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#also because potentially Temperance knew neither of them would go down that specific path
nazyalenskyszoya · 10 months
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I don't know what the general consensus on the How Will They Break The Curse Theory Department is and I am terrible at speculating (this show is smart, I'm dumb) but has anyone considered that maybe a possible solution would be for Nancy and Ace to just. die? Like. Just a good ole soul reboot?
Something about Ace saying "real love isn't dying for eachother" so adamantly and Nancy immediately going "then what is it??" like she's so sure that IS what real love means, kind of had me going why haven't we tried this? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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thefreelanceangel · 3 years
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Shadowbringers Is Finally Ended
With Patch 5.55 and the official end of the Shadowbringers story, setting up now for Endwalker in November, there are now a few months ahead to grind gear, finish content and reflect on the most recent expansion.
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And, without any hyperbole, I can say definitively that I have never in my life been as impressed with a game's writing as I have that of Shadowbringers, both the original expansion and a lot of the patch content. I have... thoughts.
I'm a bit of an outlier; I skipped Stormblood (oops) and went straight from completing Heavensward (which greatly impressed me at the time and still does) into Shadowbringers because I wanted to get a max level character already.
Within the first few cutscenes of Shadowbringers, I was absolutely hooked.
First, let me just say that "monstrous angels" is 100% My Thing. I ADORE the reinterpretation of the standard "Renaissance art angelic figures" into something closer to incomprehensible beings taking on twisted, terrifying appearances. The human mind is a finite thing and comprehending an angel would be as difficult as comprehending infinity; these are things so alien to our experience that assuming they'd be easy to grasp and familiar feels disingenuous to me.
So the sin-eaters and the Lightwardens? SLAP.
Also, the intent behind the usage of "Light" in Shadowbringers was deliberate and purposeful. Our Lord and Savior, Yoshi-P, stated this clearly in his Forbes interview.
"The inception of this idea was very simple: in recent fantasy works, the perception that light equates to good and dark equates to evil is very set in stone, we wanted to shake this up a bit.
"Until this point in Final Fantasy XIV, our players have been Warriors of Light: the hero. However, with Shadowbringers, we leave the Source and embark on a journey to the First, and through this I want our players to discover the truth of the world, as well as think about the real nature of light and dark. That is the theme of Shadowbringers.
"In any case, a light too strong could potentially become evil. Darkness and night are also necessary for the world to maintain its balance; that's the kind of theme we will be shedding light on."
And the themes in Shadowbringers had such an amazing resonance that they were both painfully clear and masterfully executed. Not only was the theme of "balance" clearly executed in the "returning Darkness to a world flooded by Light" goal, but the desire for players to "think about the real nature of light and dark" showed in a multitude of ways.
The Warriors of Light (who we met as the Warriors of Darkness in Heavensward) are, in their home world, reviled. They directly caused the Flood which nearly destroyed their home and although they were able to save it with personal sacrifice, the populace at large is unaware of that sacrifice. The motives behind what the Warriors did is essentially lost to history; all that remains is the perception of their actions and the results thereof.
Motives, however, which you (player and WoL) are privy to.
"At long last, you see. To save our world, we gave our lives. We were just adventurers trying to make our way. An odd job here, a favor there—we never aspired to be Warriors of Light. But word of our deeds spread, and soon people were calling us heroes. They placed their hopes and dreams on our shoulders and bid us fight for all that was good and right. We fought and we fought and we fought...until there was no one left to fight. We won...and now our world is being erased from existence. We did everything right, everything that was asked of us, and still—still it came to this! You of all people should understand! We cannot—we will not falter. We brought our world to the brink of destruction, and now we must save it."
You had that fight with the Warriors of Darkness. You heard Ardbert explain exactly what happened, how they came to the point where they faced off against you, and you saw what happened when they were given the choice to hold back the Flood. And you were there when the one favor Ardbert asked was for the Warriors of Darkness to be taken home.
You see how the First remembers them and it's stark contrast to the heroes you met who were fighting desperately to save people who now spit on their names. History quite clearly has two sides and which you believe is dependent entirely on what information you have.
This becomes even more of a clear theme when you meet Emet-Selch and learn more about the Calamity which led to the entire Zodiark/Hydaelyn duality. Here, your previous experiences with Ascians has painted them solely as "villains." They are established enemies, manipulating events and people in order to attain goals which, to you, are nothing but Calamities.
And yet, as you learn more about the original Source and the Amaurotines that once lived on it, these goals are painted in an entirely new light. Instead of merely seeking to wipe out "the world" for no apparent reason or, at best guess, greater power for their deity Zodiark, the Ascians were striving to repair the damage done by the original Sundering. They, in a manner of speaking, were doing what the Warriors of Darkness were. What you, the Warrior of Light, have been doing. They were trying to restore what was lost.
Which leads into another of Shadowbringers' major themes: grief and loss.
The earliest touches of this are in Alisaie's questlines where you learn about what happens to people tainted by the Light. Families are destroyed, people are transmuted into sin-eaters and those who avoid that fate must stand by and watch as their loved ones fall to something far worse than death. "A Purchase of Fruit" shows you exactly what the end result is while also highlighting something very specific: with no hope of removing the Light's taint, knowing that all that awaits the tainted is a painful transmutation and existence as a sin-eater, those untainted make the best they can of those last days and end the tainted individual's pain before it begins.
Grief, yes. Loss? Absolutely. And yet, this is a loving, compassionate thing that those in Amh Araeng are doing. They face their own grief and loss. Rather than refusing to accept the actuality of their circumstances or refuse to weigh themselves down with taking a decisive action, they make the choice to face their grief and loss directly, even willingly taking on the guilt of their actions rather than leaving the tainted to suffer.
Magnus in Twine lost his wife and son, which immobilizes him. He can't find solance in anything save alcohol and brooding over their graves. It takes outside interference to pull him directly from his grief, to help him see past the loss of his family and look towards the future where life might once again be worth living. His struggle with grief is painfully familiar and so very, very close to many real life struggles that it's extremely poignant.
This struggle with grief is the fight the Ascians are, without question, losing. Let's set aside the "tempering" argument when it comes to Emet-Selch and Elidibus for the moment, largely because it's actually quite true that grief can spur people into committing horrific acts either as a desperate attempt to assuage their own pain (revenge) or make 'things right' in some way (vengeance).
Emet-Selch does not, in fact, properly grieve for Amaurot and the Ancients he knew. He clings to them, as Hythlodaeus tells us, weighed down by an aching sense of loss.
"And though he may carry himself with a certain glib ease, Emet-Selch is not a man to bear his burdens lightly. In fact, I imagine they have only grown heavier with every passing century. ...T'is truly a terrible weight he has chosen to carry."
Quite significantly is the word "chosen" in that. Grief is a process that involves, eventually, letting go of the pain and living with the memories of what was loved and what no longer is. Emet-Selch chooses not to do that. He does not grieve for Amaurot and his lost loved ones; he refuses, no matter how often he mentions his loss, to admit that what is gone is gone.
Elidibus, rather similarly, refuses to accept that the duty he took on when called upon to become Zodiark's heart is finally at an end. That the world he and Emet-Selch originated from is gone. Although he admits that he can barely remember why he's set on this path, he refuses to turn away from him.
One won't forget, one can barely remember--neither will grieve and let go.
Even the Ascians' characteristic arrogance and disdain for what they consider "lesser beings" is easy to read as their long-lasting struggle with grief. Considering the Sundering, all the beings that the Ascians are so disdainful of are, in fact, echoes of that which they once knew. If they acknowledged that, accepted those beings as what they are and perhaps even admitted they had worth... well... Rather like realizing abruptly that you've spent a whole day without thinking of someone recently departed, it feels like a betrayal.
To find value in the worlds as they currently are, to turn away from the duty they were asked to uphold, to choose to lay down the memories of the past are all, in essence, choices the Ascians will not make because to do so would be to let go of what's lost, to move into the acceptance of grief and that can feel like betraying those whose memories are slowly fading.
Emet-Selch's end--"Remember us."--is directly tied to his refusal to forget. To let himself have even one day without hoping for an eventuality that's highly unlikely regardless of effort, without remembering the Sundering and the Final Days. He remembered, forcefully and tenaciously, and wishes that legacy to live beyond him.
While Elidibus, in remembering, unable to deny failure any longer, finally expresses grief and loss. "My people. My brothers. ...My friends. Stay strong. Keep the faith. At duty's end, we will meet again. We will. We will. The rains have ceased, and we have been graced with another beautiful day. But you are not here to see it."
And coming from villains, quite specifically from villains that have been largely indistinct "puppet master" figures throughout the previous expansions, these story arcs were a punch to the gut. (Yes, I had to pause writing this to cry helplessly over Elidibus again because my gods, that last line just...) Villains are at their best in fiction when they're relatable. When it's so very easy to see that thin line between villain and hero.
Faced with the loss of everything you'd ever loved, with the faintest possibility of getting it back, what would you do? What wouldn't you do? Yes, the Ascians did terrible things and that's undeniable. Stopping them was necessary to save hundreds of thousands of lives. And doing so, being victorious, didn't feel like a victory and that is such a rare, rare thing in media. The Warrior of Light does the right thing, but in doing so, must face the fact that those they've been fighting have hopes and dreams and feelings and pain as real and as motivating as theirs.
And Shadowbringers does such an impressive job of turning those standard tropes around. Heroes are a dime a dozen because if you just awaken them, as Elidibus did with the starshower, well, there can be dozens of Warriors running around. Villains have heart-wrenching motivations and relatable reasons for their goals. History is multi-faceted and no one person knows what the "truth" truly is. Grief can spur people to helping others (i.e. the tank Role Quest ending) or it can fester and go unhealed and create nothing but more destruction.
There is so much that Shadowbringers did beautifully, I don't have the time to touch on all of it. The lack of "breaking the flawed system fixes everything" trope following Eulmore's liberation from Vauthry and the struggles that Eulmore faces in trying to build a functional, working social order for themselves. Embracing the value of childish dreams and tending to the smallest, most overlooked victims of trauma with the Pixie Tribal Quests. Dealing with a commander whose soldiers died and seeing Lyna's survivor's guilt. Seeing how having a single, unified goal can inspire and rally people into putting differences aside and helping each other.
Shadowbringers has finally ended with Patch 5.55. The story on the First ended with Patch 5.3. And all I can say is that this is a game that I will never forget.
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REVIEW: RWBY – Vol. 4, Ch. 9: “TWO STEPS FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK”
I mean, that basically means you haven’t moved, right? But it is four more steps to add to your cardio logs. I’m normally one for a short episode title, and also one that makes a bit more sense. Though I can tell what it’s saying, if only for the reason that this week’s episode gave us bits of the old RWBY sprinkled in with the new.
Welcome to my review of the 9th Chapter of the 4th Volume, entitled, “Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back”.
This week gave us: an What Would Korra Do? moment, summoning up a favour, former acquaintances, and manly hugs.
Spoilers after the jump.
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Perhaps the largest sprinkling of the old RWBY features the character that defined the new RWBY, this more mature story where the consequences are suddenly everything. Yang knows as well as anyone about consequences, and her story this week, her first appearance in an understandably long time, is all about reflecting on the consequences, be it of Yang’s own actions or those of her rarely-mentioned mother.
It is then not surprising, in reflecting on this episode, that Yang’s sparring scene with her father is the story with the most heart of this week’s episode. It reminded of Legend of Korra, specifically the transformation that Avatar Korra undergoes throughout the final run of that particular series. It struck me because Korra, for much of her story, was just like our first impression of Yang: hot-headed, not afraid to gamble on her abilities, and still fiercely fighting the good fight. But a hero who takes that path is likely to meet their fall as a consequence, direct or indirect, of their own actions on that path. Korra, time and time again, met such a fall.
From the midpoint of Volume 3 onwards, RWBY was distinctly redefined (for those in the audience that failed to pick up any of the signs in its first two runs), and Yang was the focal point of that moment. Since then, she’s been through the absolute ringer. But now that she is through it, and just about ready to rejoin the fight, she has time to press the brakes and reflect on where her actions have taken her. 
Is a new approach required? I would say yes, given the consequences that were dished out to her last season as a result of her decision-making. The Mercury incident was unjustly visited on her, and the Adam incident was tragic, I won’t deny either of those things. But they were direct results of her decisions, and she paid a price which is now reshaping her focus.
Of course, as Taiyang says, going “through” every problem without thinking was the most clearly-defined trait of Yang’s mother, and from what we’ve seen, Raven Branwen isn’t exactly a shining example of how to go about one’s business. Yang, however, has the potential to take her mother’s ferocity and temper it with some good old-fashioned balance.
The tension in the at-times adversarial relationship between Yang and her father set us up well this week for more boss-lady Weiss, being forced to listen to her brother speak. The instant I saw him on the screen, I wanted him to shut up. And yet he kept talking. Maddening. It must have been for Weiss as well, who,  after telling him two or three or times to gtfo, just magically slams the door in his face.
Then Weiss, in more boss-lady fashion, succeeds in summoning a smaller-scale version of the armoured knight which she fought in her very first trailer. And “smaller-scale” does not mean “unimpressive”. We are told this quite firmly both through the effects (her bedroom window smashing – I pictured her climbing out with some satisfaction) and through the score, which swells with strings to punctuate the moment. It was almost too much, given this is a show not really taken with such overtly orchestral pieces. But it works simply because it’s Weiss, and because it’s more than the moment on the screen. From the window breaking to Weiss asking a favour of Klein, to her own satisfaction with what she’s accomplished, this scene reintroduces the idea of freedom to her life, not just as something nebulous, but as something very much within reach. To be honest, I would have been happy to see more of Weiss’s story, since I believed after “Punished” that her story would accelerate more than it did in this episode. Still, another scene of Weiss being a boss satisfies the soul.
And of course, we couldn’t just squeeze Blake and Team RNJR out of the episode, since their respective stories ended on such cliffhangers last time out. It was strange, but when Blake’s scene started, I’d almost forgotten that she and Sun were chasing a White Fang spy.
Anyway, there isn’t much to talk about with this scene. Blake retrieves the scroll that Ilia, the spy, stole previously – of course the two know each other, I don’t know how that’s surprising anyone at this point, including Sun – and Sun is pretty badly wounded. Oh, and the Menagerie appears to have more substance than was first let on. We knew from the start that the local White Fang were in league with Adam’s “splinter” group, but that was really it. But if an old acquaintance is telling Blake that she shouldn’t have returned, that could mean there’s potential for this slumbering storyline to go haywire.
The final scene features Team RJNR – wait, is that the first time this season that Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang have all appeared in the same episode? Oh, and now all that’s left is to get them all in the same scene? Wow, I had no idea... -_-
So, with Qrow now looking short odds to peace-out of living, Team RJNR has a decision to make. Mistral is finally in relative reach, how far they don’t know exactly but Qrow is not likely to survive the most direct route. Ruby and Jaune opt to find the nearest village or town for Qrow’s care, and Ren is dead-set against it. And I mean, agitated. He really has a thing about these little villages in the boondocks. Understandable, of course.
Team RJNR splits up. Yes, the amalgamation of a team that broke up and another that lost a member splits up, with Ren and Nora going ahead on the path to Mistral, and Ruby and Jaune taking Qrow away for help. With the music expressing how sad this parting of the ways is, it got me thinking, “What are the odds that they go the full Game of Thrones and these five never get together again?” The giant footprint of some unknown, probably hostile beast does not bode well. To be honest, neither did “Kuroyuri”, the destination of Ruby and Jaune, scratched out on the signpost. Hmm.
No, don’t think about all that. Be positive. Think about Weiss bossing it constantly. Ah, that’s better.
I thought, watching Yang’s scene play out, that this episode was going to be more evenly paced than it was. Were any of the scenes unnecessary? The hard part of the analysis is that I have to say no to that question. We haven’t seen Weiss in a while, even after I thought we would have seen more between “Punished” and now, and we haven’t seen Yang for even longer, but that was clearly necessary to show her progress. The other two resolved stories from last week and ended with new cliffhangers on top of the one at the end of Weiss’s scene. At the moment, it feels like Yang’s is the only story that the show can now put down and come back to after a few weeks, along with the enigmatic adventures of Ozpin and Oscar.
Not anymore, of course, given there are only three episodes left in the season.
Does it mean that the episodes of this last triplet are going to be considerably longer? Has Volume 4′s Game of Thrones-y mentality and structure – which has had problems but also largely worked to scale – gotten to that point, where we’re going to have to keep up with everything week-on-week?
I doubt it. But I do worry that there are three episodes remaining, and the puzzle pieces of the Volume 4 experiment are still rather scattered. Only now, Yang is looking ready to come back. Weiss may escape from Atlas, next time we see her. Or maybe not. 
It’s a matter of payoff for the journeys that all of these characters have been on this season. And as much as I talk about the logic of this season, people still want to see Team RWBY back together. As do I. And all of these stories need to all come together at a precise moment for the Volume 4 experiment to have achieved its maximum potential. What will that look like? Who knows, at this stage, and who knows whether the writers have had the nous to make it work.
But Volume 4 has still worked a treat. It was bold to go with such a new structure in the first place, and this season has still dished up a lot to enjoy on the subtle side of things.
So I remain confident that if it times its leaps right, this final stanza will be one to remember.
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