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fridaypls · 1 month

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A Different Look At This Scene

I know, what more could possibly be said about it? But let me try.

We've watch our boy intently, seen every flicker of sadness, fear, shame, rage, hatred... It's all beautiful. Now, let's savor Cazador's end from the bastard's perspective.

Convinced of His Own Power

His Sulkiness ain't scared yet. He's not in control, but he hasn't internalized that yet - Cazador has been a predator for so long, he doesn't remember what it feels like to be the prey. He's still, somehow, at least fractionally convinced of his own power.

"The spawn will never be free - he is my creation, now and for eternity!" Not his name - never his name. "The spawn."

Look at the supposed-to-be charming 'let's be reasonable' smile slipping and barely restrained rage taking over for a second. This is not a man who is used to restraining his anger for anyone. He is aching to be violent.

With a gentle movement of the dagger, Astarion reminding him who holds the power here. The agonized sadness and hurt on his face.

And Baron Bats-for-Brains continuing to treat him disrespectfully, talking down to him as though speaking rudely to a child.

...but watch his focus drift back to the dagger, though.

Back to Astarion. The righteous anger, the conviction, again that lean in we see in other shots where he wants to get his point across. He slaps his own trauma down, looks Lord Leech dead in the undead eyes and, in beautiful Astarion fashion, tells him I'm not yours.

"You might have made me what I am, but I am so much more than you created me to be."

He doesn't deny what he is - instead, he claims his own future for himself. Okay, back to the bastard.

The beautiful visual metaphor of silencing his abuser as the camera angle drags the tip of the blade across the Sneering Snivel's lips. I love it. Flawless. *chefs kiss* Thank you, Larian, it's so good.

"But I am grateful for one thing; you really showed me how to savor moments like this."

Something we know from what Astarion says about the Pompous Parasite is that Cazador liked to make it hurt; he liked the screams, he enjoyed the anticipation of the moment, drawing out the torturous seconds before the blow. Extracting noises he called music.

Astarion gives that torture of anticipation back to him in this moment and it's beautiful. Watch Sir Suck-a-Lot's eyes drift from Astarion's face to the dagger again, then that flicker of concern as he eyes it. We hate the f*cker, but he does have a good poker face when he wants to.

A moment for Astarion in his power before we go back to the bastard;

Finally, the F*cker's Fear

Finally some FEAR and realization on that hateful face. The weight of this all has sunk in now. He's lost control, he has no power, he's about to be stabbed many times, by someone he knows has a massive pile of very detailed and horrifically specific reasons to hate him.

He's fucked. He finally knows that.

Look at the Shadow Slitherer staring at the dagger, look at the fear position of his hands, the way he bows his head at the end, even before Astarion's hand is in his hair.

The Duke of Dracula's Dumpster has finally recognized his end.

Okay, first... let's just enjoy this for a moment. It's glorious, we love it... savor it. Someone should feel good from this. (...and it's not going to be Astarion.)

Enjoyed? Good. Alright, here we we go again.

Oh My God, The Eye Contact

Watch Astarion stare into his eyes as he raises the blade, the way he rips his gaze gack to savor the bastard's face as the second and third stabs get slammed in.

Pain on Marquis Mirthless's face, one agonized glance up at Astarion's face before his eyes shudder closed. The single plea for mercy; No! before he's stabbed 14 times.

The camera reminding us of the scars he put on Astarion, of why we're here... what Astarion's giving up by killing Cazador instead of ascending.

Controlling Him With His Hair

So I'm gonna guess that I'm not the only one in this thread with a little trauma... does that grab and yank look like re-enacted trauma to you? Because it does to me.

Something tells me Cazador knew it was coming, too. Good.

The Blade Flip

Just... appreciate it for a moment. He's fully in the throes of a very chaotic moment and has both the presence of mind and dexterity to show off. With a purpose

"I am so much more than you created me to be."

Flinging that in Count Cringeworthy's face while literally stabbing him to death. Flawless. Peak rogue behavior.

The message behind the flip, Cazador's twitching hands, Astarion's hand leaving his hair and the fury behind the next stabs.

The Escalation of Intensity

He changes his stance, sets his feet and rains down blows.

And they're still good, clean stabs. Look at the good rogue bladework he's taught himself, look at him put those stabs on a razor-straight plane going in and out. Maximum force on delivery, minimal effort on retrieval, really good and clearly practiced technique.

The way his hand mostly hovers over Cazador once he starts to fall. I don't think he wants to touch him again and honestly? I don't blame him. The dude was gross before and he's grosser now, all stabbed n bloody n shit.

The feral savagery of his face on those last few stabs. The ferocious hatred with which he pulls the blade free.

Seriously, that last scream and stab... look at everything in his eyes. The hatred, the two hundred years of trauma, the stolen life, the power he's rejecting, ...and, buried under everything else, the fear.

He had a plan coming into this; Ascendancy. That plan has come undone, he's set his feet on a new path and there is literally no going back.

The Realization

You can hear this gif, can't you? I want to give Neil a hug every time I listen to it, wondering what trauma was channeled into that moment. It's beautiful, it's poignant in a I had to reload the first time I heard it because I dropped my Steam deck, burst into tears and missed the rest of the scene way. It hurts.

The stagger back, the way he wrenches his eyes away from the body and stares at the ceiling. The look up of abject agony and almost disbelief that it's finally over... it's done.

The dazed wobble, falling brokenly to his knees.. catching himself on the bloodied hand still clutching the dagger. Looking at his bloody hand and the dagger. Apparently releasing it, because we don't see it in his hand again.

Here it is again, closer:

Recovering his balance, rising back to his knees... not ready to stand yet. Still stunned and dazed and waiting for the victorious and vindicated and triumphant feelings he's pretty sure are supposed to be happening right now to kick in.

His eyes turning to the bleeding out body of his former master. There's anguish, misery, the weight of so much trauma resting so heavily on his shoulders (and wasn't that supposed to be magically gone now?), watching Cazador twitch and bleed himself to death.

Has anyone ever wanted to comfort a fantasy character more than we did in this moment? Did it ruin anyone else's day that we couldn't comfort him early on? (updated this because apparently we can now?? I have no idea how I missed that. See you guys in a few days, haha, I know what I'll be doing)

Where he expected to find victory and celebration and triumph, he has found numbness and pain and loss. Loss of the power he gave up, loss of the illusion of safety he'd been clawing towards, loss of the idea of being free of the clawing hunger inside... loss of the hope that this death would bring him release from the torment inside.

But the death of a tormentor does not gift us with the death of the torment they perpetuated upon us. And so...

He weeps.

And we stand there. Until his siblings approach him first. Not with praise or comfort, no. They bring him their questions and needs. As, I'm guessing, they have always done to some degree.

Then there's the fucking pose. Kneeling, shoulders back, chin down, hands on thighs. Compare it to Cazador's almost matching pose earlier, as well as some of Astarion's comments about life under Cazador.

Then his siblings approach and has to put his armor on once more. Standing there half-naked, covered in blood, full of somehow both anguish and numbness, with the body of Cazador on the floor and both his found-family and forced-family about to meet for the first time.

As he has a thousand times before, he forces himself to be strong. Even though he has to struggle to get to his feet.

That little almost too-perfect smile. It’s practiced. Poised. The armor is back on.

Then he gets up, gets to his feet and carries on. As he always has. And for the same reason he always has.

Because he must.

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