highly religious and so it is difficult to be definitive; for example, does Hegel's world spirit of history exist when you can't really prove empirically that it doesn't? Accordingly, this is just one example where you can freely make up your own philosophy and add it to any theory you are interested in, so following a rich tradition of thinkers of all types, left, right, ancient, modern, scientific, or religious; examples include Plato's forms, Newton's universal time, Marx's march of history, Aristotle's forces, various theisms, the free market, mathematical objects, etc.

Based on what I said about identity in blog 6: 'Is Cause and Effect the Wonderwall of Everything?', you can also add that while properties like motion exist, the objects in motion do not persist, and this applies to all properties over time. Further factor in emergent properties and latent properties. Thus to make claims about the things existing in the world is to be open to a massive confusion of identity and the real, lending itself to much interpretation. This should keep you in theory for a while.

Before anyone decides it is clear the impossible works better than science, I will dig you out of the stack argument the way I see best: This is to say that scientific laws only exist as descriptions, like the impossible. A real description is not the same as being real unless you are talking about a theory like mathematics; so scientific laws are only descriptions of the possible. But whether you think latent properties are real, I leave to you. Perhaps they are just part of the impossible, also described like the possible, when considered in absolute terms like whether they have causal existence, which they don't. When they do have that causal existence, their identities will have changed; so that what exists in the latent category is the cause of a cause or the cause of an ability to interact to create an emergent property. This would unwrap the problem for you so you may redefine everything to your taste.

* * *

I shall now end with some final words. Philosophy is sometimes ignored, but it can be a battleground. There is something to the cliche that philosophy can alienate people, however this is much less likely if you take a post-atheist approach as described in the last blog. Although the possibility remains that people will alienate you, normally this will be based on something you now understand and can feel empowered to reason with. Philosophy is a many sided coin; one side is the power of theory to interpret meaning and change lives.

Our final conclusion to this blog question of what comes first, theory or reality, is that they live together in our minds' eye. So although much theory is a waste of time, it will define our thinking and concepts.

[veliseraptor]

You might've answered this already but what are some of your favorite Loki quotes? Also, you are wonderful and don't let anyone make you think otherwise

I really thought I’d written one for this! But if I did I can’t find it. (Just a favorite scenes post, which, there will be some overlap.)

But sure, I’ll go for this one. As usual, I wrote an essay! What else do you expect from me, a person who does this on a regular basis.

1. “Satisfaction is not in my nature.”

I have talked before (a lot!) about how this is, to me, one of the most character defining quotes for Loki - because it is so much of his issue. Loki is someone who is always wanting, always hungry, and sometimes he doesn’t even really know what he wants. He doesn’t know what will make him happy, just that he’s unhappy. And even in a positive way, he’s never fully satisfied - driven, ambitious, curious. 

And also there’s the aspect of how even when he gets what he wants it’s very, very hard, if not impossible, to accept it, or believe in it. To trust that it’s real. Not to poke and prod and look for the holes and traps and deceptions in it. Never satisfied. Never settled.

Loki’s not someone who does stability very well, if at all. It’s all constant motion, constant change, constant seeking, never standing still.

2. “I never wanted the throne! I only wanted to be your equal.”

I wrote a little recently about how I think this line is not...untrue, but it’s qualified truth. And in this moment it’s very interesting - falling during the fight with Thor, where he is in a lot of ways trying to provoke Thor’s anger and force a fight. But here he is speaking something that on the face of it could be conciliatory - it’s explicitly saying ‘this isn’t about me usurping your rightful place, this isn’t about me wanting to be King, this is about me wanting to be your equal” - with the implication, never really addressed, that he isn’t. 

That Loki’s understanding of his standing is fundamentally as less than. As inferior. And while I understand why not, it is a little sad that no one says something to the effect of ‘you are.’ (Which, while there’s objections to be made about how that’s expressed, at least opens a conversation about those objections rather than just breezing on by them as though there’s no merit to that emotional response or assumption that, well, he’s just right. But anyway. Communication! This family ain’t good at it.)

This is definitely a line that gets lost a lot, I think, in peoples’ understanding of Loki - that his desire for power is only secondarily for its own sake, and first and foremost for a goal of meeting a standard (Thor) that he’s set himself. (And also as a means to safety, but that’s another thing.) 

But boy is it potent. And, like the satisfaction line, so central to an understanding of who Loki is, and why he does what he does.

3. “If I am for the axe, then for mercy’s sake, swing it. It’s not that I don’t love our little talks, it’s just…I don’t love them.”

I wrote some meta a while back about the opening scene between Loki and Odin in The Dark World that I found while looking for something else, here and also here, which doesn’t surprise me that I did that because I have a lot of feelings about that scene. Like, as many as I have about the Vault scene in the first movie, probably.

There’s just so much going on in the whole thing, but this line specifically has stuck with me, because it’s an instance of Loki being flippant while also…not being that at all.

I talk in the linked post about how Loki walks into this scene expecting this to be a death sentence. He’s pretty ready for that, and he’s just going to go out with a bang with the verbal equivalent of a backflip with two middle fingers in Odin’s direction. 

So here he’s basically like “if you’re going to bore me like this you might as well just kill me, because you’re boring me to death, get it, because you’re going to execute me eventually so let’s just get there already” which is just…yeah, it makes me feel things. 

4. “Are you mad?” “Possibly.”

I know I wrote about this at one point when I was talking about Loki’s relationship with his own sanity/instability, but I can’t find that post, so I’ll just have to talk about it again. Good thing I can do that.

Like, this is a flippant response to Thor, but on the other hand there’s an honesty to it (like his flippant response to Odin, above). Is he mad? Maybe. Hard to say, even for Loki - he thinks maybe he is, a lot of the time, and that’s something he’s just kind of rolling with right now. It also fits with Loki’s generally manic energy throughout the scene after Thor springs him from prison, which also gives me a lot of feelings - it’s like…oh, this is a terrible comparison, but it’s like when you have a dog with a lot of energy who has been inside all day and then you take them out and the reaction is like. Running in wild circles because oh finally finally finally. 

And that’s…I mean, ouch, works with my headcanons about how putting Loki in a space where he can’t do much but think is one of the worst things for him. 

I just generally have a weak spot, too, for Loki making jokes about things that really aren’t funny.

5. “You know, it all makes sense now, why you favored Thor all these years. Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!”

This whole scene is A Lot, and this whole exchange is A Lot, but I settled on this specific line, because woof there’s so much here. There’s the bit about favoring Thor, there’s ‘claim to love me’ (instantly, doubt of that love, it’s not real, none of this has ever been real, his entire identity is thrown into doubt and therefore everything else is too), there’s the feeling of ‘I’ve been set up to fail all along and you never meant me for anything else.’ And the implicit, in the idea of ‘could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne’ bit, affirmation of his worthlessness but also of his inferiority (monstrousness) on the basis solely of his origins.

I’ve talked before about how after this reveal Loki pins a lot of everything that’s gone wrong in his life, and everything that’s wrong with him, on his being a Frost Giant. That it becomes a focal point for all his self-hatred and self-doubt. (That’s here too - ‘it all makes sense now.’ This, this one truth about me, explains everything that’s bad about me and my life.’) That’s where the idea comes from that, well, if I can only wipe out this part of me, completely disown it, prove that it’s meaningless and I am a true son of Asgard...then everything will be fine. 

(Even while he knows, I’m sure, that isn’t true. He needs it to be true, because or else...well, we see what happens when he loses that lifeline.)

This line is very much...everything comes down to this. It is the essence of Loki’s breaking point, of what breaks Loki, where the downhill slide that began with the Frost Giant grabbing his arm on Jotunheim completes and he tips over the edge. This line, right here. And when Odin drops without responding...there’s no going back, because Loki’s is the last word.

6. “You’re my brother and my friend. Sometimes I’m envious, but never doubt that I love you.”

I feel like sometimes people read this line with the knowledge that Loki is literally setting Thor up to fail as he speaks and therefore it’s not true, or is somehow disingenuous, but I genuinely don’t think that’s the case. I think Loki does mean it. That he does love Thor, more deeply and intensely than basically anyone else.

I mean, I have talked before about how there is no contradiction in loving and hating your sibling, not really - and definitely no contradiction in loving your sibling so much and at the same time feeling a deep, burning resentment of their place in life and in the family. 

And to the question of Loki’s motivations - whether he does this initially because he genuinely believes Thor is going to be a disastrous ruler for Asgard or because he wants to ruin Thor’s coronation and take him down a few notches (though never, I think, intending to either a) actually reach Jotunheim or b) get Thor exiled), and I think my answer to that question, as with so many of Loki’s motivations, is ‘can’t it be both?’

But none of that negates how much Loki does care about Thor, in a desperate and often horrifyingly codependent way. And I think on some level Loki says this knowing he’s setting Thor up for a fall, because he’s doing that - because he wants Thor to know that, even when everything collapses around him (as it is going to do), Loki still cares about him. 

And also affirming it and reminding himself of that, too, as I figure he does when the envy and resentment gets too strong: remember you love him. Remember he’s your brother. Remember that makes it worth it. 

I read this as a very genuine moment, which also makes everything that comes after that much more painful.

7. “I didn’t do it for him.”

Mostly here it’s the contrast - at the end of Thor Loki’s last line is “I could have done it for you! For all of us,” spoken to Odin, before he attempts suicide. And here, before he (believes he) dies, he says this in answer to Thor’s saying he’ll tell Odin that Loki died with honor. 

He could mean either Frigga, or Thor - I lean toward Thor, in this case, because it was Thor’s life he sacrificed himself saving - but regardless, he doesn’t mean Odin. It’s a shifting of his priorities, and whose approval and/or love he cares about most. Odin is no longer the priority. 

And it just…hurts, too. This whole exchange does (I considered using ‘see you in Hel, monster’ because of what it says about Loki’s expectations about himself), but this line especially is…and also what a gut punch for Thor, too. Having this glimpse of the Loki he knew and loved only for him to be snatched away again.

8. “It hurts, doesn’t it? Being lied to. Being told you’re one thing and then learning it’s all a fiction.”

This is another line I’ve written about before because of the way it’s so double-edged and so very Loki. It is simultaneously pointed and mocking (”see how it feels now, huh? I did this years ago and you didn’t care then”) and also, tacitly (and especially as Loki goes on to offer Thor a way out), a kind of sympathy (”I know how this feels, I’ve been here”). And there’s a certain pleasure in being able to be that kind of magnanimous, and a certain pleasure in the spite as well.

It’s both, at the same time. The satisfaction and the compassion. And that’s what Loki is like, in a lot of ways: those contradictions, the push-pull of conflicting emotions and motivations, always in tension. Which is what makes him such a fascinating character, but is also part of what makes his life so hard.