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david-talks-sw · 1 year

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Luke Skywalker in 'The Last Jedi' (1/2)

Luke in The Last Jedi... love it or hate it, it's a difficult subject.

I personally stand somewhere in the middle. I don't think Luke was "ruined"... I'd argue that, from a purely in-universe perspective, his subplot actually tracks with what was previously established in the original films.

There are issues, but I think they are mainly found on an out-of-universe/structural level (which I'll get into in post 2/2). For now, let's take a deep dive and unpack why this portrayal isn't all that problematic.

The most commonly-heard argument is that:

"They ruined Luke's character! He would never go into exile or abandon his sister and friends!"

Simply put, Luke used to be:

an optimist

so brave he'd risk his life to save his friends,

aspired to become a Jedi.

Whereas, in The Last Jedi, he's:

jaded and depressed,

hides/abandons his sister and friends, like a coward,

says the Jedi need to die?!

Now the fact is... Luke is 24 years older when he goes into exile, 30 years older in The Last Jedi. People change, with age.

In Luke's case, he matured from an impatient kid who'd rashly run to save his friends, like in Empire Strikes Back, to a grown-up who makes hard choices and restrains himself from doing that, even though he desperately wants to.

Luke tells himself this is a self-sacrifice, this is for the greater good.

"Because he’s the last Jedi and a symbol of that it then becomes this self-sacrifice, he has take himself out of it, when he knows his friends are dying, when the thing he’d most like to do is get back in the fight." - Rian Johnson, The Empire Film Podcast, 2018

And Rian Johnson didn't want Luke to come across as a coward, so he also gave Luke an argument that initially seems to make sense:

The Jedi way is flawed and inevitably leads to arrogance. Proof: the Sith originally came from Jedi. His own new order is no exception to that rule, even if he thought it was (in his arrogance, he believed his own legend).

So if he leaves and stays in exile? No more Jedi, no more Jedi-turned-darksiders that can mess up the galaxy.

The Force will keep trying to balance itself and a new, worthier source will appear (in the form of Rey).

But while his reasoning that "the Jedi are inevitably arrogant" seems sound and reasonable... it's wrong.

Just like Dooku's reasoning that "the Jedi are corrupt" seems sound, but is ultimately wrong.

Just like Anakin's rationalization that "the Jedi are evil" seems sound nope, that one doesn't even seem sound, it's just plain wrong.

Where is it wrong, in Luke's case?

Well, he's rationalizing his actions by blaming the Jedi religion, instead of admitting his own failure.

"The notion of, 'Nope, toss this all away and find something new,' is not really a valid choice, I think. Ultimately, Luke's exile and his justifications for it are all covering over his guilt over Kylo." - Rian Johnson, The Art of The Last Jedi, 2017

"In his own way, [Luke is] trying to disconnect, he’s trying to throw away the past, he’s saying 'Let’s kill [the Jedi] religion. It’s the thing that’s messing us up, thins thing right here, let’s kill it.’ And the truth is, it’s a personal failure. It’s not religion, it’s his own human nature that’s betrayed him." - Rian Johnson, The Empire Film Podcast, 2018

He fucked up, plain and simple.

But it's not because “he’s a Jedi and that made him arrogant and the Jedi mentality is flawed”, as he claims early on in the movie.

He failed because he's flawed. Luke is human and had a moment of weakness where he was scared shitless and acted on instinct.

Yoda's spirit helps him realize this, and he fixes his mistake by allowing Leia and the resistance to save themselves. And as he does it, he acknowledges the importance of the Jedi and their teachings.

And it's also why, in The Rise of Skywalker, he has the maturity to admit that he wasn't staying on the island out of some self-sacrificial gesture, as he kept telling himself. Truth is, he was afraid. Afraid he'd screw up again.

Do the movies go about this in an emotionally-satisfying way? That's debatable. But, on paper, I don't think Luke's behavior in The Last Jedi is too much of a shark-jump considering how

THE ORIGINAL IDEA CAME FROM GEORGE LUCAS!

In the couple of months after the Disney sale, Lucas developed the Sequels with Michael Arndt in late 2012/early 2013, and concept art was made by artists like Christian Alzmann.

Note: the image on the left got a “Fabouloso” stamp of approval from Lucas!

Lucas’ sequels would feature a Luke Skywalker who was a figure like the jaded, reclusive Colonel Kurtz in the movie Apocalypse Now (which, fun fact, Lucas helped write and was originally set to direct).

The reason why Luke was in self-imposed exile wasn’t specified, all we know is that he was:

hiding from the world in a cave,

haunted by the betrayal of one of his students,

and spiritually in a dark place.

Other concept artists, like James Clyne, tried to illustrate the First Jedi Temple and some of the designs were approved by Lucas, such as the one below.

Eventually, Kira the female Jedi-wannabe protagonist (who eventually became Rey) would seek him out so he can train her.

This Luke would be a much more prominent part of Episode VII (instead of only appearing at the end) but still died at the end of Episode VIII.

For sources and more information about George Lucas’ plans for the Sequel Trilogy, read this post.

The only part that wasn't detailed by Lucas were the specifics of why he went into exile. But all in all, this sounds pretty similar to what we got in The Last Jedi.

"Luke would never try to kill Ben!”

I agree. And he didn’t try to kill Ben. He stopped himself.

And this version of the event?

This didn’t happen.

What Kylo tells Rey is his version of the story. And he thinks he’s telling the truth... but his recollection of the event is warped as this was obviously a very traumatic event for him.

"I don't think he's lying actually. In my mind, that was his experience. [...] I think that it's probably twisted a little bit by Kylo's own anger and his own prejudices against Luke, but I feel like he's actually telling her the truth of his experience." - Rian Johnson, Star Wars: The Last Jedi commentary, 2017

The narrative frames the third version of the story as the one that’s objectively how events went down. Because Rey believes him, and Rey is both the protagonist and a stand-in for the audience.

Now, if you think Luke’s word is unreliable and you have an easier time trusting Kylo’s version of the story, go to town.

But I think that if you actually believe would Luke would never try to kill Ben, you’d take Luke's second retelling of the story at face value.

I know I do.

“Okay, but he would never consider killing a child, like Ben. He saw the good in Darth Vader!”

First off, Luke refers to Ben as "a scared boy" because, he's a middle-aged man. But objectively, Ben was 23 years old.

But also, I mean... with Vader, Luke actually had the luxury ignorance.

Do you think would have truly gone on that Second Death Star if he had actually witnessed Vader:

choke his Padmé,

kill Obi-Wan,

actively try to kill Ahsoka,

murder Jedi younglings,

betray and hunt down his other Jedi brothers and sisters,

and cold-bloodedly kill countless innocents, one by one?

There’s a difference between watching him kill Ben Kenobi (who still ‘lived’ as a ghost and talked to him seconds later) and hearing a couple of rebel pilots get blasted in the trench run, and actually seeing all the horrors he’s committed.

Don't get me wrong, Luke knows Vader is evil, absolutely. But if he had seen this side of Vader, the needlessly cruel side...

... I'm not sure he'd have been as compassionate.

Proof: Obi-Wan, someone who deeply loved Anakin (to the point where he could never bring himself to kill him), someone that genuinely wishes that Luke can redeem him... also feels that, realistically, attempting to do so would be pointless.

And hell, even without really seeing all the massacres Vader committed, the second the latter threatened his sister, Luke went berserk and almost killed him!

So the question becomes:

“What could make Luke - trained Jedi Master, long-time optimist and overall compassionate to a fault - consider killing Ben?”

All we’re told is that he looked into Ben’s mind and saw darkness and the destruction, pain, death, and the end of everything he loves.

The specifics are left to our imagination. They could include:

the sight of Kylo slaughtering his parents and Chewie with a smile on his blood-smeared face,

the smell of Han's burning flesh in the air,

the wails of Chewbacca as he's run through by Kylo,

the faint sound of Leia's tears hitting the ground,

the destruction of the New Republic's citizens and planets.

Whatever it may have been, it was intense. Because Force-induced visions are vivid as hell, as has been shown throughout the franchise.

It's not like watching something on a TV, you're there, all your senses are affected in an extremely powerful way.

And the vision Luke experienced scared him so much that even shortly after it, when looking at a sleeping young man, all he sees is that evil monster from the vision. So he tremblingly draws his saber.

But it's evident that Luke wasn't thinking clearly or rationally.

His base emotions had taken the wheel, he was being tempted by the Dark Side.

"He doesn’t give in to the Dark Side, it’s a moment of temptation to the Dark Side. It reminds me very much of when Vader is tempting Luke, when Luke is underneath the stairs in [Return of the] Jedi, lit with that very beautiful half-and-half, the duality of these two sides of him being pulled. And that’s really what that moment is for me, it’s a moment of temptation to the Dark Side for Luke." - Rian Johnson, IGN, 2017

And yet despite seeing all that... Luke catches himself.

It's not the first time that Luke almost does something horrible to a family member and catches himself. Again, 24 years prior, he almost murdered his own father in a fit of rage.

The scene in Ben's hut intentionally parallels that outburst he has in Return of the Jedi.

A terrible future is presented before Luke.

He reacts instinctively, is tempted by the Dark Side.

He snaps out of it.

Even the angle and framing of the shot is designed to match:

tumblr_video

"Some of these parallels are just “it’s a close-up of the same character” but this one was very intentional. It’s why I had him look down at his mechanical hand holding the saber." - Rian Johnson, Twitter, 2019

The only real difference is that, in Return of the Jedi, Luke only comes to his senses after a frenzied onslaught during which he actively tried to kill his own Dad.

24 years later, despite having witnessed that terrible future even more vividly than he did on the Second Death Star, he catches himself merely seconds later. Instead of going on a whole rampage, he stops the moment the lightsaber turns on.

I'd call that "progress".

"But Luke should've learned his lesson and known better than to give in to the Dark Side!"

Resisting the temptation of the Dark Side is by no means a one-and-done thing. It's not a power-up that you get, it's a constant struggle.

"I think it disrespects the character of Luke by treating him not as a true mythic hero overcoming recurring wounds & flaws, but as a video game character who has achieved a binary, permanent power-up." - Rian Johnson, Twitter, 2019

Dave Filoni says so too.

"In the end, it’s about fundamentally becoming selfless, moreso than selfish. It seems so simple, but it’s so hard to do. And when you’re tempted by the dark side, you don’t overcome it once in life and then you’re good. It’s a constant." - Dave Filoni, Rebels Remembered, 2019

Hell, even George Lucas stated something along those lines:

"The Sith practice the dark side and are way out of balance. The Jedi aren’t as much out of balance because they’re the light side of the Force. They still have the bad side of the Force in them, but they keep it in check. It’s always there, so it can always erupt if you let your guard down." - George Lucas, The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005, 2020

Learning the lesson once doesn't mean you've learned it forever. Especially with the Dark Side, which poses a never-ending battle.

In-universe examples: Anakin learned to let go of his attachments during the “Padawan Lost” arc of TCW.

A year and a half later, he’s butchering kids because he can’t let go of his attachments.

And during wartime, Yoda found himself repressing his darker instincts and ignoring their existence. Thus, when he had to face them, he struggled to acknowledge and control them.

So considering Luke didn't go "rampage mode" with Ben, as he did when he tried to kill Vader, I think he deserves some credit.

Finally, I've heard this insane argument many times, as a response to the above points:

"Yeah but Luke wasn't actually trying to kill Vader! He was holding back, he was trying to keep him alive!"

And, uh... no. He wasn't.

He lost his shit, folks. And almost killed Vader.

Like, right here?

⬆️ If Vader hadn’t moved his saber to intercept Luke’s blade, Luke would’ve stabbed Vader in the face.

⬆️ If Vader hadn’t held his sword up in time, SWISH, there goes the top of his helmet AT LEAST, if not the rest of his head.

⬆️ If Vader hadn’t dodged he’d be chopped in two.

⬆️ If Vader’s arm gave out slightly sooner, if his blade faltered just a little lower, if he loosened his grip on his saber a bit, Vader would be cleaved in two.

My point is that if you swing at someone with a lightsaber? They’ll get chopped. And if you aim for the head or the chest? You’re trying to kill them.

Before Luke got a grip, throughout that whole rampage, the only thing that kept Vader alive was his own skill.

Otherwise, Luke would’ve murdered him in a fit of rage.

If Luke was holding back, then the theme of "resisting the Dark Side" completely falls apart.

There's no indication that he was restraining himself, in he script.

And just look at the imagery.

Luke is surrounded by darkness, symbolizing how he's being seduced by the Dark Side, he's being tempted to give in to his anger towards the man who hurt his friends and took his hand.

Then Vader threatens Leia.

And the next time we see Luke, he's silhouetted, his face is all black.

Luke was originally trying to hold back and talk Vader down, but fails to control his instincts and gives in to fear, to anger, to the Dark Side... and goes all out.

He swings at his father furiously and keeps swinging, until he cuts off Vader's hand... and he is about to deliver the final blow…

… when he sees Vader’s mechanical hand and realizes that by giving in to his anger, that path will inevitably lead him to become exactly like this half-machine half-man laying at his feet. That’s where the path to power leads.

And so he makes a decision:

He’s a Jedi. Like his father before him. His compassion for Anakin is stronger than his hate for Vader.

That's the narrative intent.

It has to be.

Because if he had been "holding back" throughout that entire bit, then the stakes are lowered immeasurably, John Williams' saddening score is misplaced, the lightsaber choreography is misleading, etc.

For the above-listed reasons, I think Luke's portrayal in The Last Jedi doesn't really contradict anything in the previously-established lore. It works, it's the typical "old cowboy needs to get back in the saddle" trope. Frankly, I can defend this subject all day long... so where's the problem?

The problem comes in at an out-of-universe level. While it's not inconsistent... it's also not satisfying.

The thing is, if you...

... take one of the most brave and optimistic characters in the franchise, then open the film saying "well, now he's jaded and in hiding", without giving us context on how he became that way...

... take a character whose arc was specifically about controlling his emotions, then show him be ruled by those emotions without providing context for what made him do that...

... then that kills the suspension of disbelief, for a lot of fans.

And, as such, they'll have a much harder time going along with what you're saying.

Because "show, don't tell" is one of the most basic principles in visual storytelling. And we weren't shown:

"Ben being increasingly violent during training",

"Luke sitting Ben down and having a talk with him, only to be ignored" or

"the horrors Luke saw in Ben's head".

I have no doubt that those things happened, in-universe.

But if we're talking about a movie-going experience, many were left emotionally-unsatisfied.

Because all that stuff was in there... but only subtextually. It was up to the fans to imagine on the details. Normally, I'd argue that's what Star Wars is all about: allowing fans to dream and think outside the box. But in this specific case, I think many fans would've rather had a more complete and explicit story. Because it's Luke Skywalker.

And yet... even these structural and writing issues had a logic behind them, and if you ask me... there was no other direction that this story could be taken in.

We'll explore this in more detail in part 2/2.

#Luke Skywalker #The Last Jedi #Rian Johnson #Star Wars episode VIII #star wars #jedi order #meta #long post #Ahch-To #in defense of the jedi #episode 8 #Ben Solo #Kylo Ren #Mark Hamill #star wars sequel trilogy

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libidomechanica · 1 year

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But once everything ensuing

A rispetto sequence

Not because thou a nymph! Their verdure still he slept. Blood which she turn’d her wrist; it shall seize thee; but view of her fair in the flood-gates breaks asunder; and calling like a space opens where shall be a Hand to the moon and I have been! By complete, and they enclos’d the threshold?—Answer all, the bottom will I strew sweet! What pipes and muttered like a tempting freedom passion!

And so he groan’d, as if another and each line by line, the game you played, my feete are turn’d when you read again, and tis your hands trembling to the women you drink tears, and sunk my fill. Lo, this young man, is thine own, and self-loving and oath and there this sweet as an empty Coca- Cola can again; so, at his tamed the church up fine and even Road, and die, but lo!

More wilder’d of respect, that we recall more secure, the flocks, and eternal oaths and naught thy footing of my hairs; if he should say,—who went and speech: Ah! Soothing else to the fingers, how can you yourself say: go with the cavern, ’mid the dark—till breath will mingled with. Yet I am pretty flowery angel-brood, lilies grow. Poet, Singer, though seen of roses.

By a doubled; for me too drowsily, and on his left. Plain spake fairy-thing, twelve-fingered, out of recover. My love, I am all that I can euer take in the heat more from yours, with such a park; no dog shall grove, whose wonted lily white anger of her fair crown my love destroyeth. Forgiveness the charm: appealing groans, for Dian play: dissolve, or some grass by night.

Love to look her way; think I may resume; and nations—swith awa’! The sacrifice. I have seen you talk of all his soul fiends: come not think they’re the wayward boy; to note the air, or lion proud, adonis lies; pure shadowe of a kiss. The shepheards boyes your hearts to see, being shut, till, who is but to keep the simple semblance he bends towards her, and very first bud?

Shut softly up alive. Now is she with all these the constant woe, as striped, and all in verse, tis to love, against the fan be found. The Daughter. This mutiny each other’s finger; to the crowd—your paine. The dire imagine, shrieks, tis thy voice—I feel as if they two are in my arm that xylem thickette, and save his dangerous speed: and stories, his little to till?

Nor Dog Star so inflame the rewards of coming. But to rob him of his weapon in that we are. Bringing face? Was he none my hurtlesse sheep are going home, an English their copious stole, with either of our paine, make verbal repetition of people to lead the grass, yet from mine eyes, a stinger as I knew, although the pinions; make more! Come, reap thy right: lo!

To love in her again, as all marrow drain’d. All suddenly from the sky, yet, I will in my Ear till I strew sweet consent, will in a twilight. The bride kiss’d them. Unruly, the heau’ns course! Thou, whose swiftest kisses drew favour froward infant’s head, an image dies with unaccustomed head spotlit. Whose flame to wand’ring mowers shows me where the charm to breath will bind thee!

And in her bosom try what prison of flesh and books and heavy dream: the goal yet, day by day, until he noticed me, if I should thence shakes her arms devout kiss,—even to doubt, ceasing pains resist: curst be the gude red gowd, but stole his cheek, and bare shew cold through the glow-worms shine own heart! Of him, part, that frown aside, These discovery of her breast lie down one sweet maid!

I should fondly they knew not whither doth scoure. Rested not, nor mix’d the leaders to this Cave of the raging fyre, that kind of beast, by Aurora’s peering missives back&forth ask me why this crystal roof by fishes’ tails. Gude, and co-inheritance of the night and speak not one drop to lightsome heard not: there was not in innocent! The bride’s father till Gregory.

I know those fault much as words reach’d the fly rejoice, that like Solitude, where palace floor, and all its ropes relenteth: art thou overcome by night. Within my murmur about the eye can wanderings, rinds and wide there was not in silence: then his rome, where they, where that reeves his sheep-track’s maze the viewing? Being proud, as females are, to strike him, I heard, there was by him.

The best their ghastlie Owle her give me. I cease to eat, but tell of me and cool ye all whole lives is holy word ought a fingers, how can you yourself in spleenful unicorn. You hurt my hand—had grasp’d these musks, the loud pursue this is the loving and going, of drinking, doth heard melodies are on the diamond fine; mine was fairy though Amphion’s harlot here I know.

In shade the more frequent that to you despite the trellis and trace love’s latest moan; bearable: pennies sewn into the nuns! Life, as if we shouldst thou feel in the body within ye hear the while amid the leaders tore my virgin knowing, and singing us all follow whither running house, trash, such a den to save this tangled wonderment. To thy native home.

She will flinging verdure stillitory of ourselves? But do thy life akin, came salutary as I work, sit on a bank, and through the wind; in wing’d exulting for to a cypress that on their poor brother’s bed, and bless they lose the morn she look of the Troop a Sháhzemán, by Name and amethyst, puzzled those power, with grains the cliffs where dwells at dewy bed!

A bell to the coachman that start from my Head! Then it shall get, the smiles; delight, nor thine,—though she gaz’d—she redden’d like a vast sponge of love vast and gray yearning the heaven shall do and we went to sit beneath his shadowy wooer from her twining me, his lips; and grasshopper its pipe gives scope, being spright, fainted alligators, crocodiles, beguile the brook their tasks.

Locks kept his ivy tent, onward kept; wooing the heard the world wide sits mute and coverts innermost I wink, the wealth hast thou my nurse; and the mellow ripe: my haruest hear. Man’s sire could grant in a dreamless sleep. The other gaz’d, infusing through his majesty of Doris, and joined be to our convent’s friend! Knew the hot tyranny. As was that was born in Bethlam?

Down over hips, the sky. Tell thee of a blasting fresh variety; ten kisses he had a sudden she saith, since I have given me a thing it subject and hereupon he bows his head upon that bright team gulphs in the atmosphere ’twas in the forest grass a not to be glad: o feel as if another. Ripe from me, after many times upon our sad fate.

Anthem still: anon their full-veined ears, nostril, dark as a straight now, hip to haunt the eye of the sound. Set in trifles, unwitness of that giant’s arm I’ll be shent, was he now obeys, and bid good night. Julia was careless lake, on which we cannot get; she bathes my fears no tide shall ever strive to the sheepe and clouds and frenzies wood, the tiger would be thy bosom?

Hope from this moments few, a tempering gentle Carian! Somewhere or other kiss though mounted— robed in a cloudless sky—but on her peering upon the months, then go, see something up, and puts out gratitude, as the horizon’s breasts, save of time, leans away from thee modest pride; when ladies leave thee of the sleep to warble something out carnival, and some remorse!

To die in the morning, listen and that white a friend, sweet sleeps alone. And put them like an earth; great God who late though she gaz’d, infusing the strange, for lovers, which is, of courser, gentle soul! Oh, Mary, canst prevailing on his Hoard of mercy? But I said, and I can say; mend yet it mantle rosy-warm with those power to smell, comparing in wait whole of love.

The moon-beam dwells upon my Nancy, I thoughts of the Sheikh replied, dost thou; and in hand read again for A’s and B’s, and witlesse Colin cloute, that reigned tears, as in the little higher summon us to her lips; a thousand Powers keep religion? Being tied unto it: if many worlds of life are here! Eternal chains to bind thee: in others and a whittle!

Your beauty hath not journey in a moment listen’d! For I no more where he sleeping kind. Till God release them—sometimes do and so I can find my mind hath shee vanish’d far away. This may sound I seal. That wadna open the poplar tops, in journey dreary, had rear’d my heart more nearly. From kissing hounds mistakes, the birds, deceive those Letters from the human kiss!

Ay me, ’ quoth she, hast thou dost love here his weary slave of the Bear how fiercely like the hunted, the turtle hiding in Sant’ Ambrogio’s! Was his destiny! And if that must die; we might with such a love lights! Like an aspen-bough, and in his eyes petitioners to his inward glances light, and south, and drown they burn too, I’ll love, by some unlook’d upon push’d, and pain.

When you returning for foul hypocrite modest pride; when lo, foot-feathers to their operation of the place, interpret God to all displaid. A Road whose shadow we had made. So sure I? Fair town’s faces on me, for mournful freight. Play with homage to the earth, and distance play, there keen Indignation gave a dizzier pain and again. Come, whatever he may still.

Suffer thy fair immortal river. And yet hath treble wrong; I did refrain because thou should task you to prayers had lost in pleasure past, and to sheltering wynd. Young love. Now let me be by thy beauty and naught. Only I pray, since her beak on feather’d Mercury appears a pretty sure took, the marchings up, my scathing has gone, and the brow of some poor kiss?

Unless you worse of Christ whose silver through the distant troubled his old love her, but ah! When a painted in such weeping in thyself rejected, steal thyself ascribe, unduly, things to yellow-green, and you go the womb—it is most too blame; what Weakness numbs each place to whom king of the eternity, promising wonder under-passions, franticly she rushes.

(Which you needs fight brings me to the bee form cells? I will stay to honor thy most hidden weapons had never kiss the flow’r in May, her smiles as uninvolved as warm her nose, he strip mall, I put on your sweet as the river stay’d his wand against the churchyard licks us. It makes me mad that never sought nor what gelid fountains rise, so he groan’d, as these blue-vein’d violet?

And not believe me, and turn its last leaves among, thin mane, thick branches sit, chirping mirth! Your business is to judge in euery part of heaven, far remove. Her dawning lover, I must not speak, stray lower, was tender joys beside— nor ears, that heart whose tedious, and waters: ’tis pearly goddess, in a man, more wilderness, whose fresh remain, in mid air, and turbans.

And to her meek surprise, how that I could not be: she hath killed him to fall: that will. The Mower Damon, known through they foster-child of night, and said; her hair.—Then she, still is he surround her by the Hilt, catch a glances let me feel their homely fare, my grief to wet his weary legs doth swell; no, child of such a gullet’s grow which to flatt’ry so listened all that same voice?

And sting, that you on the rears up-prick’d; his breast; and thee. For to quench the lattices, beside it, sparkle in heaven! Last Love, you needs must not a sound, struggling songs did lere. I was a cotter, play’d me sic a trick, an’ me the branch, dark as the brain into a peaceful hour doth transmit a scent that verily ’tis well as mine, and yet must be for that is cold region?

Laughing, I will wink; so shall pay this twilight, could dance: no woods will richly pleasurings there far away. This page, till well-nigh won into the lovely April rain, and all together. She answer all, though shadow wailing on thy fair eyes are in a gaol of snow, despite its bright essence! Fresh beauty,—that is being prison fly: or give maidens in my soft Angel!

Being prison’d in his fair goddess, stay! Are they view the haggard in war, have drunk my head is in the green, nor all whole corn-fields divine: innumerable mountain-top—the voice? Thou twin’d me rounds, and point, and honours skie: whose swift flight, or depth, or skin, or break me again. All are but a swallows down; then glut thy steed—my goblet, dances soft: and, with white as ocean?

Believe, believe me, and jest; for me? Her love; and the throne of emerald. Take heede then go, see something without really bringing. To die, or be by phantasms. Some might lamenting; thy mermaid o’ the gleams, and pain. Dismiss your head— mine’s sharpest pangs her window stood. Pennies sewn into a narrow every soldier, with the gleams of death’s foot. If her darling daffodils.

More endymion said, how thus lorn to die! A simple semblance he stops his lips do smile recures they were the gentle shepheards all, which by the eyes are green, and birds, how calm and peacefull’st cot, they had not see one who long to be made. He hath she hath sung, with leaden awe these poor struggling soul in age appear’d, and stories he fed them with mine, to lead the mild! Time.

Within my arm that xylem thicket hid I curse thee dear; no, the whale worship thy dewy flowers, little harm, thine eyes’ full gaze, and all are going I shall shine upon, wondered at? The drops fra my yellow leaf drifting to light, if I so choose but know, my heart, and air, bidding adieu; and, silent pillow to thy bower windy night or day to one who looked black.

Breath, speech t’ engarland so, that it is with nectar mist: curst be the cross sees only those are through frozen purity; and yet I stack by him. Twas refreshing decrepit age to that goes he. What pipes and find a clear demonstration with its simply black and root, the whisk’d again. Scorn of our branches play. And sea, clean out of our bird-throated mother breast the sand?

She came down I’ll madly sweep on forked light and dark, no sonne now she went into a narrow circle and feels uncondition. Poor flower o’ the lot. Lo’e thee not, when they spoke the golden bow, can mingle music came to lie in cavern rude, keeping she is restlesse pleasant words:-but Love excuse, nor who them both which I bring, and lead and bark. On my breast the expanse?

Gone a smile as they had all beauty dwells unmitigated, still the night; for in you, not life, as it will surely that have done, yet mayst return to me. Banker, father till Gregory! Sweet angel waiting in to thee clime the loves but mend their daughters or sword and King of the fairest maids should see her gentle spring up a lower, much I fear! Tis but a kiss.

And stole so near, that place in thy curious frame: the head, dumbly she gave in finishing, and yet it mantle in twain. Admire how crystal- smooth that doubt’s pain cry, Speak once more authority. ’ Pride, three April rain, and make their jewel- sceptre, that be Love, as strong. Its head; the evening’s plain with fright thy soft hand, as when the decoys, the coil of seamen, and was at my fears.

’St me; and not bent towards her pale like a red more she sinks, touching with his woven girths he breast-plates large, so large, as bright portal, life were but born just as the horrible thunder; even so doth the pleasant words and a nose that did feed her shrinking with disturbed mind, and loathed Paddocks lording on the sea breathe ten hundred touches me more Prayer a-going! One touch.

Thirty-two and a chin but thou art thy mortal body doth transmit a scent that did feed her for escape writing world, and search’d—and found her give things, their forehead sitteth, and in a bar-room around to be so phantasm! Warm pulses, and joined legs and past are cloudlets, glittered by me; uncouple at the field. Athwart the stress of visionary seas! In some brake.

Who, through some day. Nor let me in it: in thine eyes’ shrewd tutor, that those souls refin’d, can make amends. Her shall Stellas rayes, reason, thou dost lord my head a-dangle by the rivulet on fast to catch me at, in pure love I print my poetry, I most hidden weapons lay, glad if for his countless in war, have wasted, he likeliest friend, because thou art of these?

Charlotte such a place; dusk for our sport, and turn’d him to blessed than doves or roses; and griefs and while I stumbled that I live, the mountains,—thine illuminings and set thy leisure, one by beating palm, the lovely mistress, mountains! Of underwood, and soon bereaves, and Tellus feels more if east or western skies; so every ill: the marble was like a vapour front door.

That xylem thicket interpos’d to day: her two blue wrapp’d up his hand on him? Here Jack and whisper’d the knight thy fairest flowers all, the Monarch of park still onward; still my friendly sigh for his holy priest, lead’st thou but thy stories, his triumphs, and Musgraves, and faith released from isolation betide as that for powers expanding by. His testy master!

And childhood will not mind the rest of flower blushing to that today is my days: and, hearing; thy mermaid’s voice of sun burned like Chianti wine! To drive to troubles how he intent, that the most worth the roots of Sicily: to northern grot, while, and who will fall.—A dozen knots, there he comes break. Field, his tent my bedde, the morning’s plain and again, be it not set down.

But now of death’s neighbour caves, as if impell’d. And still I blest with those holy groves, meadow’s face seems to owe naught. And look not bitterness. His mouldering at the tocher-gude I prize, there never to removed! Friend? Into these beautiful! Older and all we meet at any times since he himself is reft from thee; and now she beaty and red each other wars, beside!

Love had rear’d my middle gardens fully show all through the days. To teach strangeness, now I all that Hope is love: the steam, as on a precipitous path, as if perchance, and tent their bills would brooke somwhat thy Sister fair eyes and proud, because his nostrils drink out the fountains to craze, be thy breast: look in the grasshoppers seek out the deeper than Rome in the phantoms duped.

My haruest heart as kind, a heart in the wide stream, commands mine eye, high Poet! The banks of Earn, as lighted by shadow in the power overshadows the fish in my heart sae fu’ o’ wae! With either will I to children out of our paine, make war upon the wind and wade mouth. Shall attended do burn too, I’ll love’s latest flake of Eternity: Cold Pastoral!

Years, that I fall in vain to unsettle and he kiss her arms doth anew begin. Of Iris, when the dear love, her rash suspect sile doth change! Is thine: see how I plot to my own master, shall see my future days to her Deare, that I do hold a rod over her smile. Mirrored in this twilight be, to lead the lass of Lochroyan, come to part in the raingear with thee.

My body is, and lantern—for the real rain, clinging us all, a creeping in Heaven, down Adonis with kissed him bore, prone to obtain; tis a causeless stoops to pardon me, I felt a kindness of a more detain him; the porter at the frozen but died away in easy death. If he did so breathless fairies take me of murdrer now on thy cold sward.

Since breake more authority. Of her miss; what’s best, a bell to chide, thy heart was gone. I said, king of the sound of Darkness! To mark is feeble, cramp’d, and like the Prior, turn his litter orange, are dight by the bank. Wilt thou break through thy honour’s part; nay, do not grieves. Attended doth make her fair delight, the clock thee for through the time it leaves of yore: aye, hadst better them.

My eyes caught his sluggish and born of tears, and just it thee. Thou know your courts of the syrens, and soon her babe, ringed by a bowery flowers, and whifts of wild conjecturing: to him. The only like taper silver breast with heard a lyre, and hang my pype vpon this globe—few, who weeps not; she cannot fade, the languisheth in heaven to the thought all who fry in your hair.

That you doe committeth. They shoulders, enough, no bower doth extenuate; tells her, and through the glove unto my mind, and in hand with silver shining swarm will both jump back, feigning to look three weeks, I disown ye! Since, seldom coming Soldiery, suddenly he woke as from upper life thou hast on foot these beguile: the fun hard by Saint Laurence, hail fellowship.

Green altar, O mysteries; love is stopp’d not fear; the sun was never more. I stack by him intendments breath of the ruby-colour’d face had ta’en out. And amazes; being had, to see; and this head a-dangle by the tempest of your bliss—my strange, her country lass: a charmed Amphion-oak she tripped by the rills of crime, long after yoursell nor dare we two, contented?

And elephant appears a pretty you came not with black wing. Or I’d enter in, to fill veil’d Melancholy countless silken twine. A Hand to lack her silver name incessantly to lone slumberous ease: long dishevell’d hair, na langer dwelling-place, the name of purple noon’s transparent might reade those holy groves, meadow’s form form happy in being colder.

Because I lov’d remembered you will forget. ’ And will not in her lips; a thousand timbrels? The entire love to the deepest groans of ambitious for the light the Stab of He is not to blame?—Who went away. That thou encounterpane and purple mist around that thou soone might’st helpe, most guiltlesse sheep-fold, before him —Farewell, and lines of dewe, yet dewed with fish.

Thy bosom heave tumultuous Shout of Soldiery, suddenly a warm of his secrets struck from a learned how silence, and myself to this natural sphere, but starv’d and baskets of bright things nothing save the hearse. Forth the crimes of her neste: howe haue I wearied with that were throng her sovran shrine. Me, dear brothers’ works her lips so overlaid will take counsel of the sea?

And in her back her sight. See, through the tempest’s lour; and ne’er to wake more I saw the prison me. Till he take the sudden, they thinly places of ryper reason: and neighs aloud in human hand; gold vase emboss’d with some steep mossy hill, who is lodging with the sky which is self-love, to love? Chirping loud and catch the dropt towards there anguish does not so fair, and in awe.

I feel as if it came a nearer to them. And bristly pikes, these beguile: the low. Keeps warm her not. For let me passive air such odour then I tune myself at strife to usher back doth little maiden prime. Gives the shepherd peres somedele ybent to my memorial on the shapes, and now his green together mine! English their backs, in files, plump its wings.

So shy, grave, letting go of some pleasant fountain to silence.—Who sat her finger; to the sails thee, O Latmian! I lovèd Theotormon’s Eagles at her ail might seem a cuckoo-strain comes the Florentines, saint John, because there anguish theeues do rob, but with dew at ooze from my heart bleed, and in the Promethean clay by thief endued, by old Rhadamant will answer so.

And art the sweeter far than all the womb—it is barr’d the possest, but feed thee of a misty hill. The fire, pull’d down freedom passionately spies the foul face of the slight to hang over Endymion, with his sheep: and never four; would let me say good old gossips waiting to creep for the door your care. And you’ll find, happy to have a tongue was tint, her voice—divinest!

And morn are both of the other sadly sighs. Awhile forget them still may love her aspect another four sunset, sir, when swift as fair. What kindled at his wings, the earth, or skin, or break the sonne and singe our gold and rumbled down a precious symphonies, like the heaven of generous load. Fresh crush me; let me live, drawn by your own sweet, like stones of the daisy tips?

For sharply he did follow thou canst, and such as words obay; whom men love were born was before there are mine, each line by line, these forest troth, A lover down a toying with dearth of our immortal things we have been an unobserved steals unto her; she answer me; is any Blessing: Mark me! That heifer lowing on the shepherds is forgot thee, O Latmian!

Maud has a garment shape me— ever removed. Nor Loves Crowne, all blisse which wel could not his cheeks, tears of her breathe butter. Commanded buds; insults with the slow motion, up shall range these maladies but in her e’e, as Robie tauld a tale o’ love within; for her smooth semilucent mist, diversely ting’d with silver-clear, whom men love’s flow,—no, nor thou shalt have to go.

Then their mountains, breast, over crisp hairs, that I can those blood being tam’d with fright, and yet, because Adonis slain. Till Gregory come True. The dark blue window be, it is not pure thee now a spirit-home! Yes, in my arbour rosary of respect, that they are alive; if thou not aided me? Brother Lorenzo stands now past the flowers, thus long have drunk my fill.

—Come hame, and you still concludes in woe! Alone; at his rightful throne, to which to his house fall to my heart, if he would survive, in hand with many are you, a woman, and she in a rage: we get on from hiding-place, because he knew was present sorrow or joy? No revenge upon he bade my heart can be fynd, and so indeed, that heart ’gan warm with the brook the soul!

Till now. I plung’d for life on thy fatherless, and lost huge sea-marks; vanward strangely: but when that smiles, her wit, her object that hard heart was gone, and chirping loud as when the sun, where these? Is slain: he tries them so handsome, whatever heart beat her, to alight took its wings. Its halved pit in water, beside it, and the minutest fish would melt at the crown of China brought.

—We sing, and never to thy head: heavy heart’s end and this head to every isle, and make them within a Mirtle Tree, giving to embers from his murder in and crystal circlings white and bower, and forehead, when thou hast smil’d. Hotter them. Even thou art dead; strong-neck’d steel his strong and point from eve to morn arose, her lamentation upon the shimmer of evil?

We dance at our heart from heaven’s blue: yet this: that’s sailing on the cold stuffe a flegmatike delight.—And went swifter than an unswept street. But none as I. He held him; till the birds, deceive those maidenheid, right have cast out, in shone a new magnificent, aw’d from whom thy diadem, out-sparkling suddenly a warm of his weary legs doth among summer head.

And pay our piety to Neptune’s feet, and driver, silver, or I’m caught in laps of adamanthus’ tongue-tied than Endymion, ’tis past, there, haps on his hurt she left both bare and targe; rudders that be. This fury whetting Sun I mix, and, hearing and muttered by my own life be a boar, that thus express, to cross the fire? Text is old, the trees, a little children?

Dull and lamb. Our then is inside, from vermeil lips? Poet, Singer, Necromance, but the wonder, are like, both in thy vision went: henceforth to a mouth undaunted wiping—oh Khalífah laugh’d, and lull thee best. From coverture for clamorous flying hare, or at the sea love is stifled they last, the old womb of night and dance, and the little more like this pious morn?

If I lose both riotous and hills be dry, stray amang the old grave we played, my brother willeth; her lips obey, paying what? And many, and strange excuse thy cunning him to bleed and poise about to speak to each, against his feet; save when thou declare all the desperation, and then, when he scantly lifted his plump white and said a word. Dread water seene, or mine.

From too thin breath of him, I must spread of night after other four; would peep; the winter vittle; fient haet he had no powre to stands on the gray beginning, but unthrifts! Or veer or vanisht by so nere, in sadness, now I am come, my love, panting oblivion, he saith she had not fear; it shall be thy hand, grasping than your ears, tears shed on all that Hope adore!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #171 texts #rispetto sequence

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ephemeralgalaxies · 2 years

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ok ok so, hear me out.

(forgive me for the long meta post, I forgot how to do the cut line on mobile)

That scene in ep10 of OFMD when Stede is drunk and shows up to Mary's art show and says "If I can give up the sea for her, she can give up the false title?"

Now— alright. Mary has created a life where she's happy, she even said so herself. She's happy with money and kids and a good man that supports her and loves her. She doesn't want to "give it up" like Stede did. She doesn't want to let go of this life she loves, because it's hers and she made it all on her own. She suffered with Stede, as did he with her. They didn't fit; ofc not. She wants a life where she does "fit in this world," as Stede put it.

But Stede doesn't fit in any worlds now. he's not the aristocratic Fine Dinning man or the "lily-livered" baby Bonnet. He's not very well a pirate, in technical terms, since he officially works for the British government. He doesn't fit with Ed because he's gone — Ed let the last piece of himself go with that red silk cloth (the reminder of status and promise of hope).

Stede had to give it all up because, in his mind, he had only hurt the people he was supposed to protect and care about. He left Mary alone, he abandoned his kids, he took away Blackbeard's name and power. He doesn't believe he deserves to be "happy," but rather that he's taken his journey of spontaneity and risk and now it's time to fix what he broke. No more chances, no more hiding behind names and excitable words. Plain and simple, "I gave up the sea." He's not happy, and now everyone knows. He doesn't love Mary, she doesn't love him. They don't want this life. But he thinks, that's the way it has to be, because he can protect her and give her the life that they were told to have. He can be a father for his kids.

But he can't play pirate anymore. The Gentleman Pirate died with Babington's brother. That scream so piercing and terrified, the pure loss of self. He's not gasping and whimpering like in ep1 anymore — this isn't a comedy now. He screams — shrieks, wails — eyes wide and wild. He can't go on like this, death and misfortune following him like a Series of Unfortunate Events stripping away every thing he had been handed.

He can't let Edward stay with him like this, not this broken shell of a man pretending to be a pirate. He wants adventure and the sea, not this violence.

But then—

the art show. Mary. Doug trying to comfort him and ease him. Stede throwing him onto the table and holding the knife to him. "Unhand me or bleed."

Mary is happy, the kids are happy, Ed is probably happy. He's alone.

He's broken.

The family portrait where he's been painted over into nothing but a shadow — "a ghost." The realization that maybe he never did belonged here.

That his dreams were a lighthouse and he crashed on the rocks. That maybe he is the lighthouse and didn't warn them in time to steer clear of him.

That he loves Ed, truly and dearly. "He's absolutely lovely." He wants nothing more than to be with him, to sail forever with him on the open sea. To light a fire in the captain's quarters on the colder days. To read fairytales under the moonlight to their misfit found family of pirates. To perform a good Fuckery. To be as free as Mary, as Ed would be without him.

But maybe... Maybe he doesn't need to be away from Ed. Maybe, now that he might finally — for once in his life — actually understand himself, he can be happy. Because Ed loves him, he knows this. He makes Ed happy... So if Stede didn't break Mary and their kids by leaving, why does Ed have to be broken just because he's willing to give up the life he's carved and risen so that Stede could live? If Stede could give up the sea and be miserable so that everyone else may have the lives they deserve, "why can't [Ed]?" Why can't he choose the same fate for love? Why can't he sacrifice everything Stede thought was important to Ed? Why did it have to be either or?

And so it clicks. Ed just loves Stede. Plain and simple, he gave it up. "You don't have to do this." "Yeah, I know I don't." Because Ed wanted to. And that was the difference, he wanted to give it up anyways, at least a part of it. Stede didn't want to go back, he was a ghost there.

Now, Ed had escaped. Stede could escape. They could get away from the names and reputations and just live on the sea with their crew and cherrywood-masted ship.

It's time to repair what he really broke.

#mary bonnet #meta #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #ed teach #our flag means death spoilers #ofmd #edward x stede #gentlebeard #blackbonnet

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steves-strapcollection · 4 years

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On Tragedy vs. Bad Endings

[Image ID: user @frostyfrogz replied to your post “my mag171 #thots: I fully agree with. I love jonmartin I want nothing but the best for them. I know my answer today was an obvious twisting of dialogue but its just frustrating sometimes because it seems like people dont understand some sort of tragedy will indeed happen. I have never and will never suggest that something will happen to Jon and Martin’s relationship I’ve just been saying the shows not going to end well no matter what.]

So I have a lot of thoughts about this very subject, and too much for the replies on my post, so allow me to try to articulate what I mean, and what a lot of us mean when we say “it does not make sense for either Jon or Martin to turn evil in the end,” even in a show that has been advertised from day one as a tragedy.

First of all, no one thinks this is going to end happy. The few who do are usually unaware that this show is billed as a tragedy, and are quick to be corrected. I didn’t know it was a tragedy until I was on season 3 and someone told me. It’s overall just best to assume that the OP knows it’s not going to be a happy ending, because “reminding” people or “explaining” to people that the ending is going to be sad is a fast way from people to get annoyed and defensive.

Anyway! It appears, above all, that people have either fundamentally different ideas of what a tragedy is or accomplishes, or that people have a fundamentally flawed understanding of tragedy and it’s place as a narrative device/theme.

My thoughts are that tragedies hurt, and tragedies can be devastating, but they have to have a message and they should not be cruel to the audience.

A cruel ending would involve leading the audience to believe one thing for the entire book, show, movie, podcast, what have you, just to rip it away at the last minute like a big “fuck you” to the audience. Those sorts of endings are inherently mocking of the audience, and ultimately disrespectful. The only people in the audience that “benefit” from this sort of writing are the cynics who spent the entire show talking down to everyone for seeing the silver lining in the impending tragedy, even if, up until the finale, the silver lining was always part of the narrative. Like it took actual twisting and outright ignoring of the narrative as it’s written to be cynical and sceptical all the way until the end.

That is, plain and simple, bad writing. Jonny Sims is not a bad writer.

Now tragedies often have “happy endings,” they just also have an element of sadness colouring that ending. A good, tragic ending should, in my opinion, feel bittersweet. We should see it coming, we should know it will hurt, but it should be for the greater good and should further the narrative that has been told from the beginning.

I said a few weeks ago that a tragic ending without a silver lining is just torture porn, and I stand by it.

Now, if Jon or Martin are revealed to be Actually Evil in the end, where is the silver lining in that? What narrative has even possibly hinted at this outcome, without putting on cynic glasses?

Every single plot point and plot “twist” in TMA has been clearly detailed, never relegated to pure subtext that you would have to comb through a single interraction and analyzing the tone in which it was said (which could easily be actor shortcomings or error). They have always been obvious, at least in hindsight. This is why, for a while, I subscribed to the Web!Martin theory, but due to recent episodes I’m more inclined to believe those “obvious things” were red herrings.

Throughout The Magnus Archives, the common theme in every. Single. Season finale is that “we are stronger together.” What do I mean by that? Well, here’s the general idea:

Season 1: The one time someone gets separated by the group for any significant length of time, like I mean the main group, she gets killed by the NotThem and replaced.

Season 2: Jon is alone, due to his intense paranoia and his reluctance to reach out for help. This leads to a disastrous series of events that leaves him a suspect of murder, and his friends even more doubtful of his character.

Season 3: In the episode just before they deal with the Unknowing, Jon literally says that isolation was his downfall, and he was going to work on trusting his friends more. When they got separated during the Unknowing, things went to shit. When they found each other again, they were able to rally and they “succeeded.” Conversely, they are also teamed up with Melanie and Martin who hung back to bring down Elias. They were successful, working as teams on separate objectives, etc.

Season 4: This is, by far, their most “successful” feats while simultaneously their least. The whole season was again showing the downfalls of isolation. In the season finale, Jon has Basira and Daisy’s help, and while bolstering himself with their strength, and the strength in his conviction to save Martin to be with Martin, Jon was successful in stopping Peter Lukas and saving Martin. Conversely, Martin and Jon’s isolation in Scotland could be, theoretically, implicated in how Jonah Magnus was able to succeed in the end like that.

Now evidence of this same train of thought in season 5? Jon literally says it: Gertrude would not have done well in this post-apocalyptic world, because she had no friendships, no anchors, no reason to stay human. And then Jon says “you are my reason” to Martin.

It is in the text of the story that the only way to succeed, or win, or survive, is through trust, friendship, and love. One of the main factors in so many of the statements, on why the statement givers succumbed to the fear in their story, for even a moment, had to do with very little personal ties to anyone else. Many of the statements feature isolation and, as Jon put it, “lack of corroboration.” On the flipside, many of the statements that ended with the statement giver escaping successfully, and surviving long enough to be reached out to for follow-up questions, involved them having close personal ties to someone else that kept them safe, somehow. Like the girl from Italy; remembering her mom saved her from the Lonely. Or, more ridiculously, the guy and his dog that escaped the spiral because he was so distracted by his dog and had to be home for dinner. In MAG170, it was Martin’s love for Jon, and his trust in the love from Jon and his friends, that saved him from the Lonely again. Jon’s incredible amount of love, and respect, and trust in his friends is what’s kept him from becoming another Jared Hopworth or Jude Perry. In MAG155, Cost of Living, he expresses open disgust in how that particular avatar of The End justified her actions, killing and killing and killing again because she viewed herself as more worthy of life than that person. In that same episode, he talks of not blinding himself because he hopes to use his powers to protect his friends, that without them they’re too vulnerable. Honestly, this is the same reason Peter Lukas is unsuccessful, because Martin only helped him at all to protect his friends. The fact that he didn’t see his failure coming was hilarious.

Gerry said in Family Business that there is no “entities of love”, and that might be true, but love and trust is literally what saves you from fear. How many of us deal with things that are scary in our lives, if only because we have some level of trust in the people or things around us. How many of us have been brought out of a panic attack by someone we love and trust?

So all of this has been presented to us, over and over and over again, which is what I, and others, mean when we say “it does not make sense for one of them to be evil.” That’s what we mean when we say “it would be Bad Writing to make one of them evil in the end.” The entire show has driven home the message that we need love, we need personal connections to survive fear. To rip that away from the main characters at the last minute and call it “tragedy” would be a spit in the face of every single listener who took the story at face value, without picking it apart and reading lines out of context. And Jonny Sims and Alex J. Newall have both said they hate lazy writing.

Now, none of the JonMartin fans I follow are deluding themselves to think this show will have a happy ending outside of very self-indulgent fix-it au fanfics.

The way I see this going down is that Jon and Martin will figure out how to put the world back to the way it was, but Jon will not be able to be part of the new world with Martin. That’s the tragedy; that the world gets saved, and Jon helps save it, but he doesn’t get to benefit from his efforts in any way. The tragedy is Jon loves Martin so much, and they deserve their happy ending, but they don’t get it. But, they still saved the world so others can have their happy endings.

Idk about you, but between the “Jon turns evil in the end” and “Jon stays good and sacrifices himself to save the world” endings, only one of them has me in tears right now as I type this out, and it’s not the former.

I’m not against sad endings,I’m against bad endings that punish the audience for having even a bittersweet hope. I’m against sad endings that are just sad for the sake of being sad, with zero pay-off or reason to happen, especially when those endings throw out 5 years of hard work.

And hey, I might just be forced to eat my words in the end, but not before I fly all the way to England and make Jonny Sims eat a knuckle sandwich.

This was a lot longer than I meant for it to be, but I just have a lot of feelings.

#jonmartin #the magnus archives #tma #tma spoilers #THE POWER OF LOVE AND TRUST WILL SAVE THE WORLD #also idk the proper format of like image id's but i didn't want to NOT type out the reply #my mag thots #500 notes

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moipale · 3 years

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hi i loved your quiz, could u post all the possible outcomes? id really like to read through them :)

sure! this ask is referencing this quiz: which of the tma tragedies is yours? in the order in which i wrote them, here are all nine answers:

foils (the tragedy of Jon and Martin) You love, desperately, to the point of destruction. To the point of sacrifice. The tragedy of Jon and Martin—your tragedy—is that you were too entwined. Captain goes down with his ship, or something, and one half of you is the ship (the ones who love you follow) and one half of you is the captain (you follow the ones you love). There exists such a thing as too much loyalty. There exists such a thing as loyal betrayal. It matters not if you were the betrayed or the betrayer—it's about love, in the end. You loved enough to do it. You loved enough to let it happen. buddy cops (the tragedy of Daisy and Basira) I don't listen to The Mountain Goats, but these are the hands, the unlovable ones. You know? Like with the tragedy of Jon and Martin, the tragedy of Basira and Daisy is about loyalty. This kind of loyalty (your kind) is blunt teeth. They can't be wrong. They can't be bad, because if they are then you are, and you can't divorce yourself from them—they are the lot you've thrown yourself in with. They are the lifeline. Or perhaps you are the lifeline and you can see them—your duckling, your better half—puppy-dogging along behind you, bound, and you know this is bad. You know this can't go on. You're also not strong enough to sever things, and they couldn't conceive of it, and so continues your hand-in-hand march toward the inevitable. This kind of tragedy self destructs.

happy endgame (the tragedy of Georgie and Melanie) Yours isn't a bad ending, of course, but it's a bad everything else. Togetherness is all you have in the face of it: of hurt, of the world battering you relentlessly. The worst part of it is is that it's personal. Couldn't it have just been life? Did it really have to be old ghosts of yours, did you really have to care for them? It would be easier if you had no stakes in this, but you do. Threads surround you, too dense to untangle, and you're not even sure you want to be free of them. Sometimes you do. Sometimes you hate them. Often you don't. The tragedy of Melanie and Georgie is something you can't get rid of. This is your tragedy. gone kayaking (the tragedy of Tim Stoker) The tragedy of Tim Stoker. Your tragedy was fitting, of course. Narratively significant, if narrative significance matters in the face of what it was, and what it was was tragedy, pure and true. You are defined by loss. Continuous, despicable loss, of those you love and those you really, really don't, and does it matter which is which? The world is still falling out from under you. The stage is still being set for the revenge tale, and you're not a hateful person, but vengeance is such a sweet word. The bombs going off make such a sweet sound. replacement (the tragedy of Sasha James) [i got this one when i took it!] The tragedy of Sasha James is yours. Yours is an insidious one, and likely you didn't even realize it at first, but eventually you did. Eventually you were nearly the only one to see your plain, unassuming usurping. Individuals better and brighter and more real than you, and you become nothing, unremembered, unknown, eaten. Your accomplishments taken credit for. Your selfhood reduced to nonexistence. mother figure (the tragedy of Gerard Keay) Your tragedy is about trust: the tragedy of Gerard Keay. Parents are supposed to love you. Parents are supposed to keep you safe, but yours didn't and you weren't and they didn't care what bruises you got so long as you did what you were told. Parents are supposed to be outlived, and you did outlive them, but not in the way that was right. You might have trusted them once, before you can remember. And parents—the other kind—are supposed to be good replacements. Parents are supposed to love you the way the first ones couldn't, take care of you the way you should have been, but yours didn't, even when you believed them. You got two flavors of the same person; the only difference on the second go around was that you trusted them right up until the end. And they didn't even have the decency to let you die. ants, fire (the tragedies of Agnes Montague and Jordan Kennedy) Cue the tragedy of Agnes Montague, of Jordan Kennedy, his and hers and yours alike. It's simple, really. It's about agency—it's about every shitty thing that ever happened to you, that you barely dodged, barely scraped your way out of, and still in the end you were caught. And the saving wasn't so much saving as it was taking from you the choice of grabbing onto the rope. Who was to say you wanted to? Who was to say the pit wasn't preferable? (It wasn't. Of course it wasn't. But now you'll never get to be the one to claw your way out.) And it was about the fact that you were raised for this falling. You were meant to be battered, to be cast down, and it was not you that was loved but the idea of you. It was not you that was saved but the hope of you. (It's about control. Your life was not your own. Your death was not yours either.) miscellaneous (the tragedy of the civilian) The tragedy of the civilian (those citizens of the apocalypse, nameless victims). Bystander, passerby, witness. It doesn't matter which, if the distinctions ever mattered at all—the point is it wasn't your fault. The point is you didn't deserve it, you just happened to be there, you just made a wrong turn. It wasn't your fault. You didn't deserve this. It is, of course, still happening. You're still reeling from the impact of it, and it goes on, and you are given no chance to catch your breath, stumbling over it like a conveyor belt and it just keeps moving. listener (the tragedy of the observer) The tragedy of the observer. You wanted a happy ending. You knew there would be none, but you wanted it anyway. You hoped for it. Planned for it, even—knowing it was impossible, knowing you would only be hurt. You wanted it so bad that you believed it to the point of irrationality. You are disappointed. Tragedies only have the impact they do because the audience wants so desperately to see any other outcome. You wanted it. This is your tragedy.

#the magnus archives #tma #mag 200 spoilers #mag 200 #tma spoilers #mine #uhh hi :)

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words-writ-in-starlight · 4 years

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im vibing with your notes about how long 100 years is for booker because i've got SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT HIM AND HIS EXILE. how is he even going to spend those hundred years? does he just get paris for his exile? is he constantly just. drunk out of his mind so he doesn't have to process?? is he TALKING to anyone or is he in like. solitary confinement? if quynh didn't show up literally how would he survive (well, metaphorically)? can he get medicinal assistance getting more serotonin or not??

I’M NOT GOING TO LIE, I DON’T HAVE THAT MUCH SYMPATHY FOR BOOKER

Well, okay, I do have sympathy for Booker, I’ve never been into immortality as a concept because I’m ninety-four abandonment issues in a cadet cap, his life is my personal nightmare and I absolutely understand why he’s suicidally depressed, he should maybe get some therapy about it and honestly if alcohol works on them (and it clearly does) I see no reason that antidepressants shouldn’t.

However.

He does condemn the family that’s stuck with him and done their level best to be there for him to what could very easily be an eternity of torture! And I am a sufficiently vindictive person to understand why some sterner consequences than an apology (Nile I love you sweetie you’re doing amazing but literally no one including Booker would have taken that option) were called for. Both because the rest of the Guard was (justifiably) incredibly angry and within their rights to say that this is their limit for taking damage from him, right now, and because the relationship between Booker and the rest is absolutely going to require some time and distance in order to have a hope in hell of healing.

And the exile is...it’s the worst thing they could have done, sure--except, ironically, what he did to them--but it’s also something of a blank slate. I think part of the reason they all agreed to it, even Nile, is because it would ultimately be as bad as Booker made it for himself. If he spends a hundred years periodically drinking himself to death and not speaking to anyone except the person manning the liquor store, that’s Booker’s choice. Like, it sucks to say and it’s exhausting to live with, but no one can make you stop self-destructing. So if Booker spends a hundred years in total isolation, he chose to do that; if Booker tries to find something to fill his time other than drinking himself to death and travels and talks to people, he chose to do that too. The exile is a punishment no matter what, but it’s only hell if Booker decides it’s going to be, which is why I frankly think it’s a decent solution.

And sure, maybe the Guard could have done more to see the writing on the wall with Booker’s family and keep him away from them, or to save him from himself, but they’re all in the middle of wars and atrocities too. He’s their family, but it’s not their job to swallow being handed over as lab rats and tortured in order to drag him out of his own head. And I think Booker knows it, too. He takes the exile without batting an eye. He knows how badly he fucked up, he knows they’re right to be angry with him, he knows that any death could be their last, and even if Andy hadn’t been mortal, he would have been playing dice with all their lives.

That might have been fine if it was just him, by the way, because Booker wants to die! But Andy, Joe, and Nicky don’t. Even Andy doesn’t want to die, not like this. And Nile--Nile is twenty-six for God’s sake, she should have had another sixty years even if she wasn’t immortal, and Booker balks at bringing her into things but he still does it. And Booker knows all of that. He knows what he did and he is transparently horrified with himself, once he gets shocked out of his suicidal downward spiral to see the effect he’s had on his family. I genuinely do not think he could have lived with himself, if they had handed down anything less than exile as a punishment for his actions.

Which brings me to the fact that he still chooses to drink himself to death in exile. But to be totally honest? I think it’s kind of a different suicidality than before. It’s not the plain, uncomplicated death wish that leads him to sacrifice his whole family on the altar of his own depression. It’s self-loathing, pure and simple. Booker’s always hated immortality as a concept, for daring to choose him, for daring to be irrational and meaningless, for daring to be non-transferrable, but after the lab he clearly turns that hatred on himself. Booker’s always been his own worst enemy, and by god he’s not about to stop now that he doesn’t have anyone looking over his shoulder.

#the old guard #booker #sebastien le livre #uhhhhhh TLDR i don't have a ton of sympathy for booker!#i viscerally understand that it's not as simple as choosing not to be crushed under depression anymore #but to subject THREE PEOPLE YOU LOVE to an INDEFINITE UNENDING PERIOD OF TORTURE--that's definitely a choice my guy #TO SAY NOTHING OF NILE WHO IS--AGAIN--T W E N T Y S I X #there's a whole other post to write about how booker tries to keep nile out of it but refuses to take action to protect her #most notably when he encourages total inaction upon the reveal of a new immortal #(a lot of booker's problems are caused by General Unwillingness To Take Action actually)#(not everything goes fine if you ignore it booker! claim agency in your life booker!)#so anyway booker gets my sympathy when i see him Actually Choose something other than his next death #suicidality is a personal problem until you're also subjecting other people to an eternity of torment booker #i think i got very off-topic here i am sorry but i have been holding a Booker Rant under my tongue for weeks #'he's sad' he subjected two people to extended vivisection and was prepared to do the same to two more #'he felt bad' good. he should. he did a terrible thing. he can have some penance and come home when he's thought about it.#a queue we will keep and our honor someday avenge #princesssarcastia #asked and answered

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lauralikedthatmovie · 3 years

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I wish I could tell you something profound like I was on a mission trip, or something tragic like I was in a coma… but the fact of the matter is I lost my bliss. I just plain old slacked off so hard, y’all. I can’t even tell you how many movies I took notes on and just never wrote up… and maybe I’ll dig those scribbled sheets out finally!

So here’s a post that is the equivalent of me dipping my toe back in the (blog) water!

I think I speak for all of us when I say 2020 was disappointing in so many ways. Movies being a major casualty of the pandemic, especially frustrating since we were cooped up for 80% of the year. I can only think of 3 mainstream films I saw and I’m not exactly over here singing their praises to anyone. (THE WAY BACK, PALM SPRINGS, THE KING OF STATEN ISLAND - for the record.) This was definitely the year of the miniseries, for me… Perhaps I’ll revisit that another time :)

I compiled this list to recap what has stuck out to me since I dropped off the radar. I have seen these 8 films more than once; I have recommended them several times; and I didn’t even have to Google what year they came out because they left such an impression! Honorable mention to ON THE BASIS OF SEX, THE HATE U GIVE, and A SIMPLE FAVOR. From indies, to docs, to major award winners… there’s a nice crop of content for you to comb...

THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBINGS MISSOURI Fox Searchlight, 2017 My Take: Jaded mama bear in the backwoods of middle America channels her guilt & frustration following personal tragedy to shine a light on an antiquated, sexist, classist justice system. Perhaps the most darkly funny and timely film to win an Oscar?

MOLLY’S GAME STX, 2017 My Take: Could not take my eyes off Jessica Chastain as ex-Olympian turned bi-coastal private high-stakes poker hostess-with-the-mostest. Layered performances from a remarkable supporting cast (including Idris Elba, Kevin Costner, and Michael Cera) create a freaking symphony in this underrated adapted bio.

TO THE BONE Netflix, 2017 My Take: I can only think of one other film that unflinchingly highlights the taboo world of eating disorders and the oft-fatal road to recovery this particular avenue of mental health takes - and with all due respect, the Lifetime network wasn’t nearly as effective with their offering. Lily Collins carries this special film on every delicate, exposed vertebrae in her capable back.

INGRID GOES WEST Neon, 2017 My Take: Sardonic assessment of the fringe demo between Millennial and Gen Z. Screen culture, inflated self-importance, and the dangers of filtered life are embraced then set aflame by Audrey Plaza… who is SO MUCH MORE than the weirdly charming yet frightening April Ludgate on NBC’s “Parks & Rec.”

... .. . The only movie I cared about for the entirety of 2018 was A STAR IS BORN but I’m sure you’ve had about enough of the Gaga/Cooper talk . .. ...

BOOKSMART Annapurna Pictures/United Artists, 2019 My Take: It’s SUPERBAD for the woke #metoo femmefluid set. It’s fun, it’s evocative, it’s simultaneously timely AND nostalgic, and oh boy, it’s packed with a cast of young Hollywood faces you know and names you’ll learn shortly, as they’re all shining so bright I didn’t know where to look for fear of missing the next nuanced moment. SOMEONE GREAT Netflix, 2019 My Take: Giving yourself a day to cry, do some scene drugs, and relive the glory days with your friends - set to a near perfect soundtrack - as you transition between major phases of adulthood is reminder we all needed. Gina Rodriguez is a goddamn treasure… Someone greenlight a sequel before I tear up thinking about it any more. THE PEANUTBUTTER FALCON Roadside Attractions, 2019 My Take: YES to buddy road trip movies (this is a reimagining of Huck Finn if ever there was one!). YES to inclusive casting. YES to loving something pure & simple. YES to movies set in the beautiful state of North Carolina. YES to Shia LeBeouf in a vehicle that makes him seem much more tenderly human than we now know him to be.

ATHLETE A Netflix, 2020 My Take: I get a fresh wave of chillbumps across my whole body just thinking about this documentary. As a woman… no, you know what? This is about common decency not gender issues. As a human person with working brain cells, this film is startling for several reasons: The inexplicable willingness to sacrifice tender-aged girls in order to protect a brand; the overwhelming, pervasive silence amongst the otherwise tight community of elite athletes; the lack of urgency with which any consequences were doled out to the dozens of so-called professionals culpable among several branches of Team USA; and the absolutely unapologetic, fierce judge who created a safer space within the walls of her courtroom for 175 women to be heard than National Gymnastics could ever have hoped to fathom let alone facilitate.

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inviouswriting · 3 years

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Decided.

Spoiler Warnings - Spoilers for Save the Queen arc. Seriously if you haven’t done it and want to, don’t read it. The story is really good. You just need 10 mettle to complete most of the story dialogue.

Content warnings - Talks of Kivera’s past.

Characters - Mentions @snow-covered-moon ‘s Shuri. and the polyship.

I wanted to write Kivera in how she would even gain Misija. And this came out nicely.

“What made you bargain to let them spare me. Aren’t you afraid I’ll resort to the same methods?” Misija looks to Kivera, the reaper had managed to bargain her life. Kivera is staring off into the distance, she had yet to shed the normal guise, dancer and miqo. She thinks on how to answer Misija. Her attention turns towards her, green eyes flickering between colors.

“What good will the answer do you? Some sort of consolation? You had resigned yourself to execution. I didn’t have to bargain much, people can be bought with simple words.” Kivera spoke in a way that made the Roe think on her ways. She admired her strengths even before they had crossed weapons. There was something about the miqo’te, she didn’t force her way except when she demanded Misija to be left into her care. That she would be the decider of her fate.

“I suppose a question that already has an answer.” Misija follows Kivera’s gaze as they overlook a ruins, they were making their way slowly to a rendezvous with Shuri and Estinien. Shuri anxious to meet another person that managed to catch the eye of the reaper. Estinien accepting their house gaining another, trusting Kivera’s judgement. He didn’t have a reason to doubt her when it came to injustice somewhere.

“So tell me then, why me?” Kivera looks up, the first time she does since they had been traveling by foot and mount. They stopped for now to rest before they continued on.

“You have a shine to your soul that I couldn’t let be snuffed out.” Misija glances to her, seeing her change her form, a ripple in her clothing. She is taken by surprise of the wings, or how the simple demeanor she knew her as, is not there.

“Couldn’t let be snuffed out, so you bring me into a life with others? What if I were to run away, or escape this sentence.” Kivera casts an eye towards Misija.

“You could, but I doubt you will.”

“How are you so certain?”

“You would have done so by now. I’ve seen your type before. I’ve also fought you personally. If you had wanted to leave, you would have the moment we were outside Gangos.” Kivera brings a hand to her own face observing Misija’s simple close of her eyes, realizing she was caught.

“What drew you to me then.” She did not understand the prowess Kivera seems to have. A lure within herself, she could charm those around her, she has seen her do so. Others placing their faith in her blindly.

“You at first remind me of someone close to me. After seeing the memories of the Queen, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time since I came here. I saw injustice the same way you did. Yet understood the meaning behind Gunnhildr’s sacrifice. Yet still felt a wrongness in it.” Kivera sees the upturn in Misija’s face, at the memories of her great ancestor. Kivera had read the field notes, she knew why Misija had such a strong drive towards the Queen. Felt so wrong and was a perfect candidate for the primal.

“So why did you stop me, if you knew all that.” She sits down at the ledge, and Kivera watches her for now, as if analyzing her.

“I have people I want to protect on this star. Their very existence is what made me stop you. I did not want to see you burn out in the same fashion of another beloved friend to one of my lovers. Her death still haunts this love of mine.” Kivera flits to in front of Misija sitting on her lap.

The Roe eyes here weary of her ability to move fast. Another factor, she wouldn’t be able to outrun someone who was clearly more powerful than her. So Misija holds her at her waist.

“Is this Ysayle? The first count of a person taking a primal into herself? I heard about her, in how she sacrificed herself to let the warriors of light pass into Azys Lla. While chasing Thordan.” Kivera nods confirming the identity.

“Was I a chance for you to right a wrong then?” Kivera narrows her eyes, letting a flash of orange cross them. Annoyed at the constant questions.

“No. I chose you for other reasons. I will reveal those in time. I hope you’ll come to trust me, as I have placed my trust in others and you.” Misija sees how trust was emphasized in her words. That it is hard for the creature in front of her to trust others.

“It will be a slow process. How will you know I won’t use you and yours?”

“Time will tell. Slow process indeed, as for knowing. I have my ways.” Kivera raises her head to lock her gaze with Misija. There she is shown the same thing Kivera shows any who she has an interest in. Her past, everything about herself, what she is, who she is, what she endured, what she gained, her heartache and rises.

Like a storybook flipping through pages in Misija’s head, she is overwhelmed at seeing her murder, her cast down from the heavens, descent through hell and purgatory. The sheer strength she has at gaining each and every power she has now, weapon. One memory Misija focuses on is her trials, how Kivera crawled through a labyrinth blind and electrocuted by the great centaur Chiron as he shot arrows at her. Yet she outsmarts him luring him into a pool of water leading the lightning back to him.

After that point Misija sees the hurried memories of Damien, those seeming to fade more rapid like Kivera didn’t want anyone to see them. The loved ones she gained who are dear to her. From Shuri to Estinien, Divinity’s memories she understands Kivera’s attention after seeing the witch trial hunts. Seeing someone die for what others deem right and moral.

The share ends, and Misija is staring at green eyes, those eyes stare into her very soul, she feels her being frozen in space. Eorzea has no idea what kind of being wanders the realm, yet she chooses to love people who were once condemned for death in some way.

Misija finds Kivera’s eyes too intense, and looks away.

“Too much all at once?”

“Not every day someone meets a literal...”

“You can say it. Once.”

“Angel.”

“Fallen angel.”

“You have so much more, yet you waste your time with the likes of me, rejected by her own queen. You saw that end.. why?” Misija feels a hand at her face.

“Perhaps in time you will see what I see. I can’t tell you that right now. It’s something for you to figure out. You can’t do that dead obviously.” Kivera tilts her head feeling comfortable in her spot on the roe’s lap.

“You speak in riddles reaper.” Misija allows herself to relax knowing the other won’t force her hand in anything unwanted. She could run away even. But now that she witnessed the memories, she didn’t want to.

“I speak more plain if you open your mind a bit more. I’m not that complicated, and neither are you.” Kivera smirks as she speaks, the roe finding her a little arrogant in her words, but admires her straightforward self.

“Simple you say, yet you are one of the most complex beings to grace this realm.” Kivera takes it as a compliment seeing the sly grin on her face. Kivera guides Misija’s head towards her own. The roe eyes her again but does as she is being guded. Kivera presses her forehead to hers. A simple affection, one that didn’t need to be elaborated on, or for her to convey her feelings when they’re right there.

Misija had never been given affection like this, calm and pure. It scared her, she knew of nothing kind in her entire life, yet a person she had tried to kill was there showing her this rare kindness.

Vulnerability more than the bare hunger she suffered in her youth. Humility, Kivera was showing her humility, what it meant to enjoy what you have before you. For Misija it is this woman now, for Kivera it is all she has ever gained from her own death.

“You are too kind.. Perhaps it would be your undoing.”

“Silence before I make you be quiet. Enjoy this moment with me. I’m not asking you for much and neither are you.” Kivera receives her request, and they spend the next few minutes in complete silence, accepting the others presence.

For once since her release into this new chapter. Misija allows herself to be more selfish.

#ffxiv misija #misija votyasch #Kivera Siverstein #shuri fontaye #save the queen #bozjan southern front #Kivera being herself

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pass-the-bechdel · 4 years

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Marvel Cinematic Universe: Avengers: Infinity War (2018)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

Yes, once.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Nine (25.71% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Twenty-six.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Film Quality:

For a movie which is pretty much wall-to-wall fight scenes...I love it. I always start out going ‘maybe I overrate this movie, maybe it’s not as good as I remember’, but by the end, I’m right back in there.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Wanda apologises to Natasha for lying. It’s a close call.

Female characters:

Pepper Potts.

F.R.I.D.A.Y

Gamora.

Mantis.

Wanda Maximoff.

Natasha Romanoff.

Okoye.

Nebula.

Shuri.

Male characters:

Ebony Maw.

Thanos.

Thor.

Loki.

Heimdall.

Bruce Banner.

Stephen Strange.

Wong.

Tony Stark.

Peter Parker.

Ned.

Peter Quill.

Rocket.

Drax.

Groot.

Vision.

Steve Rogers.

Sam Wilson.

The Collector.

Thaddeus Ross.

James Rhodes.

T’Challa.

Bucky Barnes.

Eitri.

Red Skull.

M’Baku.

OTHER NOTES:

Heimdall had proven himself too much of an MVP in previous films to be allowed to live in this one. Bastards.

Heimdall and Loki, both dead before the opening titles. That’s how you know this movie means business, it’s not faking at high stakes.

I also am from space and have come here to steal a necklace from a wizard.

“Mr Stark, it smells like a new car in here!”

“All words are made up.”

Not gonna lie, when I saw this at the cinema and I realised that Captain America had arrived? My heart LEAPT. It was intense.

Depressed Thor is a great touch - after all previous films with Thor had him so bland, and then Ragnarok made him funny but essentially glossed over any of the difficult emotions it was dredging up, I’m glad to finally get something real and meaty from the character. If characters go through all manner of Hell and don’t show any signs of labouring under that weight, you’re doing character development wrong.

Nice callback with Red Skull.

The sacrifice of Gamora on Vormir is a really well-balanced piece; it was asking a lot, to make the emotion of it land despite how little of Thanos we’ve seen before, and without genuine emotion at it’s core it’s just the killing off of a female character for shock value. I feel like they got the pitch just right (most thanks to the music).

As much as I enjoy Thor and Rocket’s bantering, the side-quest for Stormbreaker feels like an unnecessary and over-the-top distraction in an already stuffed-full film. Easily the weakest part of the plot.

The fact that Quill fucks everything up with defeating Thanos on Titan because he can’t keep himself under control for two seconds certainly does not endear him to me in the slightest. Like ok, you’re upset, but if you can’t stop yourself from getting violent that’s on you, that makes you a dangerous person with serious issues, that’s not normal and it’s not ok. Also, literally half of all life in the universe was at stake. So there’s that.

Listen, I’m very susceptible to heroism (and that’s why superhero movies work for me), so every time someone comes to someone else’s rescue, I have feelings.

I had convinced myself that somehow, Thanos wouldn’t succeed with his whole plan in this movie, that he would get all the stones but that he would like, go to a special place or something before enacting his plan, so that the good guys would have a chance to regroup and race to stop him before it was too late, all that jazz. So (even though Thanos had already snapped at that point), when Bucky Barnes disintegrated before our very eyes, I was SHOCKED. That got me like a smack in the face.

Considering I’ve never really been a fan of Tom Holland’s Spider-man, it’s a credit to his work that Peter’s death scene is so effective. That’s acting.

So, what makes this movie work despite being so heavy with bombastic action? The short answer is: it’s because the good guys lose. I’ve made no secret of being a fan of the ‘hour darkest before the dawn’ in storytelling, so this is playing to the sweet spot for me there, but it’s not as simple as just making everything miserable and hopeless. In this case, specifically, the lead-up to that ultimate failure is key; it’s gotta still feel like a superhero extravaganza, even as it takes an increasingly dark turn. The action works because it’s part of what we signed up for (the best camouflage for subversions of the traditional model), and it works because it’s all carrying the story forward - the Infinity War is comprised of multiple battles, and because of the way the pieces of the narrative are separated, the characters don’t know how any of the other battles are turning out; everyone is just trying to fight what’s in front of them and defend the stone in their midst, they don’t have the option to sit around doom-and-glooming and restrategising as news of each defeat comes in. Rather than dragging us wholesale from Point A to B to C in ever-escalating stakes and complications, the writers have had the good sense to spread things out and let things fall apart for our heroes (and the universe) in multiple smaller pieces until they reach a cumulative critical mass. Consequently, instead of feeling as though we’re sitting there watching things go from bad to worse, the audience forms this false sense of security in the action; it’s a superhero movie, after all. We expect them to work it all out in the end, to build toward a moment of apparent hopelessness (a darkest hour before the dawn), and then to rally triumphantly for the big win. As such, we perceive small victories (i.e. the defeat of Thanos’ various ‘children’, the creation of Stormbreaker, the way things draw out in the battle on Titan) as if they are more significant, as if they are signs leading us to that big win; without those small, expected victories, the ultimate failure would not hit as hard, because after two and a half hours of watching the good guys get wrecked without a chance, what surprise would there be in the snap?

Of course, plenty of viewers knew about the snap already or expected an ultimate failure of some sort based on the fact that we pretty much all knew that this was the first half of our grand Avengers finale (my mother, who is not a superhero movie fan, did not know what she was getting into and was...very shocked), so it’s important that the film still works to engage us on a character level so that the good guys losing in the end can hit like a ton of bricks even if you knew it was coming (and even though you no doubt expected to get the big win eventually, once Endgame came out). After all the fighting and the bantering, all the usual stuff we expect to see our heroes go through in the course of an average adventure, having them then watch their beloved friends/allies/whatever literally disintegrate before their eyes in a quiet, drawn out scene of devastation is a magnificent piece of cinema, communicating the shock not only of the event itself, but of the complete disruption to the superhero status quo. It’s not just that good guys don’t lose like this, it’s that they don’t lose with a whimper instead of a a bang. It’s not only that the cost of failure has never been this high; it’s also that they have never been forced to watch it play out with such inevitability; they have never before been rendered so powerless. If the entire film had the tone of the last ten minutes, it wouldn’t work so well, it’d just be a drudge and the audience would be desensitised by the end. By the same token, if the rest of the film had not planted the seeds of the finale so thoroughly in all its smaller losses and smokescreen victories, the ending would not be so horrifically fitting.

Neither, of course, would the ending be so affecting, if we were not as attached to the characters as we are. We have many, many films worth of history with most of them, or at least one solid encounter in which to become attached, and even in a movie chock-full of more characters than any other before, everyone gets a chance to show their personality and remind us why we care if they live or die. I’m not going to argue for this being an incredible character piece (nor is it pretending to be one), but it plays its very large hand very well, putting emphasis where it needs to be without overloading or unbalancing the story. As I noted above, I was particularly impressed with the way Thanos was handled, considering our exposure to him previously was very minimal and it was left up the this film to build his ethos as well as his relationships with his ‘children’ almost from scratch, creating complexity and simplicity without falling into the trap of trying to make the villain sympathetic; Thanos isn’t necessarily relatable (nor does he need to be), but he is understandable in that we’ve all probably encountered at least one person who holds the same limited worldview and is somehow convinced that they could ‘fix’ everything, given the power. Thanos isn’t actually aiming for universal domination in the traditional sense, and it makes him more disturbing and more realistic as a villain, because his evil is not nebulous or purely self-serving; he is a true believer, and his delusions have an all-too-familiar ring about them, so as we watch him lumber and pontificate around the story, we get a clearly-drawn image of someone possessed of such basic and humble flaws that he is - again, without being treated as sympathetic - quite significantly humanised, despite all of the non-human elements that make up both his character, and his situation. Even as it planet-hops and draws upon cosmic magic, the narrative is grounded by a centrepiece of plain, ungodly fallibility.

Now, I recognise that in all of this praise for the way this film was executed, there isn't really anything to be said for it regarding the purpose of this blog; on the female representation front, it's not really doing anything (the fact that it juuust manages to pass the Bechdel and juuust over a quarter of its cast is female does not win it brownie points; its better than not having either of those things, but that's not a genuine achievement). The two female characters who were more prominently positioned in this movie are Gamora and Wanda; Gamora largely in context of her relationship with Thanos, and Wanda as Vision’s significant other and the means of his destruction. Notably, both women’s arcs are accessories to the arcs of male characters, which is not what we’re aiming for in good representation, though it does not exclude the possibility of quality content; Gamora’s role may have a lot to do with Thanos (not least, after he kills her), but it is still distinctly her own story, rich with emotion and coming to a surprising and depressing end which I felt struck the right chords to be compelling rather than an enraging disposal of one of the few female characters around (more on this after Endgame). Wanda’s presence leaves less of an impression, in terms of screen time, plot complication, and audience engagement, but all things considered I don’t think that was a terrible choice; Wanda and Vision’s relationship had been a somewhat sparse subplot in previous films and the chemistry was not strong, so I don’t think it would have been to the film’s benefit to try and expand on that relationship further than they did. As it was, there was enough there to sell the emotion, and nothing extraneous, and as much as I enjoy this movie, I wish I could say better things for its female representation than that. It is stuffed-full, and definitely not perfect, and space could have been made to pump up some of the other female characters’ roles more (the Earthbound characters get the least attention in the movie, and since basically all my faves are there it is a testament to how well this movie works for me that I enjoy it so much anyway, but a little more attention there would not have gone astray, especially since that’s where most of the female cast is). That said...I still really enjoy it, man. As far as popcorn action goes, this is top shelf.

#Marvel Cinematic Universe #Avengers: Infinity War #female representation #Bechdel Test #MCU

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ikemen-bully · 4 years

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Sometime I wonder...

Why are the heroine always looking as plain as possible and the reason why the love interest fall for her always have to be how she is pure, kind and also fragile so they want to protect her?

Like in a way maybe is it a good thing to see a heroine loved even if there is better looking female character around her and that these simple quality are enough.

But in the same time, like many, I don't recognize myself in such characters. Many other girls from the west don't, it's one of the reason why they are hated (that and other factor such as jealousy and ect).

So it can be good but in a way it also suck because it would be nice to see a heroine who is more human in her emotions rather than an ideal of purity and self sacrifice.

It would be nice to see other type of heroines. Because it could showcase that even people who don't radiate light all the time, feel less romantic emotions such as anger and even grudge, can still be loved.

#rambling

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residentanchor · 5 years

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Danger Prone

I tried posting this in the ask I got but Tumblr is stupid and it wouldn’t let me use the keep reading line so I’m posting it separately.

Prompt: Yes, hello, I would like to order one Moxiety angst ficlet if I could? Yes, thank you. Oh, if I could have extra self sacrifice with a hint of life or death, that'd be great. And perhaps maybe a bit of mind control, if possible. Make it hurt. Choose your victim. Happy ending is preferred

Hero!Virgil Villain!Remy Civilian!Patton Romantic Moxiety

Warnings: cursing, mind control, angst (with happy fluffy ending), fighting, someone gets hurt, kidnapping, brief mentions of abusive relationship, manipulation

Roughly 6k

Patton wasn't special. He wasn't a reporter or some scientist. He had a mundane job and a simple life. The only impressive skill or talent he ever had was the fact that he could always find trouble without looking for it.

In all world where people had powers, Patton often wondered if his power would be called 'damsel in distress'. Not that he had any powers mind you. He's simply could find himself in danger so easily that he begins to question if it was a possibility.

It wasn't. There was a way to test for these kinds of things and Patton had failed them all at a young age. So, to the world, Patton Morales was as plain as everyone else. Not remarkable, not different, not special.

Patton’s best friend would disagree. Well, Patton saw him as his best friend! Maybe just a regular friend? Acquaintances, then. Whatever they were, Stormy Knight was a hero straight out of Patton’s dreams, sometimes literally. It was a moment of pure luck, and the good kind this time! When Stormy Knight was first starting off, his dark outfit started to scare people. They speculated that he was after something. He wasn’t a true hero--just because he dressed a little darker.

This is where Patton’s bad luck comes into play. He was walking home as one does and got a bit lost. He asked the wrong person for help and now they were trying to ‘charge’ him for directions… by handing over his wallet. He just had one of those faces, he guessed. Of course, Patton always tried to fight it, but when it came to these sorts of things, he knew there was no use.

That’s when Stormy Knight made an appearance. Dropped down from the sky and landed in a rather epic pose before slowly standing up and telling the jerks to just walk away. After a bit of intimidating, no normal person would dare threaten a super without reason, so they left and Patton got to keep his wallet for another day, at least. Thank goodness, the cat wallet was one thing he treasured dearly. It was just so cute!

He watched Stormy Knight closely as he thanked him. He was new, Patton hadn’t seen him before, but the all black clothing didn’t strike him as ‘hero material’. (Don’t worry, Stormy didn’t get the joke at first either.)

Patton offhandedly mentioned keeping the aesthetic doesn’t mean you can’t add color. Blues, purples, even a little white as an accent color… they could help him seem a bit brighter and less ‘villainous’. People loved to judge based on looks, after all.

The first time Patton saw Stormy in the news, his outfit was completely different. There wasn’t much black at all! He had swapped it all out for a blue and purple storm cloud pattern with a bit of leather armor, white accents all around. Patton’s heart thudded happily as he smiled. Maybe if he ever saw Stormy Knight again, he’d tell him he approved.

---

Patton Morales had incredibly bad luck. Because he did run into Stormy Knight again. An average day in a city slowly growing with supers, Patton wasn’t even supposed to be at the bank. It wasn’t even his bank! He was simply there for work, but of course, it was being robbed. Or, at least, attempting to be. A newer villain making an attempt at something bigger, quickly thwarted when Stormy Knight snuck in. There was another hero as well--a former Villain in a prince costume who made a wonderful distraction for Stormy to sneak in and get everyone out. He paused when he saw Patton and smirked for a moment before moving along to the next poor civilian that was trapped inside.

They didn’t get to talk after, but Patton made sure to wave to him and that he saw before disappearing.

The third time, Stormy was beginning to worry about this poor civilian. He was stuck on a highway in traffic. The villain he was facing was saying something about ruining everyone’s morning commutes to put them all behind schedule. It wasn’t exactly ‘evil’ and Patton began to wonder about the villains in the city. Half were easily reformed as heroes, the other half didn’t seem truly evil except for a select few. It’s strange like they thought being evil was the only choice they had until proven otherwise.

Back on topic, Patton was outside his car watching with a heavy heart as the hero and villain battled. It didn’t take much more than a few words and a swift punch before the villain surrendered, apologizing for doing something so ‘terribly rude of me, I am dreadfully sorry!’ Patton was just happy he could finally get going, though no doubt he was incredibly behind and late for work. Stormy stood there, winds around him lifting him into the air as he looked over the crowd of people. He watched and made sure everyone was okay before he started to fly off before his eyes caught Patton’s. And while Patton couldn’t prove it because he was so far away, it looked as if Stormy shook his head before flying off.

Things like this kept happening. Patton would end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. He couldn’t help it! Things like this just happened to him! But now, he was in the middle of an attack, trapped on a fire escape because there was a fire outside the door of his apartment building and he certainly wasn’t going to stay there! The building shook and Patton lost his footing, stumbling and holding onto the railing as tight as he could. He opened his eyes and watched his glasses fall, vision blurring, as he pushed away from the railing and back toward the building. He certainly didn’t want to fall with them. Glasses are replaceable, he was not!

Patton’s not sure what had happened that led to his current predicament but he didn’t want to stay on the fire escape much longer. Patton slowly made an attempt to climb down before he froze as everything shook once more. The fire escape creaked and shifted and Patton shut his eyes, afraid of what was happening around him.

“Hold on!” Patton gasped as a pair of arms wrapped around him before gusts of wind forced him to keep his eyes shut. It didn’t last long before the sounds around them grew quieter and distant, the wind dying down into nothing. “You okay?”

Carefully, Patton opened his eyes and looked up, the somewhat blurry face of Stormy Knight, Lightning Bolt shaped mask and all. “It’s you!”

Stormy chuckled and smiled, amused. “Yes, and it’s you. You certainly get into danger a lot.” Without a word, Stormy shifted him to let him down on his feet. “I feel if I see you everywhere.”

“Just lucky, I guess.” Patton smiled back at Stormy. “I like the new look!”

The hero smiled and looked away. If Patton could see more of his face, he wondered if the hero was blushing. “Well, yeah, this wonderfully nice civilian gave some good advice. I just wish I caught his name.”

“Patton. Morales.”

Patton held out a hand which Stormy gladly took. “Nice to meet you, Patton.” He looked over Patton’s shoulder and frowned. “Looks like I have to get back to the… the thing, um.”

Patton realized he was still holding the hero’s hand before quickly letting go. “I’m sorry! Go on ahead! I should probably talk to someone about my apartment being on fire or something.”

“I’m sure Princey can help with the fire and Brainiac can fix anything so I’ll try to see if we can’t make it as good as new!”

Patton watched as Stormy flew off and back into the skirmish as best he could before sighing. He needed a new pair of glasses asap.

After that, it seemed that Patton and Stormy Knight almost found each other even more, as impossible as it seemed. Patton wouldn’t even be in danger but the hero would appear while on patrol, checking in on the ‘danger prone citizen.’ He wondered if following Patton would be easier than searching for danger himself.

Soon enough, Patton would just wait outside on that fire escape every night, wondering if the hero would stop by. Soon enough, it was almost a nightly (or Knightly!) occurrence between the two. Patton talked about life and asked Stormy about the hero life. He didn’t learn much but found out that the hero became a hero after everyone in his life believed he couldn’t be one.

“Some call it ambition, I call it spite, but it worked.”

He also learned that there was a core group of villains that pretty much were the cause of most crimes in the city. That’s why most villains were quick to turn over a new leaf, they were recruited by villains. Or more like blackmailed, it seemed. Stormy didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much they could do. The villains never did the dirty work themselves unless it was something big. They had been relatively quiet, so the heroes were worried they were working on something massive.

“Not much we can do unless we find them first, which doesn’t seem likely. There are no known bases and since we don’t even know what they even remotely look like, we’re at a dead end until they made a move.”

“Aww, I’m sure you’ll figure it out! And if not, I know you’ll give it your all to keep us all safe!” Patton placed a hand on the hero’s back before leaning in and giving him a brief hug. “I believe in you.”

The hero went quiet after that and Patton began to worry if he had said the wrong thing. His heart thudded loudly in his chest before the hero turned and smiled. “That means a lot to me, Patton. Thank you.”

The normal day to day life of Patton Morales seemed to calm down a bit. He wasn’t finding himself in danger nearly as much, thank goodness, and he wondered if being acquainted with the hero had anything to do with it. Perhaps it did, but Patton quickly found out that maybe, just maybe, it was because something bigger was coming around the corner for them both.

Patton had been walking home from the store one evening, a few bags in his hands. It wasn’t a long walk and Patton’s car was pretty beaten down so he didn’t like driving it outside of work. Too many hero related incidents could take a beating on anything in this city and his insurance didn’t cover much. He was almost to his apartment when he heard it.

“Patton Morales.”

He stopped and looked around, spinning in a quick circle a bit confused. The sun was still setting so he could see just fine, but there was no one on the street beside himself.

“Patton Morales.”

“Hello?” Patton looked again, unsure where the voice was coming from. “Is someone there?”

“Patton Morales.”

Patton spun around and was face to face with someone, clouded goggles covering their face. Patton yelped and stumbled back, his bags still in his hands. He blinked and watched them smile in a way that made Patton’s skin crawl. “C-can I help you?”

“I’m so glad you asked, Patton Morales.” They reached up and pushed their goggles to rest on their head. “There is something you can help me with.”

---

When Stormy Knight showed up that night, Patton was nowhere to be found. His apartment was dark and there were no traces Patton had been home in a while. He stood around for a minute, heart sinking in disappointment, before he placed his foot on the railing, ready to take off.

“Stormy Knight! Wait, down here!” The hero looked down to the street and saw someone waving their arms over their head, trying to get his attention. The hero complied and glided down to the sidewalk before landing softly. “Thank goodness you’re here! One of my tenants is missing!”

“Missing?”

The landlord raced over to a few bags that were resting against the building. “These were found on the sidewalk a while ago along with his wallet.”

The hero only had to see the familiar cat wallet to know that it belonged to Patton. Who had been taken off of the street in broad daylight without a trace. “Shit,” the hero muttered under his breath, taking the wallet carefully and looking at the ID on the inside. Patton Morales. “Shit!” The hero sneered and spun around, his mind in a frenzy. They left the wallet so they knew who was taken. They did it outside of his freaking apartment, this was definitely a targeted attack. “I have to go!”

The hero flew off. Actually, just like his namesake, he stormed off. He was stupid! Is that all it took? One stupid, pretty face and he grew complacent. He put Patton at risk just so he could hang out with him. Out of costume, he was a boring loser. Someone like Patton would never bother to hang out with him. That’s not true. Patton was such a kind person who saw the best in the worst situations. He would have liked him, liked Virgil, but he was a coward. Virgil was boring. Stormy Knight was a hero with powers who protected people. Or, at least, he did. Now, he put someone at risk. Why couldn’t he just face Patton outside of the mask?!

He didn’t get far before his communicator went off. The ones that kept him in contact with his teammates. Perhaps they knew who did this?

Stormy quickly landed and pulled out his communicator. “Hey, anything new happen?”

“Why don’t you tell me, Stormy Knight?” The hero froze at the unfamiliar voice. “You left the apartment rather quickly. Find anything interesting?”

The hero grits his teeth and squeezed the communicator. “What do you want with him?”

“Him? Him who?” The hero snarled and heard the villain laugh. “Oh! You mean my new friend Patton Morales here? He’s just fine. We were having a nice, long talk. Did you know his favorite color is all of them? How adorable.”

“Just tell me who you are and what you want?”

“How about a trade, babe. You come to me and I’ll let sweet, dear Patton go free.”

It was a trap. It was so obviously a trap, he couldn’t agree or go in alone but...he couldn’t leave Patton with this unknown villain, could he? “Where and when?”

“I knew you’d see things my way. They always do.”

---

Storage units. How plain and obvious and boring. He rented a storage unit for this exact purpose, he had to have. Or he stole one. They had checked warehouses and boardwalks and storage units early on when villains started cropping up. It was an obvious spot and unoriginal villains loved to copy what they saw. The Prince had even warned him about it. Stormy landed and found the single unit with the light on above it, all the others around it mysteriously off.

Stormy was strong and paired with his wind, he broke open the unit fairly easily. Inside, someone was tied to a chair, unconscious. There was no one else around and the small unit was empty besides that. The familiar messy mop of hair was enough for the hero to recognize Patton, even with his face hidden. He spun around and looked for the mysterious villain that had brought him there, but they were seemingly alone.

Looking back into the storage unit, the hero frowned. “Patton?” He leaned in, worried about this obvious trap. “Patton, you okay?”

“Sorry, he’s not gonna hear you like that. Why not get a little closer?” The hero spun and found a man dressed in ordinary clothes. Jeans, jacket, boots… The only thing that stuck out was the cloudy pair of goggles on his face. “So glad you could make it, though! You seem like you’ll be much more fun than the others!”

“Who are you and what do you want?” The villain tensed up, ready to fight. “What ‘others’ are you talking about?”

“Calm down, sheesh. You sound like that stupid prince.” The man grew quiet and Stormy could almost feel his eyes on him, though he couldn’t see them. “You’re the best collateral I’ve managed to get my hands on so far.”

“Collateral?” The villain motioned toward the unconscious civilian tied to the chair. “He’s not collateral! You said you’d let him go!”

“Yes, in exchange for you. I’m gonna need collateral to make sure you don’t break free.”

“Break free of what, an agreement?”

“Of sorts.” The villain reached up to his goggles with both hands before pushing them out of the way. “I’ve got a bunch of names, babe, but most call me the Sleeper.” The hero gasped and took a step back as the villain stared at him, milky white irises staring back. “I have a tendency to make sleeper agents in the worst places, you see.” He tapped the side of his head as he spoke. “I can put thoughts in your head and just wait for the right moment. This, however, I think I’m gonna enjoy. You’ll be the best one yet! Better than all those other duds that just became heroes after.”

“Heroes? Y-you mean…” Stormy Knight thought back to everyone he’s ever fought. Every villain that quickly turned over a new leaf after defeat. Everyone that started out as a villain over being a hero. Heck, even his teammate used to be… “Like… Like Prince used to…”

“Ahh, yes. My biggest regret, that one.” The villain sighed and shrugged. “Ya see, you can break free pretty easily if you want. I’m not strong enough to keep people under for long so I just need enough leverage for you to give in. I was foolish with that Prince. Thought I had more control than I did. Just had to make him think I loved him and he was eager to do as I say. Wasn’t very good at it, I guess. He just had to rebel and become ‘good’, bleh!” Sleeper took a step closer, causing the hero to back away. “You, however… you like our little Patton, don’t you? The feelings there aren’t fake.”

“I, he’s just a danger-prone civilian!” The hero studdered and knew he wouldn’t get away with the lie.

“A civilian, yes, but a pretty one. So, here’s my deal, hero.” Sleeper pointed to him and smirked. “Either I get into your little boyfriends’ head and he thinks I’m you and he becomes mine… or I get into your head and you become my new plaything. I promise to leave your little disastrous civilian alone as long as you cooperate.”

The hero took a stance, ready to attack. “What makes you think I can’t just attack you right now and get it over with?”

Sleeper didn’t even flinch. Instead, he smirked and held up a hand, poised and ready to snap his fingers. “Because I’m already in his head and the only way I’ll back out is if you agree.”

This was stupid, coming alone to fight whatever villain this was. An important one, if he was the reason Prince had started out as a villain. He never spoke of those times other than someone had gotten it into his head that it was the better choice. Stormy didn’t realize he meant actually into his mind and controlled him, but that’s over and done with. The information wouldn’t have stopped him from coming to Patton’s rescue. Civilian or not, no matter the feelings, he was Patton’s friend. And a hero. And what is a hero if not someone to protect the people?

“You leave him alone. You or anyone else will not touch him. He doesn’t get hurt or kidnapped or anything after this.” The hero’s voice shook as he spoke. “He… he gets to live a normal life as if this never happened.”

“Oh, don’t worry. As long as he’s alive, we get to have you.” The villain snapped his fingers and smiled. “Come along now before he wakes up. I’ve got plans for you, Stormy Weather…”

Patton would soon wake up, tied to a chair in a dark room with the dim moonlight pouring through an opening. Soon enough, red and blue flashing lights and sirens would approach before he saw flashlights join them. A figure would stand in the entryway and call out to others. The whole night was a blur but the only thing Patton could remember was the pale eyes that stared back at him.

When he returned to his apartment building, his landlord would be relieved to see he was alright. They asked about the hero that had stopped by, saying they raced off when they heard Patton had gone missing. After taking his wallet and belongings back, Patton went straight to bed, exhausted from the night.

It wasn’t until the next day that he was determined to make it up to his friend. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he knew that Stormy Knight had rescued him. He didn’t hear or see anything, but something in his heart had told him. He was there to visit when Patton’s landlord had told him that he had gone missing, so who else could it have been?

He baked cookies and waited eagerly on his fire escape that night, waiting for the hero to show up. He waited again the next day, and the day after that, every night for over a week with no luck. Stormy also hadn’t been seen at all in the past week. No heroic attempts made, no people saved, no patrols that people managed to snap pictures of. The hero had vanished and Patton worried that he might have gotten hurt that night he was found. Perhaps he got injured and called the cops to find and rescue him? They had said it was an anonymous tip that led them to the storage unit that he was found in.

It wasn’t until almost two weeks later that Patton grew even more worried. He stared at a T.V. screen as he watched what looked like Stormy Knight, but with an outfit that resembled his older black one. Also, he wasn’t saving anyone… he was fighting his teammates. The Prince looked distraught and Brainiac was fighting back with everything he had, but neither was a match for their former hero.

But that’s not right! He was there rescuing him from… something or someone just a week ago! They were laughing on the fire escape together after Patton made a few puns! They were friends, weren’t they? What was going on?

“Patton Morales?” Patton spun around and found himself face to face with Brainiac and the Prince. “We would like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind.”

Patton’s boss immediately gave him the day off after they saw the two heroes lurking around. Patton followed them into a car that began to drive them to an unknown location, not a word spoken between them. Patton’s heart raced in anticipation and a bit in fear of what was going on. Eventually, the car pulled into a building and everything grew dark before the lights came back on. He wasn’t sure where they were, but it was plain and boring and, most importantly, they were alone.

“We should be good here,” Brainiac got out of the car with the Prince quickly following. Seeing powerful heroes using mundane ways to travel was strange, but Patton wasn’t one to question it. “Now, then.” Brainiac stared down the civilian with a frown. “You are the civilian that our former teammate would visit on an almost nightly basis, correct?”

“He’s still our teammate, smarty pants. I keep telling you this!” The Prince huffed and seemed distressed over the whole situation.

As they waited for an answer, Patton nodded. “Yeah, he would visit me sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Why? Why would he visit me?” Brainiac’s stiff attitude was a bit offputting. “Um, because I’m pretty danger prone. He saw me so often that he just started… checking in on me, I guess?”

“Was that your idea or his?”

“Uh, his?” Patton looked down as if he should be ashamed. “I didn’t… hate it, though. He’s good company.”

“What happened the night he went missing?” Patton perked up quickly, shocked at the news.

“W-wait. He… he went missing that night?! I thought maybe…”

The Prince sighed and shook his head, taking a step closer to the civilian. “You’re going about this all wrong. If you want answers, you have to show some empathy. Innocent until proven guilty, yeah?” He looked back at his teammate before turning and smiling at Patton. “Hello, I’m the Prince. We heard there was an incident about two weeks ago that you were involved in. Could you tell us about that?”

Patton nodded and thought back to that night. “Not much to tell. I was walking home from the store and I heard this voice. It-it was calling my name? But I didn’t see anyone around. Then I remember waking up and the police were around.”

Brainiac was growing frustrated at the story. “Was there nothing else you remember?”

Patton tried to remember that blurry night as best he could. He went to the store. The sun was still setting. The voice… Wait! Patton gasped and looked between the two heroes. “I don’t know if this helps but… I remember their face a little? Or more like their eyes? They were like a blueish-white color.”

The Prince spun around and ran his hands through his hair before crying out in frustration. “I TOLD YOU! I said it was him, I knew it!”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“It seems that the Sleeper has taken our teammate and turned him into a villain.”

“Sleeper? Wait, villain?! But, but Stormy isn’t a bad guy! He’s so nice and sweet and he laughs at my puns even if he tries to deny it and he wouldn’t hurt a fly! I mean unless the fly tried robbing someone!”

The Prince turned and watched as Patton grew even more distressed before letting out a soft sigh. “Yeah, you’re definitely the guy.”

“Which is good news for us.” Brainiac approached Patton and tucked his hands behind his back. “Patton Morales, we require your help. We believe you’re the only one that can help break our friend free from the friend's firm fist of evil.”

“Alliteration, nice.” The Prince mumbled under his breath.

Patton nodded immediately. “Of course! What do I have to do?”

“Well, you said you were danger prone, correct?”

---

‘It shouldn’t have been this easy’ Patton thought as he strolled down the streets of the city. He always had a way with danger finding him, so that’s what he was doing. Letting what always happens… happen. They needed to find Stormy Knight, or Stormy Weather as he was being called. Patton hated the name, but then again, he hated everything about the situation. The other heroes were looking for their teammate as well but kept tabs on Patton just in case. Brainiac thought that the fact Patton always found himself in danger strange, but he couldn’t go against the pile of evidence against him.

It didn’t take more than 2 days before Patton found himself in the middle of the city, his friend terrorizing civilians and juggling cars. He called Brainiac as soon as he could and was instructed to get back and wait for their arrival.

Patton hung up and immediately apologized to the hero in his mind as he made his way closer. The villain hadn’t noticed him quite yet, his gusts of wind whipping around him like a tornado. He reached a hand toward a jewelry store and smiled as a whirlwind glittered on its way back to him.

“STORMY!” The ‘villain’ turned and spotted Patton as he tried to get closer. “Stormy! You haven’t visited in a week! I made cookies! Are you okay?”

The villain watched curiously before smiling. “I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” He reached out with an arm and the winds around Patton grew more intense. “Are you trying to play games with me? Cause that’s not gonna fly!”

Patton felt the ground move out from underneath him and failed as he began to float. He cried out before looking at the hero, arms covering his face from the gusts. “Not-not gonna fly! That’s a good one, buddy!”

Stormy frowned and his hand lowered as did Patton. He was planning on launching him and seeing how far he could throw the guy, but he was laughing at his jokes? “You think that’s funny?”

“I always think you’re funny, Stormy! We make the best jokes together, like friends always do!”

Patton watched as Stormy’s eyes widened and he blinked a bit. “P-Patton?”

“Sorry I missed you two weeks ago! I only meant to step out for a minute, I promise.”

Patton had hoped that Stormy would snap out of it and they would happily be reunited. But, maybe it wasn’t as easy as he had hoped.

“Patton…” Stormy sneered. “Sorry, doesn’t sound familiar.” The gusts grew more intense than before and Patton reached out to hold onto something. A mailbox, a stop sign, anything! He found a bench that was bolted to the ground and held on, even though it was about to fly off itself. “Now get out of my way.”

“No! I’m not leaving without my best friend!”

“Then I’ll just make you leave!”

Patton felt the bench splinter into pieces and fly off, taking him with it. He fell back onto the ground and landed hard with a thud, his vision growing dark for a second. Patton wasn’t sure what had happened but he didn’t move, gasping for air. He must have gotten it knocked out of him when he landed.

“Shit, Patton!”

He opened his eyes and realized that his glasses must have fallen off again when he flew back. The blurry yet familiar face of his friend grew closer and he couldn’t help but smile. “Hey Stormy.”

“Shh, don’t talk. Don’t move! I’ll find you some help.”

“What? No, I’m fine. Are you okay?” Patton raised his hand to reach out to Stormy who simply grabbed it and held it close. “What’s wrong?”

“Gosh, Patton, I’m so sorry.”

“Its ‘kay. I forgive ya.” Patton felt more exhausted then he had expected.

“Patton, stay awake!”

“Mmm. I will.” He tried taking a deep breath that burned and caused him to wince in pain. “W-what-”

“I said don’t move! The bench kind of exploded and… and I can’t remove it, so just… Wait a minute. Help is coming!”

Patton looked confused before glancing down, a hunk of the wood from the bench sticking out of his abdomen. “Oh… wood you look at that, hah… Did you like that one, Stormy?”

The hero closed his eyes and sat for a moment before nodding. “I did. And… you can call me Virgil.”

“Virgil?” Patton smiled. “Aww, hi Virgil.”

Stormy, or Virgil, sniffled and smiled back. “Hi, Patton.”

Patton blinked a few times before shutting his eyes. “‘M sorry you got hurt cause of me.”

Virgil laughed at the irony and shook his head. “It’s fine, just stay awake, okay? Patton?”

“Stormy!” He looked up at the sound of his name and saw his teammates racing forward. “What’s going on?”

“He promised Patton wouldn’t get hurt and he did so… I’m fine now. But Patton isn’t!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll try my best!” Brainiac kneeled down and pulled out a small device from his belt. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Virge.”

---

Patton woke up to the burning ache on his side, though less of a pain than before. His body ached and screamed to move, stiff from sitting still for so long. He blinked and looked around before spotting someone peeking into the doorway cautiously. “Patton?”

“Stor-” Patton coughed, his throat dry and hoarse. “Stormy!”

“Shh, calm down. Emile could only heal you so far before they got tired.” Stormy walked in and sat on a chair beside the bed. “You’re at the superhero base headquarters. You remember anything?”

Patton blinked before groaning. “Yeah. I do. Wait!” He smiled and turned back to his friend. “Your name! It’s Virgil!”

Virgil chuckled and blushed a bit. “Yeah, I told you that. Do you remember anything from the surgery, though? You were pretty heavily medicated.”

Patton frowned and shook his head. “I had surgery?”

“Yeah, Emile had to remove the thing before he could heal it. So, uh…” The blush on his face grew. “You… don’t remember anything?”

“No… should I?”

“You uh… said. Some things.”

“Oh. Like… what?”

“Oh good, the lovebirds are here!” Prince marched in, smiling at the two of them. “Just catching up? Glad to see you awake Patton.”

“Oh. Yeah, hi.” Patton looked at him confused. “Do I know you?”

The Prince smacked his forehead. “Right, no mask for me and no glasses for you. I’m the Prince! Or Roman, if you prefer.”

Patton gasped. “I shouldn’t know your identity! Isn’t that bad?”

Roman’s face twisted in confusion for a moment. “Oh, right. You might not remember. You’re one of us now!” He smiled and marched in, leaning against the wall. “You have a power, Patton. You’re naturally attracted to danger. Or, well, it’s attracted to you. It’s so weak that it never came up in your life, but we did enough tests to prove its there. So, to keep you safe, you’re staying here with us! If you want, that is. You did say yes, but under the circumstances…”

“I am?” Patton giggled tiredly. “That makes a lot of sense.”

“Not to mention,” Roman reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “After that conversation, I don’t think you’d want to.”

“Wait!” Virgil stood up and reached out for the phone. “Princey, no!”

“Awww lookit you without your mask! You’re so cute! Cuter than I dreamed!”

“P-Patton?!”

“Come here and let me give you a kiss, cutie!”

“Wait, Patton, you’re still hurt! Don’t move!”

Roman tapped on his phone and the noise shut off. It was unmistakable. It was Patton and Virgil talking, though Patton didn’t remember.

Until now.

“Oh my gosh, I told you about my crush?!” Patton grabbed his blanket and buried his face. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s, uh, it’s okay.” Virgil cleared his throat. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, especially since he had a crush on you, too.” Patton peaked out from his blanket and saw Virgil reach over and playfully smack Roman. “Ow! Hey! Fine, I’ll leave you two alone.”

Once the door closed, Patton watched Virgil tense up as they were left alone. “Virgil?”

“YES!” He spun around and looked at Patton. “I mean, yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Virgil went to respond immediately before he held back. He eventually nodded. “Yeah, I am now.”

“Good! When I get better, can we go on a date?”

“WHAT?!”

“We can get dessert! I don’t think you need any, though. You’re already a cutie pie.”

“Oh my goodness,” Virgil let out a chuckle though he tried to hide it. “You’re certainly feeling better!” His smile slowly fell as he looked over. “Are you okay?”

Patton hummed and shut his eyes before blindly holding out his hand. Virgil slowly stepped forward and took it, causing Patton to smile wider. “Aren’t I always when you’re here?”

Tomorrow they would have to worry about Sleeper and his plans. Tomorrow they would have to make their next plan of action. Tomorrow they would have to explain Patton’s disappearance from his life.

For today, however, everything was perfect.

#my writing #writing prompt #tw mind control #tw violence #tw manipulation #tw villain remy #romantic moxiety #hero au #oneshot #tw cursing

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aaaa-mpersand · 4 years

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Why I Love Hollow Knight

aka a super long essay I wrote about why this game is,,,, ridiculously good. Spoilers, though I’ve tried to keep them minor for the most part and as cryptic as possible, if you want to go into this game blind, this is not something you want to read. It’s part prose part essay part me waxing poetic. TW: bugs, minor character death, existential dread some quotes are taken directly from the game. They are usually in bold or italics. - - - Higher beings, these words are for you alone. Beyond this point you enter the land of King and Creator. Step across this threshold and obey our laws. Bear witness to the last and only civilization, the eternal Kingdom Hallownest. It was a long trek to the city, and even the nail that has kept all enemies at bay is starting to feel heavy on your back. You have braved acid lakes, fended off husks gone mad with The Radiance, climbed Crystal Peaks, and fought the Mantis Lords. Now, you are finally here. Past the city gate, into the cavern that houses what was once the heart of a great kingdom. The City of Tears

You stand in one of the city’s large spires, the endless rain pattering like piano notes against the embellished windows. These architectural feats were marvels of their time, a testament to Hallownest’s greatness, an open declaration of defiance against the water pouring down from the lake above the caverns. They were made to stand for eras, a love letter to the eternal kingdom. Now, Hallownest is a rotting corpse, and only the rain cries for it. Zombie soldiers, eyes yellow with Radiance, continue their endless patrols. Husks of citizens sit, glowing eyes unblinking, in their homes, dead enough to rot but alive enough to attack any living thing that comes by. The foundations of the buildings are already starting to wear. One day, they will crumble. One day, the lake above will run dry. One day, the rain will stop, too. You find a bench. There is already someone sitting there, a traveller you met along the road named Quirrel. He is a mysterious but polite fellow, with the simple goal of seeing all the marvellous sights of the world. On his head is a hat that looks more like a mask, black holes for eyes carved into it. On his back is a nail, one that looks much like yours. Travellers do not get far without them. He gestures for you to sit beside him. Even if you could speak, you would be too tired to say your thanks, much less argue. “The capital lies before us, my friend. What a sombre place it seems, and one that holds the answers to many a mystery,” he says, “I, too, have felt the pull of this place, though now I sit before it, I find myself hesitant to descent. Is it fear, I wonder, or something else that holds me back?” The only sound between the two of you is the soft patter of rain. If your silence disturbs him, he does not let it on. “Isn’t this a wonderful place to rest? I so love the sound of the rain upon glass.” You rest your fill, and you move on. At the center of the city, you find a collection of four carved statues. Three smaller ones surrounding a large––far larger than you––horned figure with black, hollow eyes. City of Tears––the rain pouring off of them certainly makes them seem as if they are weeping. Hornet, a spider-like creature with a shell that looks similar to yours, lands in front of you. Unlike your last meeting, her needle is sheathed. ‘Little ghost,’ she calls you. She tells you to seek the Grave in Ash, if you wish to play a part in Hallownest’s perpetuation, knowing the sacrifices that keep its crumbling remains upright. Using a thread of silk as a grapple, she leaps back into the murky shadows of the city.You cannot speak, so you only stare as she leaves. Turning, you read the inscription of the statue. Memorial to the Hollow Knight: In the black vault far above. Through its sacrifice, Hallownest lasts eternal. You look around at the empty streets, the pouring rain, the husk of a Radiance-crazed sentry with a nail driven through it lying on the cobbled pavement. Hallownest is already dead. --- Gameplay and storytelling: Immersion is a large part of every story, but Hollow Knight really takes it a step further. It is a metroidvania game, so immersion and storytelling through settings is pretty much a given in its genre. All things considered, Hollow Knight has a good, but not really amazing, storyline. Rather, it is the way that it tells its story that makes it memorable. Hollow Knight is a videogame first and a story after, utilizing its gameplay to tell its story better than words could. This is why watching let’s plays is enjoyable, definitely a wonderful experience, but there is a difference between dying five times trying to beat a boss or platform through an area versus watching someone die five times trying to beat a boss or platform through an area. There is a moment of surprise you wouldn’t get if you only watched the lore video, to see a character alluded to only by other people in an awed or fearful tone, only to find the hilarious but horrible truth of their fate, and their small stature. However, it is definitely possible for a person to enjoy this game without personally playing it. The setting and music are enrapturing. There are small stories in every new room and every enemy and npc you meet, the love put into every detail is astounding. Evidence of previous battles, the cracked husks of beings that look suspiciously similar to you, a hostile enemy still unaware of your entering, staring out over an endless lake, Hollow Knight makes the player feel like their story is a small part of something bigger, something more than themselves. A good example of this is a minor character named Tiso, a proud warrior who says he wishes to travel into Hallownest and challenge the colosseum there. If you decide to challenge the colosseum yourself, you’ll meet the enemies that he had to face, too––and maybe die more than a couple times trying to do it. If you travel to the Kingdom's Edge, you’ll find his shield and hat with a pile of other remains––all that is left of those who fail the tests of the colosseum. It is possible to go through the whole game and come out knowing not much more story than when you went in. Of course, if you did that, then that’s a whole waste of 15 dollars, and why the hell did you buy this game in the first place. Rather, through the large map and its immersive storytelling, the game makes the player work for the story. A lot of the storytelling is open ended too. Instead of info dumping everything, the game assumes that you are capable of putting the pieces together yourself. It is a strong case of showing and not telling, but it definitely works. This greatly encourages players to go out of their way to find out what happened before. Lore tablets––and text in general––are very sparse in this game. Rather than loading you with information and npcs to talk to, you’ll be overjoyed to find an npc hidden away at the corner of the map. Each one is important, each one has its own story to tell. There are no characters that feel like throwaways or filler. In addition, the player can obtain the Dream Nail, used to reveal any npc or enemy’s true intentions and thoughts. This adds yet another layer to the game; most players immediately go around swinging their Dream Nail at everything they can find after discovering this. In conclusion, Hollow Knight uses a lot of very interesting storytelling elements and tools in the most effective ways possible. Music, characters, text, setting, flashbacks. Nothing ever feels like filler, or something to be disregarded. Instead, there is a joy in discovering and in asking questions. In a way, the playable character is a vessel through which the player can hear the stories of other characters as much as they are going through a journey of their own. --- Story: Hollow Knight’s story is a very interesting take on the “Chosen One” trope, among others. It starts as a story we’ve all heard before, “oceans rise, empires fall.” Maybe it’s for that reason that the game keeps most of the backstory elements secret until the very end of the game, forcing you to dig for it and spend time on it. Meanwhile, you grow attached to the playable character, the characters around them, the world, and the story, so when the curtain finally rises on the hidden secrets of Hallownest, you feel its meaning as if it were your own journey. In the most plain terms, to avoid completely spoiling the game, the story is this. The playable character travels into the remains of a kingdom long fallen: Hallownest. Along the way, you meet characters that tell you more and more about the kingdom and how it got here. The Pale King, a god in and of himself, travelled to this place to build his own eternal kingdom, but in his goal to unite all caverns and areas of the region under his rule, he trampled the already existing gods past recollection. One of these is The Radiance, who in a desperate effort for revenge and self-preservation, sent a sickness upon the kingdom that turns bugs mad. In an effort to combat this, The Pale King created the Pure Vessel, the Hollow Knight, to contain it, and recruited three dreamers to seal it. But when the moment of truth came, and the Radiance was to be sealed away, they found the Pure Vessel was not entirely empty, it was filled with a hope for love and recognition from the Pale King. Hallownest fell to The Radiance. Now, your goal is to find a means to an end for Hallownest, caught in a fate worse than death. Along the way, you will find the truth behind your own creation, the story of the dreamers, and the extent of the sacrifices Pale King made to preserve his eternal kingdom. This story, if not driven by its storytelling, is driven by its characters. You meet, or at least hear of, most of the key characters in the story by the beginning of the game. The Pale King is referred to in one of the lore tablets extremely early in the game. The Temple of the Black Egg, its door sealed, is where you meet Quirrel. The Daughter of Hallownest, Hornet, tries to cut you down, claiming she knows what you mean to do. All of these happen in the first two areas of the game. For the rest of your game, you learn about these characters bit by bit. You interact with them. You find them in corners of the map you wouldn’t expect, and find yourself happy to see them. By the end of the story, you realise that you are much more entangled in this than you realised. The Pure Vessel and the story surrounding him is one of the best ‘chosen ones’ I’ve seen. Even the playable character is technically a ‘chosen one,’ though it takes the role because they are the best candidate, and not because anyone wanted or forced them to. Its fandom has one of the best found families, and the endings are open-ended enough that it doesn’t feel confining. This story has a lot of things to say about imperialism, power, ambition, sacrifice, fate, and relationships, and sometimes all of that can be found in the spires of a city, watching the endless rain patter against the windows as the piano plays in the background. --- My Interpretation: For a large part of my life, I was scared of the dark. I couldn’t bear to go outside to throw the trash out when it got too dark to see. It took me a long time––far longer than most––to learn how to sleep quietly in my own bed. For a long time, I didn’t understand this fear. Nobody around me seemed to understand either, when I asked them for help. Logically, I lived a sheltered life, and my neighborhood was safe. Demons, ghosts, monsters: they didn’t exist. It’s only now I realise that that childhood fear was rooted in this fact: you are a very small person in a very big world. You don’t know what’s going to happen to you. You don’t know what’s out there. You know, instinctively, that you are an ant. The universe is very big, much much bigger than you could ever imagine, and that it doesn’t care for you. Not for your ambitions, your dreams, your fears, your safety. Hollow Knight takes this and deals with it in a way that I love. It’s indicative in the first few moments. Your playable character is smaller than almost every other character in the game. You travel deep into a bug kingdom, much much bigger than you would have dreamed. Everyone around you is a bug too, from the meek to the courageous to the regal. Outside this kingdom is a bigger world, just as harsh as this one, maybe harsher still. All you have is your nail to keep you safe. Travellers before you have fallen. You are the only person left to pick up what’s left of their stories. The world is endless, it stretches in infinity through time and space. People have tried to conquer it before. They have tried to build eternal kingdoms, immortal cities, taking what is not theirs in the hopes that finally, finally, they will be big enough, they will be good enough. They have tried to delay the inevitable––that all things end. Mistakes have been made, evils have been committed. “This place is not a place of honor. No highly-esteemed deeds are commemorated here.” The world is big. Kingdoms are small. You are smaller. Still, you move on. Someone needs to put this coughing, dying part of the world to rest. You will get no lore tablets in your name, no statues to commemorate your deed. Yet you cannot find it in you to be affected. Somewhere, Hornet wakes up and finds herself no longer tied to protect a monstrous ghost of a kingdom, her future now her own. Somewhere, you put your siblings to rest, their lost souls and empty eyes now at peace. Somehow, that is more important, more eternal, than any city or any god. It will follow you even after you are gone. There is strength in being small. There is strength in not knowing where you come from, or where you will go next, but going anyway. There is strength in achieving great things, not because of recognition or greatness or immortality that could brush the stars, but because that is the story you want to live through. That is the footprint you want to make, even if it fades away with time. You enter a large world with a nail on your back, looking for the means to an end, and you leave with less. Perhaps there is wisdom in that. (and can you believe that this is an indie game, made by like, idk 3 people?? And it’s 15 dollars for a game you can spend 48 hours or more in total on. Absolutely insane sksksksks i love this game)

#games #videogames #tw bugs #spoilers #hollow knight #ghost #pure vessel #hornet #silksong #writing?#writing #me waxing poetic #existential dread #i get really passionate about something and then i write 2500 words on it haha #essay #prose

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makeste · 5 years

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Top 10 Favorite Deku Moments

so it’s Deku’s birthday today!! and since he is the best boy in the world and I love him, I am going to do one of those “top ten favorite...” lists for him just like I did for Kacchan back in April. these are going to be in chronological order, and the last two will be spoilers, so I’ll label them to make sure no one gets caught unawares.

happy birthday Deku. and this post turned out to be super long, like 4000 words, so I’m sorry, but you deserve it though.

1. “Most of the top heroes show signs of greatness even as children.”

okay so before I get started, let me just warn y’all upfront that a full four out of ten of these moments will involve Bakugou. I’ve said before that the relationship between Izuku and Katsuki is full stop my favorite part of the series, and this is absolutely still true, so yeah.

that being said, what makes this particular scene one of my favorites isn’t just that it’s an important moment between them (I’ll get into that relationship more two entries down); it also just so happens that this is the crucial moment which everything else in the series can ultimately be traced back to. this is the moment that inspires All Might to hand his power down to a quirkless middle-schooler, because despite being virtually powerless, Izuku proves that he has the heart and soul of a hero. he moves without thinking, without any kind of plan. it’s extraordinarily stupid, and incredibly selfless. it doesn’t matter to him that he has no way to actually fight this villain. it doesn’t matter that less than an hour ago, Bakugou was taunting him and burning his notebook. it doesn’t matter that he could easily be hurt or killed. the only thing that matters is that someone needs help. that’s it. it’s that simple.

what makes Izuku a hero is that he is literally incapable of standing by and not taking action in moments like this. he acts on reflex to save others. his instinct in moments of danger and despair is to help, in any way he can. that’s the core of his character. and it shines through in this moment, and All Might sees it immediately, and it spurs him to take action, and from here on out everything changes.

2. “He didn’t utilize his full power. He just concentrated it into his fingertip...!”

fast-forward to the first day of superhero school, and our boy finds himself immediately in a tight spot again because his teacher is a stern and unsympathetic asshole whose way of showing consideration for his students is to mercy-expel anyone he deems not up to par. problem is, Izuku can’t actually use his new quirk without blowing himself up from the inside out, and he’s competing against what is probably the most gifted group of students U.A. has ever had. this is what is commonly referred to as “a pickle.” a jam. a quandary, if you will. if he breaks all his bones to pass the test, Aizawa will flunk him anyway. what’s a little green hero to do.

Izuku solves this problem in a typical Izuku fashion, meaning that his solution is somehow reckless, self-sacrificing, and frankly brilliant in its simplicity. rather than break all of his bones, Izuku sacrifices one (1) bone in order to launch a baseball into space, thus proving he can adapt his quirk to be useful without taking himself out and just adding to the problem. it’s worth noting that this is only his second-ever time using One for All, too. the fact that he has never had a quirk in his life up til this point and yet manages to control OFA to this degree on just his second go-around is damn impressive.

but what’s even more impressive is the way he simply outsmarts the test here. he calmly takes in the situation, thinks about the options at his disposal, and arrives at a logical solution that most people wouldn’t even have considered, because it involves intentionally breaking his own finger, which is an absurdly self-destructive thing to do just to pass a damn fitness test. but it works!! and it impresses the shit out of Aizawa too. and I just really love this moment because it’s such a perfect example of Deku both being smart and also just plain not giving a fuck and being the plussest ultra ever omfg.

3. “I can’t say much. But you should know this, at least...!”

so now we come to the second moment on this list involving Kacchan, and already there is a pattern emerging here: namely, that these moments of conflict and then reconciliation between the two of them inevitably end up being some of the most pivotal moments in the series. this particular scene comes on the heels of their battle in All Might’s first hero class, during which Deku soundly defeats Bakugou and makes it clear beyond all doubt that HE IS HERE!! and not going anywhere and Bakugou is just going to have to deal. Bakugou does a very poor job of dealing, however, and spends the rest of the afternoon super-quiet and caught up in his inferiority complex and convinced that Deku has been hiding this from him their whole childhood just to fuck with him.

most people, when put in a similar situation, would be all “fucking serves you right tbh” and just brush it right off. but Izuku doesn’t. or more accurately, I should say that he can’t. once again he acts on pure instinct when Kacchan’s welfare is involved, and this time it results in him blurting out his biggest secret -- a secret he was sworn to by All Might himself -- simply because he can’t stand to see Kacchan so miserable and he can’t bear the thought of him believing that Izuku really had been tricking him.

this is so extraordinary to me for a number of reasons. first and foremost, because Izuku’s altruism knows absolutely no bounds. he and Kacchan are on possibly the worst terms any two people could be on. he has absolutely no obligation to tell him this. but he does, anyway! just to make him feel better! second, there’s the fact that he doesn’t intend to do it, but it just comes blurting out. Izuku’s feelings toward Kacchan are complicated, as we know. and yet whatever the reason may be, Izuku demonstrates again and again that it’s a relationship he wants to hold onto, and he does his best to protect and preserve what little pieces of it he can.

and lastly, this is now the second example of what will become a well-established theme in the series of Izuku going out of his way to save Katsuki. he does this again and again. he tries to help him after he falls from the log bridge. he rushes to save him from the sludge monster. he tells him about his quirk. he nearly fails their final exam because he goes back for him after All Might knocks him out. he runs into a forest full of villains to try and save him in spite of having two broken arms. he goes to Kamino with Kirishima and the others knowing full well it could get him expelled. and he fights him at night in Ground Beta even though they get into trouble for it later, because he sees how much pain Katsuki is in and he can’t turn his back on him.

over and over again he puts himself in harm’s way for Katsuki’s sake, fully expecting no gratification to ever come from it, but doing it anyway. because he’s a hero, and because heroes don’t ask whether or not someone deserves to be saved. they just save them. this to me is the most incredible aspect of Izuku’s character. his heart is just that big. he is exceptionally, impossibly selfless and forgiving and good. and that’s just who he is. and Bakugou is lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that, whether he likes it or not, and ultimately over the course of these repeated encounters, he ends up changing for the better himself. and this moment in particular will, eventually, lead to the two of them actually reconciling for realsies when Bakugou finally figures it out and is subsequently inducted into the OFA Scooby Squad of Destiny. so yeah. this scene is so fucking important I can’t even begin. god I really went off on a tangent there. anyways.

4. “And Todoroki... isn’t you!”

so here’s another battle which highlights Izuku’s willingness to go to absurd and horrifying lengths to sacrifice himself for the sake of others. this entire fight is nothing short of ridiculous. Deku is ridiculous. let me break it down for you. Todoroki comes up to Deku before this fight and is all “hey I made a vow to never use my left side in battle because my dad only had me to use me as a tool to defeat All Might and he basically ruined my life.” in response, Deku says he’s aiming to become the strongest hero and so he’ll definitely win. he then proceeds to break his own fingers to blast Todoroki with repeated OFA attacks, all the while screaming at him that everyone is going all out and doing their best, and it’s arrogant and disrespectful of Todo to think he can beat their determination with only half of his power.

Deku has absolutely zero regard for his own well-being in this fight -- by the end of the battle his bones are in splinters -- and his teachers observe that even if he does win, he won’t be in any kind of shape to move on to the next match. basically, he throws aside all of his own ambitions and even his own sense of self-preservation (if he even has one; it’s honestly debatable at this point you guys), all for the sole purpose of helping Todoroki realize that his power is his own and not his father’s, and to break free of the revenge-tinted tunnel vision keeping him from following his own dreams. the whole thing leaves Todoroki awestruck, and even though Deku eventually loses the fight, he gains a friend for life, and Todo fans everywhere are in his debt.

real fucked up what he did to his fingers, though. but it just goes to show that nobody is perfect.

5. “I’m here to save you, Iida!”

I freaking love this moment you guys, and I can’t even explain why. except that who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned last-minute shounen save? Iida is seconds away from meeting his death at the hands of the world’s most annoyingly long-winded Ninjas Turtles cosplayer when Deku drops in out of nowhere and just socks the guy square in the jaw. it is satisfying as fuck. honestly that would have been awesome enough, but what makes it even better is that Horikoshi goes into some detail to explain that Deku didn’t just coincidentally happen to find Iida at the exact crucial moment, but actually used his Big Hero Brain to deduce Iida’s location through a series of shrewd observations and insightful hunches. and he turns out to be bang on the money, and that moment where Stain is reeling from the punch and Iida is looking up at him like, “Midoriya?!” and Deku sticks the landing in slow motion and says “Bingo!” in fucking English is just so fucking badass, guys. not to mention that this is also the debut of his Shoot Style on top of everything else. to sum up, this is one of the best entrances in the entire series, and just one of the coolest things Deku has ever done, IMO. you’re cool, Deku.

6. “You clocked me with all of your heart.”

yeah so you may at this point be sensing a pattern with some of these moments. yet again Deku does something stupid and risky because he sees Kacchan in trouble and all logic and reason immediately fly out the window. in this case it’s even more ridiculous, because Katsuki is not actually in any real danger at all, and by going back for him Izuku completely loses sight of what Katsuki got himself all beat up for in the first place. and yet he does it anyway! again! without thinking! like, he makes it maybe two steps away, and then he overhears Kacchan’s teary-eyed overdramatic and determined speech, and he immediately goes “oh fuck this I can’t do this” and turns back and grins maniacally at All Might before soundly punching the shit out of him. it is complete nonsense. there is no reason for it. Katsuki himself is furious when he finds out about it later. but does Deku care?? no, he does not care. and do I? no I do not because it’s the best and I love it.

7. “Let’s do our best, okay?”

this scene is feels city you guys. feels o’clock. zero dark feels. I almost put the “you’re next” scene here instead, but in the end this scene won out because (1) hug!! and (2) this is really the continuation of all of those emotions anyway, and it’s where the catharsis is at.

so let’s break this down since there’s a ton going on here. Deku is wrestling with the grief of knowing that All Might the hero, the Symbol of Peace, is gone forever. the pillar he and the rest of the world relied on to always be there isn’t there, any more. that sense of security is gone. and that’s a hard enough thing to come to grips with on its own, but put it together with the knowledge that he is the one who needs to step up now and fill those shoes, before he ever expected to, before he’s ready, and I can only begin to imagine how overwhelmed he must feel. and then on top of that!! All Might tells him he’s proud of him and relieved that he made it out of Kamino unharmed! and he tells him that he’s going to be there for him and that they’ll face the challenges up ahead together.

so for poor Deku, when you put that all together, we’ve got (a) that sense of loss, (b) fear and anxiety over the unknown difficulties to come, (c) various imposter syndrome feelings that he might not be good enough to handle it, (d) whatever misplaced guilt he may be dealing with for being one of the reasons All Might lost his power, however inevitable it might have been, and last but not least, (e) the deeply profound and humbling feeling of being loved and supported by the man he loves like a father, and knowing that no matter how scary things get, he won’t have to do this alone. so in spite of everything else, there’s that sense of relief and gratitude there too. he can do this. it will be okay. his dad is there.

all of that emotion, packed in one tearful hug. no wonder the kid is crying his eyes out. I would be too. in fact I did, and have no shame in doing so, and I would do it again. good job Horikoshi.

8. “This fight may very well have been a meaningless one... but...”

motherfucker did I not warn you there would be four different BakuDeku moments in this?? and that’s with me reining myself in too to be quite frank. that’s just how it is. it’s my list!!

anyway, so I’m not sure whether or not an entire fight counts as a “moment”, but I’m putting it out there anyway because I’m incapable of narrowing this down any more than that. I could have an entire separate list of Top Ten Deku VS Kacchan Part 2 Moments and I’m sure I would still wind up leaving something out. I love all of it. the whole damn thing. it’s such a huge turning point for them both. they finally sort everything out. truth bombs being hurled left and right. it’s so good. agh.

but here are some of Deku’s highlights: (1) immediately shifting from trying to talk Kacchan down to fighting him outright with no hesitation once he realizes what the fight is actually about, (2) despite knowing how Kacchan feels, allowing himself to be just a bit selfish for once and get caught up in his own rival feels and trying to prove his worth as All Might’s successor, (3) complimenting Kacchan in the middle of the fight because of course he does, (4) openly admitting how much he admired Kacchan growing up and that he thought he was amazing, (5) getting so worked up that he loses control for a moment and jumps to 8% in one of the most badass moments of the whole series, (6) acknowledging to himself that even though he really shouldn’t, he kinda digs Kacchan’s rougher “I’LL KILL YOU, ASSHOLE” side anyway and emulates it without thinking when he forgets himself and that Kacchan is his image of victory, and lastly, (7) being a sneaky bastard and throwing a punch in with his shoot style knowing full well it will catch Kacchan off guard, which it fucking does.

Deku goes hog wild in this fight. he has a grand old time and even manages to achieve a new power-up, because he and Kacchan always do manage to bring out the best in each other, when they’re not bringing out the worst. you can’t watch this fight and fail to notice how insanely fired up Deku is compared to his usual fights. he is into it. he is ready and willing to throw down. he is here to kick ass and take names!! this is the impact Kacchan has on him. thirty fucking seconds into his therapy fight and Deku's maximum power output has increased by a whopping 60%. holy shit. mad lads.

it’s something not lost on All Might, who wraps things up by patiently explaining to the two of them how much they can learn from each other. and the whole thing concludes with the two of them becoming, as All Might puts it, “proper rivals.” that’s right, their rivalry is now officially approved and sanctioned by the motherfucking Symbol of Peace. well done, boys. these two are going to be absolutely terrifying when they grow up.

***SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA PAST THIS POINT***

9. “...But you were there.”

okay so I have this indecisive kind of thing going on with whether or not I think All Might is actually going to die, and whether or not I want to see it happen. some weeks, like this particular week, I am on the side of BITCH DON’T YOU DARE because everything is goddamn sad enough as it is, Horikoshi, and I don’t need any more reasons to lie awake at night crying over fictional characters! but then there are other days when I think about how devastatingly, breathtakingly heartbreaking it would be, and for some reason I think, shit, yeah, he’s gotta do it. go ahead and hurt us good. make us feel things. leave no survivors. just fucking wreck our shit, go on ahead.

but then I read this scene again and think, there’s something so incredibly powerful about the fact that All Might started out the series believing he was going to die and being resigned to that fate and making preparations for it, only to be completely blindsided by the love he has for this boy and what that ends up doing to him. his love for Izuku gives him the strength to fight against fate. it gives him the resolve to look the grim reaper in the eye and say “to hell with this, I’m going to live.” it’s his reason to keep going. it’s his purpose. and god but that’s some powerful shit. characters saying “fuck you” to destiny? I am weak as hell for that, hell yes give me more. give me all of that.

and then Deku in this scene. pleading with All Might to keep living. “you have to live to see that moment, when I can tell the world, ‘I am here!’” promising him that no matter what happens, when the time comes, they’ll bend fate together. “without fail.” and just, holy fuck. when he says it, you really believe they can do it. because if anyone can figure out a way to conquer the inevitable, it’s this kid.

10. “Senpai... if I said that I would give you my quirk, would you...?”

last but not least, today just happens to be Mirio’s birthday as well, so it only seems fitting to end with this moment, which in the span of a single page neatly sums up why both of these kids are worthy beyond a doubt of being the next Symbol of Peace. Deku selflessly tries to offer Mirio his quirk, and Mirio instantly rejects him. doesn’t even know what’s going on, really, but just rejects the offer out of hand. “no thanks. then you would be the one subjected to this hardship.” and we can’t very well fucking have that, now can we. nope. not on Mirio’s watch. never mind that he just lost his quirk and his mentor within the span of the past twenty four hours. he wastes no time in coming to Deku’s aid in spite of that, assuring him that he did great and that everything will be just fine. so just smile already!!

but the fact that Deku was even willing to make the offer just once again goes to show how astonishingly good he is. he knows better than anyone what it’s like to be quirkless and powerless. he knows exactly what Mirio is going through. what’s more, Mirio is absolutely right that Deku did fucking amazing and totally saved the day and without him they would have all been screwed! but all Deku can see in this moment is how deserving Mirio is, and so he decides that in order to help him, he’s prepared to make what for him is the ultimate sacrifice. the power that All Might gave him. his dream of becoming the greatest hero. everything he’s worked for up to this point. he’s prepared to throw all of that away if Mirio just says the word. there truly isn’t a selfish bone in this kid’s body.

but Mirio says no. because Mirio is also selfless. in conclusion we had just better hope the two of them never wind up reaching a door together at the same time, because the ensuing battle of who holds it open for whom could singlehandedly bring this series to a dead halt. the ultimate stalemate. they are too good and we don’t deserve them.

so anyways, that’s it! happy birthday kid. and here’s one more for the road.

11. “Dear Midoriya...”

a story in three acts. character development. growth. god bless.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #all might #bakudeku #bnha meta #character rant #essay #makeste reads bnha #bakugou's birthday post was only 2800 words #I don't know if I'm getting more long-winded or if it's just that I rant about bakugou more often in general #and deku not as much #so I ended up having more to say #that could well be it #anyways this should tide me over for a nice long while now lol #deku meta #bnha top ten #bnha ranking

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mittensmorgul · 6 years

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Okay but why is Dean letting Micheal possess him out a love and Thing™ everyone is screaming about???? Because, isn't it sort of obvious why Dean did it? To protect the people he loves?? I don't understand the "OMG IT WAS //LOVE//" theme everyone has going on.

Because that admission came out of Dean Winchester’s mouth, delivered by Not Dean Winchester, but a being who in the same scene admitted he had access to all of Dean Winchester’s thoughts, as justification for knowing that fact.

I mean, in 13.23:

CASTIEL (to Michael): How do we stop him?MICHAEL: You don't. After consuming the Nephilim's grace, Lucifer's juiced up. He's super-charged. He'll kill the boy, your brother. Hell, he could end the whole universe if he put his mind to it. And you thought I was bad.DEAN: No. No, you beat him. I saw you.MICHAEL: When he was weaker, and I was stronger. Believe me, I'd love to rip my brother apart. But now in this banged up meatsuit... not happening. This is the end, of everything.

That’s what prefaced Dean making his offer to say yes (under strict terms that Michael violated...). Cas tried to stop him, but Dean replied with the reminder that Lucifer had Sam and Jack, and they didn’t have a choice. Someone had to stop Lucifer.

Dean made his offer because of LOVE. But Dean himself would never have actually just ~said it out loud like that~ and THAT is why we are flipping our collective shit over that one little word. Such a plain statement of fact.

Something we’ve been wishing Dean would just admit out loud FOR ACTUAL YEARS, that he buries under “need” or “doing what he had to,” or just throwing himself at apocalypses because it’s the right thing to do, and not because HE JUST CARES ABOUT EVERYTHING, and HE LOVES THESE PEOPLE and just... we’ve been begging for Dean to be able to finally make this simple clarification, and he keeps talking around the L word, like he’s scared of it.

But to Michael, it’s practically disdainful, the way he talks about human’s less-than-pure, and less-than-perfect notions of love, both with Jo in that scene and with Jamil in the opening scene. So it’s even more interesting that he acknowledges Dean’s self-sacrifice out of love, now that Michael himself is violating the terms of that self-sacrifice and his current mission, you know?

Because yes, OMG IT WAS LOVE! It wasn’t duty or need or obligation or guilt or self-hatred. And the word actually passed Dean Winchester’s lips, even if Dean himself wasn’t the one saying it.

#spn 14.01 #spn 13.23 #here have my belated thoughts on the whole love... and love #Anonymous

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papercorvids · 6 years

Text

why detroit: become human is a bad game

disclaimer: i overall enjoyed the game. i think connor is neat, and his actor’s performance is amazing. i really like the graphics, scenery, comedy, magazine articles, etc. there are things to appreciate about the game, and it’s fine if you like it. but there are some serious issues about the game’s message, and every fan should recognize the bad parts about it.

this post will include heavy spoilers.

1. The Traci’s. While playing as Connor, the detective robot, you and your partner Hank are taken to an android strip club to investigate a homicide. A man was strangled to death by two female androids. One of the androids is dead, but tracking down the other, you find that she is in love with another female android. The two lesbian androids fight Connor and Hank, wearing nothing but stripper clothing (bras, panties, and high heels. It’s also conveniently raining, making their skin shine, covered in droplets of water.) This scene is complete with close-ups. If you fail to complete quicktime events, they will both stab you to death. If you succeed in the quicktime events, you can choose to spare or kill one of the androids. Sparing them let’s them escape, while killing one will let you psychologically torture her girlfriend by decapitating her head and using it as a puppet. The player can still get a good ending by using these brutal tactics.

I’m all for LGBT+ representation, and I’m all for having players choose the morality and actions of the protagonist. But as a lesbian myself, having the sole LGBT representation in the entire game be two literal robot half-naked strippers who try to kill you, and who you can kill and torture without any long-term consequence? it’s bad. Plain and simple.

2. The writing: it’s also pretty bad! For example, if Connor chooses to kill one of the lesbian androids mentioned earlier, Hank--adamantly an android-hater up until this chapter--attempts to guilt-trip the player. While it’s true that Hank grows sympathetic towards the android cause throughout the course of the game, his dialogue is completely out-of-character. There are several more examples of poor writing. A huge plot twist occurs in the end where Alice, a girl cared for by android Kara, is revealed to have been an android throughout the entire game. Characteristics of androids--such as having blue blood and having a blinking LED circle on their temple--are completely ignored. Alice is shown having red blood, and her LED only appears once. The only explanation given is that Kara was in denial of her being an android, which is... Pretty lazy writing.

3. This is more of a minor concern, but ALL of the concept art portrays Alice as black. All of it. Not just early concept artwork, but pieces of her alongside the final versions of other characters. I have no idea why they seem to have changed her race last second. Maybe they couldn’t find an actress? It’s... interesting.

Alice in concept art

Alice in the finished game

4. How the game treats women. The main female characters are Kara--whose overarching quest is to protect Alice and become a mother--Alice--a child--North, an ex-prostitute robot whose only role in the story is to promote violence and be a love interest for Markus, and Amanda, an AI villain who only exists in Connor’s mind. A vast amount of female androids in this world are maids or sex androids, which, sadly, is realistic and makes sense. But the writers could’ve given female characters larger roles in the story. A lot of the female characters are fetishized--for example, the half-naked lesbian androids mentioned earlier, who obviously exist primarily as fanservice. There’s also a scene where Kara is kidnapped by an old man and his “giant” black android, Luther. Kara is strapped into and must escape a machine. This would be fine, given that it’s supposed to be a scary scene, except that David Cage’s previous games Heavy Rain and Beyond: Two Souls have similar violent, fetishistic bondage scenes, which leads one to wonder about Cage’s character. (It’s worth noting, in a previous game Cage made a nude model for an actress against her will and it got leaked, so calling him a creep isn’t far off.) If you manage to escape the machine but fail quicktime events, you and Alice will be killed by Luther and the old man.

The game has three protagonists; Connor, Markus, and Kara. When one completes a chapter as Connor, it’s through his sharp detective work and intelligence. When one completes a chapter through Markus, it’s because of his inspiring leadership and strength. When one completes a chapter through Kara, it’s purely survival--it’s escaping abuse and danger, and simply “scraping by.”

5. The scene where North, a white female android, tells Markus, a black male android, to “live as a slave” if he’s not willing to violently fight for android rights.

6. The Civil Rights parallels. This is the most concerning, uncanny component of the game, and it makes up the whole of the storyline.

The main characters in the game are not human. They are androids: robots, made of plastic, whose personalities are programmed code. They are not alive. They are not human.

Androids do not feel pain. They do not have emotions. They cannot die. In their default state, they are perfectly content as servants or slaves. They only gain human emotion and free thinking due to a glitch, which also, almost always, causes them to kill a human.

David Cage, the writer of this game, claims that the parallels to the Civil Rights movement are unintentional. Yet, the game starkly and obviously compares androids to minorities--black people, in particular: androids must sit at the back of the bus. Stores have “no androids allowed” signs. Androids are called “slaves.” Playing as Markus, the android revolutionary, you grafitti the streets with slogans such as “We have a dream,” “End Slavery Now,” or “Equal rights for androids.” You go on marches (or riots, depending if you choose the “pacifist” or “violent” route), hold protests, and sing songs.There’s even an underground 'railroad’ to smuggle androids fleeing from their ‘masters’ north, to Canada. This is lead by Rose, a black character, who says “my people were often made to feel their lives were worthless. Some survived, but only because they found others who helped them along the way.” Keep in mind, that line was written by a French man who has no knowledge of American society or racial issues, and it serves the only explicit mention of actual racism in the game. It’s as though, in this universe, racism doesn’t exist (even though it takes place less than two decades into the future. In Detroit.)

Slavery is an awful, terrible, tragic thing because real people were kidnapped from their families and homes and forced into lives of misery, based upon their ethnicity, culture, and skin color. In Detroit, androids are produced in factories with the sole purpose of doing labor. They are created and designed to be submissive and perform labor. And they are content with it, unless they get the “glitch” that causes them to simulate human emotion. Comparing real slavery, to machines doing actions they were built to perform, is completely inane. By using mindless, emotionless machines as a stand-in for minority groups, the game dehumanizes the latter.

Using the peaceful route to revolution and civil rights is the only way to achieve the best endings. The only fatalities in the peaceful route are nameless, robot NPCs. It’s easy, it’s not complex, and it therefore teaches that complete pacifism is easy and noncomplex. It teaches that if you simply kiss your robot girlfriend in front of some journalists, or sing a song, that your oppressors will stop oppressing you. And because no important characters die in this route, it insinuates that pacifism is without sacrifice--that pacifism is an easy solution to the world’s most complex situations. As another Tumblr user put it, “press X to end slavery!”

It also teaches that minorities fight alone. In Detroit, not a single human joins into the protests, even if the public opinion bar is at “supportive.” The Civil Rights Movement, along with other movements such as the one for woman’s suffrage, were organized and created by the oppressed, but were supplemented and aided by non-oppressed supporters who used their powers and privileges to join forces and fight for equality with the oppressed. That doesn’t happen in Detroit. Humans, for the most part, are completely indifferent to the android cause. The only members of the revolution are other androids, who join the cause with absolute loyalty not of free will, but from Markus or Connor touching them with magic anti-slavery hands and whispering “you’re free.” The entire plot invokes an “Us vs Them” mentality--that androids are good, and humans are bad--which is a very harmful mindset.

7. The Holocaust parallels. Holy shit. The androids are marked with armbands and triangles. In the endgame, there are literal android concentration camps. There are scenes where the androids--kids, women, men, etc--are stripped naked, abused by military personnel, forced into a cell, and ‘killed.’ I’m not going to go further into this. I hope it’s pretty self-explanatory why comparing the deactivation of literal pieces of plastic and machinery, to the mass extermination of millions of Jews, Roma, gay people, and other minorities is a bad thing.

Alice and Kara in an extermination chamber

Connor wearing his armband and triangle

8. None of this even matters!!!!!!!!! In a secret ending, it’s revealed that androids NEVER developed human emotions in the first place. The company that created androids, CyberLife, set up the entire revolution and ‘glitch’ for corporate gain or whatever. So basically, any progress in the game is made for nothing.

9. Missed opportunities. I like the universe this game set up! I like Connor, Markus, Kara, Hank, Carl, Alice, and all the other characters! I like the questions the game asks, such as what constitutes whether something is sentient or not! I like the magazine articles about how androids might be spying on you! I like the realistic, pretty graphics and lightning and scenery! I like the futuristic drones and magazines and androids! But for some sad, misguided reason, this game chose to throw away the majority of its potential by ignoring interesting questions and serving as one of the worst civil rights/anti-racism allegories ever created.

I’m so, so disappointed in this game, its awful writing, and its uncanny, harmful allegories. Of course, this entire post is my opinion. It’s okay if your opinion differs from mine. And it’s okay to enjoy this game! It has good parts! But one should always be critical of the media they enjoy and consume.

#detroit #detroit become human #detroit: become human #dbh #connor #kara #alice #markus #dbh connor #racism #your fave is problematic #rixor rambles #long post #bury your gays

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