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#he’s plenty traumatized i could have given him the seen the horrors eyes
rhadamantthys · 14 days
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stupid and dumb (bisexual who doesn’t pull)
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dinfeanoriel · 4 years
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Ghoul Rats and Gibdos
Boy, how I’ve missed writing! Hope you guys enjoy this 5k+ fic I’ve had laying around for months... ~~~~~
I swear to Hylia, if I’ve gone blind…
This was the first thought to filter across Twilight’s muddled mind when he cracked open to pitch blackness. There was no light, no glow, no luminescence of any kind to be found. It was as if the Ordonian had awoken to find himself trapped in a void. A place completely enshrouded by darkness. 
Tell me we did not switch while I was sleeping...
There was no answer save for the silence. Not a voice was to be heard, not a rustle, nor a breeze. Only the absence of sound. 
The Ranch Hand frowned starkly to himself. The absolute stillness and nothingness unsettled him. It reminded him of his time in Arbiter's Grounds- a time he would rather forget. 
Wonderful. How am I supposed to figure out where I am? 
He supposed he could light his lantern but there was no telling if any enemies were nearby. He didn’t want to risk being ambushed if there happened to be a band of Bokoblins or Moblins somewhere close. It wouldn’t do to fend off Dark Link’s infected enemies alone.
He strained his ears, going as far as to extend his senses but couldn’t detect a single sound or presence. With a sinking heart, Twilight came to the grim conclusion that the group must have been separated else the noise would have been plentiful. A welcome distraction from the inky darkness enshrouding him. He could not hear a single, comforting, heartbeat or calm, steady, breathing. He was alone with only the silence for company and no way of knowing whether or not his companions were safe and sound. 
Twilight suppressed the urge to growl. 
Displeasure mingled with worry welled in his chest. There were vague reminders of the time the children of Ordon had been abducted from their homes he couldn’t ignore. For weeks, Twilight hadn’t known whether or not Beth, Talo, Malo, and Colin were alive. Weeks he suffered and wallowed in uncertainty and fear for their lives yet he valiantly pressed on. He stalwartly refused to believe they were dead. 
 It was by chance he’d found them in Kakariko, virtually unharmed but not unaffected by the traumatic experience. Since then, Twilight found himself reluctant to allow anyone out of sight. He’d grown especially protective of the group of Links, keeping a watchful eye on every Hero and tracking where they went. 
It was a habit he couldn’t bring himself to break. An instinctive urge of his he knew grated on some of their nerves but he refused to explain himself. Wild had once tried to ask the reason behind his fierce vigilance only to receive an ambiguous response. The younger Hero merely shrugged it off and let his mentor do as he pleased. 
Twilight grit his teeth together, shoving the dark memories into the furthest corner of his mind. It wouldn’t do for him to linger on them. Three years had passed since that dreadful day and, yet, the experience stubbornly clung to him, refusing to relinquish its grasp. 
He shook his head, inwardly barking at himself to focus. 
Find the others. 
That was his singlemost priority as of this moment. 
A quiet hiss and soft, measured, footsteps from behind broke into Twilight’s thoughts, disproving his aforementioned belief of being alone. With bared teeth, Twilight spun on his heel, ready to attack should the unknown entity prove to be a foe. He instinctively moved to grip the handle of the Ordon sword, poised to unsheathe the blade and strike, but something stilled his hand. His senses weren’t warning him of any danger and he sensed no evil lurking around. He didn’t feel the least bit threatened by this presence. 
His hand slipped from the sword, moving instead to draw his lantern free from his pack. 
The chainlinks of the metal contraption clinked ominously and the ambient, red-orange, candle flared to life. The glow chased away the darkness and allowed Twilight to see- 
“Gah!” “Ah!” 
Two startled cries pierced the foreboding silence. 
Twilight’s heart thundered in his chest, beating a mile a minute as it struggled to overcome the sudden spike of undiluted fear that had seized it whole. He’d been given the scare of his life when the light of the lantern revealed something green and blue standing directly across from him. 
“Hylia’s Grace, Twilight!” Warrior breathed, his voice a pitch higher than normal. The Knight had a hand pressed to his chest, cobalt blues wide with an echo of shock and startlement. “I thought you were a poe!” Twilight, still recovering from his own fright, snapped back just as fraily, “I thought you were a Bokoblin!” 
The look of incredulity and affrontement stealing across Warrior’s features would have been amusing had both not been reeling and fighting to compose themselves. “A Bokoblin?” Warrior repeated sourly, “Really?” 
“What else was I to think?!” “Do Bokoblins wear scarves, Twilight?” The Captain flicked his scarf in emphasis, entirely deadpan in both looks and tone. Twilight defended himself, “You came out of nowhere, Warrior! All I saw was green and blue-” “-And all I heard was the clinking of your lantern!” 
The bickering died down, granting the Ordonian and Captain a moment to recover and collect themselves. The lantern swayed in place, basking them in a warm glow and keeping the darkness at bay. 
“Pretty sure I lost ten years of my life in a single second…” Twilight’s sharp hearing caught Warrior’s murmur. He snorted softly to himself and with a shake of his head, straightened his back and shoulders with a deep exhale. 
“Let’s find a way out of here.” The sooner they were out of the dreadful place the better. 
Warrior followed suit, “Let’s.” 
Slipping alongside the Captain, Twilight held his lantern up to illuminate their path. The Ranch Hand found himself glad for the company. He was reassured upon seeing Warrior unscathed. The blond did not appear the least bit frazzled or disgruntled by the sudden shift. He was calm and collected, taking the abrupt switch in stride and Twilight commended Warrior’s ability to remain level-headed and composed especially under duress. 
The more the Ordonian mulled on it, the more he realized he’d never seen Warrior crack when pressure was high or when circumstances were dire. He marveled at it and wondered if his capability to remain poised and unruffled stemmed from the wars he’d fought.
Together, they followed the tiled path leading across the sandy depths. Twilight suppressed a shudder. This place was increasingly similar to Arbiter’s Grounds. The darkened chamber, the broken and cracked tiles, the neverending sand, and the hollow and ruinous atmosphere… He half-expected stalchildren to unbury themselves and come swarming them with their minuscule spears. Arbiter’s Grounds had been a grisly and gruesome shock to Twilight. The tarnished history of Hyrule brought to life and accentuated the further he’d traversed into the desolate and ghastly dungeon. The heinous crimes committed there...the wretchedness and sufferings of the Gerudo prisoners...The tortured souls...the air of devastating despair and anguish and hopelessness capable of stealing his own living breath... It was not difficult for Twilight to understand what had taken place during the Gerudo-Hylian war. It was painstakingly, earth-shatteringly, clear and vivid. The unimaginable atrocities and horrors sickened him. Twilight persevered to the end of the daunting dungeon through sheer will and determination alone. Midna’s companionship helped. Had he been left on his own, Twilight wasn’t sure he would have managed to endure the vile and tragic environment. At times he swore he could hear the cries of the dead… 
The echoes of terrified, disconsolate, screams ringing in his ears and heart-rending wails piercing the still silence. Sometimes, he thought he caught glimpses of mutilated and deformed spirits floating listlessly and purposelessly, waiting to be released from their tormented state.  
The atmosphere was heavy with grief, wallowing despair, endless cruelty, and malevolence. 
“Oh, look!” Warrior’s voice drew Twilight from his dark thoughts and his keen eyes were quick to follow the direction he was pointing, “A door!” 
A locked door, they soon discovered. 
Blades hissed as swords were unsheathed and the two Heroes pressed their backs to one another, waiting. Twilight found their reaction to be a little saddening although he couldn’t deny his gladness for the distraction. After all, locked doors told of something to come. 
For a long anticipatory moment, both stood unmoving and weapons extended. Nothing happened. “What’s taking so long?” Twilight muttered, loud enough for Warrior to hear. The Captain surveyed the old, archaic chamber as best he could given the limited light. “I see torches there,” He said with a jut of his chin, “I’m guessing they need to be lit.” 
Twilight did so with a couple well-aimed swings. “I hate this part,” He groused to himself, earning a hum of agreeance from his companion. He wanted to be free of this place. He wanted to escape and never look back. He stepped closer to Warrior, ensuring little distance existed between them. The Knight took note of his movement but refrained from remarking on it. Instead, he adapted to the change in position and turned his body so he stood next to the Ordonian. 
Nothing prepared them for what took place next.
A deafening sound erupted from the furthermost wall. The chamber shook and groaned as intense tremors racked the foundation of the old depths. The ground and ceiling quaked violently, showering them with loose rocks and debris. Twilight and Warrior stumbled when the earth then wrenched beneath their feet, arms flailing uselessly as they strove vainly to maintain their balance. The world around them crashed and crumbled. 
The room fell apart. 
The ceiling caved, the walls collapsed, and the floor began to gyrate. 
Instant regret is what Twilight would identify the feelings coursing through him as. He grit his teeth together, expression hardening and growing fierce. “This is not what I imagined would happen!” Warrior’s voice was hardly audible over the chaos taking place around them. It was thanks to his heightened hearing Twilight was able to hear him. “What is going on?” 
Twilight had a sinking feeling he knew. He’d experienced this before. The severe and discomforting sense of déjà vu was so potent it momentarily threw him off-kilter. “Whatever you do, stay off the sand-” He started to holler, words drowned out and unable to reach Warrior through the pervading cacophony of sounds. The sands of the dungeon-like chamber started to drain, the tiles disappearing into its gulphs. “What?” 
It was this moment- this single split second- in which everything spiraled out of control. Warrior staggered back and off the stone ledge. His boot was immediately swallowed up by the thick, coiling, sand. Twilight could pinpoint the exact instant Warrior realized his costly mistake. The look on his face...the widening of his eyes… Twilight made a desperate lunge for his friend, an alarmed cry tearing from his throat, and arm extended in the hopes of snatching him back to safety- “Warrior!” 
The Captain’s back slammed into the sinking sand. 
I shouldn’t have lit the torches
The excruciating thought racked Twilight’s mind, body, and soul as he watched the sand engulf the Hero’s lower half and shoulders. The Ordonian snapped his hand out, curling his fingers tenaciously and yanking Warrior’s wrist. With nothing save but brute strength, Twilight combatted the might of the subsiding sands and succeeded in tearing Warrior partway free. His head, shoulders, and midriff were visible but it wasn’t enough to appease the horror-stricken and determined Hero. Cobalt blues locked onto cerulean and Twilight grimaced as his arm shook from exertion. The strength of the submerging sand forcefully pulling and tugging Warrior towards the center caused his muscles to scream in protest. He refused to relent. “Get out of here, Twilight!” Warrior shouted, earnest and concerned for the safety of his companion and friend. He recognized the dangers. He knew Twilight was risking his life trying to pull him to safety. 
Twilight despised the intrepidity etched into the Captain’s features. His eyes shone, fearless and bold in the face of certain death. Stubbornly, Twilight ignored Warrior’s urgings and bent forward to grasp Warrior’s forearm with his free hand. He leant back on his heels, hauling with all his might. The old, frail and rotting tiles beneath his feet splintered, cracks webbing across and bits of stone disintegrating. 
Pain flashed briefly across Warrior’s face then vanished. He grew more insistent, bellowing and shouting but Twilight couldn’t hear what he was saying. The thunderous roar of the chamber collapsing into itself filled his ears and when the tiles beneath him gave way under the strain, Twilight and Warrior were plunged into the whirling sands. 
Twilight was immersed in complete darkness. He sealed his lips and screwed his eyes shut as his body twisted and turned, prey to the sinking sands. He clung fast to Warrior, never relinquishing his grasp. 
The sands drained, drowning them in its unforgiving depths when suddenly, the disorienting whirling, tossing, and turning stalled and the world froze. Twilight felt gravity take its toll soon afterwards. His back crashed onto solid ground, his breath escaping him with a wheeze, and Warrior’s body tumbled atop him. 
Twilight’s mouth opened in a silent, breathless, gasp. No air left or entered his screaming lungs. The reservoir was completely depleted and a surge of panic ensnared him. 
Sand filtered around them, spilling into the room they’d been unceremoniously discarded into. 
Warrior was the first to recover, his fall having been softened by the unfortunate Twilight. His shock was cast aside as the Knight rolled and scrambled to his hands and knees. His attention was solely on his winded and wide-eyed rescuer. “Twilight!” 
Hands grasped his shoulders, Warrior’s face obscuring his vision of the rough-textured ceiling as the Knight spoke speedily and urgently to him. Twilight understood not a word. Warrior’s expression hardened with steely resolve. The Captain disappeared from view. A strong arm wound around his chest a second later and the Ordonian was effortlessly hauled to safety as the discharge of sand continued to flood the room.
At long last, the ability to breathe was granted to him and Twilight greedily sucked in a huge breath. “Sweet mother of breathing-” 
Warrior slumped with relief, plopping back onto the ground with a shaky exhale. 
The Ordonian remained collapsed against him, dropping his head back and shutting his eyes. 
Warrior was alive. They were alive. Neither of them had died. 
When next he looked, he found the Captain taking in their newfound surroundings with a critical eye before he turned and scrutinized Twilight’s prone form with a creased brow. When the Ordonian grimaced and tried to sit up, Warrior swiftly moved to help. He curled an arm around Twilight’s shoulder, lifting him with ease.  “That was a rough landing,” You don’t say, Twilight grumbled sassily. 
“You’re not hurt are you?” A thread of concern seeped into Warrior’s tone when the Ordonian remained seated. Twilight was simply relishing in his ability to breathe again. With a belated shake of his head, Twilight responded, “A little banged up and bruised,” He took another breath, “But other than that, I’m fine.” The answer satisfied Warrior. “Good to know.” Something in his tone alerted Twilight and the Hylian-turned-wolf studied the Captain in the corner of his eye. “What is it?” He muttered quietly. Warrior pursed his lips, gaze flickering to the far wall. The chamber they were in was brighter than the last with lit torches casting an eerie ambience. 
A chill raced down Twilight’s spine. A sense of wrongness, a deep thrum of warning, crawled along his skin. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, his inner wolf growling. “I don’t think we’re alone.” The foreboding words gravely spoken by the Captain urged Twilight to reach out with his senses once more. He closed his eyes, calling on his wolf spirit to aid him in an in-depth search of the room. A growl rumbled in Twilight’s chest and up to the back of his throat when he detected movement. His ears twitched, eyes narrowing dangerously in the direction Warrior was staring intently in. Warrior flashed him a quick, bemused, glance. “Tell me that was you.” “And if it wasn’t?” Twilight coyly replied. Warrior’s expression flat-lined. “Not funny.” His ears twitched again and Twilight sharply raised a hand in a gesture for silence. Warrior clicked his jaw shut. The Ordonian focused on the subtle sound he’d caught, trying to ascertain the cause of it and determine whether or not it was a threat. He ignored the steady beating of Warrior’s heart and his quiet, even, breathing, forcing them into the background. Something is in that room, Twilight signed. 
Warrior snapped to attention. Drawing his left up, he demanded to know, Threat? 
Without a doubt. Plan? 
Warrior pondered for a moment, perusing their limited options. With no knowledge of what to expect or what anomaly Twilight sensed could potentially be, there were few reliable plans to rely on. 
 Right approach. I’ll take left. 
The two separated into their designated directions, weapons drawn and ready. They crept silently towards the wall. Their eyes met the moment their backs touched the coarse bricks. 
Secret chamber. 
Opening? 
They needn’t look far. Warrior pressed against the wall and a protruding brick was slid back into place. 
The locks and gears of an unseen mechanism started to turn, grinding against one another with a resounding groan. 
Found it. 
Twilight suppressed a snort. 
You don’t say. It’s funny how sarcasm and sass could translate so blatantly clear in their use of sign. 
The entrance to the hidden room was revealed when a part of the wall jerked and coasted open. Dust trickled down on the waiting Heroes. 
Warrior took the first glance into the section. “Gibdos!” “You have got to be kidding…” If there was anything Twilight detested more than the disturbing, mutilated, and terrifying Poes in Arbiter’s Grounds, it was the rotten, bandage-wrapped, limping Gibdos. Their manner of walk, the dragging of their sword, their chilling screams capable of freezing one to the core, was something he could not forget so easily. 
The look on Warrior’s face was difficult for Twilight to interpret but he could recognize the horrified remembrance etched into his tense features. 
“Yours, then?” Twilight asked, risking a peek into the dank, musty, chamber. His nose crinkled from the nauseating scent of death and decay. His fierce eyes fell upon the bony, decrepit figure swathed in bandages and his brow creased. “No, mine.” Warrior spared him a sharp glance, “They’re from your world?” Twilight cocked an eyebrow, “You recognize them?” 
“How could I forget?” Warrior muttered in reply. Twilight shared the unspoken sentiment. 
A terrifying, blood-curdling, screech pierced the silence, cutting sharply into their exchange. The two Heroes pivoted around to discover three skeletal Gibdos gimping towards them. Deformed faces with gaping mouths, broken and distended jaws, and scarred or absent eyes, drew closer. “I’m beginning to believe your world is the most terrifying, Twilight,” Warrior remarked uneasily, shuffling closer to the Ordonian, “And I have yet to visit it. On to more important matters, we need to take these guys down. The three are in close proximity to one another, so-” “Range attacks.” 
Warrior blinked at the abrupt interruption. 
“What?” Twilight took a few steps backwards, features contorted with disgust and unease, “I usually attacked from a safe distance away. Bomb arrows.” He gestured vaguely to his pack. “You…” The corner of Warrior’s lips twitched upwards in repressed mirth. His eyes practically shown with amusement. Twilight narrowed his own with a small snarl, “Careful, or I will leave you to them.” 
Warrior bit his lower lip to keep from smiling. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, 
“Right, right. Sorry.” A snicker escaped before he could quell it. “By Hylia’s Grace, War-” 
“I’m sorry!” 
Twilight’s senses told him the Captain was completely unrepentant. A laugh broke loose. 
“You’re on your own.” 
“Hey! Get back here, mutt!”  ~~~~~
“So...How was it?” Twilight asked minutes later when an exasperated, adrenaline-filled, and mirthless Warrior stalked his way. 
“Absolutely wonderful,” Warrior deadpanned, “The thrill of battle, the adrenaline racing through my veins, and the song composed by swords and discordant shrieks was lovely. You should try it sometimes.” 
Twilight couldn’t suppress his grin. “In fact, why don’t you? I handled two of them. You’ll be fine with one, right?” Without giving the incredulous Twilight a chance to respond, Warrior plopped down on the ground beside him and slumped against the wall with his eyes closed and hands casually folded behind his head, “Good. I’ve done my share. It’s only fair you do yours.” 
“What?” 
Warrior peeked an eye open to find Twilight searching thoroughly for the remaining Gibdo. He released a small laugh, “I got rid of all three, Twi.” 
Twilight stilled, then, with agonizing slowness, turned to fix Warrior with a venomous glare. 
The Knight was unfazed. 
Twilight stewed in indignant silence. He utilized the time the Captain used to rest and regain his strength to think of ways to seek vengeance. 
“Alright,” The Captain grunted, moving to stand, “We should probably get a move on. There’s no telling where the others might be.” 
Twilight followed after him. He didn’t spare the dead Gibdos a single glance. 
“Not a fan of them, I take it?” Warrior teased lightly, nudging Twilight with his elbow. Twilight’s lips furled. 
“They are absolutely wretched. Their screams, their walk, the way they freeze you in place then jump and latch onto you-” Warrior abruptly stopped. 
“They what?” Twilight paused, turning slightly to find the Knight looking vaguely ill. 
“They latch onto you..? And...strangle you…” He trailed off at the glimmer of horror stealing across Warrior’s calm features.
“They do?!” The Knight slid a hand up to his neck, horrified. “Is that why they scream when they come close?” “...yes? It makes it easier for them if you are paralyzed and unable to move.” 
Understanding dawned on Warrior and he turned to shoot Twilight a penitent look. “That’s why you hate them so much.” 
Warrior looked horrified enough, Twilight figured, and so the Ordonian did not expound on how exactly the Redeads would fasten onto their victims. He spared the Knight the disturbing details. 
~~~~~
“I don’t like this.” 
The quiet-spoken words gently broke the eerie silence of the chamber Warrior and Twilight had stepped into. Yet another door leading to nothing but a dank, empty, and eerie room with chains, broken tiles, and vases. 
Twilight’s inner wolf huffed, shrinking into itself. Another intense wave of déjà vu washed over him and the Ranch Hand stifled a world-weary sigh. 
Something was wrong with this chamber. He could sense it. 
“There’s a door on the other side.” “Of course there is,” Twilight groused, rolling his head back to give the ceiling his best woe-is-me look. He dropped his chin forward and pursed his lips, “Should we dare to cross..?” 
Warrior hummed. With a small shrug, the Captain murmured, “We might as well go for it. How else will we find a way out?” “If we find a way out.” “Come now, Twi,” Warrior drawled, amusement seeping into his tone, “Have some faith!” 
“In what? You?” 
“Ouch. Felt that one.” Warrior slapped a hand over his heart with a look of mock hurt. He dropped his arm with a growing smile, “This is a first. I don’t think I have ever seen you so antsy before.” 
Twilight shot him a side-eyed glare but reluctantly followed after the Captain when Warrior started to make his way across. 
If Warrior’s strides were noticeably faster than usual, Twilight didn’t remark on it. It let him know he wasn’t the only one affected by whatever place they were trapped within. 
Keen, cobalt blues searched the hollow chamber endlessly. Twilight would not allow himself to be caught off guard by anything. There was no doubt in his mind that there was something in this chamber. It was only a matter of finding out what exactly was there with them. 
Squeak
Twilight came to an abrupt halt, his skin crawling and goosebumps scattering across his skin. 
The spirit of the wolf whined, curling up tightly. 
This was a sound Twilight was far too familiar with. A sound he could never forget no matter how hard he tried. Already, he experienced the phantom sensations of tiny little paws grappling onto his clothes and scrabbling upwards. Sharp, piercing teeth and hauntingly beady eyes that glowed in the dark filtered through his mind. 
He waited for a second, straining his ears to catch the sound again. 
Nothing but silence met them. 
Slowly, Twilight relaxed, the tension bleeding from his back and shoulders. Perhaps it was his paranoia acting up and his mind was making up the noises. This place was a great deal like Arbiter’s Grounds. It would make sense. 
He shook his head and hastened forward. Warrior was already a good distance ahead of him. 
The Ordonian swore he heard the scraping of claws against the disjointed and fractured tiles but he refused to believe it. Reliving Arbiter’s Grounds was not something Twilight was keen on doing. 
And that was when he felt it. 
Something latching onto his pants leg and racing upwards. 
Horror and dismay contorted Twilight’s features as he instinctively stiffened, all sense of mobility fleeing from him. 
“Warrior - Captain - Pretty Boy-” He sifted through Warrior’s names, body paralyzed and frozen stiff. The claws climbed precariously higher, but the Ordonian couldn’t bring himself to look and see what had latched onto him. If it was what he knew it was… Warrior whirled around, concern creasing his brow at the urgency in Twilight’s voice, “Twi, what-” 
Twilight flinched, eyes squeezed shut, limbs cold and hands raised, “Get it off, get it off, get. it. off,” He repeated the mantra two more times. 
Warrior rushed to his side, searching for whatever it was Twilight felt. He saw nothing. “What-” “My back!” Twilight grit his teeth together, catching a barely-audible squeak as razor-sharp claws made their way up his spine, “It’s on my back! Don’t just stand there, Warrior, if you don’t-” He was cut off when Warrior cast aside his confusion and swiped his hand down Twilight back. 
He was taken by surprise when he was met with some resistance. Both Heroes heard a startled squeak as an invisible force made contact with the ground, the impact ringing in their ears. 
Warrior blinked dumbly down at the ground, arm half-bent and hovering in the air. 
There was nothing there. He hadn’t seen anything on Twilight and yet...He’d clearly hit something. “What was that?!” Warrior shrilly demanded to know. “A rat.” “A rat?! I didn’t see a rat!” “Of course you didn’t,” Twilight said with a trace of sarcasm, his heart rate slowing now that he was in no imminent danger, “They’re ghoul rats.” “Ghoul rats?!” 
As if called upon, several other squeaks and the speedy clicking of claws came from somewhere around them. Warrior looked around incredulously. 
A slightly hysterical laugh rose in Twilight’s throat because of course this would happen, but he suppressed it when the Captain shoved him forward. 
“Out, out, out,” The Knight prompted urgently, racing for the door, “I don’t do invisible rats.” 
“You only deal with the visible ones then?” Twilight couldn’t help but quip. 
Warrior all but threw open the door in response, the two stumbling free of the room and slamming it shut behind them. Several thumps resounded against the door. 
Leaning against the cold metal, Warrior heaved a sigh and swore, “Never again. Never.”
Twilight collapsed beside him, more than happy to take a brief respite. 
“Gibdos, ghoul rats, and sinking sand,” He listed off unhappily, his head falling back, “I can only imagine what comes next.”
Warrior turned to him, chest heaving from having all but booked it out of there. 
“No more. I don’t think I can handle whatever horrors your world holds, Twi,” 
Twi snorted quietly. “I’m beginning to wonder how I did.” 
It was a good thing, Twilight figured to himself, that Warrior had never seen what the poes of his world looked like. 
~~~~~
“Should we even dare?” 
Twilight wanted to tear his hair out. 
Warrior shifted indecisively. 
This, Twilight grumbled, is pathetic. 
“There’s no telling what’s behind this door.”
“No, but if we’ve learned anything, it’s that nothing good is behind this door,” Twilight muttered and his wolf self yipped in agreement. 
Warrior gave a small chuckle, the sound lacking its typical warmth and genuinity. He rubbed at the back of his neck, staring at the door in consideration. 
“It could be the last one we have to go through.” 
The ‘or not,’ was left unsaid but not unheard. 
Both knew they were stalling. Neither one of them wanted to cross the threshold to discover what surprise this chamber might hold. Heaving a sigh, eyes closing in resignation, Twilight planted a hand against the cool metal, 
“We might as well get this over with. The sooner we get out of this place, the better.” 
Warrior huffed. Then, with a dramatic gesture of his hand, said, “After you.” 
Twilight was not amused. 
With both hands, he unstuck the door and shoved it upwards then quickly stepped to the side once it vanished. 
Cautiously, both Heroes peered inside to scope out the interior of this new room. 
Warrior blinked, a vague impression of unease and revulsion etched into his features. Twilight was too tired to care anymore. 
“You...Am I seeing correctly?” Warrior asked, his voice the ghost of a whisper. He turned to Twilight, pointing with his left. 
“Well you aren’t imagining it,” Twilight muttered in response. He took hold of the Ordon blade and unsheathed it, “Come along now, Captain, the sooner we finish this, the sooner we leave.” 
Warrior raised both eyebrows, commenting wryly, “Now where was this attitude when-” 
“Captain,” 
“Coming.” 
And with that, Warrior slipped into the room after Twilight. Both stilled when the door slid shut and locked behind them. They spared it a glance then returned their attention to the center of the musty chamber. It was, by far, the smallest room they had been in, meaning there was little space for them to move. 
“Ominous,” Warrior remarked idly, taking in the grotesque, rotting, bony arms sticking out of the ground. “Must be our boss battle.” 
“Disgusting,” Twilight tacked on. His nose crinkled at the foul and overwhelming stench of death and decay in the heavy air. Sometimes, it did not pay to have heightened senses. 
His wolf self grumbled in indignation. 
“Do we chop off the arms?” Warrior wondered aloud, studying the eerie skeletal limbs swaying in a nonexistent breeze. “Where is the main body?”  “If there is one,” Twilight scowled. He and Warrior slowly approached the center of the room, careful not to step within reach of the stiff arms. 
“Here goes nothing,” Warrior shrugged, taking a swing of his sword and chopping a couple of the limbs halfway. 
There was an ear-splitting shriek that made Twilight slap his hands over his ears and cringe.  “Din’s name! The arms grew back!” Warrior exclaimed, drawing Twilight’s attention back to...whatever they were facing. Revulsion contorted Warrior’s face, “Oh, that was sickening.” 
Twilight’s lip curled back in agreement. 
“Maybe all of the arms at once?” He suggested. Warrior gestured for him to give it a whirl. Twilight exhaled deeply and moved to the middle of the extended limbs. Without warning, one of the bony fingers of a nearby hand twitched, agitated after sensing his movement, and snatched. 
Twilight gave a muffled shout when the hand grasped tightly at his face, his vision going dark from his eyes being covered. Sharp nails cut into his skin, trickles of blood slipping free from the slivers.  The Rancher’s hands snatched at the offending limb, striving vainly to tug himself free. He felt Warrior trying to help him, the Knight muttering harshly under his breath. His sharp ears also detected something unburying itself from the ground and his heart plummeted. 
“Sweet Hylia!” Warrior cried from behind, “Din, Farore, and Nayru forbid, that thing is atrocious! Holy heavens,” 
Would you focus on setting me free?! Twilight inwardly shouted. His wolf spirit howled, barked, growled, and snapped his teeth.  
“Oh, gross, it’s coming closer-” Warrior iterated, “-Disgusting. Look at those teeth-” 
I can’t, Twilight deadpanned, not daring to speak. The slimy, rotting hand on his face prevented him from doing anything. He didn’t want to risk even breathing. 
“I have never seen anything so hideously hideous in my entire life-” 
Have you looked in a mirror? Twilight wanted to quip, his wolf self snickering. He growled, the sound muffled. 
“I am not going anywhere near that thing, so-” Strong arms wound around Twilight’s chest and Warrior yanked with all his might, tearing Twilight free of the hand just in time to see what exactly had taken him captive. 
Deep, abyss-filled eyes on a gaunt, white, sickly face inches away from Twilight’s own greeted the Ordonian. Wide, long, teeth stretched in a broad smile on that thin head at the end of an extended neck momentarily horrified Twilight.  Wolfie all but shrieked at the unexpected and ghastly sight, fur standing on end. 
He grunted when Warrior crashed back onto the ground, still holding onto the Rancher. Both stayed sprawled on the ground, staring in terrified wonder at this unfamiliar, wretched, and slouched creature. 
The monster, realizing they were now out of reach, disappeared back into the ground. 
Twilight and Warrior simultaneously released sighs of relief, jumping when the door behind them crashed open. 
“What in Hylia’s name is going on here?” A familiar voice demanded to know. Twilight and Warrior scrambled to their feet with an enthusiastic cry of,  “Time!” 
Time’s eye darted between the two as they bolted towards him, a brooding look of wearied exasperation etched into his features, “I could hear the two of you from down the corridor-” He was cut off when the teens found refuge behind him, huddling together in a vain attempt to disappear from view. His expression flat-lined. “What are you both doing?”  “Did you know Ghoul Rats exist?” Warrior asked, beyond disturbed and scarred.  “Not to mention that thing,” Twilight added with a shudder of his own,  “We don’t talk about that thing, Twi,” 
“’That thing’ came out of the ground-” Twilight pointed ahead of them. Time suppressed the urge to sigh and turned his head to pin whatever creature the two were so thoroughly shaken by with a glare. 
His gaze froze when he took in the rotting, white-limbed, arms sticking up from the ground, clawed fingers curled and ready to snatch at anyone who dared come near.  A strange expression crawled across the Old Man’s face. One neither Twilight nor Warrior had ever seen him wear. His eye had gone dead and cold, recognition flaring to life before the elder Hero spun on his heel, grabbed the teens by their shoulders, and ushered them out. 
“Um, Time, shouldn’t we-” Warrior began, gesturing vaguely back to the room they’d left. 
“We don’t have time to waste,” The Old Man smoothly interjected, patting Warrior’s shoulder. He slipped between the two and began striding down the corridor. “We still have six other Links to find.” 
Twilight and Warrior shared a bemused look but dutifully followed after the golden-clad Hylian. They spared one last glance at the metallic door hiding the monster from view and, recalling the horrors they’d experienced in the span of two minutes, and skittered away. 
“Never again,” Warrior swore, hastening his pace. 
Never, Twilight agreed. 
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ramblingguy54 · 4 years
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Escape From The Impossibin!: An Exercise Of Trust & Hope.
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So, I was predicting for this episode to have Della & Louie bonding time together, which there were cool moments with them to be sure. However, what I really liked about today’s story was how it focused on the aftermath of FOWL’s reveal to still be very much alive to Scrooge’s horror and Beakly’s greatly underlying concern. A couple of days ago before Impossibin premiered today, I chatted with some others on Discord about what this episode’s story would explore for its overall message, which the more I thought about, the more I leaned on the idea it would be centered around the notion of trust. Let’s Get Dangerous had a consistent theme of deceitful liars being revealed who weren’t whom they appeared to be, as seen with Taurus Bulba vs Drake Mallard & Bradford’s true nature being known to Scrooge at that hour special’s ending. 
Escape From The Impossibin is all about confronting the growing tension that’s become a threat to a content family lineage of adventurers, who now have to defend everything they stand for in their legacy, once again. That’s something I’ve always appreciated about DuckTales is even when it doesn’t entirely match my predictions, it finds other new ways to surprise me for what it can do. Della & Louie didn’t necessarily get the bonding time I had hoped for, which did admittedly disappoint me, but they did a serve a purpose in their own right that I’ll get to later. Anyways, the spotlight is on the older mentor figures, Scrooge McDuck and Bentina Beakly, who are all too familiar in dealing with FOWL’s antagonism before in Season 1′s episode, The Confidential Case Files Of Agent 22, that especially applies to Beakly’s past in fighting them as an agent of SHUSH for very much longer compared to Scrooge. With how much is at stake you’d very much expect there to be old feelings being drudged up, regarding Scrooge’s trust and respect for Bradford, as well as Beakly’s strict over protective nature with Webby to keep her safe from losing that optimism that makes her stand out as a beacon of hope to inspire others, which they do. FOWL isn’t like Magica or Lunaris who want to make themselves known flat out to the world with their egos. They’re very cunning and cold blooded with going about executing their plans for control of the Earth. Particularly, Bradford is the serious threat most of all because he’s the brains of this outfit giving precision in each order to those under his command. Combine Bradford’s knowledge with the muscle of Steelbeak, Rockerduck’s underhanded scheming, Gandra Dee’s scientific intellect, Black Heron’s lust for more power, and Phantom Blot’s ability to absorb all kinds of magic that gives the McDucks’ a severe scenario they’ve never faced. FOWL is the right combination to put an end to Scrooge’s adventuring because Bradford has kept a close eye on him for so many years. Bradford has seen plenty of Scrooge at his total best and worst most of all. He’s studied upon every detail of Scrooge’s life, for who knows how many years, and is finally putting all of it to use against him, where we get to see the extent of just how well Bradford can read every one of his moves. Lunaris’ intellect was simply a figurative puddle compared to what Bradford managed to accomplish with his high IQ.
The scary thing is Scrooge knows this reality himself, too. 
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That’s one of my favorite elements of Impossibin’s purpose. We get to see Scrooge seriously doubt his abilities. In episodes, like The Most Dangerous Game Night and The 87 Cents Solution, Scrooge has always prided himself in being a very sharp individual who could see every angle and any detail that others couldn’t. Bradford, on the other hand, rivals Scrooge’s thinking that puts an eerie perspective on things for the old man. Scrooge always thought to be one step ahead of the game, but then realizes that someone who’s been by his side for so very long played him like a fiddle all those years. Who’s to say Scrooge isn’t probably thinking back on stuff such as Bradford shutting down his rescue operation for Della, controlling his money usage, letting Louie hang around Bradford in The Richest Duck In The World, finalizing Gyro’s inventions, etc? Scrooge realizes he’s had a dangerous character around the family manor all those years, which makes him doubt his ability to trust himself in protecting everything that he holds importantly in life. Scrooge isn’t just thinking he’s been fooled, he’s doubting every aspect of what made him competent to begin with. Doesn’t help among this moment of self reflection Bradford is there to further rub in that harsh reality of how much he knows about Scrooge.
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This moment gave me chills because it completely put a spin upon the story’s concept. I figured that FOWL would hack Scrooge’s security system, with help from Gandra Dee’s abilities, and I’m glad it went this route, since it shows how dangerous things are this time. They’re not even safe within the confines of their own manor anymore, considering Bradford knows every nook and cranny of it. Scrooge thought only he knew the security system’s password, given its based on the amount of all money in his money bin, but Bradford covered that crucial detail, too. Bradford isn’t leaving any loose ends toward Scrooge in how he’ll go about using any little thing against him for future reference. That’s what makes the stakes higher here than compared to Lunaris’ invasion. This is a much more personal story between a clash of ideals with Adventuring vs Control. Lunaris lacked that emotional connection here Bradford is making Scrooge have to face that adds another layer of tension to this situation. Bradford wants Scrooge to know, “I have control over you. There is nothing you know that I’ve already figured out about yourself.”, and going about hacking the robotic version of himself is the best way to send home that message to him. It can also be interpreted as symbolism for Scrooge fighting his own insecurities when Bradford takes control of the robot to start attacking.
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I need you, the two most cunning individuals I know, to spot any weaknesses.
Now, Della & Louie did serve a big purpose, despite the Plot A point focusing greatly on Scrooge’s existential dilemma, for they were there to remind Scrooge of just how much of an impact his life style has had on them. Della & Louie’s teamwork together throughout the episode is a perfect way to give Scrooge a reality check reminder for how skilled they are as adventurous fighters against unknown dangers. After all, Scrooge passed on his skills to Della, who’d later pass down her intellectual skills to him, too. Again, tying into the whole theme of legacy and what not about how much family can bring out the best in each other. If it wasn’t for what Scrooge had taught them, then he wouldn’t have been saved by Louie’s defining act of being a badass, by willingly diving into the pile of money, which got hit by a gravity changing rosa rune from the robot and ended up crushing it. I wanted to see more mature Louie, so him lifting Scrooge up about how much pride he has in the family lineage was a great nod to it. That in turn, allowed Scrooge to remember why he and their family are strong together. You know, after recent events that have happened in my life, seeing legacy be explored in DuckTales Season 3 means a lot to me now more than ever.
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As for Beakly’s B Plot, in terms of how it ties into a neat bow with Scrooge’s story, shows how intense she’s getting at the notion of eventually facing FOWL again. Honestly, I’m not surprised if she’s getting flashbacks of whatever painful or traumatic events happened to her in those Agent 22 days. I mean, for God’s sake, she tells Webby to straight up incapacitate Huey, who was already so scared. Something Webby refuses to agree with as the best course of training methods to better prepare against the greater threat. Beakly’s characterization has always fascinated me with how well she guards her vulnerability, kind of like Goldie in a way, but the difference here is outta great concern for others rather than herself. My mind can’t stop thinking about this scene, as there could most likely be underlying context for why Beakly is getting so worked up over this training. It seems Beakly is carrying a tremendous weight on her shoulders, probably some heavy angst, that it looks like she wants to say, but can’t because of bigger story reasons we’ll find out later in Season 3′s final batch of episodes. Special mention to Donald Duck putting his foot down on Beakly’s very intense training session. Donald knows the trials and errors of what it means to be a parent. He was once very overly protective of Huey, Dewey, and Louie, but learned to let them experience the world for what it is and not hold them back, so I liked how it ties into Beakly’s dilemma of trying to protect Webby from FOWL’s heartless nature.
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Beakly’s plot may have not gotten much focus, but it did a very good job setting up more angst to come between her and Webby’s relationship. Things are gonna get very complicated between them when more things come to light. I’m keeping an eye on Huey’s line specifically. When he said, “The one thing we know for sure is that we trust each other, right?”, Beakly did want to bring herself to apologize of course, but I also think she was close to wanting to confess something else to Webby, too. I’m expecting this moment to be called back to when stuff hits the fan with Beakly’s past and whatever Webby’s origins are.
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Escape From the Impossibin may have unsettling stuff lurking around the corner with how FOWL managed to distract them with the security system, so they could steal away every missing mystery the family has found so far, but there’s a glimmer of light in all of that darkness. A light that is a reminder of what makes the McDuck family an unstoppable force of trust, hope, and most importantly love. Frank said that things were gonna start going into overdrive with FOWL’s battle against McDuck and he wasn’t kidding around. I’m so overjoyed were getting more episodes in November after this episode finished because that would’ve been a painful wait. Season 3 is gonna start giving things it built up a big pay off and I’m totally here for that!
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rachelbethhines · 4 years
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Tangled Salt Marathon - Painter’s Block
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Once again, we have a decent episode that winds up falling apart in context of the wider story arc. 
Summary:  Traumatized after the previous events, Rapunzel is feeling out of sorts, even having trouble painting again, and starts taking a class with a mysterious new art instructor. The other members of the class disappear one by one to a mysterious location by the sea, apparently painting an old, withered tree. The instructor is revealed to actually be an old witch serving Zhan Tiri (the monster who released the blizzard), released after the use of the weather machine and wishing to release her master as well. It’s up to Eugene and Cassandra to rescue Rapunzel. 
Tonal Dissonance Is a Problem
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We start this episode with a recap of Queen for a Day and then we jump straight into yet another festival. 
Ok, ignoring that clearly a lot of time has past and no one hasn’t done anything to help Varian nor even mentions helping him; it’s just aggravating to switch from a serious storyline back to a supposedly low stakes situation without resolving the first arc properly. Yes, levity is needed to break up tension, but not in a way that distracts entirely from the narrative. 
Rapunzel Doesn’t Even Bother To Think About Varian When She’s Having Her PTSD Flashback  
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Its a minor thing, but throughout the episode Rapunzel keeps having dissociative moments as she constantly hears voices in her head as she remembers the storm. Now I actually do appreciate what the writers are trying to do here. As some who also struggles with Complex-PTSD and dissociation, it's nice to see it represented here in some way. However, the fact that they leave out the key part of her trauma, letting down Varian, undermines these moments. Especially when they had no problem using Varian’s voice clip of “You promised!” earlier in the recap. It’s one of those things you may not notice it at first, but once you do it winds up distracting from the scene. 
What an Odd Place to Make This Reference 
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Sugarby is quoting Ursula here, but I honestly don't know why. Ursula’s actual VA, Pat Carroll, does appear in this episode but she plays Old Lady Crowley instead. Sugarby’s VA is Ellen Greene, of Little Shop of Horrors fame. (and Rock-A-Doodle) You’d think a quote from that movie would be more apt. Also Rapunzel was admiring everyone elses work right before this, not talking about tough choices. 
Yet Again Cassandra Gains What She Wants, But the Narrative Refuses To Remember It
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Cassandra’s beef in seasons two and three is apparently no one notices her or gives her credit for what she does, yet in season one she gets tons of recognition. Like here for instance, when her dad gives her a detective assignment on a missing persons case. To her specifically. He doesn’t ask anybody else first and isn’t running low on troops. 
You can’t have one of the main characters achieve their goal on screen several times and then act like they had never achieved it in later seasons. The audience isn’t dumb. We’re going to remember what happened and it’s insulting to the viewers for the narrative to pretend like what we’ve seen just didn’t happen. 
Friedborg is Wasted Here
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I’ve talked about it before, but Friedborg is an unnecessary addition to the cast. However I bring it up again because this episode could have been the perfect set up for making her plot relevant. There’s tons of unintentional moments within the episode that could have easily served as foreshadowing that could have connected her to Zan Tiri, more so than any of the other characters. 
Trauma is an Explanation, Not an Excuse
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This episode presents the idea that Rapunzel is procrastinating helping Varian because she’s reluctant to face her trauma. Which isn’t excusable. It gives reasons for her actions but those reasons are still ultimately selfish. 
Now, had the show owned up to this mistake, I would have no problem with using it as a point of conflict, yet the show constantly excuses Rapunzel’s behavior here. In fact the show excuses the behavior of several characters with the idea that so long that they had a traumatic backstory, they’re justified in their horrible actions. All but Varian, which a big double standard. 
However, and I can’t stress this enough, trauma is never an excuse for harming others. Especially people who've never done you wrong. 
Rapunzel spends several episodes ignoring Varian’s problem, long past the point of acceptability. And if viewed in the intended production order, the amount of episodes doubles. Varian is left alone for months, given the timeline of the show, and yet Rapunzel, the supposed adult in this situation, is never held accountable for neglecting a child.  
Xavier isn’t Tied Into the Plot Properly 
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Xavier just so happens to have a convenient spell book that also just so happens to have all the exposition on the big bad that’s needed. It’s never explained how he got this book, why he has it, nor is it ever used outside of the first season. 
Xavier is plot important as the exposition fairy but the show never explorers him further than that and doesn’t tie him into the narrative properly, even though there’s plenty of reasons to do so. In fact Xavier will become just as useless as Monty by the time season three rolls around, even though he previously had the most connection to the ultimate villain. 
The Disciples Plot Goes Nowhere 
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Ok, first off we get no real explanation as who these guys are, nor why they follow Zan Tiri to begin with. Why do they want Zan Tiri freed? What’s in it for them precisely? 
Second, what meminal backstory we get on these guys, contradicts what we’re told about them here. Xavier calls them evil spirits, but later we find out that they were actual real people who onced lived. You could call them ghosts if you want to, but that begs the original question of why they followed Zhan Tiri in the first place and why they continue to do so even in the afterlife. Simply being ‘evil’ no longer cuts it because real people aren’t just purely ‘evil’. They have goals and motivations. 
Finally, they accomplish nothing. They never wind up freeing their master. That happens through other means. They never connect back to Zhan Tiri’s own goals and motivations. They don’t add backstory to any of the other characters nor expand the mythos of the series. They’re just there to be a baddie of the week, and it’s is such a let down given what other hints we got for them. 
Sugarby Misgenders Her Master
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So it’s clear that the writers did not fully figure out Zhan Tiri’s plot before they started making episodes. Given how animation works and how much pre-production time you’re given before you ever even start animating (which is several years btw), that’s a sign of mismanagement right there. 
Zhan Tiri is revealed to be a girl, but is referred to using male pronouns until that reveal, even by people who very well should know better, like her disciples. 
Also all these tree metaphors and hints come to nothing either, as Zhan Tiri is ultimately both freed and imprisoned without them. So what was the point here? 
Rapunzel Doesn’t Learn Her Lesson
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This episode is suppose to be about Rapunzel learning to accept responsibility and owning up to her decisions even if it's hard. This should, sensibly, end with her taking upon her responsibility for Varian and following up with him. But no, we get a painting party instead. 
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This isn’t Proper Foreshadowing 
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So everyone acts like this painting of Cassandra in front of the moon is foreshadowing for her taking the moonstone, but it’s not. Not good foreshadowing, anyways. 
For starters, it’s not focused upon. Everyone is also painting stuff and crowding out what she’s doing so your eye isn’t lead to her
Nothing anybody else paints is a hint to anything later on, so why should the viewer pick up on this? It’s just a thing anybody could paint. If anything, Freidborg painting the void over there could have been some real foreshadowing cause that’s different and stands out, but it isn’t. 
It’s not on screen long enough to register for the audience. If you’re only going to notice something after the fact then it’s not a meaningful clue. Real foreshadowing has to be detectable and the audience needs to be able to plausibly figure out a twist before it happens or you’ve got a bad twist that’s not integrated into the story.   
There’s no other evidence to backup the twist. All we get is one framing shot of a mirror and that brief talk with Eugene in in the cell in Cassandra vs. Eugene. That’s not enough. And no, Chris claiming her ‘dress is blue’ as a hint is utter bullshit, cause there’s Freidborg right there wearing the exact same dress. 
If MoonCass was always a thing that the writers intended to happen, which we do have evidence for given released production artwork and Chris’s own discussions about the show’s development, then they needed to put more effort into establishing the character and setting up her arc. 
The very fact that viewers can easily pick out supposedly non-existent ‘hints’ with other characters like Freidborg and Varian, but not pick up on the actual twist, means that the writers failed to communicate clearly with their audience. That is on them and not the viewers, no matter what Chris says. 
Conclusion
This episode is frustrating. Much like the pilot, it offers up good ideas but then never properly follows up on them. To make matters worse, it winds up distracting from the plot that viewers actually care about rather than furthering. 
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jasontoddiefor · 4 years
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Tiny Emperor Luke AU back at it again with Vader and Luke getting away from Tatooine or as I call it “Vader discovered possessive determiners and angsts a lot about stolen opportunities”
The child slept for hours, unmoving and if not for the steady hum of the Force and the movement of his chest, Vader would have thought the boy dead. The fear clawed at his insides badly enough that he abandoned the ship entirely to the autopilot so he could sit at the child’s side.
His child, his son.
He was named Luke. Vader had seen Padmé’s funeral, had watched its recordings countless times and visited her grave more often than he ought to. The memory of crushing her throat beneath his fingers made him want to choke. It hadn’t been supposed to be this way. It should be her orders he was following, her will he should be executing, their child they should be raising. Had she even had the chance to name him or had that right be stolen from them as well?
Someone must have brought Luke to Tatooine, told him of his heritage, but who would? Certainly not Kenobi, no. He had buried Anakin Skywalker, betrayed him and left him for dead like every Jedi. Obi-Wan hadn’t known love, wouldn’t know its shape if he were forced to describe it.
His son stirred.
Vader had wanted to take him out of the dirty clothes, but he had nothing else on board but one change of Trooper armor. He supposed the undersuit could be adjusted. His child shouldn’t be dressed in filth. Had Vader raised him, Luke wouldn’t know the feeling of rough garbs on his skin, the durable, harsh clothes Anakin had loathed so much on Tatooine and had been more than happy to burn when he’d gotten to the Jedi Temple.
“Sleep,” Vader ordered and then, hesitantly, reached out to the boy in body and spirit.
He carefully put his hand on Luke’s chest, felt it rise and fall beneath his palm. His son was still breathing, he was well. OF course, the med droid on board and its readings had confirmed as much as well, but machines, no matter how well crafted, could never make up for flesh or the precision of the Force.
Luke was injured, but not so much that bacta wouldn’t be able to heal him. He had plenty of that on Mustafar, as well as discretion. Nobody could know of Luke, the Emperor would ruin his son with his lies as he had brought Vader’s ruin.  Sidious would never even step into the same room as his son, Vader would ensure it by all means possible.
Reaching out to Luke with his mind was easier and more difficult at the same time. He was not lacking a limb now, but at the same time it felt like it. Vader’s presence had always burned others. It was the reason brute mindtricks had never worked well on him, he usually felt it when others cut themselves on the harsh fragments of glass Vader surrounded his mind with. When he attempted the same nowadays, it was usually to tear through memories and cause as much damage and pain as he could.
Vader couldn’t recall the last time he had been gentle to anyone.
But Luke’s mind was already in tatters. Wide-open like a traumatized youngling whose defenses had been torn to shreds. Should Vader delve in like this, he would only hurt his child more. He needed true peace and calm, but he hadn’t sought either in almost a decade. It simply hadn’t been possible with the way his body and mind ached, the rage and anger he contained and couldn’t and didn’t want to let go of. It made him stronger, he needed it if he were to destroy Sidious for his lies and yes, now, watching his child struggle to breathe, they could not aid him.
He needed to know how well his son was fairing though. The droids and scans couldn’t tell him what damage those worthless bastards had done to Luke’s mind. His cry in the Force had been so terrible Vader had mistaken it for his own. The last time he’d witnessed such horror-
It was better not to dwell.
Vader opened his mind to the Force and its many perceptions. The Jedi had never truly understood how it worked. They’d always spoken about listening for its whispers and signs, never what to do when an entire orchestra was playing in your mind, each strand of fate occupied with another destiny, another tone, and all of them were determined to make him listen.
Luke’s melody was a silent one, stuttering and not yet settled, but already with so much promise. His son was powerful, as Vader had known he would be. There was no thinking what would have happened had Vader not found him. It was unacceptable to consider that Jabba would have diminished this light.
Carefully, so much more gently than Vader ever had, he attempted to follow Luke’s song. And then, like he had walked miles in the desert and was starved for water, Luke pulled back. His grip was clumsy, unpracticed, untrained. He likely never had felt another Force-sensitive reach out and now latched onto the contact. Vader let himself be pulled along, dragged deep down into a memory, until he crashed onto an imaginary ground.
Dust settled in his lungs and he was forced to cough. Sand stuck to his hands and scalp unpleasantly and even though it was imaginary, instinctively Vader reached out to brush it out of his hair.
He disliked the sensation. Even in his own meditations, he hardly could banish Skywalker’s image. It seemed to taunt him whenever he relived his own memories. Brushing sand off his dark robes, Vader stood up. They didn’t look like Jedi robes, nor anything he was used to wearing, but this wasn’t his mind. His image merely shaped by how Luke perceived him.
Looking around, Vader found that he was standing in a room that was tainted by bitter memories for him. This was the farm his mother had lived at, where she had been buried. It would be so easy to fall into that anger again, but instead his attention was caught by the machinery scattered around the floor. Droid parts, clumsily attached like whoever had worked on them hadn’t been too skilled at it, yet. A mere beginner slowly learning how to work. Amongst the metal also laid ship models, carved out of japor wood and painted colorfully. These were children’s toys, Vader realized.
It made sense that they would be here, in Luke’s mind. His son must have grown up with his grandmother’s chosen family, and yet, looking at them, Vader was amazed. He picked one of the ship models up and was astonished by how infused it was with joy, happiness, light and home. The emotions were so vibrant, they felt like old wounds tearing open again. He quickly dropped the ship again and it clattered to the ground.
“That’s mine.”
Vader turned around to the other end of the room. The boy standing there was tanned, from Tatooine’s suns no questions about that, and his hair was as light as spun gold. His eyes, big and weary, were as blue as Naboo’s lakes, the same color Vader’s eyes used to be. Through Vader’s red-tinted lenses, he hadn’t been able to perceive his son in such a way, but now he never wanted to look away from him.
His son was all his and Padmé’s endless hours of dreaming of their child given from. So many precious late nights and early mornings, before and after the nightmares, they’d laughed and whispered about it. They’d dared to imagine how their precious child would look and he was perfect, more than Vader had ever imagined, perhaps already just because he was alive.
Living, as reality had taught him, was the hardest trial to endure.
“Did you make it?” Vader heard himself ask as the toy ship floated into Luke’s arms.
It was strange to notice that his voice sounded as it used to, that speaking didn’t cause him pain.
“No.” Luke shook his head. “It was a gift.”
“From whom?”
“I don’t know.”
Vader imagined catching a flicker of regret, love and melancholy, but it wasn’t enough to get a clear image. Their surroundings began to flicker as Luke grew unsure. The feeling of darkness and fear slowly trickled into the room.
“Are you staying?” Luke asked, clutching the toy as if it were made from soft fabric instead of hard wood. Then, more desperate, he added, “I don’t want to be alone again.”
“I’m never leaving you again,” Vader vowed.
He’d burn down the galaxy before he let anything or anyone separate him from his son again.
Vader slowly sunk to his knees, bowed not in front of his despised Master, but his dear beloved child. Luke apparently understood the gesture for what it was and promptly flung himself into Vader’s arms. He buried his head in the crook of Vader’s neck, hiding away his face.
“I knew you’d come,” Luke stuttered out in-between sobs. “I always knew you’d come back for me.”
“Of course,” Vader agreed. “It was the will of the Force.”
The Force had reunited them and it would lead them from now onwards. Vader could feel his son’s natural shields slowly repairing and yet they weren’t throwing him out. His son was well, the slavers’ torment hadn’t fractured his mind as he had assumed. Reassured of Luke’s health, Vader decided he must turn to consciousness.
“Come on now, young one. It is time to wake up.”
It was time they met face-to-face outside of dreams.
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icharchivist · 5 years
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Lavi learning about the abuses Allen went through would be interesting in adding another layer to his insight into humanity. A part of Lavi's bookman hard cold logic mentality could rationalize the extremes rhe Order committed for survival (not that he'd like it). But the people who hurt Allen, at and before the circus, don't have that excuse. They really would fit Lavi's stupid and violent view of humanity he had pre Order/Allen. But unlike Lavi, Allen still choose to see love and goodness-
2 in the end. He saw the loving bond between Mana and his dog. He recieved the warmth Allen the dog gave him and mourned his death openly. He felt guilty for hurting Mana and wanted to make up for it. He also still wanted to get and give love despite not having any memory of experiencing it pre Mana. I think that's what confounds Lavi the most. Lavi's seen evil and just made himself cold/indifferent to everyone non bookman. In Lavi's eyes, Allen can see past the ugliness and love what needs to-
3 be loved. No matter how much it hurts, Allen still walks forward. I think Lavi does wish he could have done that too. It's just interesting because Lavi could have been the type to resent Allen for his kindness and outlook. Instead the first sign of Allen being different made him change his whole outlook. Like he had become that little 6 yr old again venturing into new territory. He'd probably feel that way again if he knew just how horrible Allen's past was and how much that drove Allen.
YES exactly! 
This was exactly what I meant in a previous ask about “cruelty hiding behind a purpose” bc in war this is what you see.Of course there are sadistic scary people who are only there to hurt people, but they will all hide behind whatever purpose the war has to offer. Even Lavi being tortured atm by a brunch of sadistic genocidal guys is litterally for the purpose to get information. 
But hwat happened to Allen had no rhyme nor reason and it is not exactly the kind of suffering Lavi would be used by. Humanity sucks, yeah, he’s seen it in wars, but battlefields is not always the best way to get to know humanity per se. Sure, humans who keep themselves into those wars - those politics who send people to die for their battles, the hopeful who die young, the horrors, the people who take advantage of it, the people who do horrors trying to stop the war “end justifying the means” type, the collateral damages and how civilians can respond with fear, while others may show out their selfishness - all of this is a specific set of humanity that is nothing alike Anything Allen even went through. 
And it’s ofc not saying that those wars weren’t traumatic to start with don’t get me wrong, I think that for Lavi to cope with such emotional distachement those wars had been plenty traumatic in their own way. what i mean is that, Lavi is prepared for the cruelty that comes with war. Not those that comes with the regular world.
The thing is that Lavi had to learn to cope very early and his exemple was Bookman who told him to shut off his emotions. I mean, Lavi got wounded by a straybullet on a battlefield when he was 7, one year after he started his recording duty. Even if Bookman is a loving father figure as much as possible, the uprising of the Bookmen is Not Healthy. Especially not for a child who has to process countless of horrors. 
So to shut down his emotions seemed the normal course of action to take. And from tunning down your emotions you lack your ability to care, by keeping your heart under locks you don’t let anything touches you. 
And... it’s interesting because without Mana we can’t know how Allen would have been. He would have been bitter perhaps. When you look at last chapter, it seems like fighting with Cosimo wasn’t a first time thing considering how quick Allen was to react - yet you can see that Allen still had a confrontational behavior, he didn’t let things happen to him. He had to be beaten into submission and apologizing and then emotionally abused in order to keep him back in track. Yet we still see him refusing his situation, rejecting it. Even as a kid. He was full of anger but he didn’t accept it. Even when he was forced to.
Having Mana and the dog had been salvator for Allen. Some people he could pour his hearts onto, people who would give him warmth, people who would make sure his feelings were valid. After all even we do have a scene of Mana helping Allen process his grief toward the dog.  And Allen was young enough to still form himself around that.
There’s something i’ve been told in therapy that the environment you were at at 7yo  can change your entiere development as of then, since it’s when your brain really is starting to try to make sense of the world around you in more personal details. 
Lavi was on battlefield at that point, seeing people dying and dying and dying. Allen was at that damn circus, with cruel people, but he met Mana and started to travel with him right at that time.  And they had to give logic to their life experience so far, both of them. 
tbh I wonder if Bookman slightly dotting Lavi when he was in convalescence might not have made it impossible for Lavi to be completely emotionless because of that one spurr of love Bookman let in (even if then Bookman had always reproached him the thing in question for emotional distance as well). But as it was, Lavi had to make sense of the war around him. That was his primary focus. Hell if he had been in nothing but wars, how much does he even know about common life and suffering not war related?
And Allen saw all the cruelty of humanity, but he found something that genuinely made him happy, a warmth and optimism he wasn’t quite receptive to at first until he found himself at peace in it. He rationalized his life thus far and realized this, this is the kind of behavior that makes me happy. And he clang to that, and with Mana’s tehn sudden death and the akumatization Allen felt guilty about, it was important for Allen to carry that happiness on, knowing how much this had changed his life for the better. 
And like you say, that’s exactly things that could surprise Lavi because Lavi never had any opportunity to see that sort of love. I mean... Bookman is one thing, but it doesn’t change too that Mana was just as much a stranger to Allen than anyone in that Circus. If anything it proved Allen that humanity might not be that bad, actually, since that random human could take care of him. On the other hand we have Lavi who only ever could count on Bookman - and we know that he considered Bookmen above humanity. Bookman was still someone who had a duty to protect Lavi. Mana, as far as Allen knew, didn’t. 
And this adds too to the shock of thinking Mana only cared for Allen because of Nea, because the whole reason that it could have given Allen’s faith toward strangers, toward humanity, was that Mana was a stranger who still treated him kindly. The moment Mana had ulterior motives, this unconditional kindness Allen built himself upon wavers. Because for Allen it’s essential that a person who had no reason to care about him ended up extending him this kindness, and that’s how he ended up living his life.
I don’t specifically think Lavi would ever really think that he should have approched the situation like Allen did because there’s a lot of specifics entering in count in their specific trauma and how they coped with it.
But it is still telling, that for Lavi the horrors of wars became so nomrla, so usual, so easy to cope with, that the horrors Allen had been through are... a complete different affair. And to see that above all of that Allen took the approach of being kind, no matter what, to always be extending a hand for those in needs... It would be puzzling. How does on react to suffering this way? 
At war Lavi might have ended up believing there’s no point trying to save people, it’s a lost cause, if they don’t die now they will die later on the battlefield. And if they survive they will have the weigh of this pointless war on their shoulders.But Allen’s salvation came from a person caring. It wasn’t life or death. Saving someone there would help create a better future.
And honestly, Lavi did resent Allen when he first meet him, albeit it was because of the whole “that idiot called an akuma and is so lucky with his stupid eye and he doesn’t realize none of us can actually trust each other because the enemy is everywhere”. Lavi was extremely patronizing in his first appearance. He thought Allen was lucky. Until Krory’s castle. 
The more Lavi manages to unveil about what kind of person Allen is the more he realizes how wrong he had been the first time around. That his desire to save others at all cost wasn’t naivety but hyperawareness of what suffering was like. 
Allen did show his kindness the first thing around Lavi. he was soft. He actually showed pain at the idea of killing others humans, to whcih Lavi just said “what a baby.” Allen had shown his desire to help too all step into the Krory’s arc when they had to approach Krory. It’s just that Lavi brushed it off as naivety. Until he realized how wrong he was.
And especially, Lavi had seen that Allen was right in his love. I mean in the following arcs Lavi and Krory are super close and it shows they’ve become friends. Had Allen not taken the time to help Krory this friendship wouldn’t have existed. Lavi can witness everyday how Allen’s words improved Krory’s life for the better. When Allen was dead, Lavi could still see the direct impact of Allen’s kindness by his side. Hell, Krory saved Lavi’s life on that damn boat too. Had Allen not talked Krory out of suicide none of this would have happened.
I think comparing him to a child again is a good move bc it showcase a lot his internal fight with his younger self crying at him for taking different steps, for caring so much about others. In order to move on Lavi should put back in perspective how he had dealt with life so far, and Allen had always been a guiding light in that purpose.
To know the horrors Allen had gone through would already be a complete different spin on suffering than anything Lavi have ever experienced. 
And the kindness Allen showed, that is already so strange to Lavi, yet so encouraging, is just all the more powerful.
I think Lavi would realize that. Especially with how much Allen’s kindness as its own power was the very thing he sneered upon until he realized it was the most important thing Allen ever gave out.
So his reactions to the horrors... I don’t see him handling it well. But i do think it would be important.
.... and I rambled a lot again i’m sorry but this is a topic that really fascinates me ahdjkf
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Legacies 1x06, Mombie Dearest Review
I guess it's time. It's time for my weekly torture session. Screw the fiery pits of hell. If I'm really bound for hell -- as my Sunday school teacher once told me I was since I was a child born and conceived out of wedlock -- all Satan really needs to do to make me suffer is make me watch this dumb show for all eternity. Maybe that's what this show is, maybe that's why it exists. Perhaps JP is a denizen of hell come to Earth to create more torture fodder to be used in hell.
This is going to be an honest review of my thoughts and feelings regarding Legacies, the spin-off of a spin-off that should never have come to pass. But here we are. I'm not a fan of the show, have never pretended to be one so if you're looking for Legacies positivity, this is not the place for you. Keep in mind these are my thoughts and feelings about this mess of a show. Opinions are never right or wrong. I'm not telling you how to think and feel. You don't have to agree with my opinions but I would ask that you respect them, please. Also, spoilers for the episode so if you haven't seen the episode yet, watch the episode and then come back...otherwise read at your own risk. But let's be real here. I'm sure my followers who end up reading this have no desire to watch this show and use my ramblings as a substitute for actually watching the show...those selfish jerks...just kidding I love all my followers and please only watch the show if you really want to. I'm making a sacrifice watching the show so you don't have to.
Alright, let's get into this. 1x06, Mombie Dearest, what happened? Well, a necromancer brings back the twins' bio mother, Jo. But everyone realizes by the end of the episode that mombie dearest being back is not a good thing -- real shock, I know. I have no idea what could possibly have given it away. Maybe it was the dead rising from the Salvatore cemetery or maybe it was Jo, under the control of a necromancer, burying Josie alive. Who can say what really gave it away? The twins say good-bye to Jo and siphon all the magic out of Jo's body, thus killing her a second time. We meet the necromancer who brought Jo back and Alaric vows revenge. The necromancer better watch out. Truly, human 50--year-old pedophile Alaric is a force to be reckoned with.
It's also the twins' sweet sixteen. So in typical JP TVD fashion, of course there's a party. And this party was pretty boring. Myself, a bookish nerd who never goes out, has been to parties more lively than this one.
And right off the bat, the show immediately showcases why MG is absolutely THE WORST! Immediately, he comes up to Penelope and says he respects women and hates all forms of toxic masculinity. Really, MG? Do you really? Because there's plenty of evidence in episodes prior that would suggest otherwise. In this episode, MG is really creepy about his whole Lizzie fetish. And that's what I'm calling it. I'm calling it a fetish, not a crush. Because I don't believe for a second MG actually likes Lizzie as a person. He knows her favorite color, talks about how pretty she is but he never once talks about what about her, personality-wise, he likes about her. And I'm not saying Lizzie isn't likable, she definitely is, I adore Lizzie in all of her flawed glory, but I don't think MG actually does. He fetishizes her and that's it. He's so certain that if he gets one chance with her, he'll have her. Let's not disregard the fact that MG, despite saying he respects women, clearly sees Lizzie as something he has the right to own. Lizzie has given no inclination that she harbors any sort of romantic interest in MG but yet he's so convinced that if Penelope keeps Rafael away from Lizzie long enough for MG to make his move, Lizzie will fall for him instantly and realize the nice guy trope is the only trope for her. But the second Rafael shows up again and Lizzie chooses Rafael over MG, MG gets all angry about it. Like, "how dare Lizzie choose another guy when she could've had me?" Well, my friend, if it was like you said and all Lizzie needed was a few moments with you and she would've seen the light, then she would've chosen you, wouldn't she? It's not her fault, it's not Penelope's fault, it's not Rafael's fault, you've been friend-zoned, get over it. I thought you respected women? Or are their choices also not worthy of respect? In actuality, you don't respect women. You respect women when they give you what you want, as soon as they don't, as soon as they don't validate you, it must be their fault. MG, much like JP, has a very surface level of what respecting women actually entails. And really, if it came to a choice between Rafael and MG, I'd probably pick Rafael too. He may be boring but at least he probably doesn't have a creepy fetish towards me.
Caroline's absence is also explained, finally. Even though I already knew because of additional material I read about the show. Caroline isn't around because she's off trying to find a way to save the twins from that unfortunate Gemini coven mandate that one twin has to absorb the other on their 22nd birthday. Caroline's apparently embroiled in something that's going to help with that and thus can't be there for the twins' sweet sixteen. But this is really code for that Candace most likely just wants to put this trashy franchise behind her. But not to worry, why have the amazing Caroline around when you can have dull Jo back from the dead?
So Josie starts hanging around with Jo and this eventually leads her to being kidnapped and buried alive by Jo under the control of the necromancer. The necromancer wants...you guessed it, the knife in exchange for Josie. Penelope, MG, and Hope end up looking for Josie in the cemetery and end up in a third-rate zombie horror flick. I can't help but feel it's really strange that a vampire and two witches were struggling so much with these zombies. MG is blessed with super strength. Penelope and Hope are witches who have the power to give brain aneurysms. Not to mention, as the show loves to point out, Hope is perfect. She has the power to fight a dragon, a huge spider, but not zombies. The undead...her true nemesis, I guess...which is ironic considering she's part undead both biologically and mentally. They eventually find Josie through a necklace Hope had conveniently given Josie earlier in the episode as a birthday gift. If I didn't know this show thrived on plot convenience, I'd almost think Hope knew what was going to happen to Josie. I mean, out of all the birthday gifts to give Josie, she gives her a necklace that has a very specific ability to help with this particular scenario? Wouldn't it be a plot twist if Hope was actually the villain pulling all the strings here? She might actually be interesting if that were the case. But I know better. Then we end this particular plot thread with some truly horrifying dialogue about MG realizing he's a superhero and Hope has her team of Avengers. For some reason, Penelope finds MG's antics about being a superhero hilarious, I have no idea why, and when Josie thanks MG for saving her, he pumps his fist and is all, "my first super-hero thank you!" And I'm just like, could you be more obnoxious and horrible? It's not like Josie just went through a traumatic experience or anything. Then we have an equally cheesy conversation between Penelope and Josie. They kiss and Josie laments on how much she hates Penelope and Penelope says, "I know". Cue the eye-roll, please.
But the episode, thankfully ends when Jo dies again, everyone is sad, and Alaric hits the necromancer with a shovel.
Something else I wanted to bring up. So before they kill Jo, at first the twins say they don't want to do it but then Jo tells them they're witches, they need to because witches are all about the natural balance and yadda yadda yadda. I just think Jo talking to the twins about what's natural and what isn't is kind of strange. The twins existing isn't natural. When Jo died the first time, the coven moved the twins from Jo's womb into Caroline's and for some reason, Caroline's womb still functioned perfectly despite being a vampire. Last I checked, that is something most decidedly not natural. Just thought I'd bring that up.
Phew, this episode, I didn't enjoy it but it could possibly have been enjoyable if it weren't for the fact 98% of the characters are self-inserts. It's really hard to care about characters who basically have no personality, no reason for me to like them. This episode gets a C-. Potential was there but completely squandered.
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doomonfilm · 3 years
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ShudderWeen : Ms .45 (1981)
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Three days into October, and so far I’ve been able to keep up my horror and thriller-based film viewership thanks to the niche catalog of films that Shudder has curated.  Next up on what I’ve dubbed ShudderWeen was a film that I’d never heard of, but hit me right on the bullseye of two very easy personal targets : suspense/thriller films and films that take place in New York.  The association to Drafthouse Films was a bonus, so without hesitation, I threw on the cult classic Ms .45.
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While not the traditional definition, some of my favorite horror in film is found in the realms of true crime, with a specific interest in how traumatic events can change the complexion and disposition of an individual in perplexing way.  Ms .45 shows us several shades of the “killer next door” scenario that has become commonplace in modern living, where it is easiest to turn a blind eye on the crimes and salacious behavior that takes place in our environments until it impacts us directly.  The flip side of this is inspected in the way that true privacy has become an impossibility for city dwellers, with the worst of it shown through a burglar, and the least of it presented in the form of a landlady that snoops around.  The all to familiar and deplorable practice of men exploiting any and every opportunity they can with women, be it casually or within the professional realm, is shown for the sad standard it is, and at least for the first act of the film, we are shown a view of existing as a woman that infuses us with the terrors some women have to learn to coexist with.  To that extent, I did find myself wondering if Thana’s title as the .45 Killer by the press was not only a clever shot at Son of Sam (no pun intended), but also a bit of narrative subtext that uses the caliber of guns as a sort of hierarchy setting?
Speaking of subtext and symbolism, Ms .45 uses plenty of it to great effect.  Thana, our protagonist turned universal threat, plays on at least two different levels of symbolism : her name is a reference to Thanatos, the personification of death in Greek mythology, while her character signifier of being mute stands as a sort of statement for the silence that sexual assault and workplace harassment victims must endure, a statement that was both timely and way ahead of its time.  Speaking of being way ahead of its time, Ms .45, intentionally or not, finds itself in the rare realm of political and cultural exploitation as it displays a rising torrential wave of violence aimed squarely at taking down the essence of the patriarchy.  Not since Repulsion have I seen PTSD displayed with such expressionism, with Thana’s apartment becoming a house of horrors for her after her spirit-breaking day, and her public persona literally morphing into an unjust angel of vengeance (Angel of Vengeance was actually an alternative title for this film).  As the third act kicks into gear, the true horror of the film is discovered in the way that Thana chooses to shed her victimhood and step into the role of aggressor.
For a horror film, things are surprisingly bright, be it the pastel shades in the sets, or the high exposure used to capture New York, which remains undefeated in its ability to be so photogenic and expressive.  The costuming is highly expressive and manages to stay away from being dated, and in particular, the high fashion shown is quite pleasing to the eye.  One true star of the film is the score... it is almost as if the absence of dialogue for Thana allows it to be more expressive than a score generally is.  It begins very minimal and simplistic at first, giving an eerie tinge to Thana’s experience in the wake of her assaults, but as she makes her transition in the second act, we are given a bit of a funk-based theme with a saxophone that wails pain, sadness and fear.  Even when the third act kicks into gear and everything goes haywire, the score appropriately gives us its all, fully turning into a never-ending loop of exploitation glory.
Zoë Tamerlis gives a virtuoso silent performance, challenging tons of different energy and moods into a seemingly endless wealth of deep stares and facial expressions in her gradual descent into madness. Albert Sinkys lays into his stereotypical domineering boss stance very hard at first, but as Tamerlis regresses, he wisely pulls back to a more humanitarian level of ham-handed understanding, making him oddly sympathetic.  Darlene Stuto steals the handful of scenes that she has dialogue, pouring all of the native New Yorker energy she can muster into her performance.  Eddita Sherman also does some brilliant performance work, taking what could easily be a throwaway one-note role and turning it into a dual wield of audience avatar tension-breaking comic relief.  S. Edward Singer lays the sleaze on thick in his brief appearance, while Jack Thibeau offsets this with a despondent broken man approach.  Appearances by Helen McGara, Nike Zachmanogloub, Peter Yellen, Vincent Gruppi, James Albanese and likely crowd favorite Bogey the Dog round out the affair.
Ms .45 is one of those films that I would love to own strictly for the use of having a visual aid during DJ sets, as it is a very gripping film without a heavy dependence on protagonist dialogue.  The story is easy to follow, wholly uneasy to process and, like any good psychological thriller, tough to reconcile with at its conclusion.  There are no pure victims in this film, only varying levels of criminals, sociopaths and people taking advantage of one another, making it both dark in spirit and truly tense.
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tandyoaken · 6 years
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TWO PINK LINES → BRANDY
TAGGING → Bryce MacGuffin (@brycemacguffin) & Tandy Oaken 
TIMELINE → February 3rd, 2018
SETTING → 1161 Wizard Way
SUMMARY → Tandy finally takes a certain test that she’s been putting off, thinking no one else is home...  TW for pregnancy scare.
Bryce Macguffin had a strange relationship with belief. He believed in some government conspiracies as quickly as he dismissed the existence of things like wisps, but one thing he'd never believed in was fate. Life, it seemed, was a series of unconnected moments. Things happened, people reacted, and so on and so forth. It's not to say he was wrong to not believe in fate, but it is worth noting that if he'd left his house even a moment before on this day, if he hadn't insisted on waiting for a text to hear that it was okay to go over to a friend's cottage, he wouldn't have heard the scream.
It was a scary noise, not the kind of scream one does when seeing a spider where it isn't expected - it was more like the sound one makes when their home is being broken into or when they drop a flat iron on their foot, and it elicited Bryce from his room faster than anything else had ever. With all the worrying about what was happening, he didn't have to worry about the who, at least. It was distinctly a girl's scream, and he only lived with one girl.
"Tandy?" The name he'd barely said escaped him, loudly and awkwardly and more worried than he probably intended. "Are you okay?" He hurried through the cottage to where he'd heard the sound, to the bathroom. His hand made it to the doorknob and for a moment it occurred to him that he might be bursting in on something inappropriate. What if she had fallen naked or something? The thought didn't last long though, because danger was worse than any potential embarrassment at least on his end and the instinct to help was too strong, and so he twisted the doorknob and opened the door, concern etched all over his face.
Tandy should have taken the test while Dolly was there. She shouldn't have taken it alone, but she'd been so hopeful that it would be nothing, praying that the test would tell her that she'd been worried for nothing and she could show up and surprise her bestie with a bottle of wine and a big smile afterwards... But it wasn't nothing. It was a pink plus sign, and as soon as the result had flashed in front of her eyes, Tandy had fallen to her knees and screamed. Why her? Worse, why with him ? It was a girl's worst nightmare, messing up and getting pregnant on what had turned out to be one of the worst nights of her life even before the added complication... and she didn't know what to do with herself now. She was almost paralyzed, unsure of what to do next, wishing she could wake up from this horrible nightmare.
The nightmare only got worse, though. The door flung open, and she blinked up in shock at the face hovering over her -- her roommate, Bryce or Bruce or whatever his name was. He was nice, but so quiet she hardly noticed him most of the time... so quiet she hadn't even realized he was home when she'd taken her test. She tried to open her mouth to go away, to tell him she didn't want anyone here and she didn't need anyone, either... But instead, she held up the test meekly for him to see as sobs finally wracked her body, realizing the seriousness of the situation she'd gotten herself into.
It was true that Bryce hadn't seen Tandy a lot despite their living situation, but even so he could hardly remember seeing her look so small before. The face she had wasn't one he'd seen anywhere else before, and his eyes were so locked on the horror behind hers that it was hard to even tear away from them long enough to gauge anything else about the situation but he had to. She wasn't bleeding, she wasn't naked, and she was alone, and nothing was knocked over, and so his worries were assuaged for a moment when he considered that perhaps he'd imagined the whole thing and that the worst thing about this situation was that he'd invaded someone's privacy. It wasn't until she held up the test that it truly hit him what was happening. His jaw dropped slightly and he felt like an intruder in this moment that was clearly traumatic and that she was going through, apparently, alone.
There were a million questions that came to mind, but the only thing he wanted to do was hug the girl. They weren't close enough for that, or for him to know if she even liked being touched, or if she preferred alone time or company, and he didn't know how to proceed. They weren't friends, they weren't anything to each other, but she was scared and if he could do anything to make that better right now, he would. "Hey, it's okay," he heard himself say as he lowered to the ground besides her. If she wanted him to go, he'd go, but right now maybe what she needed was to not feel alone. "It's all okay, and if it isn't okay, it will be." He bit his lip, the guilty thought of asking who the father was flashing through his mind when he was almost positive he could guess if he really tried. Instead he settled for asking "Do you want to talk about it?" in a quiet voice, waiting to see how he could be most useful to her in this situation.
“It’s okay.” Bryce’s words bounced around in Tandy’s head for a few seconds, but the weird part was, she knew he was right. She’d had weeks of putting this off to start to wrap her head around what might be growing inside of her body right now, and at the end of the day, it wasn’t even the thought of a baby that she was dreading. It was the thought of who it belonged to, how small and stupid and insignificant she felt to the baby’s father -- because the test confirmed what she’d been worried about, the test proved there was a baby on the way, now -- that had her screaming in agony. If it had been anyone else -- Eli, Robbie Liddell, hell, even Dawn... so many attractive guys in this town who hadn’t treated her like garbage -- she might almost be happy right about now. Instead, she’d wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, to let her frustrations out... and Bryce had caught her, leaving her feeling small and embarrassed all over again. 
“Do you know how to make a good cup of tea?” Tandy asked weakly, not sure what else to say to this guy who lived under her roof but was practically a virtual stranger. She should be calling Dolly or Dawn or Tawny and updating them on what she’d just found out, but... telling them would make it real. Realer than it already was, at least, and she wanted to just have some calm, to really process it, before that moment came and she had to start really considering what to do. “Maybe without caffeine? I haven’t really... researched what I am and am not allowed to have at this point,” Tandy admitted, biting her lip. She was usually so confident, but this was new territory for her, and she didn’t know what to do. “And I’m sorry for yelling like that, or scaring you. I just... didn’t think anyone was home to hear me. You won’t tell anyone, right?”
Bryce grinned a little awkwardly at her request, but nodded. Thankfully, tea was his drink of choice, but the truth was that even if he didn't know how to make a cup of tea, he'd Google it or something to be able to do it for Tandy right now. They might not be friends but she deserved at the very least a modicum of human kindness. "No caffiene is probably a good call. You can't go wrong with herbal teas there. Do you like chamomile?" he asked hopefully, since that was the flavor he always had the most of at any given time. He shook his head immediately at both her apology and her question. "No, don't say sorry for that. It's okay, really, I'm just glad you're not hurt. And this is your news. It's not my place to tell anyone," he answered honestly. It was Tandy's business and Tandy's business alone. And, well, probably the business of whomever the father was, but that information wasn't his business either. Getting to his feet, Bryce offered Tandy a hand so that they could rise and head to the kitchen.
As they waited for the water to boil, it occurred to Bryce with minor amusement that this was the most amount of time he'd ever spent with his roommate. They weren't the kind of people that ran in each other's circles, he supposed, and as he packed his tea infuser with tea leaves and poured the hot water in, he wondered idlly if they'd have ever talked if it wasn't for this. He poured a cup and looked up at her, nodding his chin as he asked, "Do you like honey or sugar or anything?" He poured himself a plain cup and placed it to the side, waiting for more infomation so he could finish Tandy's drink however she liked it. "I know it's probably a dumb question, but do you want to talk about...anything?" he asked, handing over her cup and sitting across from her, wondering if it was better to talk to her about it or to leave her alone. He had a feeling he'd find out sooner rather than later, because from the little he knew about Tandy, he knew she wasn't shy about what she wanted.
Tandy didn’t really speak as she watched Bryce shuffle around the kitchen, her arms folded protectively over her stomach -- because now, she was almost positive there was something inside of there to protect. She just had to go to a doctor to find out for 100% sure, but she was beyond late on her period, she’d been feeling so off moodwise, and there was a pregnancy test to confirm her worst fears. Or... some kind of fears, at least, because as much as she loved family and as much as it was weirdly easy to picture being a mom, there were plenty of things still scary about this equation. She let her mind start to wander, barely even noticing Bryce was talking to her until she felt his expectant stare on her, and she shook her head to clear it as best she could. “Honey would be nice, please,” she said meekly, trying to keep her stare from glazing over and getting vacant this time, especially since Bryce seemed to want her to talk about what was going on.
“I shouldn’t have made Dolly leave; you shouldn’t have to deal with this,” Tandy murmured, staring into the finished cup of tea miserably. “This is my problem, mine and... Ajax’s,” Tandy muttered darkly, not sure why she’d let the name slip past her lips. But all of Walt would know soon enough, wouldn’t they? Her stomach would start growing and growing, and Ajax may have been stupid enough to call her the wrong name, but he wasn’t stupid enough to not at least ask who the father was if she got pregnant. Was he? The fact that she didn’t know if he’d even care about her having his kid or not made her eyes well up with angry tears, and she buried her head in her hands, rubbing her eyes for a moment. “I just... it’s weird, I haven’t even admitted this to my best friend, but if it were anyone’s but his I think I’d... want it, you know? But it is his, and I don’t want anything to do with him ever again, and now I don’t know what to do.” She stirred her tea idly, bringing it up to her lips and blowing on it to cool it off before putting it back down without a sip. “What would you do?"
Bryce bit his lip, but his musings of how to best phrase the notion that she wasn't alone fell to the ground with a crash like broken glass when he heard the name Ajax. Ajax . He'd known Tandy and Ajax were sleeping together, it wasn't exactly a secret, but he hadn't even considered that Aileen's Ajax could be the father of Tandy's baby. Not that he was Aileen's Ajax anymore, but that's how Bryce had thought about him for so long that even now that Bryce and Aileen were finally giving dating a try, his first thought when he heard the name Ajax was to think of the red-headed girl he was so fond of. His second thought was about this red-headed girl and the way she'd said Ajax's name, the way it made her cry. Brycec stayed silent and listened so he could absorb everything she was saying, nodding as she went to let her know he was paying attention, and he definitely was. A million questions were racing through his head, among them 'What had Ajax done to Tandy that made her so mad?' and 'She wanted this baby, to an extent, but what would that mean for her life?'. There was so much to consider, he didn't envy the sudden hundreds of weights of responsibility that had fallen on her shoulders.
Her question gave him pause and he let out a breath. "There's so much that this affects, it's hard to know where to start," Bryce answered carefully. "But, for starters, I know Ajax. Not personally," he admitted, "but he dated a friend of mine. I know he isn't the brightest or the most reputable. He's not who anyone would chose to have a child with, but it isn't about him. At the end of the day, it's about yout. If you want a baby that never knows its father, that's your right to decide as the mother. A lot of happy and healthy people were raised that way and if you have the means and the support system, it's an option. If you want to wait before having a child, that's your right to decide, too. There are tons of options, and everything else, from the father to your friends to your school or professional life can adjust to what you choose." He took a sip of his own tea and put it back down. "It's a lot of big decisions and I wish there was a way to make them easier. You don't have to decide anything immediately though, you have time," he tried. "And right now, you can just do what you need to do, whether that's absorb or rant or rest." He paused then cracked a nervous smile when he realized how much he'd been talking. "I'm sorry the first time I talk to you is me basically lecturing you," he said, looking down at his tea. "And I'm sorry for everything that's happening. And for not saying congratulations yet. I wasn't sure if it was, you know, appropriate."
“Believe me, I know,” Tandy muttered darkly, her shoulders tending when Bryce mentioned that Ajax was his friend’s ex. Even though she knew the whole thing wasn’t Aileen’s fault by any means, it was easier to harbor a grudge against the other girl than to blame herself. She’d gone into everything with Ajax no strings attached, and she’d done her part of the deal — Tandy hadn’t gotten attached emotionally to the demigod at all. He was the one who’d broken their pact; using her as a substitute for an ex that he couldn’t have? That was a big fucking string, even if it wasn’t tied to her she’d still gotten tangled in their knots. “And it’s fine, it’s not a lecture,” Tandy said, lifting her tea up to her lips and taking a deep sip of it. She suddenly didn’t want to talk much more; she didn’t want another man in her life who cared more about Aileen Dunbroch than they did about her. “It’s kind of nice hearing someone say all the same things I’m thinking, at least it makes me feel like I’m kind of doing something right here.” Letting her tea rest on the table, she hugged her arms around her stomach again, surprised by how nice it felt to hear Bryce congratulate her. Her ill will of a few seconds earlier — were those the kinds of moodswings she had to look forward to now that she was pregnant? — evaporated, and happy tears welled at the corner of her eyes now instead. “You’re the only person who’s said that. Everyone else just made me feel like a fuck up, whether they meant to or not.” It wasn’t a fair thing to say, not when she’d been stressed and no one else even had confirmation yet, but Tandy had needed to hear it more than she’d realized. “If I do decide to have it, I know he or she is going to be one hell of an amazing baby.”
Bryce was used to only being around people he'd known his whole life that reading Tandy's reactions was no easy feat. It felt like she went through emotions so much faster than he did, and he didn't know if he was helping or making things worse as he went along. He did smile just a little when she said it wasn't a lecture, though; even if he wasn't doing this right, at least he wasn't doing it so wrong that he was making her feel trapped in some mansplaining of pregnancy. Just when he thought he was getting a footing on her feelings, she was hugging herself and crying and he was thrown for a loop all over again. As she spoke, though, he thought he understood her pain, at least a little. There was a lot to dislike about the situation, but the situation was still a baby . She probably even kind of loved it already, whether she ended up having it or not. "I'm sure that people just don't want to say the wrong thing," he tried, "especially in tough situations. But you have a lot of people that love you and they'll be happy with whatever makes you happy, you know. Your dads, and your family, your friends." He didn't know much about Tandy, but he from what he'd heard about her dads and her family and from all the times he'd seen her going out with friends, he knew that she seemed like one of the least alone people he'd ever met. "And I know I'm only your roommate, but I know enough to know that if you decide it's time to be a mother? You're going to have one happy baby. Because you're smart and you're brave and you, um, know how to keep a bathroom clean," he smiled, hoping the anti-climatic compliment would cheer her up a little bit more.
Tandy nodded solemnly; there was only so much that could be said about the topic before it felt like she was going around in circles. She'd been thinking on this non-stop for weeks, ever since the time for her period had come and gone, and she just nodded weakly. What could Bryce say that she hadn't already thought for herself? She'd be shocked if he said anything at all that was new to her, but it was kind of sweet of him to try, at least. "My friends and family are pretty great, huh? Even if my sister says she won't touch the baby until he or she is five," Tandy said with a watery chuckle. The tightness in her chest felt a little lighter now; she was past the worrying, and into the acceptance phase. Barring a miracle when she went to the doctor, this was happening -- in some form or another, there was a decision to make, but for now she was content to imagine this baby as a real, concrete thing unless she decided otherwise. "And hey, maybe now Ajax will actually learn my name," she said with a roll of her eyes, unable to resist one more jab at the only dark shadow hanging over this. "Apparently he doesn't appreciate my bathroom cleaning skills as much as you," she added, trying to brush away her bitterness with weak jokes and hollow smiles. "I had no idea you noticed, I clean the sink drain with old toothbrushes like, twice a month."
Bryce kind of laughed at the mention of Tandy's little sister - Tawny? - being reticent to hold the baby. "She seems like a smart girl based on the robot war comments I've seen her make, she'll come around to holding a baby before that . They're nicest to hold when they're still small and don't kick you for holding them, or at least that's what I think," he admitted. Being one of the four largest clans in Scotland meant there was always a baby to hold at any given time, and before long they were toddlers who talked back and stole pastries and played with weapons when they shouldn't. His brow wrinkled at the comment about Ajax, though. "I'm sure he knows your name," he tried, although he wasn't too sure at all. He didn't have much against Ajax but he'd always considered the giant guy to be a little bit on the slow side. It kind of sounded like Tandy just wanted him to notice and appreciate her and Bryce wondered if she was in love with her baby daddy, though this probably wasn't the right time to ask. "Of course I noticed. I clean sometimes too, but compared to how often I had to clean in my high school cottage, this place is a godsend. And I kind of assumed it wasn't Eli or Winter," he said, though he didn't know much about the other two roommates they had at all.
"When it's yours, it's probably nicest no matter what stage of life its in," Tandy said wistfully, hoping she was right. Or maybe hoping someone would tell her she was wrong; as sure as she seemed that she could do this in the moment, she could wake up tomorrow entirely over her head instead. Her mood soured again when Bryce insisted that Ajax probably knew her name, though. "You don't get it -- he does know my name, but he called me Aileen when we were... you know," she sighed, shaking her head. "But I don't want to talk about it. It just kind of... spoils things, that those are the circumstances that this baby was made under, you know? But it's fine. I'm fine." She drained the last sip of her tea, standing up from her chair and saying, "I kind of think I need a nap before I call Dolly and tell her what happened. But um, thank you. For listening and stuff," Tandy said, crouching slightly to give him an awkward side hug. "We should, I don't know, actually talk again sometime. I can tell you all about the things I do to clean the baseboards when you're not home," the redhead joked weakly as she gave a small wave and retreated to her room to cry again.
Bryce nodded in agreement. He'd never had a child before so he couldn't say for sure but family was a huge part of his life. He couldn't even imagine what it'd feel like to have his own. He didn't get to ruminate long before that bomb of information about Ajax and Bryce's current...girlfriend...type thing exploded right in front of his eyes. "What?" he blinked, not understanding for a second until it clicked. And when it did finally clicked, he wasn't sure whether to first be mad at Ajax for hurting Tandy's feelings like that or to focus on the fact that this could mean that Aileen's ex still had feelings for her. On the one hand, he'd considered Aljax to be dead in the water since their high school breakup, but on the other, it made everything with Tandy make a little more sense, like why she was so mad at Ajax and why it was a dark cloud over this whole baby situation. He wouldn't want someone who showed him such little regard to be permanently tied into his life either, and he wondered when or if she would tell Ajax now. He could only nod dumbly as she insisted on needing a nap. "Of course," he replied, returning the awkward side hug to the best of his abilities. He probably would've talked to Tandy again anyway, if only to check in on her or offer her tea again randomly, but he liked that the suggestion came from her and smiled. "And that would be nice. I'll be seeing you, Tandy. " He waved back as she walked out of sight. It was a lot of information to absorb in only a few moments  - and he could only imagine what it felt like for her - and he sat there longer trying to figure out what to feel that he almost forgot that he'd been on his way to meet Aileen when he first heard his roommate scream. He almost wanted to text and cancel and just stay in, to further digest everything he'd received and in case Tandy screamed again, but he knew that wasn't likely. He got up to the front door and, sparing one last look down the hall to Tandy's room, exited quietly.
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“ANNABELLE” REVIEW
31 Days of Tarot Halloween - Day 3
Card: XIII Union
For Day Three of my horror/thriller movie marathon, I decided on a film that I had never seen, but had heard quite a bit about. I in fact, incidentally procured a movie poster of it several years ago, after being locked out of the theater, and let back in by an attendant (who gave me the poster). So I felt obligated to add this one to my list.
…and I regret it.
When Annabelle was first announced to an eager audience that had visions of a modern day Child’s Play, I was as excited as I was apprehensive.
And, as it turns out, for good reason.
Child’s Play this movie is most certainly not. It lacks the grittiness and dark atmosphere that the posters and trailers promised us. The movie receives some merit for being based off a legend of a doll of the same name, that is currently sealed behind a glass box at the Warrens Occult Museum in Monroe, Connecticut; owned by demonologists Ed and Lorraine Warren.
The doll came into the possession of a nurse in the 70s, who felt malicious intent seeping from it like a festering wound. A psychic proclaimed it was possessed by a woman named Annabelle Higgins. Of course, this has been met with much skepticism for the popularized possessed doll trope. Which I think possibly stems from the strange, almost haunting appearance of antique porcelain dolls.
The film is a prequel to the Conjuring series, which I was unaware of (despite the movie cover smacking me in the face with it). It was produced by Peter Safran, directed by John R. Leonetti (I’m sure these names mean something to someone), and distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures.
OVERVIEW
Annabelle begins as most horror flicks do (disappointingly un-Child’s Play like) with a peaceful introduction to the characters. It opens with a married couple sitting in a church, listening to the priest’s sermon. Now admittedly, I should have known that this movie would follow the same hard-beaten path of possession-based movies that is their foundation.
Doll is possessed, the Devil is involved, there’s something creepy and evil lurking about, a priest gets involved but the priest fails, and people die before everyone is saved.
Till the next time of course.
It’s a very standard formula this film sticks to like a fly in a honey trap. And that’s fine. That’s not the major problem I have with Annabelle.
My major problem was that it brought nothing new to the table. And I could never figure out where the Rated R scenes were located. Was I too distracted by the sunny smiles of John and Mia Form’s (Ward Horton and Annabelle Wallis; I’m not making that up. The main character is played by an actress named Annabelle) perfect little lives and ideal, gouge-out-your-heart marriage?
Till that is, their home is broken into by their neighbors’ missing daughter, and she and her “estranged” boyfriend attempt to murder the Forms. The girl - one Annabelle Higgins - commits suicide while holding Mia’s doll, in a most cliche ritualistic fashion.
Naturally traumatized after having been stabbed and almost losing her baby, Mia attempts to rid herself of the doll. But after an incident at their home and the couple move, with newborn baby Leah in tow, the doll reappears amongst their things.
Mia’s decision to keep the doll and face her fears (note I say face, not overcome) is just one of the many flimsy ways that Annabelle tries to sideline the cheap plastic box of tropes this disc came in, while still being pressed right up against it.
THEMES
POSSESSION
I feel obligated to talk about the central theme of the movie first, since it’s most definitely what captured everyone’s intention.
Now, the possessed doll trope is a familiar one. Which isn’t bad. In fact, it’s good. It gives us watchers something to relate to, to get excited for, to compare to. And then…that’s where you run into problems.
Comparison.
I grew up with the Chucky franchise (which admittedly, most of the later ones are pretty bad; looking at you Seed of Chucky), and I’ve seen Dead Silence (which in my opinion, didn’t get enough praise as it should have). And I’ve watched plenty of devil or demon or ghost possessed movies, and so for so popular a movie, I had high expectations for Annabelle. Too high.
The possession element is pretty mundane. The ghost of the mysterious girl Annabelle Higgins haunts both the doll and our too-happy family; subtly at first, and then more forcefully as the film progresses.
The doll moves, doors open and close, furniture is knocked around, people are hurt. Honestly, I don’t have much to say about any of this. If you’ve seen any other possession-based movie than you’ve seen Annabelle.
CULT
What’s a possession movie without the aspect of the Devil and demons for a God-worshipping couple to face?
When I heard a news report of the Manson Family in the background at the film’s start, I thought: “Yeah, okay, it’s been done, but let’s see how they handle it.”
Well, film writer Gary Dauberman (who doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page of his own), didn’t handle it. Not really. We hear a tidbit of the news report, we are told Annabelle Higgins and her boyfriend were members of a cult, but all references to Charles Manson end there. They’re not involved.
Even why or how Annabelle Higgins came to possess the doll isn’t touched upon. There was a small ritual that summoned some weird creature that only appears twice in the film. In reality, the threat isn’t this Devil or demon, it’s Annabelle.
I will give praise where praise is do. Those brief flashes of Annabelle are a nice touch. Not scary, but ominous. The moment when she appears to Mia as a child, then grows into an adult as she attacks her, was intriguing. I can only wish that the ghost of Annabelle could do more. Tease Mia, play upon her motherly instincts, chide her, beguile her, just oh my god, something!
But there’s no depth here. We never learn how Annabelle joined the cult (or even if she was a part of the Manson Family for sure), or what her motives were. Why she murdered her family.
Yep, pretty soon the movie Annabelle is just going to be the ghost of a memory itself.
WHAT IT PROMISES, BUT NEVER DELIVERS
I feel like this deserved to have a category as a theme, because this movie does this quite a bit. A good example is the one I stated above. The mention of the Manson Family and a cult’s devious intentions are never expanded upon.
And it’s not only these two aspects. One of my biggest gripes was the revelation that it was Mia’s soul promised to this Devil/demon (which just looked like a slightly malformed, burned man), and yet I don’t recall a point in the movie this happened.
When its first thought to be the baby Leah’s soul promised, I concluded that the father John must be involved with the cult. Throughout the movie he always seemed a little…off. His smiles a bit too thin, his eyes a bit too bright, even as he’s trying to assure his wife that they can beat this possessed doll. It was awkward. Weird. Suspenseful.
But it wasn’t meant to be. John Form really is the sickeningly understanding, hard-working guy we’re presented with. Nothing nefarious about him. How truly disappointing.
Now let’s talk about the Devil/demon that briefly chases Mia. We see it in two scenes. Two very brief scenes. When she’s in the basement and it lures her with a moving baby carriage, then chases her up the stairs. And then when it’s climbing on her ceiling, and thrusts do-good Evelyn out of the apartment.
And then…it disappears. Our secondary antagonist is nothing but a bully that pushes little kids around on the playground, before getting bored.
The last thing I will discuss in this section (before actually moving on to the theme I’m really supposed to be detailing) is the horror aspect. Possibly the only part I would consider that makes this movie Rated R is when Annabelle and BF (or the Better Forgotten as I’ve dubbed him) attack John and Mia in their home. There’s a little blood, a little violence, and that’s. Really. It.
No mutilated bodies. No nudity. Hell, the scene isn’t even really interesting till we see Annabelle’s blood seeping into the doll’s eye socket. And that’s still rather meh.
“UNION"
Okay at last! I can discuss something positive in this movie!
(And if you truly believed that, you haven’t been entirely paying attention)
There are many examples of Union in Annabelle. Foremost, is the united strength of John and Mia’s love in the face of this new threat to their very ordinary lives. And as can be expected - of course - John is an unbeliever at the beginning (that heathen!). But faced with a hysterical wife and underwhelming evidence (he never really sees anything peculiar himself till the end), he stands vigilant in the face of Annabelle’s ghost. It is through the power of their marriage and the strength of their love…!
Aaaannndddd…I just can’t do this.
While John and Mia’s marriage is a central focal point of the movie, and it is in fact their love that gives them strength to oppose the evil forces working against them, it frankly sickens me. It is the same tale told again, made somewhat eerie by John’s dismissive personality.
Instead I’ll talk about the most obvious case of Union in the film, which is that of Annabelle’s soul and the doll.
I really do wish that the movie had expanded upon this more. Told or - better yet - shown, how Annabelle Higgins knew the ritual necessary for this. Though I suppose that’s what Annabelle: Creation is about (yes…?…please…?). The doll - which was already eerie to begin with - takes on a more sinister appearance as the film progresses.
The skin turns more grey, the blush in its cheeks more pronounced, the smile thinner and more malevolent, the eyes more frightening. We never really see the doll move, not even it’s eyes, which makes it somehow creepier than if we had. While in a way I wish the movie had given a reason for this transformation, I think we’re better off without it.
The last aspect of Union I want to discuss, is that of mother and child. The bond of love that is undeniable.
This connection is very paramount in the movie. It’s Sharon’s Higgins’ daughter that returns home and commits suicide in anticlimactic ritualistic fashion. It’s Mia and her unborn child that the watchers are most concerned for. It’s the memory of her daughter that drives Evelyn to commit suicide in order to save the Form family.
In the start of the film, John worries about what an unborn Leah is exposed to, convinced the outside does in fact, have an effect on his baby. He wants her to come born innocent and carefree. And Mia chooses to uproot her life in thought of her daughter, and to keep the doll (in a moment of eerie behavior I really mistakenly thought was leading somewhere) as a reminder that they must face their fears head on.
There are difficulties, of course. Mia seems detached from her child at times. When Priest Ferez asks for a picture of Leah to welcome the newest member to their church, Mia doesn’t want to be a part of the photo. The priest convinces her, but she remains reluctant.
The why of this is never clearly stated. During an argument with his wife, John suggests she is suffering postpartum depression. An accusation that Mia quickly denies.
And yet there are signs of it. Mia is depressed, craves adult conversation, and yet rarely seeks it. Instead she at one point turns her attention to two children living in the building. At times, when she holds her baby, it is almost as if she is holding a doll (which I wish they had played upon this more).
Yet when Mia fears the summoned creature is after her baby, that almost casual dismissiveness disappears, and we see the true depth of the bond that is between a mother and child.
Mia is completely prepared to leap to her death, to give up her soul, to save her child. And she even does it. But her husband grabs her and tries to reason with her.
And then the watcher sees the revelation that comes over friend Evelyn’s face. She who had lost her daughter Ruby in a car accident. Ruby, who had visited her mother in a dream, saying there was something yet Evelyn had to do.
And with the heart-shaped locket holding the baby picture of Ruby in her hand, she leaps.
To me, Annabelle was less a horror movie, and more so the tale of a conflicted mother and wife, confronted with the diabolical and the unknown. A woman, who has led a happy and ordinary life, is now faced with the most difficult of situations.
The murder of friends, the assault on herself and unborn baby, the deterioration of her marriage, the challenge to her faith, and the test of her love for her child. For the promise of a life greater than her own.
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