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cosmos-daughter · 11 months ago

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Resident Evil Village could've been the perfect game if the Lords were treated right.

Despite it being an enjoyable game and one of my favorites, it is undeniably rather unsatisfactory in some aspects. I can't help but grieve all that we could've had if it was better in one specific aspect. More specifically: story-wise. For the first time since the RE5/RE6 era, Capcom decided to make another story oriented Resident Evil game, and the result was as expected: lacking in many ways.

There are parts of the story that could make the game much more interesting if they focused more on it. The biggest issue and my main complaint is the character waste. Without an exception, all of the Lords were underutilized and presented in a very shallow manner, even the one that had more participation in the story. This detail weighs as a immense negative point on the game's overall quality, since they technically play a huge role in the story and make up most of the content of the game. With the exception of Moreau — who's too far gone and barely has any intelligence left ー all of them could've had more depth and maybe even a character development. They do possess the required qualities: captivating characters — cool designs, their own detailed and customized areas that are somewhat a reflection of their unique personalities — but even with all of that, none reached their peak due being robbed of the exploration of the themes that could add realness and authenticity to the characters such as their past/background, motivations, etc. So regardless of how promising they look, since we haven't seen beyond their surface and don't know understand and know enough about the characters, they end up slightly shallow and simple. The consequence of this lack of humanization is that in the end they didn't receive an ounce of dignity/empathy even in their deaths. A cruel fate that feels even harsher when you remember that all the Lords were once normal people that just happened to be victims of Miranda's evil scheme.

It feels terribly frustrating to see a good character go down without being fully explored, especially on Alcina's case, since she was a character that everyone had high expectations for, because she was used as a marketing strategy to attract the public by being the focus of the game's demo and trailer. Everyone was interested in Village because of the beautiful tall vampire lady, but turns out she appears only in the beginning and barely has significance in the rest of the story. I didn't expect a redemption for her, it would be unrealistic and out of nowhere ー the game made clear that she's more inclined towards evil than morally-grey by the way she and her daughters are unnecessarily cruel and see the villagers like nothing but food stock, so it would indeed be difficult to create a situation in which she cooperated with Ethan, even if he hadn't killed her daughters — and her blind loyalty to Mother Miranda also makes this nearly impossible; so I agree that redemption or a change of heart seems out of the question for her, but still... making her the first to die after hyping her up that much was quite anti-climatic. The least they could do to honor her was make her be one of the last characters to go, so she could hunt Ethan until the end for avenging her daughters. It would make more sense for her to die just before Heisenberg's section, or literally anything instead of killing her off during the first twenty minutes of gameplay and never bringing her up again as if she's insignificant. Amongst all the countless existing possibilities for her, they decided to follow the worst and less satisfying route.

Now, the next topic and the true reason why I'm obsessed with this game despite everything: Karl Heisenberg. Imagine giving us one of the best characters in the whole franchise: a hot dilf coded villain with a dark, tragic past and a problematic personality that still shows signs of redeeming qualities, and then preceding to completely waste all of his potential as both: a possible ally, and a character, by not exploring the depth of his person. If there's any character that should've had redemption in this story, it was Karl. What is the point of adding the detail of his secret disloyalty and quiet hatred for Miranda if that wouldn't make any difference in the end, because Ethan doesn't even consider his offer for a partnership and we're forced to kill him either way? Why give him a whole character arc (if you can even call it that) focused on his disdain for his fake Mother, who happens to be the main villain, and not give him a chance of joining the protagonist's side when they both share the same enemy? I think the reason is simply lazy writing.

Not that he has to be a good person to be on the good side, but it's also implied he wasn't evil like Dimitrescu, who drained people of their blood and cannibalized their flesh, or Moreau, who coldly experimented on the living. Karl experimented solely on the dead, and while definitely unethical, he didn't directly inflict pain on anyone ー and that makes me assume that he's a morally grey character who's done bad things, and while he's definitely not the most moral man on earth, still has a line and humanity. But since dear Capcom decided to not give us any lore, we'll never know more. Regardless, it's still understandable why Heisenberg acts the way he does. It's only the consequences of living the nightmarish hell of having to constantly humiliate yourself by serving the person you despise the most, your worst enemy in the shape of a Mother — the very same person who stole your freedom and turned you into nothing but a puppet, a monster, a weapon. All this time, he was just fighting to recover his stolen freedom, fueled by his raw hatred for this woman who stripped him of his dignity, hurt his pride, and took his autonomy away by force. But in the end, he witnessed all he worked so hard for in flames in front of him as he died alone under the freezing rain, in the same hell he wanted so badly to escape. His fate was merciless and cold, even for someone who had their hands dirty.

You can argue that some Lords deserved their fates if you want, but the unfairness of Donna's is undeniable. She truly did nothing wrong and was just a victim. Her gardener's diary entries prove that she's always been a gentle and lonely person, and the fact that even after being infected with the Cadou and gaining hallucinogenic abilities all she wanted to do was people meet with their late loved ones one more time only further proves her goodness. She has nothing but old dolls in her house, it's so painfully clear that she didn't bother anyone and lived a quiet, melancholic life by the waterfall, where she was isolated from everyone else. Donna deserved better than to die alongside her dusty dolls, left to be forgotten forever.

The point I meant to make clear by now is that these characters being villains didn't stop me from feeling affection for them, it never does. So even if surviving wasn't a possibility, I wish we had at least seen more of their human side, lives aside from Miranda, or their past before getting locked away in the village by her. There were so many things, small details that I wanted to know about them — what's their age? Birthday? Any family left? Friends? Past lovers? Was Dimitrescu always this heartless? When did Moreau's intelligence start deteriorating? When exactly did Heisenberg realize that Miranda was manipulative and didn't love them and never saw them as her family? How did he manage, unlike his siblings, to see through her manipulation? The way Heisenberg speaks of Miranda sounds more similar to someone who's been hurt instead of someone that's always hated their current enemy, especially because of the line "She doesn't care for us, no. Her humanity is long gone. I must destroy her." That leaves me with so many unanswered questions, there's so much I wanted to know. But for sure what I wanted the most on this whole story was for them to have at least received a little bit of empathy, instead of being referred as monsters all the time. As a player and someone who enjoys the characters, it feels unfair to hear that. They were people too.

Now that I've talked about all the characters, I think it's important to emphasize that despite it being annoying to watch good characters being underutilized, none of that would be a surprise if this was just another typical Resident Evil game. This franchise has always been terrible when it comes to writing and making characters become constant on the series, just look at the amount of cool characters that literally never showed up again after their first appearance like Carlos, Billy, etc ー and Resident Evil is even worse when it comes to villains, since they're never offered the chance of redemption. For that reason, I usually don't hold high expectations when it comes to character development or story, however, it was made clear enough by trailers and by how much more cinematographic this game is compared to any other that Village was meant to be less survival horror and more story/character focused, more movie-like. And since that was the direction they were heading to, the least they could do was create a story in which the plot and characters are equally developed and worked in unison.

Speaking of gameplay, the game is fun and plays well, but it's also not as tense as the previous title because the survival horror aspects are much less present: item managing is barely needed unless playing on hardcore or higher because the game is very forgiving of your mistakes — just like RE4, it has a mechanic of rewarding you for killing enemies rather than punishing you, and this mechanic that doesn't work too well in a survival horror game since it doesn't force you to be cautious with your resources and spend them wisely, you can just go on a killing spree and you'll be fine, and knowing that makes the game's atmosphere significantly less tense.

Since there was more criticism than praise in my words so far, allow me to mention my next point, which is in my opinion the best part of Resident Evil Village: the atmosphere and exploration. I was enchanted with the scenery of the gothic isolated Romanian village filled with blood, monsters and death, the breathtaking and detailed Baroque architecture of the Dimitrescu Castle, the calm, eerie silent snowy regions that fills you with a sense of desolation and dread. The visuals of this game are magnificent and immersive. Last but not least and another resemblance to Resident Evil 4: the merchant and his requests was the perfect addition to encourage map exploration and reproduce the impression of a open-world game. The whole experience of hunting treasures and searching for ingredients for the Duke's Kitchen were genuinely fun things to do.

I must finish by saying that if Village wasn't part of the Resident Evil franchise, it'd probably be a 10/10 for me. But carrying the name of a loved franchise comes with expectations, and I found that many of them weren't met. Still, even if not life-altering, Resident Evil Village is still a great, solid game with a high replay value and a decent story, so I recommend it and find it worth playing, because as long as you don't expect the game to be similar to the classic RE in terms of gameplay or horror level, or don't get too attached to the good-looking antagonists, the game's mediocre writing and less challenging than usual gameplay probably won't bother you, and you'll be able to have fun with it. I don't believe every game should be a masterpiece, and this one, even with all the mentioned downsides, still delivered an emotional and beautiful story about familiar love that was able to make me sympathize, connect with the characters and cry a river, so I consider it a good game, even if I think it could've been better with a few changes in the direction of the story.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #my writing.

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monstersqueen · 2 years ago

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Why do you ship Dazai and Ango?

Well, why not ?

Also I didn't expect to ! one moment I'm like : "wow wouldn't it be fucked up if ango and dazai started a relationship just after odasaku's death ? With dazai's resentment and self-destructive's tendencies and ango's feelings of guilt and his inability to stop caring about dazai?" and the next it's one week later and not only have i read everything in the ao3 tag in english, i've started making the not-english fics go through google translate, visit the tumblr tag every day, and am considering opening a word document to write. Which i have done by now.

All the time going 'yeah but. i really don't feel that vibe from them in canon???'

But. I should have expected it.

Why do I ship Ango and Dazai ?

I've got a Thing about friends-to-enemies-to-lovers

the messier the break up the better

i like it where the feelings afterwards are complicated, especially since it seems like the feelings are murderously complicated :p

i really like ango and i want good things to happen to him, and that means getting dazai back in his life

i really like ango ! he's fascinating ! It's so easy to simplify him to the one government dude but. it's more complicated. It's also more complicated than him putting his friends above all - that's the way i've been going for a while, because he does love them a stupid amount, but it comes down to is his own personal moral code.

he's not in the government because he believes in it - it's a job that gets in the way of what he thinks needs to be done sometimes actually ! he helps odasaku and dazai (or try to :( ), and helps the ada and dazai, and part of it is affection but part of it is that it's the right thing to do.

but the interesting part is that. even though it matters to him it's also in flux and gets limited by the reality of working for the government and "I shall never walk in the light again" oh my god

and it's interesting because he's a liar ! he's an incredibly good actor !

anyway he is interesting and that makes me like him a lot and so i want good things for him. and also to see him break down crying. he's earned it

and honestly the thing about dazai ? is that for someone who doesn't really see the difference between right and wrong, not beyond protecting and caring the few he's chosen, it's interesting to look at the people he did choose !

in the whole mafia he regularly drinks with guy who doesn't kill and the dude they picked up because in the midst of a war he refused to reduce deaths to numbers

he has a deep respect for kunikida's principles, for all he loves needling him?

there's a point also about chuuya and the depths to which chuuya care, and his conviction, to make here to

anyway the thing is that what dazai likes in people is inner goodness and a strong moral code. which are things that are not his !

which makes sense. for all the noises shibusawa and fyodor make about how boring and predictable ordinary people are, i kidna think. someone who thinks like is in fact even more predictable and so even more boring.

and besides even the question of interesting i think dazai just likes people who makes him see the value in living. and people who sees value in life are so interesting.

anyway i really like dazai? and his attempts to live ? he's holding a lot for someone for which there's no inherent joy in living

there's something to be said for someone whose natural talents are manipulation and scheming but who's decided to use those for good

also they have very strong feelings for each other ? sure at one point dazai's strong feelings was 'pull his own gun on ango' but it's also 'everything i would never want to lose is always lost' and no i'm not crying

also right now ango is listening to dazai's heart which honestly in terms of symbolic is some crazy romantic shit. also he was stopping time (via proxy) to communicate back, seriously, with the right framing this is peak romance

also how the fuck did they put that together. when. did dazai manage to go through that conversation without letting some of his anger show his true nature as heartbreak ? i want to know

seriously the ada matters a lot to dazai; he cares for everyone in it, and not just because that's how he can keep his promise to odasaku, he cares about them

so ? right now ? he's relying on ango to make sure what his intentions and thoughts get to them. that's absolute trust. that's not "you betrayed me once but i'm giving you a chance and we'll see" that's "we were friends once and i know you and i know you still care and so i trust you completely" and even that is not possible without acknowledging one way or another that he still cares too

i'm absolutely crazy about ango risking his carreers because he trusts that dazai is doing the right thing. i think there isn't a lot he wouldn't do for dazai, but i also think he's trusting in dazai's good intentions

which given the while 'sabotaging his airbag' thing is ALSO a whole lot of trust

ango is going against the entire government, basically inflitrating it as a reverse spy (again), because he trusts that dazai is truly trying to protect people.

and risking his job. at the very least. can't wait to see where it all ends up for him

anyway we're talking about two people who used to be close, who were torn apart in ways that tore them both to shreds, left their relationship at the 'wow it would be fucked up if they got together now, that certainly wouldn't be love and it would be toxic as fuck' and 'pull your own gun on you' and 'sabotage your airbag' stage, and SOMEHOW got at "i'll trust you absolutely in a situation where the world has been turned against us"

in short i ship ango and dazai because dazai went from "i knew i was going to lose you because i would never want to" to "i'm going to pull your own gun on you and at least consider shooting despite that that would really fuck me and my team over" to "you are the one i trust when i can't help myself anymore" and that's. that's.

yeah.

#askbox stuff #Anonymous #dazango #bsd march 2023 not lb #the thing is ! ango might have been a spy but all the things dazai liked about him /are still true/#the guild might have tied the special division's hands but ango is still going to meet him and warn him !#just like he warned odasaku not to fight gide despite the special division wanting the mafia to handle mimic #suspecting that dazai is part of the reason he ended up in the hospital he'll still promise the division's help #and only after that negotiation will he confront dazai's about the airbag sabotage !#ango's priorities are fascinating because they constantly diverges from the government and yet it's easy to forget it

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sabrina-central · 4 years ago

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Sabrina And Trixx:

Let's talk about the potential Fox! Sabrina could have had in the show.

Let's talk about Sabrina, who's shy and timid and a pushover, but who has also shown her capacity for cunning and calculated planning through her ability to do both her own and Chloe's homework for years, presumably without getting caught and well enough to keep both their grades up, her ability to sneak a photo of Marinette's design for Chloe and even sneak into her house.

Let's talk about how along with all this, she seems to have a very interesting sense of justice, where she knows wrong from right but is willing to skew her own moral code for the people she cares about, as seen when she tells Marinette they're gonna tell the teacher that Chloe's been cheating this entire time, implying that she's always wanted to do this but felt obligated to support Chloe in every way possible.

Let's talk about her overwhelming desire to help, both in everyday situations where her preparedness for anything stems from a need to please Chloe first and foremost, yes, but at the same time she's more than happy to use her skills to land a hand to anyone who could use one, and also in a dire circumstance when the heroes call upon the citizens for help. She's one of the first people Ladybug talks to on heroes day and she immediately agrees to help. (Granted we don't see what she does because the writers clearly didn't think that far ahead, but we know that she wants to help the very least.)

Let's talk about how all these positive traits could be encouraged by the influence of Trixx in her life, how he could push her to be her best self and be there to calm any doubts she has in herself, and how he'd definitely hype her up whenever anyone tries to bring her down, and how he probably wouldn't stand Chloe's treatment of her should it continue to be what it is.

Let's talk about how he could also recognise her more dangerously toxic traits, like her need to please others to a fault and her tendency to go against her own morality to do so, and how we now know him to be capable of getting serious and giving his holder a stern talking to when necessary.

Now let's talk about how badass she would be as the fox, given all these facts into account. Let's talk about Sabrina being sneaky and stealthy, like a fox should be, and pouncing just when you least expect it.

Let's talk about how she and Chat Noir would relate to each other of the shared experience of only being able to truly express themselves when they put on the mask, something Ladybug can't relate to.

Let's talk about her crafting creative and downright realistic illusions, not only being convincing but also reading the targets of her illusions and figuring out what they really want to see.

Let's talk about her befriending Queen Bee, and being actual equals, leading to Chloe learning to change the way she sees her best friend Sabrina, now that she knows you can be friends with someone without controlling them.

Finally, since it's the least important but most fun part, in my opinion, let's talk aesthetics. Because really, think about it.

Trixx has Purple Eyes and a dominantly Orange color scheme. Sabrina has Orange Hair and a dominantly Purple color scheme. Not to mention, i just think it would be cool if the Fox had cool, Purple Feline like eyes like Chat Noir.

Combine all these elements together and you get a really cool looking Fox Hero that knows the power of illusions, because she's been living one her whole life. The illusion that she's fine, that her friendship is fine, that she doesn't need anything more than what she has, that she likes her life as it is. That she's happy.

She's convinced herself of this because the alternative is to admit that the friendship she had or thought she had with Chloe doesn't really exist anymore, and all that there is is obligation, bitterness, and control.

With the fox miraculous and Trixx by her side, she is able to envision herself as someone free of those constraints, something she could hardly imagine before, and now she can see it, so vividly and clearly. And seeing it allows her to believe it, which in turn leads her on the path to achieving it.

I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this, so if anyone wants to know more, Lets Talk.

#sabrina raincomprix #miraculous ladybug #fox miraculous

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on-stardust-wings · 4 years ago

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"At least we know whose fault it is!"

I've seen several posts discussing how Hell overestimates Crowley. And lots of posts on how Aziraphale and Crowley don't actually do anything to save the world, that they're just kind of there.

On that tangent, personally I think the other characters don't actually do all that much more. Aziraphale and Crowley aren't the only characters who seem to do less than you'd expect in the end. Anathema comes to England expecting she'll have to save the world. In the end, all she really needed to do was be there, lose the book so Aziraphale can read it, and take Newt to the airbase so he can break the computers. Even the Antichrist doesn't defeat the horsemen by himself, he's got his friends with him who do it. And while Adam defeats Satan by refusing to accept him as his dad, he didn't think he could do it alone. He needed reassurance and support. The end of the world is stopped by many small contributions, not one big heroic act. That's part of the charm, I think.

But, I'm rambling away. I was going to write about how Crowley is or maybe is not overestimated by Hell, and how Aziraphale is looked at by Heaven in turn.

A common fandom opinion seems that they're both rather bad at their respective jobs. But, their superiors don't seem to think so, and that's interesting to me.

Hell gives Crowley a commendation for the Spanish Inquisition, although he had nothing to do with it, and is completely horrified by it (at least in the book, but you can just as well see it for the show). They also commend him on the French Revolution in the show, and accept his claim that he started the second World War. They like his M25 scheme. Not everyone understands it, demons like Hastur don't agree with Crowley's methods (and personally just don't like him), but you get the idea that they do indeed think he's doing a somewhat good job. They give him the very important Antichrist delivery job, too (when two Dukes of Hell were up there anyway and could have completed the job). Hastur, while admittedly not the sharpest tool in the shed, for a moment actually believes Crowley's Dark Council bluff. He wonders if maybe Crowley is more than he seems. Hastur hates Crowley, but he doesn't think him incompetent.

Hell is shit, yes, but Hell also respect Crowley's work. Or at least what they think Crowley works on. Crowley has rather successfully tricked Hell into thinking he's actually more competent at demoning than he really is. He is clever enough to hide his weaknesses (like his rather undemonic moral code, his dislike of killing or his friendship with an angel), and he’s learned to play the system to his benefits.

I first thought Heaven thinks rather more lowly of Aziraphale, because of how patronising they treat him. They look down on him. They ignore his input. They bully him. They invade his personal space, they treat him without respect. It's easy to assume they also think he's incompetent.

But. That doesn't seem to be the case.

Firstly, there's the deleted bookshop opening scene where they wanted to give him a medal. Were they trying to get him replaced because they thought he sucks at his job? Was it actually a promotion for a job done well? It's hard to tell.

Or maybe, and I think that's my point, were they trying to replace him with someone they trust more?

Heaven doesn't trust Aziraphale. Over their power play it's hard to spot, but they don't. And it doesn't start once they get suspicious about his comments regarding the Antichrist. It's there from the start.

Gabriel and Sandalphon show up in the bookshop well before they start to actually investigate Aziraphale's contact to Crowley and involvement in Armageddon. They walk into his shop, shout about pornography, and corner Aziraphale in the backroom. They keep him between them, like in a particular nasty cross examination. Sandalphon blocks the doorway. Gabriel casually reminds Aziraphale of Sandalphon's happy smiting of entire cities. They are there to threaten him. You don't threaten people you think are incompetent and stupid. You threaten people you're worried you might not have under control.

They are belittling and don't take him seriously when he comes to talk to them about the opposition having possibly lost track of Adam, but once he's gone, they start thinking. This isn't the behaviour of superiors who think their underling is daft. They think Aziraphale dangerous enough to worry he could be up to something. They don't know what, but they're quick to get suspicious.

Michael considers the thought Aziraphale might work for Hell, as a double agent. Micheal, Uriel and Sandalphon again go to threaten Aziraphale, practically on his home turf. Hell sends Hastur and Ligur to collect Crowley (and threatens him rather badly in the book). In the show, three Archangels come to gang up on Aziraphale. They want to scare him. So shortly before the battle, three high ranking angels presumably have important things to do. They wouldn't bother with Aziraphale if they didn't think him worth some concern.

And then at the airbase, Adam stops Armageddon. Aziraphale and Crowley haven't actually done anything to stop it yet. Their part comes in supporting Adam in stopping Satan. But that is later. At this point, all they did was go there. Yes, they conspired to stop the apocalypse, but they didn't actually stop it. That was all the human characters.

But true to form, neither Gabriel nor Beelzebub think humans can do much of anything, and Gabriel naturally assumes it's Aziraphale (and Crowley's) doing. "At least we know whose fault it is!" And later, when they try to execute Aziraphale: "With one act of treason, you averted the War."

By seemingly surviving their executions, Aziraphale and Crowley scare Heaven and Hell, sure. But it's not scaring them out of the blue. Both Heaven and Hell were thinking they are more dangerous than they probably are already before that, and this might be why they buy it like this.

Crowley has a long history of surprising Hell with his schemes (not near all of which are actually his, but they don't know that). Aziraphale has, somehow, made the Archangels suspicious of him already before they had actual reasons to be suspicious, and then a whole platoon of angels plus the quartermaster watch him jump down to Earth without body to possess a human. To Heaven and Hell, their final coup doesn't completely come out of the blue.

On the contrary, with hindsight they'll probably be even more wary. Imagine Hastur's face when he connects the dots between Crowley being immune to Holy Water and his plant mister bluff. For all Hastur knows, Crowley had actual Holy Water in the mister. Imagine the hysterical screaming that follows the realisation. Imagine Sandalphon's face when he realises he punched an angel in the gut who later breathed Hellfire at him. For all they can tell, Crowley and Aziraphale have been going easy on them.

#good omens meta #Good Omens #aziraphale #crowley #heaven and hell #p+a

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anakinisvaderisanakin · 4 years ago

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Imagine yourself spending the first nine years of your life as a slave, with only your mother to guide you. Imagine being owned by another person, imagine being fatherless, struggling to get by in an unforgiving desert working for scraps. Imagine there’s a chip inplanted in your neck, in your mother’s neck, that will go off and blow you up if you run. Imagine living with that threat hanging over you, just one misstep and you or your mother will be doomed. Even when you find a way out, and are freed, she must remain. So, you vow to free her.

Imagine finally being taken away from that place, from your mother and the only comfort you know. Imagine being placed before a harsh, judgmental religious order and told that despite this one male stranger’s conviction that you are special enough to be a part of their convention, you don’t suffice. They condemn you, tell you you're not good enough, and you believe them. Then this man, whom you have begun to latch onto for lack of paternal idols dies suddenly and brutally. The boy he trained, who you clash more often with than not, is instead vowing to take you in.

Imagine meeting a girl with whom you are immediately besotted, imagine memorizing her beautiful face for years despite not seeing her again for a decade. Imagine you trying too hard to make her feel the same, imagine the guilt as you know you’re not supposed to fall in love. You’re not supposed to have emotional attachments, you’re not supposed to break your code. Imagine the desire to be with this woman of your dreams, imagine yourself knowingly breaking your rules simply to be with her. Imagine the rush of her feeling the same, imagine the fear of the secret coming out as you marry her in a candid ceremony.

Imagine you having visions and nightmares of your mother dying, and being unable to rush to her aid. Imagine pleading with your mentor, the older brother that the man raising you has become, only for him to deny you the opportunity. Imagine the stress, the anxiety, the fear. Imagine yourself, yet again bending the rules to finally rescue her. Imagine the terror when you find out your visions were premonitory, as you learn your mother was captured under torture. Imagine you sneaking into the place where she’s being held captive, only for her to be so weak she dies in your arms. The woman who was your entire world for the first nine years of your life, whom you have not seen for a decade is gone. You promised to free her, and you failed.

Imagine yourself, blinded by rage and sorrow, seeing red as you slaughter the entire village responsible for her demise. Even the innocents are killed off, even the children.

Imagine yourself in a battle, your adversary intent on killing you. Imagine you being unfocused, furious, and out of your league. Imagine him sneering at you, jeering, mocking you. Imagine yourself aiming for his head, trying so hard to take him down. He’s already wounded your mentor, and you want revenge. Instead, he outmatches you with ease, twirling your weapon out of your hand and dismembersing you. As if it was naught but air, he has cut through and severed your right arm from your body. You are saved, but scarred and a grudge is growing within you. An urge to kill him, to punish him for embarrassing and decimating you.

Imagine yourself being nineteen years old, motherless, married, and thrown into war. Imagine yourself leading an army of men whom you become close to, who you are proud to call your brothers in arms. Imagine being forced to watch them die, imagine having all their lives on your conscience, imagine being expected to behave like a responsible adult. Then imagine being placed in the position of mentoring, and raising, a child of your own. Imagine having a fourteen year old girl dumped into your lap, to teach right and wrong when you’re still just a kid yourself. Imagine you being expected to act as a parental figure, imagine you being expected to be mature enough to make this girl turn out okay. Imagine you have to teach this child to lead squadrons as your war commander, imagine yourself forced to instruct her how to cope and deal with the losses of life when you can barely manage yourself.

Imagine trying so hard not to become attached, imagine sneaking around on your tiptoes not to expose your secret marriage. Imagine feeling like you always have to hide your true self to live up to expectations, and still never feeling like you’re enough. Imagine this older man who has been somewhat distantly watching over you entering your life, imagine him being kind, and understanding, and you begin to depend upon him. You share more with him than anyone else, perhaps even your wife. You view him as a role model, finally a fitting father figure to guide you through life. Imagine him gradually becoming all the more important to you, and your life.

Imagine your mentor, your brother within the convent betraying you. Imagine him feigning death, imagine him lying to your face on behalf of the schemes of your superiors. Imagine you, believing he’s dead, mourning the man who has despite any shortcomings become your best friend, your hero. Imagine you finding out he is not only alive, but he purposely let you believe he was dead because your emotional reaction was necessary to sell the hoax. Imagine realizing he played with your feelings, he used your weakness to his own benefit. Imagine yourself trying to justify it, but unable to dismiss the seeds of doubt that have been sawn.

Imagine the child, this girl you’ve been tasked with mentoring for two full years of war and death, this girl you have accepted as a younger sister, is suddenly suspected of carrying out a terrorist attack. Imagine how the entire religious group you’re a part of point their fingers at her. Imagine them turning against her one by one, even your brother stays silent on the matter. Imagine your despair, your discontent as she is expelled from the convent, from the only family she has ever known. Imagine yourself finally hunting down the actual culprit, only to find it’s somebody your sister considered a close friend. Imagine your rage, as you realize she too has been betrayed by people within the circle that was supposed to be a sanctuary.

Imagine your relief as you are told your sister is let back into the order, that you salvaged her status and cleared her name, only for her to walk away. Imagine knowing you did everything to prove her innocence, and still she leaves. Imagine yourself, and your already self internalized insecurities as she turns her back on you. Everyone always leaves you, everyone lies to you. Imagine blaming yourself, believing that had you only done better, she would have remained by your side. Imagine her disappearing without a trace, and when you finally do meet up with her again after what seems like an eternity, she shoots you down. She’s distant, and while she is only being professional, you take it as a sign that she has moved on. That you were never as important to her, as she was to you.

Imagine your father figure being kidnapped by the adversary who took your hand whom you have now targeted as an enemy, a nemesis of sorts. Imagine you coming to the rescue, goaded by the enemy as he professes you are worthless, you cannot harm him. Imagine yourself snapping, finding strength in your anger and your hatred towards this smug, snarling menace. To his shock, you best him. You pay him back, cutting off both his hands as retribution as you disarm him. He’s helpless, on his knees, and you know you should spare him. You have been taught to value compassion within the convent, your religion doubles down on it. But your father figure implores you to kill the nemesis. You falter, but your hands move. He repeats the request, and you give in, beheading the enemy. The unarmed, harmless old man whom you were supposed to take into captivity. Still, your father figures reassures you you did good.

Now, imagine those same prophetic visions you used to have of your mother’s death returning, only to target your wife. You already doubt the sister you raised, you already doubt your own mentor and brother. You can’t turn to your convent for help, as you’re still married in secrecy and to admit that would have you expelled. When you ask the religious leader for help in a cryptic manner, he blatantly tells you to let go, to let whomever you’re worried about fade. You learn that your wife is pregnant, and while it is worrisome, you’re also overjoyed. And frightened, seeing as your visions foretell your wife will die in childbirth.

You’re desperate, and as you share your fears with the only person you feel you can trust - your father figure - he begins to persuade you that the path you’re on is insufficient, if you want to save your wife and child. You begin to doubt the dogma you have been taught, the moral code that has been drilled into you, and you doubt everyone around you, even the wife you wish to save. Again and again, you are let down, as your convent requests you to spy on your father figure because of his politically powerful position. Imagine you knowing it’s against their religion, but you reluctantly agree as it’s your brother asking you to go through with it.

Imagine your father figure slowly but thoroughly beginning to shift your world view, insinuating that he has powers to save your wife. Imagine you buying into these suggestions, and even as you find out that he is a literal demonspawn - a murderer, a psychopath, a sadist, a monster - you hesitate to call him out. Imagine you desperate to do the right thing in sharing what you have learnt with your superiors at the convent, only for the one leader who trusts you the least to yet again ask you to stay behind rather than be helpful.

You are tormented, desperate and break down in tears as you contemplate whether keeping this dangerous man alive, the man you admired, to save your wife is worth it. You give in, because in the end, you are selfish and your wife means more to you than anything else. Her life is worth a thousand others. Hence, you rush to your father figure’s aid, at first trying to beg for his life, only to hear this supposedly saintly religious leader tell you it’s just to kill your father figure. Your father figure who appears weak, disarmed, on the brink of death. When you the leader moves in to finish the job and execute your father figure, you step in and you parttake in the murder of the superior whom you already disliked.

Disfigured by the struggle with the now dead religious figurehead, your father figure notes that you are full of guilt and regret, as he tells you you did good. He praises your actions, and tells you that as long as you follow his orders, and his dogma, he will help you save your wife. You accept the offer, and you know deep down that you have just taken a path you can never renege on. Your father figure asks you to murder in his name, to be his silent assassin. You are sent to purge the convent you were tutored in, ordered to kill everyone in sight as a religiously targeted genocide - spare no one. You act on autopilot, without autonomy. This is a job, and it’s necessary to save your wife. Nothing else matters, and you follow your orders. You kill everyone, even the children. You tell yourself death is a kinder fate than life within this sect, which you now think this religious order to be.

Imagine yourself reporting in, and being dispatched to kill again. You relent, but when the deed is done your, guilt and regret catches up with you. You realize you have become a murderer, a monster, the blood of the innocent soaking your hands. You realize that while perhaps you can justify the deaths of the problematic political leaders you’ve just slain as unavoidable, the children haunt you. You think of your wife, and your own child, and tell yourself even as you weep that this is for a good cause. Imagine knowing you spoke to your wife just after you murdered those children, assuring her everything will be alright, and now you have to reassure yourself that what you said wasn’t a lie.

Imagine your wife showing up out of nowhere, so close to the crime scene. Imagine her being shaken, panicking as she reveals your brother told her you have murdered children. Imagine you for some reason not understanding why that’s troubling her, when it was a necessary sacrifice to secure her survival. You admit to everything you have done, that whatever your brother told her, you did it for her. You tell her you refuse to watch her die, you refuse to lose her. Imagine her backing away from you in horror, and above all else, you feel enraged. She tells you she can’t believe you, she can’t stay with you anymore. She can’t accept you as you are. You are furious. You have broken every rule in the book, crossed every line imaginable, and she rejects you? You can’t accept it, and when you realize she has brought your brother with her - knowing he is intent on stopping you, whatever the cost - you refuse to believe her profession that she was unaware of his tagging along.

You see red, and you choke your wife. You choke her, even as she tearfully begs you to stop, as she tells you she loves you. You don’t listen, you can’t hear her words. You don’t trust her. Finally, you come to your senses and let her go. She crumbles to a heap, unconscious and you feel the weight of the blame, the guilt on your shoulders. Instead, you redirect the remorse towards your brother. You accuse him of being the root of all evil, the reason for all the atrocities you have committed. You make him into a figurehead for the sect, the cult you now believe to have brainwashed you. Imagine him telling you that he will kill you, if he needs to. Imagine you lunching at him, both of you fighting viciously. You want to see him dead, you want to punish him for all of your sins.

Imagine you coming to a stalemate, him offering one last warning. You disobey it, ignore it - and pay the price. He cuts off both your legs, and your remaining flesh arm. You shriek at him, and in that moment you loathe him with your entire being. You despise him, even as you use your only remaining limb, your prosthetic arm, to drag yourself towards him. Except you’re lying face down on pyring ashes, a lake of lava nipping at the exposed stumps of your legs. And in a second, you're set ablaze. It’s scorching, searing, agonizing as the flames eat away your clothes. Then your hair. Then your flesh; leaving gaping wounds in its wake as it devours you alive. You writhe, and moan, and try to plead as you reach towards your brother for salvation - for mercy. He just said he loved you, didn’t he? He still walks away, leaving you to burn. Leaving you for dead.

But you don’t die.

As if by some horrible, cruel twist of fate you live. Your father figure comes for you, he picks you up, he brings you back to a makeshift medical facility to patch you up. You are given no anesthesia, and as robotic aids perform the lifesaving surgery on your ailing body, you feel every single, agonizing rip, tear, cut and probe. They wrench mechanical prosthetics into the stumps of your limbs, into your severed nerve endings. They dress you in a harsh bodysuit that rubs your already sizzled skin raw. Wires and tubes are inserted into your chest, your throat, your stomach.

Eventually, the pain becomes too much but you remain conscious, remain in limbo. Finally, you receive a helmet to cover your face. It protects your scorched retinas, your charred esophagus with pressurized oxygen. Its lenses are red, and for the rest of your life, you will view the world around you through a crimson hue. You’re no longer breathing on your own. Something else is breathing for you, forcing your singed lungs to inhale and exhale rhythmically. You are strapped down, even as you are brought into a standing position to face your solemn father figure.

Then you remember how you ended up here. Your wife. Your everything, the woman you sold your soul to protect. She’s nowhere to be seen, and you find yourself both alarmed and confused through the haze of your pain. You speak, but the voice is not your own. You ask for her, shocked by the mechanism that now speaks for you and its brash, deep tone. You need to see her, even this hellish torment is worth it as long as you know she’s safe. As long as you know she made it out alive. You ask your father figure, but he reminds you of what you did to her. You hurt her, you choked her. You killed her, he says.

Just like that. She’s dead. She’s gone.

Despite everything you’ve done, every life you’ve taken, every crime you committed in her name. You wanted power, you wanted recognition, you wanted more - but not without her by your side. She’s lost. You will never see her again, you will never get to meet your child. You are trapped in a walking iron lung, a prison of your own making. You are scarred, warped, twisted, with countless lives on your conscience which you cannot write off as slights. You murdered your friends, your family, your convent - small children - in her name. When you finally could have had a future with her, you messed it up. You want to blame your brother, the religious order, the sister you raised, even your father figure.

But you can’t. It’s all on you.

You’re alone.

You have driven away everyone, you have killed the person who meant the most to you. You have nothing, you deserve nothing. You have poisoned and diminished what little joy you had to cling to. Imagine yourself, broken, battered, barely alive. Imagine yourself, now a murderer, a monster; a selfish, lost little boy who’s only just turned twenty two. Your life is in ruins, your wife is gone by your hand. Your child died with her. Your sister might as well have been executed, your brother left you to burn. You have fulfilled your own prophecy- You were the key to your wife’s demise, not her salvation. You are to blame, you are the reason, you did this. You can blame no one else. Only you.

You are Anakin Skywalker, and you will live with this knowledge for the rest of your life.

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ravnicaforgoblins · 4 years ago

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Ravnica for Goblins

Alignment

Figuring out where on the spectrum of beliefs, morals, and neutrality your character falls can be a challenge. One individual’s Chaotic Good is another’s Lawful Evil. To help clarify things, most campaigns include alignment for significant NPCs, and one can often draw a line between that NPC and that alignment. This doesn’t apply to every NPC, but the more important someone is, the more they come to represent a specific section of the moral grid in a campaign.

Ravnica does this as well, with most of the alignment chart represented by a Guildmaster. This isn’t completely uniform, however, so there’s wiggle room for an NPC to lean one way or the other as fits the story. There are some pretty safe bets, however, who can be counted on to check certain boxes at all times.

Isperia of the Azorius Senate: Lawful Neutral

Isperia represents the goal of the Azorius; objective devotion to upholding the laws as they are written. She was elected to her position because of her ability to look passed right & wrong, instead focusing solely on interpreting Ravnica’s 10d6 of Psychic damage legal system for all disputes.

Lazav of House Dimir: Neutral Evil

Lazav is the Dimir at their most annoying but least murderous. Blatant disregard for everyone’s privacy, but preference for stealing, secrets, and information over assassination. Lazav infiltrates every Guild, including his own, always determined to stay several steps ahead of any potential threat. This is not to say he won’t kill people if necessary, but his is a cold, “bloodstained calculus” methodology. It’s never personal.

Rakdos of the Cult of Rakdos: Chaotic Evil

On this plane, Rakdos is the living embodiment of Chaotic Evil, a title he takes very seriously. It’s just about the only thing he takes seriously, as he prefers to live without rules and have everyone else do the same. Unrestrained hedonism and mayhem are his bread & butter. You do what you want, whatever you want, whenever you want, however you want, regardless of what anyone or anything else says. No restrictions, no inhibitions, no hesitation. Encouraging this kind of destructive chaos in the streets is the only thing keeping Rakdos from embracing more orthodox Chaotic Evil behavior of slaughtering millions, enslaving thousands, and bowing to no one.

The Obzedat of the Orzhov Syndicate: Lawful Evil

Hard to believe there can be something worse than an actual Demon given permission to encourage every sin imaginable, but that is what the Ghost Council are. The Obzedat exist to stretch, bend, and twist every law designed to maintain order, neutrality, or justice so as to benefit themselves. What’s worse is how the Orzhov play innocent when they do it. Unlike the Dimir or the Rakdos who accept and even embrace society’s interpretation of their actions, the Orzhov refuse to be seen as anything but humble, spiritual, gracious public servants. The very antithesis of what they actually are; arrogant, miserly, manipulative bastards. They will point out exactly which laws they are not breaking, which laws there is insufficient evidence to prove they are breaking, and which laws prevent you from punching them in the face right now.

Trostani of the Selesnya Conclave: Neutral Good

If there’s one thing to be said for Selesnya, it’s that they are rarely the problem. The Conclave is perfectly content to keep to their fields & forests most of the time and focus solely on building up their own Guild. In a city where every Guild has a problem with every other Guild, Selesnya is the only one who at least tries to get along with everyone else. They don’t tend to get involved in matters that don’t concern them, but theirs is always a safe haven for those who seek it. Trostani is made up of three dryads representing Harmony, Life, and Order. You don’t get much more Neutral Good than that. The only problem is that Trostani basically never leave their Guildhall, so their influence only spreads so far. The reason they can live so peacefully is because so little of the chaotic city life overlaps into theirs.

Besides them, everyone has wiggle room and gray area to move around in. Both Niv-Mizzet and Borborygmos are canonically Chaotic Neutral, but with their most prominent personality traits being vanity & anger, respectively, the “Neutral” part of that can go out the window quick. Still, almost every Guild has at least a semblance of a position somewhere on the chart to start from. You can basically count on a member of each Guild to be at least:

Azorius Senate: Lawful

This is the Guild that writes the laws of Ravnica, after all. They literally draw their power from this ancient legal code, so it makes sense that, whether an Azorius leans more towards Good, Evil, or Neutrality, they do so lawfully.

Boros Legion: Good

If the Azorius follow the intellectual letter of the law, the Boros follow the passionate spirit for which said law was originally written. Justice, not legal-ese. Sometimes the law is good enough, but sometimes it fails its citizens. A Boros should be an inspiring force for Good, whether Lawful or Chaotic depends on the individual.

House Dimir: Neutral

The best a Dimir operative can hope to achieve, morally speaking, is neutrality. If you are working for this Guild, you are lying & stealing. Odds are you are infiltrating another Guild to find/steal information to report back to your superior(s). Not every Dimir agent does this willingly, however. Maybe a character only became a Dimir operative after finding out their mentor was. Maybe a character had nowhere else to turn and no one else to depend on. Maybe they just needed House Dimir’s connections to get them close enough to someone in another Guild who wronged them. Whatever the motivation, cling to that gray area of neutrality like your life depends on it. It’s all you’ve got.

Gruul Clans: Chaotic

Gruul are many things. “Lawful” is not one of them. If you’re a member of a Gruul Clan, you’ve definitely got a bit of a temper on you and a strong disregard for authority. Now, a Gruul can absolutely be a force for good, or, conversely, evil. Maybe you joined the Gruul after your ancestral home was bulldozed over for a smelly Izzet facility. Maybe you had a mental breakdown after decades of trying to uphold law in a city where the laws mean jack shit unless there’s a guy in blue sitting at his desk. Maybe you got tired of planting trees and getting stepped on. Maybe you don’t like the pretentiousness of so-called “artists”. Maybe you just like hitting things. Whatever your reason, the Gruul will welcome another anarchist.

Golgari Swarm: Chaotic/Evil/Neutral

The Golgari Swarm are the first Guild where you’re really going to find a lot of diversity in alignment. Some definitely fall into the chasm of Chaotic Evil Necromancers, others stand firmly in the fields of True Neutral Rot Farmer, and some idly wander between the two. Necromancy is pretty normal in Golgari society, and “Evil” can be considered a harsh word to describe it. It’s definitely more normalized in the Undercity than it is on the surface. A lot of typically Evil behavior is like that for the Golgari, lest we forget that this society of giant bugs, necromancers, zombies, medusa, etc also run the sewage system and food stamps program for the city. That said, there are definitely Golgari with sufficient ambition/motivation to become ready-made Big Bads. What is a Lich, after all, but a wizard who says, “No, I’m too important to die!”

Izzet League: Chaotic

If there’s one predictable aspect of the Izzet, it’s that they are unpredictable. For a Guild whose founding principle is “I wonder what would happen if....”, it’s best to accept that you’ll never be Lawful. Your job, as it is, is to look at laws (nature, physics, etc) and poke at them with electrodes to see what happens. Your focus will always be on things that haven’t been written down yet, as opposed to what already has. It’s almost literally impossible to be Lawful and Izzet for that reason alone. As far as Good, Evil, and Neutral go; that’s up to the individual. This experiment could replicate food so we never have to eat Golgari rations again! Or it could replicate essential personnel to prevent understaffing! Or, it could even replicate.... ME (cue maniacal laughter).

Orzhov Syndicate: Lawful

The Orzhov, like the Azorius, draw their power and influence from the laws of Ravnica. Evil is expected, though not mandatory, but Lawful is a requirement. An Orzhov who doesn’t know their way around Ravnica’s laws is a loose end, and the Orzhov don’t allow loose ends to jeopardize their schemes & ambitions. One can absolutely be a Lawful Neutral Orzhov, also known as an Accountant, but such individuals rarely find their way into a life of adventure. A Lawful Good Orzhov can exist, but your greatest adversary will be the large majority of your Guild who sees you as a potential threat to their illicit activities. In which case, you’ll want to know those laws even better than they do.

Cult of Rakdos: Chaotic

Chaos is mandatory, evil is encouraged. By “Evil”, we mean “things people tell you are Evil”. Anything you would do while drunk you should be able to do at all times! There’s really only three rules in the Cult of Rakdos:

Rule #1, Rakdos is #1

Rule #2, JUST DO IT

Rule #3, Don’t be boring

Being Neutral breaks Rule 3, being Good breaks Rule 2 and/or 3, and being Lawful breaks all 3 rules. Which reminds me of the fourth rule:

Rule #4, NEVER break Rule #1

Truthfully, being Chaotic Good or Chaotic Neutral is perfectly fine as long as you don’t impede on someone else’s hedonism without a reason, or lack thereof. As long as you’re being free & crazy, that’s what really matters.

Selesnya Conclave: Good

As stated with Trostani, Selesnya is a pretty consistent force of Good, if nothing else. They don’t really do hate, you know? Life in the Conclave is pretty uniformly Good, so why make trouble? Why can’t everyone just be Good? In short; ‘cause they don’t wanna, none of your business, go hug a tree, and/or because fire is FUN. Lawful fits some individuals but can just get in the way for others. Neutral is pretty solid but some things must call you to act. Chaotic is if you really want to embrace being a Nature Warrior in a planet-sized cityscape. Selesnya is the Guild for goodie two-shoes, as if that’s a bad thing.

Simic Combine: Any

The Simic Combine is the one Guild that can honestly fall anywhere on the alignment chart. The Guild started out as Doctors, Naturalists, and preservers of life. Now it also operates large-scale bioengineering. You can have a Lawful Good Simic Paladin committed to preserving life and health, a True Neutral Simic Forcemage (Druid) dedicated to living a simple life bolstering plant growth, or a Chaotic Evil Simic Wizard who has decided on everyone’s behalf that flippers and gills are now mandatory. Just like science can be used for great Good, great Evil, or mundane routine, the Simic Combine can turn its experiments to any purpose, depending on the individual. And whereas the Izzet are firmly Chaotic, the Simic have the foresight to think ahead before they try an experiment. You can be anything you want in the Simic Combine, just plan it out.

#ravnica for goblins #ravnica #goblins #d&d #dnd #5e #alignment #roleplaying #dungeons and dragons #dungeons & dragons #good #evil #lawful #neutral #guilds

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 5 years ago

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I dont know if this counts as a requests but? Following the pregnancy ask you posted, how many children do you think the characters will have with their s/o in adulthood? Just the numbers and MAYBE genders?? (If not all just savanaclaw) kinda curious👀

(I was actually thinking about this while writing the ask soooo I’ll just do Savanaclaws for now)

Jack Howl:

Two little boys, ones about four to five years older than the other. Jack would want to wait awhile to have another baby after your first son is born but he likes the idea of your next child having an older sibling to look out for them. He raises them both to have strong moral codes and they resemble their fathers greatly, fluffy little tails and ears making them seem a bit less intimidating to outsiders. They’re also part of your defense squad, keeping an ear out for anyone who might be rude to you and quickly jumping to your defense with their fangs bared.

Leona Kingscholar:

One child, a daughter. There’s not a single day that rolls by where you don’t recognize how much your daughter takes after Leona; she was one of the sleepiest babies you’d ever dealt with and her teenager attitude resembles the one her father will probably have the rest of his life. Leona raised her to expect only the finest things in life as it’s what she deserved and to demand respect from those around her, with you thankful that she’s willing to work towards earning that respect rather than just assuming she should have it from the start.

Ruggie Bucchi:

Triplet boys. It’s both a blessing and a curse to immediately have so many children thrust upon the two of you though Ruggie takes it in stride. It makes it a little harder to take care of all of you but he’s once again blessed by the fact he has people around him willing to band together and help the two of you out when times get rough. All three of the little boys you have are like mini-mes of their father, constantly causing a ruckus and helping him in his money-making schemes as they want to help out, too.

#Jack Howl #Leona Kingscholar #Ruggie Bucchi #Disney Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #TWST Headcanons #Twisted Wonderland Headcanons #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Jack Howl x Reader #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Ruggie Bucchi x Reader

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snek-snacc-ficc · 5 years ago

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One Is A Genius, The Other’s Insane

Summary: Logan had seen enough of the world to know it was a horrible place, greatly in need of a competent leader. That was a job he was more than willing to fill, and so, by the age of twenty, he began his tireless work to plan the perfect scheme for world domination. Things became much more complicated, however, when Remus, his complete opposite in nearly every sense, stumbled his way into his life.

(Pssst, it's a Pinky and the Brain au)

Words: 3,177

Logan Ackeroyd couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realized the world was a horrible place. It had been more of a gradual thing really. He studied history in school and learned of all the horrors man had committed against man throughout the thousands of years of humankind's existence. Everyday he’d watch the news and see atrocities happening across the globe in real time. When he turned sixteen, he had to get a terrible job as a fast food cashier, enduring impatient, rude customers demanding cheap food that tasted like it had been chemically manufactured (and he figured it most likely was), just so one day college would be slightly more affordable. And, perhaps worst of all, when he did reach college, he was forced to listen to pretentious English professors take the likes of Sigmund Freud seriously. Listening to an old man tell a room full of his fellow peers that Hamlet wanted to copulate with his mother was the last straw, and so, by the age of twenty, Logan Ackeroyd decided that he would take over the world.

He wasn’t the absolute perfect choice for Earth’s ruler, he knew, but he also knew that he had an immense amount of intelligence, and a righteous moral code, and that put him above nearly every other world leader in his book.

Unfortunately, Logan found, working to become the world’s benevolent dictator didn’t pay well, in fact it often depleted his pocket book, and so he took up a job as a middle school science teacher by day, and would dedicate his nights to working out the perfect scheme for world domination.

It was supposed to be a secretive, solo endeavor. Involving others in his plan could get messy and chaotic, which was rather counterintuitive to his goal. Along with that, it could prove disastrous to alert others of his plans for fear it could somehow lead to interference from the authorities. It was best, he decided, to simply keep to himself with a clear mind. All of that, however, was ruined the day he met Remus.

Logan’s trip to the hardware store was meant to be quick and simple. He was working on what he thought was the verge of a breakthrough, (a prototype of a device that would allow him to brainwash the masses through the use of a high pitched sound wave), but he was missing some of the tools needed for its completion. When he turned around from the shelf he had grabbed a collection of bolts from, he was brought face to face with a man with a handlebar mustache staring at him. He was startled for a moment, but the feeling quickly gave way to annoyance.

“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past him.

“Is that blood on your sleeve?”

Logan looked down at his long sleeved polo. He hadn’t noticed the red stain on it earlier and he thought it odd that the stranger would point it out.

“I don’t believe so. There’s a stronger possibility that it’s jam.”

“You should totally lick it to find out.”

“That would be highly uncouth,” Logan deadpanned, hoping the peculiar person would soon leave.

“It could be cool. If it is blood then you’d be like a vampire.”

Logan moved towards the check out, delving into an explanation of the definition and proper pronunciation of “uncouth.” The man continued to trail behind him, apparently satisfied with his shopping trip of a cartful of spray paint, chattering on about what seemed like disconnected nonsense. By the time he was finished with his purchase, excusing himself once again to leave, Logan was relieved to no longer be burdened with the annoying distraction.

He rushed to his lab with the missing parts once he reached home, eager to begin work on the project once more. He had little time to do so though, as right as he began the door to the room swung open. Logan jumped, grabbing a screwdriver on instinct in case he had to defend himself, and spun around to see the man from the store standing before him.

“What?!- Why’re you-” he sputtered, completely flabbergasted.

“You left this at the checkout,” the man said, thrusting forward a plastic bag with a collection of wrenches in it. Logan hadn’t even realized he’d left it behind, but his attention had been split when he was checking out thanks to the other.

“So your first reaction was to stalk me and break into my house?!” Logan’s voice rose with anger and unease. “How did you even find where I live?”

“I followed your car.” The man said it like doing so was the most casual thing in the world. “I almost missed ya, but I caught up just in time. Lost you for a second at a stoplight though. And when I found you again your car was already in the driveway and you were gone. I tried knocking at the front door but you never answered, so I just walked in and heard you doing...whatever this is down here.”

Logan was silent, both confused and slightly disturbed that the man’s first solution had been breaking and entering, but he had little time to dwell on that. His cover was blown. His lab had been exposed to an outsider who would most certainly bring an end to his work. It had always been a concern of Logan’s, but he didn’t think he would be faced with it so soon. He kept his composure though, already theorizing which high security prison he might be thrown into.

“Well,” he said, “I suppose now that you know of my secret you will contact the authorities. I’d rather you do it now and get it over with. My phone is right over there if you need to use it.”

The man did not move to grab it however. He remained where he was, darting his gaze around the room.

“Why would I do that?” he asked, still taking in the surroundings.

“B-Because you know of my nefarious plans now, to take over the world.” Logan gestured to the large bulletin board on the wall labeled “Plans for World Domination,” using the same tone of voice he used when re-explaining concepts to students that had been zoned out in class.

“You’re trying to take over the world?!” the other sounded ecstatic, “Woah, how?”

That hadn’t been the reaction Logan expected at all, and he still was unsure whether it was a trap of sorts or the man in question really was this...dense seemed the best way to put it. Either way, he had little left to lose. If he was going to get arrested, at least he would finally get the chance to explain his genius plan to someone beforehand. He turned back towards the device on the work desk.

“Well if you must know, I’m working on this prototype of a device that would send out a high frequency noise to anyone within a ten thousand mile radius. Once it’s finished, I was going to hide them on numerous radio towers and implant a message within it that would brainwash everyone that heard it, allowing me to gain total control of a large number of people quite quickly and efficiently. The only problem thus far seems to be a simple yet pesky error on my part; These wires on its main control panel keep falling in the way when I try to work on it, and there's no way for me to move them all at once and simultaneously continue my work.”

“Well I can help with that Dr. Dork-enshmirtz, here.” He moved over to the control panel, lifting up the bunches of wires that hung over it. “That better?”

Logan, though still a bit stunned, dug around in the bag the man had brought over, taking out the wrench he needed to continue where he left off.

“My name is Logan,” he said, “but that is quite helpful, thank you…?”

“I’m Remus,” the other chirped eagerly.

“Thank you Remus.” As much as he loathed to admit it, it was fairly nice to have some sort of companionship. Being able to share just a bit of his idea already gave him a rush of excitement, despite the odd circumstances it had occurred under. And having someone to be an extra set of hands was an added bonus.

“Would it be possible for you to further offer your assistance to me?”

“Sure thing Nerdy Wolverine, as long as I get Australia privileges when you brainwash everyone. I’m gonna make a spider army.”

The plan fell through in the end (Logan hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to travel the globe, climbing thousands of radio towers), but from that moment on Logan had Remus as his partner in justifiable crime.

---

"Heeeyyy Logie, what are we gonna do tonight?"

Logan rubbed his temples. For ninety-five nights in a row Remus had asked this same question, and every single night Logan's response was the same.

"The same thing we do every night Remus, try to take over the world."

"Ooo neat! What are we gonna do this time? More sabotaging jam companies?"

"No Remus," Logan sighed, "after last night's disaster we're lucky we aren't on some government watch list." He was most disappointed that out of all of his plans that one fell through. Creating a utopia where only Crofter's jam was consumed would have been a dream come true. But alas, he had to move on.

"Truth be told I am rather stumped as to what our next approach should be, but I'm sure with some copious amounts of effort I will come up with another brilliant idea."

"Why don't you take the night off Brainiac?" Remus asked.

"Take the night off?" Logan scoffed, "When the world still remains in the clutches of corrupt, incompetent leaders? Never. Besides, what would I do if not plot to take over the world?"

"You could take a nap," Remus suggested, "You've got circles under your eyes so dark you could pass for a MySpace profile picture."

"While I appreciate the concern, my friend, I am quite fine. Though my sleep schedule is a bit off of an average rhythm, rest assured I have calculated a routine that keeps me functioning regularly. Though, given that you sleep a full 9 hours each day I doubt a set sleeping pattern can do much to create normal behavior." Logan muttered the last bit watching Remus grind his nails against his teeth like they were a nail-filer.

Remus halted his movement, inspecting his hand with one eye closed as he spoke. "Well then we could do something fun. We could watch this one documentary I want to see about this religious cult that made all it's followers fuck each other on a bridge and then jump off," he let out a cackled laugh, "Crazy how all that religious stuff can control people like that."

Logan scrunched his nose. "Remus, I ask that you keep your disgusting documentary drivel to yourse-" He paused for a moment, the last thing Remus said sinking in.

"Remus, what did you just say?"

"It's crazy how all the religious junk can control people," Remus repeated, "that's partially why I gave up organized religion, in fact…"

He trailed off but Logan wasn't listening, the gears in his head turning, formulating a new idea.

"Remus," he exclaimed, eyes lit up as he cut the other off without realizing it, "are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"Hm, well I think so Logie," Remus said, "but I'm actually allergic to synthetic body glitter."

Logan grit his teeth, face falling.

"You would make for wonderful evidence to prove it's possible to de-evolve, Remus. No, I was referring to the idea of preying on the population through the use of religion. If I were to somehow convince the masses that I were a god I would have the world tied around my finger; They would do anything I commanded."

"Woah, you'd be a much better god than Sky Daddy Logan," Remus said, "but how are you going to get that many people to trust you?"

"From what I've observed, most people seem to distrust claims of the supernatural due to a lack of perceivable, verified evidence," Logan said. "If I could find a way to create some sort of projection of myself to a large number of people all at once, it might be enough to convince them that I am a deity. And right here in America would be the perfect starting point, because most people here are rather gullible and severely lacking in critical thinking skills."

Remus clapped his hands together.

"Yay! We're gonna start a nerd cult!"

---

Tireless nights were spent working to bring the plan to fruition. Logan had to work out exactly how he could create a convincing projection of himself, as well as find a power source with enough energy to fuel it. After weeks of building, planning, and re-working the contraption was finally finished and ready to be put to use.

It was about half past ten o'clock when Remus and Logan headed out to the nearby electrical company. Its small amount of security and large source of power made it the ideal location to put his plan into motion. When they arrived and had successfully snuck through the wired fence, Logan turned to Remus.

"Here," he said, handing him a thick metal pole he had under his arm, "you use this to knock out the security guards while I hack into the security system and cameras. Try and meet me in 15 minutes."

Remus gave a two-fingered salute.

"You got it Dorkenshmirtz."

Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname, but couldn't truly be annoyed by it. So far everything was going perfectly according to plan. Logan even found himself grinning as he made quick work of disabling the security, the flow of adrenaline making him nearly burst with excitement. Once the system was completely down, he turned tail to head to the main center. He unzipped the bag he was carrying, carefully taking out the disk-like platform he would use for the projection, and untangling the series of wires and cords to put together. To his dismay, he found that the last cord was slightly bent, most likely from being shuffled around in the bag on the trip over, and wouldn't properly plug in to the outlet without hands on assistance. The concern was quickly diminished though. Remus would be able to hold it in place while he was on the platform. Just as the thought crossed his mind the door swung open and Remus stepped in. His hair was slightly more astray than usual and a noticeable bruise was forming around his jaw, but he was smiling madly, chipper as ever.

"Did you take all of the guards out?" Logan asked.

"Yup, I bonked 'em!" Remus said, proudly. "A few of them put up a fight but I went like this," he swung the pole through the air, "BONK!"

Logan couldn't help the amused quirk of his lips.

"Wonderful," he said, making his way towards the platform, "Everything has been put into place, except the cord over there. I need you to hold it into the outlet for this to work. Do not let go."

Remus nodded.

"Amen Sky Daddy!"

He plugged the cord in, keeping it upright and steady. Almost immediately the platform lit up with a surge of power. Logan walked towards it, nearly trembling. Finally after years of work, trying and failing and trying again, he was going to succeed. The world would finally be his to craft to his perfect, peaceful vision.

Once it was completely charged up Logan took his step onto the platform. Outside an enlarged image of himself filled the sky for miles. He cleared his throat, preparing his speech for the people, when suddenly his moment was interrupted by the sound of Remus cursing to himself as softly as he could manage. His head whipped around and to his horror he saw sparks of electricity flying from the place where the cord met the outlet, sending repeated shocks through Remus, who was struggling through the pain to keep the cord plugged in.

Remus looked to Logan, seeing him hesitate.

"Go on," he whispered, though his voice was strangled with discomfort, "I'm fine."

Logan turned back around once more, but got no further in his speech as he caught the sparks growing larger out of the corner of his eye.

Time seemed to freeze for Logan, his head was spinning, torn between the task at hand and Remus' pained whimpers.

He'll be fine.

He'll get electrocuted and die.

It's one person vs the future of the rest of the world. This is what I've worked towards for years, and I'm going to blow it.

But he's helped so much.

Stupid, loyal Remus with his constant screw ups, and dumb jokes, and annoying nicknames, and laughter and chatter that always rang through the house, that filled a void I didn't even notice was there before, and-

Remus cried out, his body completely jolting with an electric shock, but still he forced himself to keep hold of the cord.

"Remus let go!" Logan shouted.

"N-no, y-you-" Remus couldn't get out another word before another strong shock struck him. The surrounding wires and cords were jumping with sparks as well, and Logan caught sight of a fire starting at the floor where Remus sat slumped weakly against the wall.

"Remus!"

Without thinking twice Logan bolted from the platform, heaving Remus into his arms just as the flames began to grow and approach his body. He rushed out of the building, lungs burning from the toxic fumes of smoke that filled the air, but he didn’t slow his pace until they reached the car, the sound of sirens already blaring in the distance.

The drive home almost certainly broke the speed limit, but Logan cared little about that, glancing at Remus, unconscious but miraculously breathing, every few seconds until they reached home.

---

It was evening two days later when Remus finally awoke. He groaned, blinking his eyes open. Just as he came to, Logan walked into the room, rushing over to the bedside.

"So Logan,” Remus said, flashing a dopey smile up at him, “what do you want to do tonight?"

Logan threw his arms around Remus' neck, the position awkward due to him being sprawled out on the bed, but neither paid any mind to it. Tears leaked out of Logan's eyes, that he tried to hold back.

"I think," he said, sniffling, "that you can choose what we do tonight Remus."

Soon after, the two were curled up on the couch, Remus' head resting on Logan's thighs. Logan sipped hot chocolate from his #1 DICK-tator mug, a Christmas gift from Remus, carding his fingers through the other's hair as a true crime documentary played on the T.V. Maybe, he thought, world domination could wait a bit when he had his whole world lying right in his lap.

---

Ah! I’m so glad I finally finished this! Think of it as my own little celebratory work to welcome in the new Animaniacs reboot.

Taglist: @bullet-tothefeels

#sanders sides #intrulogical #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical pinky and the brain au #slight angst

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akorah · 3 years ago

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If you want to know why I write Theo Nott the way I do, look no further than Will Herondale & Julian Blackthorn. I could write a full dissertation on why I love Will & Julian more than life, but I’ll spare you (most) of that.

(vague spoilers for The Infernal Devices and The Dark Artifices trilogies by Cassandra Clare)

Both witnessed someone they love die, and believed it was their fault.

Both morally grey as fuck, but with ironclad codes of honor.

Both would do literally anything for the people they love, including murder.

Will is chaotic on the outside and steadfast on the inside; Julian is chaotic on the inside and steadfast on the outside.

When they fall in love, they’re all in.

As for my favorite moments...

"Is there a particular reason you keep biting vampires?”

Will touched the dried blood on his wrists, and smiled. “They don’t expect it.”

- Clockwork Angel, ch. 11

“That was enterprising.” Will sounded nearly impressed.

Nate smiled. Tessa shot him a furious look. “Don’t look pleased with yourself. When Will says ‘enterprising,’ he means ‘morally deficient.’”

"No, I mean enterprising,” said Will. “When I mean morally deficient, I say, ‘Now, that’s something I would have done.’”

- Clockwork Angel, ch. 16

Julian looked over and smiled. The smile made him look like sunlight in human form. It didn’t hurt that the dish towel around his neck had kittens on it, and there was pancake batter on his calloused hands.

- Lady Midnight, ch. 3

A car burst from the road and hurtled into the center of the clearing. A familiar red Toyota. The headlights burned through the darkness, sweeping across the field, illuminating the Mantids.

A figure knelt on the car’s roof, a light crossbow raised to its shoulder.

Julian.

The car shot forward, and Julian rose to his feet, lifting the crossbow. ...

Pride swelled in Emma. People often acted as if Julian couldn’t be a warrior because he was gentle in his life, gentle to his friends and family.

People were wrong.

- Lady Midnight, ch. 9

“To return to the issue of betrayal—” Jace began.

"What if I told you I expected betrayal?” said Julian. “In fact, that I was counting on it? That it was part of my plan?”

"What plan?” said Jace.

"I always have a plan,” said Julian calmly.

Dru lifted her coffee cup. “It’s great to have you back, Jules. I missed your lunatic schemes.”

- Queen of Air & Darkness, ch. 26

#theodore nott #characterization #will herondale #julian blackthorn #julian is definitely a slytherin #will is definitely a hufflepuff

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dwellordream · 4 years ago

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“...In presenting that value-set, I also think Dhuoda provides a valuable corrective to current pop-cultural assumptions about the values and behavior of the medieval aristocracy (often considered with little concern for the variety created by the vastness of the period). In this pop-imagining, the nobility is cynical and machiavellian: they break faith regularly, are at best irreligious (and frequently actively anti-clerical), they often brutish, largely holding ‘book learning’ in contempt, and hold to strict realpolitik (‘power is power’).

We might call this the Game of Thrones aristocratic values (if it seems like I pick on Game of Thrones a lot here, it is because it is by far, above and away the most culturally impactful representation of the Middle Ages – albeit in fantasy form – in the last decade at least), but the same basic framework shows up in the nobility of The Witcher (novels, games and series) and dozens of lesser works; those sets of assumptions in turn seep into works that at least imagine themselves to be historical (particularly the crop of middling historically set medieval political dramas that emerged in Game of Thrones‘ wake, most of which, it seems, feature scheming, amoral, irreligious and often brutish aristocrats).

And of course it doesn’t come from nowhere – the grim turn in the presentation of the medieval nobility is itself a reaction against an older trend of presenting the European Middle Ages as a lost period of morality, a ‘clean’ past (think The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) or even to an extent the Lord of the Rings (but only if one has not read the Silmarillion)). And that vision – all chivalry and little violence (a vision which is itself a terrible misunderstanding of what chivalry was and to whom it applied) – is worth reacting against. The courts of the actual Middle Ages were not inhabited by perfect, pious Sir Galahads. These were military aristocrats; they did quite a bit of fighting, much of it very nasty. In a week or two, we’ll take a closer look at some military aristocrats writing about violence (Bertran de Born and Antarah Ibn Shaddad, to be specific); their attitude is hardly pacific.

But for now, I want to focus on the contrast between Carolingian values and the Game of Thrones aristocratic package. In no small part because, quite frankly, I find the GoT aristocratic package showing up more and more in my own students and the assumptions they make about how people in the past viewed their world: that learning was devalued, that religion was viewed cynically, and that ‘power politics’ was normal and accepted (you may sense the presence of some of the underlying assumptions of the Cult of the Badass there as well – if knights were powerful fighters, mustn’t they be badasses as well? But this is an anachronism – the medieval vision of the great fighter (e.g. Roland from the Song of Roland) has precious little to do with the modern ‘badass’ action hero)

...Of course the most obvious difference is in Dhuoda’s emphasis on William keeping his vow of homage, both because such an oath was literally sacred and people in the past generally believed their own religion, but also because – as she quite clearly flags – breaking troth without justification could be well and truly dangerous in a society that functionally ran on oaths of fealty. These social dictates meant something quite important to this class.

...Another clear difference is the value placed on counsel and learning. The GoT aristocrat often attends councils but rarely take counsel meaningfully; they bark at their subordinates, belittle their ideas and generally bully them (this isn’t restricted to Game of Thrones of course; cf. both Richard and William Wallace in Braveheart for instance). But Dhuoda stresses the need to both offer good counsel and to listen to it as well. This is by no means unique to Dhuoda – cf. Einhard on Charlemagne’s temperament in court (which in turn becomes a fixture of the chansons – the old, often wise king, patiently holding court and listening carefully to his advisors; often this figure is, as in Roland, quite literally Charlemagne). An important component of the ideal lord was one who took counsel effectively, and an ideal vassal offered it eloquently and intelligently (note that Dhuoda stresses both the content of the advice but also the quality of its delivery).

And of course that was important. The advisers to high lords and kings were themselves (along with a handful of scholars and clerics) important military men. Were a king to opt, instead of listening patiently, to berate and shame his subordinates, he might well end up with a war on his hands (as, of course, Charles eventually does when he executes Bernard; while William dies in 850, his brother (also Bernard) remains a thorn in Charles’s side until the latter’s death in 877.) And in a military system where armies were composed of a retinue-of-retinues generating consensus among the major aristocrats (the men Dhuoda calls magnati) was crucial for actually winning those conflicts.

And where the GoT aristocrat is often dismissive of ‘book learning’ of any sort (GoT, in contrast to its books, quite clearly concludes that Tyrion’s book habit is a useless waste of time and he seems to be the only member of the nobility who engages in it), Dhuoda is adamant: reading is important, as are learned men at court. I honestly wonder why the nobles of Westeros continue to maintain maesters given that they never listen to them. Contrast Dhuoda’s advice: read, and collect a lot of books, she tells William. And she is demonstrating that emphasis; Dhuoda is at pains to show off her own reading and learning throughout – one imagines as a way of building credibility with her reader (her son). That performance of education is one she expects will be understood and respected by other military aristocrats.

In this, Dhuoda is not unique, but an exemplar of her historical moment, the Carolingian Renaissance, a resurgence of literacy and interest in literary culture. Einhard goes on at some length about the education Charlemagne made sure his children had (and how Charlemagne himself, starting late in life, strove to be proficient at reading and writing, but was never more the middling). Charlemagne even went to considerable lengths to assemble scholars in his court (particularly through Alcuin of York; one of these learned men recruited by him was Einhard). That emphasis that the king and his court ought to be learned continues through the later Carolingians (Dhuoda’s contemporaries) and into the High Middle Ages (the period c. 1000 to c. 1300). Whereas the Carolingian era effectively ends in the tenth century, literacy continues to widen over the following centuries; in a sense, the Carolingian Renaissance doesn’t really end.

And finally, this was a society that – rather than being cynical about their religion – was absolutely soaked through with it. Religious thinking was not limited to Church or prayer, but suffused how these fellows thought about politics and every day life. Major political decisions were made with deference to religious concerns (demonstrated most dramatically, perhaps, in the ability of a series of Popes to humble a sequence of German emperors during the investiture controversy). Secular leaders – including the aforementioned Louis the Pious most famously – poured resources into religious observance both to demonstrate piety, but also in the very real fear for their own souls. Even ruthless monarchs were often quite religiously observant (Edward I Longshanks, – the villain of Braveheart – for instance, was a very regular church-goer).

Now, does all of this mean that medieval courts were a paradise of proper conduct? Of course not. The annals of the periods feature their share of rogues and scoundrels who are accused of defying the standards of aristocratic values in one way or another. And even within the standards, there was plenty of space for violence – conflicting obligations, situations where multiple vassals felt entitled (through inheritance or promise) to the same land or title and so on. There was no shortage of potential justifications for conflict, but those justifications are typically framed with within the aristocratic code of conduct, as a product of its conflicting obligations, rather than simple, opportunistic realpolitik.

...Contrary to the popular image of a boorish and brutish group, it was an aristocracy that valued literacy and learning and placed great store in a shared code of conduct (which, again, was not a peaceful code of conduct – there were rules, but those rules involved quite a lot of violence and did almost nothing to protect most commoners) and tremendous weight on religious observance. The ideal Carolingian warrior-aristocrat was literate, pious, considered and slow to anger, taking counsel from their greater vassals, fearsome on the battlefield and fearful in the Church.”

- Bret Devereaux, “A Trip Through Dhuoda of Uzès (Carolingian Values).”

#carolingian #history #medieval #early middle ages #high middle ages #writing #bret devereaux

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padme-amitabha · 5 years ago

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Prequel And George Lucas Appreciation Post

This is an ongoing list of everything I appreciate about the Star Wars Prequels (and by extension the Original Trilogy) and appreciation of George Lucas’ vision and a tribute to Star Wars when it was still about morals and depth because Disney is intent on ruining the franchise and George’s creation. I am only referring to the six original films here and the list is in no particular order.

1. Villains - One thing that Lucas does well is creating great antagonists. Now Darth Vader being a great villain and character is pretty self-explanatory but I love the way his character is handled in the movies. He is presented in three different ways in each film, or that’s how I interpret it anyway.

We see him being an imperial in ANH and a bereaucratic one at that. He is defending the battle station and basically doing his job i.e trying to locate the stolen plans. In ESB, he is suddenly a much bigger threat. He is the epitome of evil which is further enhanced by the stunning visuals. He is the ultimate bad guy who Luke has to defeat to become a Jedi. What we did not expect is the “I am your father” reveal and that Luke is defeated and manages to escape in the end. The Darth Vader in ROTJ is much more subservient and loyal to the Emperor. He obeys the emperor and waits for Luke to show up and is not much of a threat. He is also shown to be very conflicted and tries to convince Luke to join him rather than making Luke join him against his will. The reason I think he’s portrayed differently is because the story is from Luke’s perspective. Yoda and Obi-Wan led Luke to believe Vader is evil and the narrative stays faithful to that. However, when Luke realizes the word of the Jedi cannot fully be trusted, he decides to come to his own conclusion and sees the conflict and good in his father after a brief conversation. Even with the black and white symbolism in the OT, we are introduced to the gray area in ROTJ when it’s revealed Darth Vader is not as evil as he appears to be and the “good” Jedi can just be as manipulative and biased (as acknowledged by Obi-Wan clinging to his own point of view and encouraging a boy to kill/fight his father without even sharing the information with him) - and Lucas continues to explore this in the Prequels.

The Prequels are about the fall of a centuries old noble religious order and how a single man managed to bring an end to democracy. History shows to bring down an established government it must have some structural flaws and as such the Jedi are shown to be just as bureaucratic as the imperials in ANH; the Jedi are portrayed in a negative light. The Jedi had grown arrogant in their abilities and had grown personal loyalties (such as Mace Windu to the Republic) and they were too blind to acknowledge the flaws in their perception. Qui-Gon was an exception to this and he was more compassionate and better Jedi like the knights in the Old Republic and his death in TPM foreshadows the fall of the Jedi order and of the golden era of the Jedi. At the end of the trilogy, Yoda and Obi-Wan are the sole survivors. It proves even the wise and experienced Yoda could be wrong as he confessed to Qui-Gon in ROTS. Obi-Wan was a Jedi who was very loyal to the order and the council and wished to follow the code by the book and still over the years he had grown attached to Anakin and had a strong emotional bond with him which was why he was still alive although deeply affected by the events. Hence, both Yoda and Obi-Wan were forced to acknowledge the weaknesses in their order and as a result grew as characters.

The prequels also demonstrate how the strict and flawed ways of the Jedi drastically changed Anakin’s life and how he struggled to fit in the order but at the same time making a point that the code didn’t change the lives of all the Jedi such as Obi-Wan who was quite content as a Jedi. The contrast shows how the lifestyle affected people like Anakin who were ruled by their emotions, and how it ended up pushing him to the dark side.

Palpatine is another great villain in contrast to Vader because he is anything but conflicted. He is the true epitome of evil and unapologetically so. I have seen very few stories actually pulling this off because a character who’s purely evil tends to be one dimensional or run the risk of coming across as incompetent even though the creator tries to tell us that they are very capable, such as Lord Voldemort from Harry Potter. However, this can be done well if the main focus of the story isn’t on the main villain by minimising their screentime so they still appear a looming threat till the main character(s) defeat them in the end and accomplish something, as done with Fire Lord Ozai from ATLA and Palpatine in OT. Palpatine is a looming, sort of foreign threat in the background who is shown to be purely evil and chaotic and he only appears in the last film. He isn’t defeated by the hero but by his own apprentice who served him for years. Vader is the main villain in OT and of course a great one at that. But the PT establishes that Palpatine is very much an accomplished villain as well. He’s a treacherous Sith Lord who has managed to evade the Jedi at the height of their power by hiding in plain sight. He orchestrates a galactic war by playing both sides and emerges victorious. He turns the clones against their allies and comes to power by latching onto emergency powers, much like Hitler. Even without Anakin/Vader’s help, he’s fairly successful in eradicating an entire order by studying and utilizing their weaknesses.

One of his greatest accomplishments is manipulating Anakin for years and slowly grooming him to be the perfect Sith apprentice. He takes his time to get in his head and establishing trust and knows exactly what to say to win him over, and while he is doing this he isn’t sitting idle. He has other apprentices whom he discards after they serve a purpose. He is ambitious and always scheming and I would say he’s a pretty successful politician too as he had quite a few supporters in the Senate to be elected Supreme Chancellor. He was the ultimate mastermind pulling the strings and manipulating everyone around him even Padmé in TPM.

As others have noted before me, the titles of the prequels have multiple meanings. While Darth Maul is shown to be the Phantom Menace in regards to being a mysterious figure who looks like the devil himself and stalking the main characters, so is Sheev Palpatine and Queen Amidala in the sense neither are who they pretend to be. Padmé’s two identities are obvious in the film while Palpatine’s double identity remains hidden. The Attack of the Clones can also be interpreted as Palpatine vs Sidious as they are the leaders of the both sides and they are referred to as clones as they are identical i.e. the same person. I also love how they incorporated the emperor’s theme from ROTJ into the ending theme in TPM and it’s a subtle reminder that it’s as just as much Palpatine’s victory in being elected chancellor.

I personally don’t mind that Maul was killed off in TPM because even though he lost to Obi-Wan it wasn’t before he killed an accomplished Jedi Knight. He was just as skilled as them and we see the Jedi struggle to keep up even with their strength in numbers. I love the fact that he more like a silent assassin because a lot of villains have a habit of chattering which is often utilised by the heroes to win, and Maul still retained the sense of mystery around him by the end of the film.

It’s pretty well-known that Maul, Dooku and Grievous all foreshadow the rise of Darth Vader, the franchise’s most iconic villain. Maul is a Sith Lord who unquestioningly obeys Sidious, Dooku is a former Jedi who left the order due to ideological differences and also personal ambition and Grievous is part cyborg with a preistent cough (similar to Vader’s wheezing) to make a point that technology is not without limitations and also a reminder of his humanity.

All in all I think Lucas is a genius who has managed to give us pretty amazing and actually proficient villains who could give the heroes a run for their money.

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sidespart · 5 years ago

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Scattered part 2

Part 1

Logince fantasy AU somewhat based off of tsubasa reservoir chronicles

This part is a bit shorter but I figure little and often is the best way to actually get this finished.

(Also in the original drawing this started as Logan and Roman def look older then they’re described here. thats not foreshadowing anything I just hadn’t decided they were gonna be wee)

Logan Sanders is a high school student who loves maths and cats and wishes he didn’t think Elon Musk is as cool as he does

(“Yes I am aware all billionaires are inherently morally deficient but he sent a car into SPACE Roman”)

Roman Prince is Logan’s best friend.

Roman is 5 days younger then Logan and loves singing and theather and getting Passionate About Causes.

They’ve known each other since they were both extremely small. Neither of them can actually remember meeting for the first time but their parents have many, many embarrassing baby photos to share.

People who don’t know them wouldn’t assume they were best friends - they’re the kind of friends who express their love through constant arguing and teasing. Who support each other by pushing each other.

Roman has big dreams and an over active imagination. Logan thinks most of his goals are entirely unrealistic and his life would be vastly improved if he could only Calm Down.

Logan is fastidious and takes forever to complete anything as he has to break it down into 1000 micro tasks which must be ticked off in order. Roman thinks he’s such a stick in the mud life is going to pass him by completely.

Neither of them are much good with other people (Roman being Too Much and Logan being Not Enough) but they’ve got each other. They get each other.

When they were little they used to spend a lot of time at this quirky old antique shop that’s equidistant from both their houses.

The owner is this older dude called Emile who was happy to watch them and would tell them stories about every single item in there.

Roman was always totally enraptured. Logan used to enjoy it but the older he got the more he found himself rolling his eyes at Emile’s stories. They tend to include a lot of magic and silliness and are generally NOT historically accurate.

Also he never seems to sell anything?? Logan once tried to convince him to let him set up an Etsy for the shop but Emile just laughed and said his shop was for granting wishes, not making money.

Logan worries about his business practices.

Anyway.

There’s this dance coming up at school.

Logan doesn’t really like dances or parties but he knows about this one because Roman got himself on the planning committee and hasn’t talked about anything else since.

Roman talks about the colour scheme and the food and the music and the lgbtq+ inclusivity posters he made unprompted. And the timing and the dress code and the drinks and his outfit (he talks a lot about his outfit).

He doesn’t talk about who he’s going with.

He does ask Logan if he’s got a ticket, and then WHY hasn’t he got a ticket and then WILL you get a ticket? For me? I mean, in solidarity with me and the planning committee?

And Logan does because he has a hard time saying no to Roman.

And. Because it’s kindve nice. How badly Roman wants him there.

(And because secretly he thinks it would be kind’ve nice to go to the dance with Roman. Like. Together together.)

He sort of thought maybe Roman was going to ask him. They were watching the Witcher - in their own homes but texting, (and then talking over the phone because Logan has a lot more video game v books v show thoughts then he can quickly express through type) - and Roman interrupted him to say “I needtoaskyousomething...”

-and then there was this pause where Logan absolutely did not hold his breath-

“ .... tomorrow. I’Il ask you tomorrow. Promise.”)

Logan tells himself not to expect anything. Roman could very well be about to ask him to pick up extra napkins for the dance or something. But he’s a little giddy getting ready for school anyway.

They normally meet outside Emile’s shop and walk to school together from there. Today, Logan is there first like normal. Unlike normal Emile actually has a customer - there’s a larger guy standing behind Logan looking at the window display.

Later, Logan will blame the fact that he’s too busy staring at Roman running to meet him, too busy thinking ‘I’ll ask you tomorrow” over and over, too busy standing there being dumb basically - for why he doesn’t notice the guy turn around.

‘The guy’ who doesn’t really have a human face. Or human eyes.

But he’s definitely staring at Roman too.

Bonus doodles:

#logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #ts scattered #emile basically being yuukomlight for anyone following the tsubassa references #bullet point fic #scattered au #fanart #logan is our hero but also...he baby #NEXT PART NO MORE SET UP #JUST PLOT #and actually maybe a little bit more set up #were you expecting emile to be in this? because i was not

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terrible-leviathan · 4 years ago

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Okay Okay Okay. So I'm not really done with the second part yet (it got long so I'm separating it into two sort of parts) but I just wanted to get your thoughts (feel free to answer this one privately, just cause I don't know if you wanna spam your problems with this wip)

The cabin in the snow had always been a warm place. Despite the callous legends and myths surrounding its’ inhabitants, the home itself had always been rather…cozy. With polished wood, fuzzy carpets, and the perfect amount of heat radiating from the fireplace, the cabin had always been an oasis; a reprieve from the cruel desert of ice outside.

It supposedly warmed the even the cruelest of hearts. The home allowed Blood Gods to read on plush couches, it allowed Angels of Death to sip hot chocolate by fires, it allowed Endermen Hyrbids to calm down.

It warmed the coldest of souls, and melted the roughest of exteriors.

Except, for apparently, one.

For no fire, and no warmth, could melt the man who wore ice itself as shield.

They were seated around a dinner table, polished acacia with miscellaneous fillings that helplessly tried to disguise the countless knife marks scarring the wood. There were candles on the table, and while they usually provided light, tonight they only served to cast shadows.

Ranboo hadn’t been particularly thrilled when Phil had invited Wilbur to dinner. But he had obliged. He was Phil’s son. He deserved a chance to have dinner with his father.

And apparently his father’s piglin-hybrid roommate, and ender-hybrid neighbor.

Ranboo, of course, had tried to avoid the engagement, but Phil had insisted. Phil had begged. And at the insecurity evident in the eyes of the immortal, at the fear of him of being alone with his son, the worry of rejection prominent in his plea, Ranboo had agreed.

But now, sitting across from Wilbur, with Phil and Techno on his right and left, Ranboo knew he should’ve just said no.

“So, Phil.” Wilbur started, a small smile on his face as aimlessly swirled the dark red drink in his hand, “How’ve you been?”

Phil’s eyes widened, “Oh! I—I’ve been good, Wil, I’ve—uh—I’ve missed you. A lot.”

Wilbur’s eyes softened slightly as he smiled at his father, “I’ve missed you too, Phil.”

A grin formed on Ranboo’s face as something lit up in Phil’s eyes.

“It really is nice to have you back,” Phil whispered, “I don’t—it’s been so long.”

“Yeah,” He whispered, “It has—“ His eyes darted towards Ranboo, “Obviously, though, you’ve been doing well enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ranboo questioned.

Wilbur’s eyes widened, as if struck by the fact that Ranboo was addressing him, “Hm? Oh, nothing really, just that I am very happy that Phil found someone to take care of. Someone whose battles he’d be willing to fight. Someone who doesn’t fight their own.

Ranboo’s hand clutched his drink with white knuckles, “I don’t like conflict, that doesn’t mean I need someone else to fight my battles. I don’t get into battles.”

Wilbur scoffed, “You avoid battles. You’re spineless.” He spat the word like a curse, setting down his goblet with a thud. Something inside his eyes dimmed as he said it, fingers curling into tightly wound fists.

Ranboo wanted to let it go. He really did. And he would’ve, too. He would’ve allowed the insult to stay rooted in his mind, untouched and unmoving, yet diligently ignored nonetheless. He would’ve kept smiling and laughing awkwardly, his lips barely stretching into a thin smile, and his eyes barely disguising his discomfort.

He would’ve.

He would’ve done it for Phil.

If Wilbur had just stopped talking, then he would’ve been able to let it go.

But the man always seemed to have so much to say, and so with a twinkle in his eye and a dramatic flourish in his movements, words had kept flowing from his mouth.

“I was thrilled to have dinner with you, Phil,” Wilbur murmured, “Me and you. I thought it was just going to be me and you. I wasn’t surprised to hear you’d invited Techno, of course, why would that possibly come as a surprise at this point? But you didn’t even stop there, no—“ His gaze sharpened on Ranboo once again, “I’m stuck passing the potatoes to a coward.”

“Wilbur,” Phil warned, sighing slightly, “Ranboo hasn’t done anything to you—“

“Exactly!” Wilbur cried, “He hasn’t done anything! He’s just sat there! Staring! He won’t even say anything back to me—“ Wilbur stopped, shaking his head and laughing, “I really do wonder how you and Tubbo get along so well, Tubbo’s far braver than you could ever hope to be, although I don’t even really understand what he sees in you—“

“That’s it!” Ranboo cried, slamming his hands onto the table in front of him. Phil and Techno both jerked their eyes towards him. Phil looked nervous, agitated, whereas Techno looked as if he would rather be anywhere else. Or maybe that was just his normal face. Ranboo could never tell.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow, “Oh is it? That’s it? Tell me, Rahnboo, what it is you’ve had enough of?”

“You, for one,” Ranboo murmured.

Wilbur let out a loud chuckle, “Oh! So the little Enderman has a spine after all, does he? Come on, Ranboo,” His eyes flickered with something, and for a moment Ranboo though he could see sadness. He thought he could see behind a facade of ice, behind the grin of a showman. But just as soon as it had came, it had disappeared.

And Ranboo was still pissed.

“I’m not a coward,” He bit out, “I—I try to be there for my friends, I always try to—“

“You try?” Wilbur repeated, “Tell me, Ranboo, how hard did you try when your so-called ‘friends’ were stuck in a cacophony of fire, when they were being surrounded by a crumbling country, when they were left to the mercy of Phil and Techno? How hard did you try then?”

Ranboo shook his head, “That was different—“

“Was it? You let them get hurt, you allowed the burns to stain their skin and the scars to mar their chests, you—“

“You blew up the country yourself!” Ranboo cried, leaning over towards Wilbur, “I might have let it happen, but at least I didn’t press the button! I wasn’t the one who destroyed what Tommy loved, I wasn't the one who hurt him so badly that he trembles when saying your name, I’m not the one that put Tubbo through so much pain that he can’t even look at one of his old suits without crying—“ Ranboo shook his head, “I might not be perfect, but at least I’m not you!”

A silence drifted over the table. Phil looked up at him with shock, indiscernible emotions lurking behind his eyes. Ranboo knew he should apologize. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what for.

Technoblade drummed his hand on the table once, before standing up with an awkward cough, “I’m gonna go get some more meat, I—“

“Oh no, Techno.” Wilbur murmured, head tilted in amusement as a grin stretched across his face, “This little Dinner Party just got a lot more fun. You wouldn’t want to miss the…festivities would you?”

Techno didn’t seem impressed, but his eyes instinctually shot to Phil, and at a pleading glance from his closest friend, he sat back down.

“So you’re personal grievance against me is because I hurt Tommy? Hurt Tubbo?” Wilbur asked with a small grin, “You hate anyone who’s hurt them?”

Ranboo nodded, his eyes steely. He would protect Tommy and Tubbo and Michael with his life. And from what he had seen, Wilbur only wanted to hurt them. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt them, he had to protect the people he cared about.

So he spoke the one word he knew to be true. “Yes.”

For a moment there was silence, and the a brash laugh echoed from inside of Wilbur’s chest. He threw his head back, the cry of laughter seemingly being too much to bear. The rest of them simply watched him in unease, cringing as his chuckles echoed inside the room that now seemed much to small.

Once the trickle of laughs died down, and Wilbur wiped a few nonexistent tears from his eyes, he turned back to Ranboo, an almost victorious smile on his face.

“Hypocrite.” He murmured, “You’re a fucking hypocrite! You are a spineless child who only follows his moral code when it’s convenient for him. You aren’t even a liar, Ranboo—“ He shook his head with a laugh, “You’re just an idiot.”

Wilbur expected that to be the end, as if he had played the final note in his song, tied up the engagement with one last piece of string. But Ranboo’s eyes had darkened, and he was done taking his bullshit.

“AND YOU IDOLIZE TOMMY’S ABUSER!” Ranboo yelled, “You saw what he did to Tommy in exile, you saw what he did to Tubbo! You see what an absolute monster he is, and you don’t care!”

“Of course I care!” Wilbur cried, eyes wide. He stopped speaking immediately, as if ashamed by his own words. Why anyone would be ashamed of caring, Ranboo did not know. But that didn’t stop the trembling man in front of him.

“What I meant to say,” Wilbur rephrased tensely, “Is that I have a code. Dream is the hero. He is the only one who can save us. What he did to Tommy, to Tubbo, to me, is unimportant in the grand scheme of the world. I don’t care if it makes anger pool in my stomach, I don’t care if it makes my vision turn red, I don’t care if it makes my blood feel like lava. I don’t care.” He chuckled, “I can’t care.”

A frown settled onto Ranboo’s face, “Dream has hurt the people you care about, so why the hell do you still idolize him?”

Wilbur chuckled lightly, “The raven should never insult the crow—” He gestured to Phil and Techno around him, “—if they have the same feathers.”

Ranboo shook his head, “What does that even mean? That doesn’t—you’re not making any sense.”

Wilbur chuckled darkly, “I know I’m a monster. I know I’m the bad guy. The villain. But if you believe my adoration for Dream is a sin because he’s ‘hurt people’, then tell me, Ranboo, how can you possibly sit in this house, a contented smile on your face, and laugh and joke and grin with the gods and immortals who’ve hurt the very people you claim to defend?”

Ranboo’s eyes turned to Phil, then to Techno. That was different. Phil and Techno were good. Sure they didn’t get along with Tommy and Tubbo, but they would never hurt him.

Ranboo shook his head, “They would never hurt them the way Dream did. They would never hurt one of them on purpose, they would never kill one of them.”

Techno’s utensils fell from his hands with a clatter.

Ranboo raised a questioning eyebrow at him, as the Blood God had frozen in his seat.

For a moment Wilbur looked shocked, his eyes turned to Techno, almost appalled. Then he jerked his head to Phil, who still looked confused and comfortable, then he moved his gaze back to Techno, and eventually towards Ranboo once again.

“I—wow,” Wilbur murmured, running a hand over his face, “I almost—I almost don’t know what to say—“

Ranboo simply shrank back into his chair as Wilbur cocked his head.

“Do you know about the whole—“ He gestured his hands in a small pop, mouthing the word boom.

“Of course I do,” Ranboo answered easily, “But I don’t blame Techno and Phil for what happened to L’manburg on Doomsday. I don’t hold that against them, and I don’t really even think—“

“No, no, no!” Wilbur said with a laugh, waving him off, “You think I care about that country being blown to bits? Of course not! I don’t care. I never cared. Ever. What I’m talking about it a much smaller boom—“ He chuckled to himself, “But a much more colorful one.”

Ranboo turned towards Techno, whose eyes had darkened.

“Wilbur,” He started, “I don’t really want—“

“OH!” Wilbur cried as his eyes widened, slamming his hands down on the wood and leaning forwards towards Ranboo, “You don’t know!” He cried. It wasn’t a question, it was a realization. A realization that made the hairs on Ranboo’s neck stand up.

He laughed awkwardly, already fearing the answer, “Know what?”

Wilbur shook his head as he ran his hand down his face, “Holy fuck. This is—this is too much,” He turned towards Techno, a laugh bubbling out of his throat, “I—I can’t believe you never told him!”

Techno’s eyes narrowed, “I have told him. Multiple times. But it doesn’t really strike me as polite dinner conversation—”

Wilbur waved Techno off, turning back towards Ranboo.

“Tell me, Ranboo,” He murmured, “What are your thoughts on fireworks?”

MATCH AAA

Genuinely the way I slapped my hand to my mouth so many times cuz HOMEWRECKBUR HOMEWRECKBUR !! Also I just love the way u did the whole buildup to this like u can literally tell how smug of a shit Wilbur is, how awkward and quiet the other people around the table are, and when Ranboo finally snapped like YESS HAVE A SPINE

Tho my only comment to this is it'd be more cool if u would show more of Philza and Techno's reaction especially when certain info gets revealed like the whole abuser thing and to Ranboo snapping cuz this boi rarely even shouts. But other than that, that was an absolute delight to read and I'm so fucking excited for the next part!!

Ranboo: I am against people who have hurt the people I care about. Specifically Tubbo, Michael, and Tommy.

Philza and Techno, who has beat the shit out of Tommy in a pit, who has shot multiple fireworks at Tubbo (and Tommy), who blew up their country just cuz they had a personal agenda against the two teens:

#also dw im totally ok with these types of things!!#if ur also ok with me posting it but if ur not i can always just delete it so lmk!!#asks

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voodoochili · 4 years ago

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My 75 Favorite Albums of 2020

Every year produces excellent music and 2020 was no exception. The exceptional thing about this year, though, is the loss of livelihood so many musicians suffered as a result of the pandemic. To better celebrate all I’ve listened to and loved this year, I’ve expanded my albums list from 50 to 75 albums and included a highlight track from each in the Spotify playlist below. If you like what you hear, why not throw the artist a few dollars on Bandcamp?

Check the Spotify playlist HERE.

Without further ado, my favorite albums of 2020. Happy New Year, and happy listening!

10. Playboi Carti - Whole Lotta Red: Carti’s long-awaited opus has only been out for a week, which is probably not a long enough time to give an album as sprawling and surprising as this one a full critical evaluation. But I do know when I’m hearing something that’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard: this album rearranges hip-hop at the molecular level.

Whole Lotta Red is overstuffed with invention, the glitchy, expansive production giving Carti ample opportunity to glom onto the contours of the beat and experiment with his voice. That voice is the album’s main attraction: it squeaks, it squeals, it roars, it spits, it shudders, and organizes itself into irresistibly ignorant mantras (my current favorite is “Lamborghini parked outside, it’s purple like lean”).

Across its 24 tracks (which feels like too many, sure, but only the 5-minute long Kid Cudi-infected droner “Metamorphosis” overstays its welcome), Carti plays with listener expectations, annihilating rap songwriting conventions (why do you need verse-chorus structure if every line is a hook) as he defiantly proclaims his desire to be unlike anybody else. Though it bears some resemblance in sound and subject matter to Future’s Monster (and much of the production owes a debt to the work of Lil Uzi Vert’s favored Working Of Dying collective), Whole Lotta Red firmly establishes Carti as a totemic figure connecting mainstream and underground sounds.

9. BbyMutha - Muthaland: BbyMutha is a natural born spitter, armed with a drawly stutter-stepping flow that routinely annihilates unconventional instrumentals. She glows with supreme confidence and comfort in her own skin, especially when she’s dripping with disdain with those who’d dare refuse her the respect she deserves. A 25-track opus that earns every minute of its runtime, Muthaland is an engrossing immersion into Mutha’s world, balancing a fascination with the occult (“Sorry I don’t fuck with n****s who don’t fuck with Satan”) with grounding interjections from close friends and her four children. Boasting rockstar fantasies like “Heavy Metal,” bad girl anthems like “Nice Guy,” and dancefloor-ready jams like “Cocaine Catwalk,” Muthaland is a tour-de-force by one of rap’s singular voices, and if she’s really finished with music as she’s claimed (rappers never really retire, but Mutha has indicated she wants to focus full time on her Apothecary), the game will greatly miss her incisive punchlines and crudely empowering perspective.

8. Westerman - Your Hero Is Not Dead: In 2020, Mid-’80s sophistipop grew into one of my favorite comfort foods. Westerman’s Your Hero Is Not Dead struck me directly in the sophistipop sweet spot, evoking the attention-to-detail and synth-heavy craftsmanship of that era and pairing it with harmonic complexity and a piercing emotionalism that recalls his idol Neil Young. On songs like “Blue Comanche” and “The Line,” Westerman constructs tales as twisty as his melodies, economically exploring how people relate to each other at the beginning and end of romantic relationships. Westerman complements his tasteful palette of synth sounds with intricate and lyrical guitar playing, most notably on the sighing, gorgeous instrumental “Float Over,” which softly segues into the title track to end the album on a gently-rising high note.

7. WizKid - Made In Lagos: The focal point of the sub-Saharan Afrobeats renaissance, Lagos is having one of the most exciting musical moments of any city since Kingston in the early ‘70s. WizKid is one of the scene’s biggest stars, with an ability to combine the sonic tapestry of his hometown with Caribbean-influenced beats and vocal styles. Made In Lagos is a masterwork of sound design, bringing creamy bass, chicken-scratch speckles of guitar, tasteful interjections of saxophone and brass, and an intoxicating mix of acoustic and electronic percussion, all offered in service to an immaculate vibe that matches the album cover’s shiny, monochromatic color scheme. Made with lockdown in mind, the album eschews uptempo dancefloor workouts in favor of stress-relief and romance. WizKid plays the perfect host, tamping down his melodic flights of fancy and embracing a song-serving smoothness. He’s a warm and inviting presence throughout, laying out the red carpet for a cross-continental cast of collaborators like H.E.R., Skepta, Burna Boy, and Damian Marley. The result is a truly global pop masterpiece, capable of brightening even the dourest day of a miserable year.

6. Ka - Descendants of Cain: Firefighter by day and rapper/producer by night, Ka is a master of allusion. He organizes his thoughts into themed collections of metaphor, illustrating the bleak realities of street life with gnomic symbolism. On Descendants Of Cain, Ka’s strongest work to date, the enigmatic rapper expresses himself through a litany of biblical references, drawing parallels between ancient parables (he goes far deeper than the Cain/’caine double entendre that rappers have been using for decades) and the stark code of morality with which he lives his life. The 48-year-old hermit produced the project himself, creating an immersive sonic realm, crafting expansive, noir-ish backing tracks populated by late-night saxophones, sparkling pianos, and the occasional shot of sweeping strings. Once again, Ka’s music comes almost entirely without drums (certainly without “beats” in the traditional hip-hop sense–every once in a while, he adds an open hi-hat or a subdued shaker), the artist preferring to let his music swirl around his half-whispered words of wisdom. The album ends on a tearful, sentimental note with “I Love (Mimi, Moms, Kev),” in which the artist ditches the biblical lyrical conceit and expresses his love for his wife, his mom, and his best friend atop light percussion and a warm soul sample.

5. SAULT - Untitled (Rise): Rise is the second part of a diptych that SAULT recorded in response to the movement that exploded in the wake of George Floyd’s death. Black Is, the first part, is a great album (you’ll find it in the lower reaches of my 2020 list), but the mysterious UK collective fulfilled their immense potential with Rise, a propulsive, powerful, and danceable album that doubles as a thought-provoking examination of the nature of freedom and liberation. The album tackles weighty topics–police violence, fake-woke “allies,” protest, cultural appropriation–but handles them with an inspiring effervescence and a propulsion meant to usher right-thinking people into the streets. The music itself is an intoxicating marvel, combining elements from every trendy musical movement from the early ‘80s (post-disco, post-punk, house, hip-hop, whatever the hell ESG was) into a percussive and surprisingly cohesive cocktail. The album immediately makes its greatness known with its first four songs, one of the strongest opening runs of any album in recent memory: the swaggering, funky, keep-your-head-up anthem “Strong,” which features a drum solo from SAULT architect Inflo, the soaring, club-ready vamp “Fearless,” concept-establishing, string-heavy interlude “Rise,” and especially “I Just Want to Dance,” the best song ESG never wrote.

4. Fiona Apple - Fetch The Bolt Cutters: Fetch The Bolt Cutters arrived with the kind of universal acclaim that can make some people suspicious. The Pitchfork review got a lot of attention, not just for its perfect score but for its bold statement that “no music has ever sounded quite like it.”

That statement might’ve been slightly hyperbolic. Fetch The Bolt Cutters has the kind of propulsive left-hand piano figures, chest-thumping percussion, and impassioned vocal performances that we haven’t heard since...the last Fiona Apple album. But the album deserves its experimental reputation. These songs mess around with song structure and melody in ways that resemble avant-garde singers like Meredith Monk, use overlapping vocals that occasionally evoke the works of post-modern composers like Luciano Berio, and echoing modernist composers like Edgard Varese in the way she wrings pathos out of rhythmic elements.

Though Fetch might be a slight step down from The Idler Wheel, it’s an invigorating listen, packed with the soul-baring confessionals that only Fiona is capable of executing. Combining literary wordplay with plainspoken directness, Fiona forces the listener to confront her trauma and contemplate her diagnoses of patriarchal ills. The songs are uniformly excellent–especially opener “I Want You To Love Me,” the most “traditional” song on the record, and “Shameika,” a burrowing childhood rumination with a happy ending–but Fetch The Bolt Cutters stands out to me as a collection of amazing moments: when the jig-like “For Her” fades into an unforgettably painful cadence (“Good mornin’, good mornin’/You raped me in the same bed your daughter was born in”), Fiona’s ground-shaking vocal intensity at the end of “Newspaper,” her dogs howling over the outro of “Fetch The Bolt Cutters,” the winking repetition of the title phrase on “Ladies.” Her albums display more than enough ambition to forgive the long gestation periods, but hopefully we won’t have to wait another 8 years for Fiona to bare her soul once again.

3. Drakeo The Ruler - Thank You For Using GTL: Embroiled in a Kafkaesque legal saga that shines a light on the worst aspects of our horrendous justice system, Drakeo The Ruler spent more than three years wrongly incarcerated for a crime he not only did not commit, but for which he was acquitted (for more info on Drakeo’s ordeal, read Jeff Weiss). He’s now mercifully a free man, mostly due to the work of his lawyer, but at least partially because of publicity generated by Thank You For Using GTL. Recorded over the phone from prison during the height of the pandemic, it’s a miracle that an album created under such sub-optimal conditions sounds as excellent as it does, but credit producer JoogSzn–who not only supplied the creeping, head-nodding backing tracks but recorded Drakeo’s phoned-in vocals–and engineer MixedByNavin for the project’s astonishing fidelity. Drakeo and Joog spent hours on the phone to record the album, in the process paying thousands of dollars to GTL, the predatory telecom company of choice for the L.A. corrections system, whose mechanical interjections serve as a constant reminder of the injustice that made the album necessary. Of course, a good story is a good story, but that alone doesn’t get an album on 2020’s most prestigious Best Albums list (mine). It’s a classic rap album, perhaps the best ever released by an incarcerated rapper, and a thumb directly in the nose of the D.A. and the LAPD. The album is a lyrical marvel, packed with winding wordplay and outlandish flexes, as Mr. Mosley takes aim at 6ix9ine, cackles at sorry-ass Instagram haters, and sneers at American-made cars (“To be honest, a Hellcat isn’t a foreign”). Each song has a carefully considered concept, the rapper’s punchlines building upon one another to make an airtight case for his status as L.A.’s top dog. He contrasts his own whip-crashing lifestyle with flashy wannabes on “GTA VI” and “Backflip or Sumn,” mourns a favorite department store on “RIP Barneys,” and proves he still doesn’t rap beef on “Maestro’s Tension.” The album’s masterstroke comes with “Fictional,” the final track, in which Drakeo exposes the prosecution’s use of his lyrics as evidence in criminal proceedings as the farce it is: “It might sound real, but it’s fictional/I love that my imagination gets to you.” Drakeo’s story was a rare bright spot in 2020, and a rare one with a happy ending. Just last week, the rapper released Because Y’All Asked, a studio-recorded version of Thank You For Using GTL, giving the album’s songs the clarity they deserve. But I think I’ll mostly return to the original, which will live on as an excellent album and a vital document of post-George Floyd America.

2. Pa Salieu - Send Them to Coventry: Hailing from the middle of nowhere–or, more accurately city in the English Midlands only known in the states for its middling Premier League team–Gambian-British artist Pa Salieu served up the most distinctive, visceral, and daring rap debut of the year. His style fuses elements of grime, drill, afro-trap, dancehall, and the darker edges of U.S. hip-hop into a percussive slurry, injected with the urgency of his struggle to survive. The magic of the album comes from the way Pa’s fluid flows interact with the shimmering and foreboding production (Felix Joseph and Aod lead the cast of the project’s sound architects), which is perfectly suited for cold city nights. He slips effortlessly into the pocket, toe-tagging the beats with a combination of aggression and trance-like meditation and uttering casually powerful pronouncements (“I'd make a killa riddim offa any riddim/The grind can never stop 'til I'm wrapped in linen”) that make you believe he’s Britain’s next great rapper. Pa keeps the vibe consistent throughout, but the moments that stand out are the moments when he locks into an unbreakable groove over no-frills production, like on singles “Block Boy,” “Betty,” and “B***K.” The artist’s wry sense of humor and brash confidence keeps the album from feeling bleak, but Send Them To Coventry wisely ends on “Energy,” a warm and bright ode to keeping your creative spark safe from the prying forces of fame and fortune.

1. Kassa Overall - I Think I’m Good: “I think I’m good”–a phrase that’s ran through my head throughout this shitstorm of a year. Sure, I postponed a wedding, cancelled trips, and saw my friends and family much less often than I would like, but I count myself among the lucky ones. Still breathing, still sane. Though it was recorded and released before the pandemic started, Kassa Overall’s I Think I’m Good became a lodestar of sorts for me. It’s a brilliantly introspective and deeply personal album about existing in enclosed spaces–whether a jail cell, an NYC subway car, or the inescapable prison of your own body.

Kassa Overall made his name as a jazz drummer, touring with icons like Geri Allen, but his solo music incorporates elements of hip-hop, classical, and trap to create a wholly original milieu. The album features contributions from over 30 accomplished voices, ranging from luminary Vijay Iyer, to Kassa’s saxophonist brother Carlos Overall, to virtuosic pianist Sullivan Fortner, to venerated activist Angela Davis. But all the disparate elements come together in service of Kassa’s deeply personal and engrossing vision.

Taking partial inspiration from Kassa’s struggle with manic depression, the music fluctuates between meditative calm and unbearable tension, mimicking the patter of an unquiet mind. Album opener “Visible Walls,” is a mesmerizing prayer for salvation soundtracked by fluttering harps, piercing woodwinds, and heartbeat percussion. “Find Me” buries a plea for help within a cacophony of sampled voices and rattling piano notes. Fortner’s piano guides us through the hauntingly devastating “Halfway House” and the Chopin-indebted “Darkness In Mind,” each highlighting a different stage of grief (despair and acceptance, respectively). The arc of I Think I’m Good concludes with the hopeful “Got Me A Plan” and “Was She Happy (For Geri Allen),” a Vijay Iyer-assisted tribute to his late friend and mentor.

It’s ironic that an album that so deeply explores the feeling of isolation vibrates with such a collaborative spirit. I Think I’m Good feels like an answered prayer–a community coming together to check on a beloved friend who’s gone through a tough time: “You good, man?” “I think so.”

Here’s the rest of my list.

11. Yves Tumor - Heaven To A Tortured Mind 12. Shackleton & Waclaw Zimpel - Primal Forms 13. Bob Dylan - Rough & Rowdy Ways 14. Duval Timothy - Help 15. Lil Uzi Vert - Eternal Atake 16. Moodymann - Taken Away 17. Secret Drum Band - Chuva 18. J Hus - Big Conspiracy 19. Headie One & Fred Again - GANG 20. Tiwa Savage - Celia 21. Andras - Joyful 22. Bill Callahan - Gold Record 23. King Von - Welcome To O’Block 24. Flo Milli - Ho, Why Is You Here? 25. Chubby & The Gang - Speed Kills 26. Madeline Kenney - Sucker’s Lunch 27. Empty Country - Empty Country 28. Smino - She Already Decided 29. Destroyer - Have We Met 30. Yves Jarvis - Sundry Rock Song Stock 31. Ela Minus - Acts Of Rebellion 32. Creeper - Sex, Death & The Infinite Void 33. Alabaster DePlume - To Cy & Lee: Instrumentals, Vol. 1 34. Good Sad Happy Bad - Shades 35. The 1975 - Notes On a Conditional Form 36. Kate NV - Room For The Moon 37. $ilkmoney - Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 38. Eddie Chacon - Pleasure, Joy and Happiness 39. Kenny Segal & Serengeti - Ajai 40. Bad Bunny - YHLQMDLG 41. Kahlil Blu - DOG 42. Califone - Echo Mine 43. Boldy James - The Price of Tea in China/Manger On McNichols/The Versace Tape 44. Bufiman - Albumsi 45. Moses Boyd - Dark Matter 46. Thanya Iyer - KIND 47. Jyoti - Mama You Can Bet! 48. Obongjayar - Which Way Is Forward? 49. Rio Da Yung OG - City On My Back 50. Young Jesus - Welcome To Conceptual Beach 51. Owen Pallett - Island 52. Oceanator - Things I Never Said 53. Shootergang Kony - Red Paint Reverend 54. Shabason, Krgovich & Harris - Philadelphia 55. Six Organs of Admittance - Companion Rises 56. Lido Pimienta - Miss Colombia 57. Kelly Lee Owens - Inner Song 58. Polo G - The GOAT 59. Actress - Karma & Desire 60. Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher 61. Porridge Radio - Every Bad 62. Yg Teck - Eyes Won’t Close 63. Mozzy - Beyond Bulletproof 64. Ratboys - Printer’s Devil 65. R.A.P. Ferreira - Purple Moonlight Pages 66. Ulver - Flowers of Evil 67. Rina Sawayama - SAWAYAMA 68. SAULT - Untitled (Black Is) 69. Ezra Feinberg - Recumbent Speech 70. Davido - A Better Time 71. Hailu Mergia - Yene Mircha 72. HAIM - Women In Music Pt. III 73. Half Waif - The Caretaker 74. Key Glock - Yellow Tape 75. KeiyAa - Forever Your Girl

#kassa overall #pa salieu #drakeo the ruler #fiona apple #sault #ka #wizkid #westerman #playboi carti #bbymutha

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