Sometimes I wish I could explain to foreigners what the relationship of Czechs and Slovaks is.
'Cause we really are like sisterly nations. We used to be part of one empire for a really long time, then were one country for a quite some time and yet we were always quite separate in our identities and yet close enough that we still argue whether something is czech or slovak originally. Our languages are so similar that we can easily work in each other countries but they're still very distinct and czechs for example don't know how to speak or talk slovak.
But it goes even beyond that. Like even though it's been 30 years since we were one country we always feel this bond and so we always are aware of what's happening in each other countries and kinda idk I guess you kinda feel like it's partially still a bit your country too, you know?
Like for example: There was historically a tradition of czech president talking to the czechs on Christmas. Now Czechs have an asshole for a president. Slovaks have by some miracle chose a really lovely graceful amazing smart female president. So on Christmas the Czech TV actually played a speech from Slovak's president. And idk I feel proud that they have her.
The brutal murder of a slovak journalist and his girlfriend couple of years ago has truly shaken czech scene too and is still being felt here.
Now that one of the biggest mafia bosses and a slovak's ex-prime minister is quite possibly going to jail the Czechs are rooting for Slovaks to get it right.
Idk if I'm explaining it right. But there's just this bond. And like we can talk shit to each other and hate on each other but at the same time we instantly click in any foreign setting and there's just this like no need to explain because we are one mentality, you know what I mean?
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the quiet tragedy of verin being the one who never quite made it out.
for most of their lives, essek was the one who was entrenched in expectations, in the politics of their den. while verin was stationed far from the heart of the dynasty, ostensibly free from the eyes of his elders, essek was sitting beside their mother in court and speaking before the queen. and it made sense, because essek had always been better at all of it — the posturing, the sweet-talking, the ladder-climbing. his brother the black sleep was still his brother the prodigy; his brother the heretic was still his brother the shadowhand.
but then, essek meets new people and they get through to him and change him and make him softer, make him better (and why them? what is it about them, that they could do what verin never could?) and he runs. he gives up the title and the status and the power and leaves it all (leaves verin) behind.
suddenly, verin is the lone newsoul of den thelyss, the one with all eyes on him, with the expectations meant for two brothers falling squarely on his shoulders and only his in the absence of their other target. he is still the youngest of his den, the one they all watch and wait to be disappointed by, but there is no one to share that burden with anymore and all at once it becomes painfully clear that distance never really was freedom.
essek has a family, then — not a den but a family, with love and trust and care and warmth and all the things essek once called verin childish for craving — and a welcoming home to go to with someone who loves him waiting there and a garden in the front yard, and verin is left still fighting demons under the banner of a god (of a family, of a home) he only half-believes in.
and maybe they see each other more often then. maybe bazzoxan is remote enough that it’s safe for essek to visit in disguise. maybe essek’s friends come too and are kind enough to offer a taste of what essek has now and verin can almost believe it’s his too. maybe essek doesn’t even fight it anymore when verin insists on hugging him. but how much can that really fix? how much can it really change?
an unloved man leaves no one behind when he finally makes a better life for himself, but essek was never an unloved man. not really.
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I think a lot about what exactly Thistle was doing for those 1000 years. I mean, his increased monitoring of the dungeon was explicitly caused by Delgal going “missing” and a bunch of adventurers pouring in, but Yaad says that he’s “always been like this” and “not one for reasonable conversation.” I can see that being true for the rest of the golden kingdom members since he seems to not gaf about them beyond being part of Delgal’s kingdom, but what about Delgal himself?
How often did they speak and what did they talk about? Did Delgal ever beg Thistle to release them from his spell? Did Thistle ever threaten him, or would he never dare to? Could he tell Delgal was deeply miserable, or could he just not see it at that point?
He looks incredibly unwell here. How did Thistle feel about this? Did he feel anything at all, or was that nibbled out of him, too?
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the scene at the end of who's there?: eiffel is cut off mid-sentence (addressing minkowski), minkowski calls his name twice, and hera says, "commander... he's not showing up on any of my scans. he's gone." vs. brave new world: eiffel is cut off mid-sentence (addressing hera), minkowski calls his name twice, and hera says, "he's... commander, he's gone." in idle hands, eiffel regaining his autonomy ("hera, it's me. i'm me again.") is described: "there's a SOFT WOOSH, and eiffel's eyes go from spaced out to sharp focus." in brave new world, eiffel losing his memory is described: "there's a SOFT WOOSH, and his eyes go glassy." in mayday, hera's voice is the last one eiffel hears, the last voice in his head trying to keep him from giving up when he's sure he's about to die. in brave new world, eiffel loses his memory mid-thought while addressing hera, and so she was his last memory, the last thing on his mind. whatever. whatever.
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