#i simply think just reducing her to the Source Of All Evil in this show is just. cop out

[soljiwann]

sometimes im plagued by the fact that some dramas just make women evil(tm) simply bc they hate to see a girlboss win

#this is about a meta taiwanese drama im watching #called lost romance #i just think the elder sister is Neat. #why do yall gotta make em evil do u know how hard it is for women to thrive #i simply think just reducing her to the Source Of All Evil in this show is just. cop out #i dont like watching ceo dramas At All. but the premise of this drama looked interesting in that #its very Meta. like an editor gets transported inside the book she was supposed to edit meta #and she realizes SHE is the second evil villian lead or smth #and she scoffs at the stereotypical cliche shit that happens #like its along the same vein im guessing of extraordinary you... but Not Quite ya feel? #anyway

[dercolaris]

Purification

Fandom: Resident Evil Village

Characters: Mother Miranda, Salvatore Moreau

Relationship: Mother Miranda & Salvatore Moreau (None-romantic)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word length: 2052

Warnings: No warnings

Status: Complete

Short Summary: There are still doubts in the once pure heart of the Lord.

The heat was lurking heavily in the air as Salvatore dragged himself into the protective walls of the old church. It was so incredibly hot outside. He practically couldn't remember when Romania had such a warm summer. Temperatures usually climbed to twenty degrees or less by mid-year – not nearly forty. The doctor wiped his completely sweaty forehead and closed the large doors behind him. A pleasant coolness settled over his still busily mutating body. The Lord took a few deep, liberating breaths. The black-haired man quickly recovered himself and strolled up to the impressive altar, looking nervously around the spacious church again and again. The shadows of the hungry Lycans flitted past the cold stone, looking like unique patterns on the otherwise bare walls. The creatures growled loudly and dug their claws deep into the rock while moving around. They patrolled the whole village, especially around their high priestess. Otherwise, the Lycans regularly terrorized the surviving villagers or hunted animals in the adjacent forests. Salvatore had little to do with the cult's bloodthirsty aides. Of course, he had also experimented with the mould on some creatures, but without any significant success and the mindless nature of the mutants sometimes made him doubt the good intentions of Mother Miranda. The doctor brooded for a moment. She had once been so peaceful and shone with foresight and unattainable wisdom. For this reason, the villagers in particular could not believe for a long time that the priestess could actually be hostile to them. This blind trust had made it unexpectedly easy for the woman to build her own army and drastically reduce the human fraction of the small village. The Lord shrugged his shoulders slightly. He had sincere pity for the poor souls, but they would serve a greater purpose. At least that's what Mother Miranda kept saying. The man blinked a little and looked at the altar, then tilted his head slightly to one side. Everything seemed to be staged again today, even almost wrong. Salvatore half closed his eyes. The black-haired man was still not an idiot, even if the parasite slowly ate its way through his mind and gradually robbed him of the ability to think independently. This suffering of the poor people was not justified, no matter how hard the priestess tried to convince her subordinates otherwise. The black-haired man put a hand on one of the golden cups on the richly decorated tablecloth and carefully lifted the noble metal.

His grey eyes looked at the blood-red gemstones and for a moment regarded his own shape in the reflection of the material. Countess Dimitrescu and Lord Heisenberg seemed to have been completely robbed of their former humanity by the Cadou and were only little interested in the fate of the common people. Basically, the villagers were only expendable research objects or served as a slowly dwindling source of food for the family of the vampire. And the doll maker in her never ending solitude? Countess Beneviento was too caught up in her own world, which did not allow her to judge the current situation with a sense of logic. Salvatore carefully put the cup back. The priestess was probably just trying to convince him by now of her good intentions, but that wasn't really necessary. In principle, the doctor had no choice but to stay by her side and serve her. He could feel the parasites very clearly in his body. They moved through his organs, looking for new places to infiltrate and infect. They planted their poison deep in his cells. The man now closed his eyes completely. He feared the total loss of his former compassion. Wasn't that what made him and his family so special? Above all, his father, a noble doctor without great demands, had repeatedly explained to him during his childhood that their work was not for own enrichment and was only intended to help the general public. The Moreau family's job was to keep the village in excellent health. Salvatore looked down on the floor, concerned. He now successfully trampled this code under the force of the Cadou. The black-haired man looked up at the half-destroyed cross and finally fell to his sore knees. The Lord wiped the tears from his eyes and finally clasped his hands tightly. He lowered his head in humility and began to say a quiet prayer.

A solitary prayer for all the sacrifices the cult had already demanded and who would follow in the near future. The doctor knew that God had left this village years ago. Presumably he did not want to watch his own creation perish under the hand of evil. Salvatore spoke the 'Our Father' in a shaky voice. Perhaps the angry and restless souls would forgive him if he expressed his repentance to them. He ignored the constant growling of the Lycans, repeated his silent prayer three times. After a few seconds the man looked up at the symbol of his former faith. It would probably not be long before the cross succumbed to the extreme weather in Romania and fell down. The old chains were way too rusty. The doctor got up with great difficulty and snorted softly. He was the only one of the counts who actually came to church regularly to pray. Salvatore was about to make his way back to his reservoir when a melodic woman's voice stopped him: “Salvatore. Haven't we talked about this several times, my son?” Mother Miranda. The black-haired man shrank in an instant and turned to the priestess, startled. She came slowly towards him, a small smile lay on her lips. The man mumbled softly: “I can't bring myself to not pray at least once a week. My parents raised me to praise the Lord and I don't want to cover my families name in shame by simply forgetting old traditions.” The person addressed nodded slowly and took a step closer to her subordinate. As usual, there was no denial in her eyes, but a small trace of disappointment. This expression suddenly faded and gave way to a seldom observed warmth. After a while the woman spoke calmly: “I have always valued this loyalty in your soul, my child. A gentle and generous heart beats in your chest.” The Lord looked confused at the leader of the cult. Was she really serious? Her eyes left no room for doubt.

The doctor played with his fingers and replied shyly: "That is firmly connected with my original profession, Mother." The priestess laughed a little. She put her hand tenderly on the man's bulging cheek and caressed it tenderly. She spoke slowly while stroking the skin: “It is always touching to watch how seriously you take the suffering of the unbelievers and pray for their unsaved salvation. You are more than entitled to rule by my side, no matter what my other children say. I need a pure heart like yours for my plans, in order to maintain the balance between necessary hard-heartedness and good-naturedness." Salvatore swallowed a large lump down his sore throat. Her words sounded meek as usual, but the content was anything but peaceful. He knew all too well what hard-heartedness actually meant to the priestess. The leader of the cult showed no mercy in achieving her goals and regularly showed this nature in her dealings with the villagers. The black-haired replied hesitantly: “I really want to believe your words, Mother, but I have a hard time looking at the sheer destruction around you. Are all these sacrifices as necessary as you always say?” The woman raised her eyebrows slightly. She was apparently surprised by this question. Before the priestess could answer, the Lord added, almost begging: “Please tell me the truth at last. I can't stand the uncertainty or another lie in my life.” Mother Miranda ran her thumb over the man's cheekbones. She remained silent for a while, seeming to ponder an appropriate formulation for her answer. Finally the woman reassuringly stated: “It is necessary, Salvatore. The locals have followed a misconception and need to be purified in order to know their true destiny. Unfortunately, drastic means are often required for this.” The doctor looked the priestess in the eyes. He searched for the hidden lie, some sign that there was a valid reason to doubt the leader's intentions. After a while the black-haired man lowered his gaze again and asked cautiously: "I have to trust in your words, don't I?"

The woman smiled gently, only nodded slowly. She turned to the altar and lifted the cup that the Lord had held in his hands earlier. As if by itself, the vessel filled with a red liquid. Mother Miranda handed the goblet to Salvatore and said calmly: “Drink up, my son. It will quench your thirst for certainty and give you a clearer view of our task.” Small black dots floated in the strange drink. The Lord took the cup with trembling fingers and smelled the liquid slightly. At least it wasn't human blood, but the many pieces in the drink made him sceptical. He looked up uncertainly. The leader ran her fingers over the balding head of the man and quietly assured him: “Trust me, my child. It won't harm you. Drink.” The doctor looked back into the liquid. Finally he made up his mind and put the mug to his lips. Salvatore couldn't see the black dots moving in the direction of his mouth on their own. He drank the indefinable drink in big gulps. A sweet taste spread across his tongue, as well as a certain coolness in his whole body. The black-haired man wiped his lips with the back of his hand and handed the goblet to the priestess. Suddenly he was panting hard, practically gasping for air. Something was moving in his body. The Lord fell hard on his already aching knees and clutched his slippery temple with his fingers. Mother Miranda put the cup back on the altar, then carefully placed both of her hands on his head. She spoke almost gracefully in a soft voice: “I will cleanse you of all your doubts, my son, and take away the difficulty of having to make important decisions on your own any more. Express your loyalty to me and I will end your current suffering."

A strange feeling crept into his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw black dots moving through his superficial blue veins on his arm. Salvatore opened his mouth a little, but no words came out of his throat. The pain in his chest got worse and worse, but suddenly he no longer believed that it was a bad thing. A strong tingling sensation on his back signalled that something was happening to him. At that moment another parasite broke out of his skin and stared out into the world with icy eyes. The doctor finally replied in a whisper: "I will be loyal to you forever, Mother." As promised, the pain disappeared as if by magic. What remained was a feeling of closeness to the woman in front of him. They might not have the same blood, but their connection seemed beyond this ridiculous family trait. The cult leader gestured him to rise. She breathed a little kiss on the man's forehead and meekly whispered: “That's right, my child. Let go of this nonsensical prayer to a dead God and devote yourself entirely to your task. I have to be able to trust in you.” The Lord nodded eagerly, a broad smile crept onto his lips. He wasn't going to fail her. He couldn't fail her. Salvatore dragged himself to the gate of the church, flinching again and again from the working poison in his body. He finally wandered out into the stifling heat. The priestess watched him carefully and waited until she found herself back in her usual loneliness. Only then did she speak to herself, barely audible: “With all the others, only one Cadou was enough, but your ridiculous morality keeps you sane with three parasites now. I don't know whether to be impressed or upset about this development, Moreau.” Mother Miranda stood at the altar for a while, then withdrew to the basement of the church. There was too much to do right now to philosophize about such small failures.

#Resident Evil 8 #Resident Evil Village #Salvatore Moreau #Mother Miranda #Cadou #Parasite #Hurt #Comfort #None-Romantic #Religious #Priestress Miranda #Miranda #Salvatore #Moreau #Lord Moreau

[fermented-writers-block]

Who and what is Kikimora?

Although she has only made a single appearance in the show with just barely three lines to her name, Kikimora is an interesting character to me in what her apparent position and possible inspirations could mean in terms of the overall plot and history of the Boiling Isles going forward. 

Starting off, it is interesting to note how, so far, Kikimora is THE most respected character we’ve actually seen in the show - as Belos has yet to make an official appearance - as well as having one of the biggest yet understated impacts on the plot. Of course, the former can be inferred by how Lilith - THE leader of the best of the best witches outside of Emperor Belos himself - defers to her in a subservient manner, but for someone with such little screentime, Kikimora’s appearance set into motion an impending deadline that Lilith now has to fulfill soon if she wants Belos’ end of their promise. 

Additionally, it’s a subtle detail, but Kikimora’s use of just Lilith’s first name implies a ton of familiarity between the two and or that Kikimora is much, MUCH higher ranking than Kikimora in the hierarchy. As for figuring out what position she fills, well:

She is most likely Belos’ right hand woman after all, and quite literally at that. 

However, besides the literal wordplay of her design, I’ve been looking into the origins of her name and found that "kikimora" refers to a kind of spirit within Slavic mythology of which there are two kinds: one from the forest married to the spirit Domovoi,and the other from the swamp married to the spirit Leshy.

There's conflicting accounts on whether kikimora are evil or simply a difficult spirit to appease between the sources I could find, but a common thread seems to be a close association with spinning and being a symbol of impending misfortune with her psychic abilities. 

However, what I find most interesting and what I’d like to focus on here is the way she is most commonly depicted in terms of appearance. Between the unclear translated details of her exact stance and attitude towards humans, all of the sources I’ve seen more or less agree that she is a kind of powerful house spirit that is small enough to pass through keyholes, and that she is either a goddess of or are highly associated with chickens - sometimes bearing chicken feet like the ones in the drawn rendition below:

As to why I find this detail interesting, for those of you who haven’t been following my discussions with my friend @sepublic​, we have been working on plotting out the various possible narrative parallels between the characters of The Owl House and the in-universe characters of the Good Witch Azura series for a while now, with Luz and Amity being Azura and each other’s Hecate, Eda and Lilith as the old lady/mentor figure, and King and Emperor Belos as the likely small animal companions/proclaimed group leader.

With these parallels established, I have come to the conclusion that there is a FOURTH set of characters - one whose correlation in the Azura books we’ve yet to see or hear about, but will play an important role in both the overall Owl House plot and the in-universe Azura series - of which Kikimora makes up one half on Amity’s side. 

Assuming that Kikimora takes a decent amount of inspiration from her namesake in a number of ways, the most likely candidate for her parallel that I can see is - as surprising as it may seem - none other than Hooty, aka this goofball:

TLDR: Why I think both Hooty and Kikimora might turn out to be/have been bird-themed deity-like entities supporting their respective rulers, or how the epic kaiju fights were in our houses all along

To explain what I mean, with the major fan theory that King used to be the Titan/an actual king of demons and some of the recent character interactions these last few episodes, I believe that Hooty and Kikimora might be even more similar than just the mythological connotations behind Kikimora’s namesake.

For a long while now, I have been theorizing that Hooty will turn out to be a powerful owl-like spirit or being with a very severe case of power and memory loss, but to be more specific here, I think that Hooty - or the Owl Deity as I’ve taken to calling the being in the owl mural - used to be King’s second in command. 

Here, I think such a revelation would fit well with the kind of misdirection present within The Owl House’s storytelling. After all, for as much as Gus picking Hooty in UW was played as a joke, one must remember that Gus had been looking for THE most interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy person he could get, and it would be just like this show for Hooty to turn out to actually fit that criteria, much like Luz’s “bad girl chosen one” description in WBW being extremely applicable to Amity the next episode. 

In a similar vein, while King immediately shutting down Hooty’s declaration to become his recruit in AitE was a quick and funny joke in the moment, Hooty calling himself King’s “faithful pal” and the bonding moment the two shared after the carnage when King found himself ultimately relying on Hooty’s strength in the end feels to me much like the Owl House writers setting up hints for what kind of dynamics the two might have had in the distant past. 

Now, I know you must be wondering how exactly this would further tie into Kikimora being parallels with Hooty. Well, the thing about that is that I suspect that both of them played a major role in helping their respective rulers come to power a long, long time ago.

Specifically, as two bird-based deities - not necessarily gods or chicken-based ones per se, but incredibly powerful beings that might have been seen as akin to such - that King and Belos turned to for help in different ways.

I admit that this sounds like a pretty major stretch - especially in regards to Kikimora and her three lines of dialogue - but given the multiple posts of evidence-adjacent details I’ve made for Hooty being the Owl Deity, I think this would make the correlations between the two all the more cleaner. 

With King and Hooty, I could see the latter potentially being the former’s first loyal follower and or main enforcer of his will, a reliable friend and powerhouse that King depended on until both of them were overthrown and reduced to the sad state we see them in now. 

And with Belos and Kikimora, I could see the former having been a fresh new recruit in King’s army back then, one who became fed up with his arbitrary demands and impulsive abuses of power - much like Private New Guy in AitE - and called upon Kikimora for her help in staging a mutiny against Hooty and King. Meanwhile, I could also see the latter being themed after a different bird within the world of The Owl House than chickens, potentially even being the basis behind Lilith’s corvid iconography and maybe the wings on Belos’ symbol.

That said, to contrast Hooty and King’s relationship, perhaps Kikimora and Belos’ is more transactional in nature befitting how in some folklore, kikimora - when pleased with the family of the house she resides in - apparently serve as their guardians and can warn her family of impending disaster with her powerful psychic talents, whereas only when she is displeased does her mischief to act up for the residents within. As such, Belos may or may not be doing something to make sure he keeps her favor as an asset to use and keep control over her/to enhance her powers, something which possibly could even be connected to the apparent search for items of eternal youth.

Though just to get this clear, I am NOT saying that Kikimora is the real mastermind behind everything while Belos is a mere figurehead. Rather, I’m suggesting that Belos and Kikimora might be more like business partners in crime compared to the possible past friendship Hooty and King might have had.

Furthermore, to develop Hooty and Kikimora even more as foils of each other, I think it would be rather fitting if the latter was revealed to have been in this picture the whole time as Belos’ castle itself:

After all, I’ve made note before of how the majority of the Owl House looks like it used to be a portion of a large “Owl Temple,” so considering how Hooty is the house itself and how Amity and Luz’s groups are positioned on opposing extremes, it would make sense if Kikimora leaned into the “house spirit” aspect of her inspiration by being Belos’ castle itself - or at least, being able to animate it, that is.

I mean, there IS always the possibility that she will stay closer to her inspirations and be a separate entity from Belos’ castle - aka where she’s still capable of traveling through keyholes and that’s how Kikimora was involved with Belos’ mutiny by sneaking through Hooty’s mouth entranceway - but personally, I think it’d be rather fitting if in a reversal of folklore kikimoras, she was the keyhole of Belos’ castle instead.

After all, if she IS the castle like Hooty is the Owl House and both of them turn out to be deity/bird-like beings, then I predict that we might get to see a clash of the titans somewhere down the line after Hooty regains his former form and memories - potentially even having gotten back the rest of the Owl Temple to more evenly match Kikimora in scale for a battle of epic proportions.

Overall, to summarize, I think Kikimora and Hooty will turn out to be parallels in terms of being powerful bird-themed deity-like entities, being capable of becoming and or already being giant “castle/temple demons,” and being/having been the respective second-in-command of Belos and King. 

As for how they would contrast with the other, it’s too early to tell with how little we know of Kikimora at the moment, but judging from how the other characters between Amity and Luz’s groups parallel each other, it will be rather interesting to see how her personality and motives might serve as a reflection to that of the Owl Deity across the extremes of individualism vs conformity.

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house theory #owl house theory #the owl house hooty #emperor belos #kikimora #theory #speculation #amnesiac owl deity hooty theory #long post #VERY long post #you would not believe how long I've been sitting on this post #man do I hate it when my blog's tagline kicks me in the butt for months on end #anyways I hope you'll enjoy these thoughts and ramblings of mine

[mc-critical]

hey, welcome back! hope your exams and stuff went well, and that you're doing fine now.

i wanted to hear your opinion on nigar hatun. i remember seeing one post of yours in which you said that she wasn't a favourite of yours like you favoured other characters and honestly, same. i didn't really much understand the fascination with her. she was an interesting character, but i can't imagine having her as a favourite when there are so many more characters who are far more interesting. i wish they gave her an alternate arc. idk what it could be, i'd like to hear your opinion on it. one alternative ending i came up for her is that she was extremely angry at ibrahim for toying with her and hatice for keeping her sweet little esmanur from her so she joins hurrem to defeat them? which hurrem did try but it didn't really go anywhere and nigar was against hurrem for killing ibrahim which just was kinda frustrating. they literally give hurrem no ally in the harem [except mihrimah later on but mihri is overall varying in terms of power] so it would be good for her to have some support in the harem from people who actually hated her enemies like her. she had actual political support from iskender celebi, rustem, and ayaz pasha and all, sure, but she didn't have much support in the harem, like all powerful women of the harem were against her. nigar obviously wasn't powerful like a sultan but she was an old member of the harem, was respected and even though she kinda lost her dignity with the scandal, she could've regained it with hurrem's help. sumbul was there later on but he was just a very faithful servant and didn't really have any real motive to harm any of hurrem's enemies except for out of his loyalty whilst nigar could've cultivated a hatred for hatice and ibrahim. this is a basic plot but i would've kinda liked seeing it. there can be many more ways her character could've ended but it would be good seeing a woman who didn't bow to her feelings all the time. the sultanas couldn't really control their feelings when it came to love because they were princesses who were used to getting what they wanted most of the time but nigar was a servant who also suffered the hardships of slavery and it obviously would've made her tougher as a person so she could control her feelings better; idk, i feel like this is an aspect of women they could've explored [or if they did explore it, i don't remember it lol my memory lapses a lot so i don't remember the show 100%] anyway, would like to hear your thoughts on nigar. thank you. welcome back again <3

Thank you! <33 Yup, I'm fine and the exams went well. Happy Pride month to you, too! 🏳️‍🌈

Hehe, I wrote that post years ago and while Nigar still isn't one of my absolute favourite characters, I've warmed up to her quite a bit. And honestly, now with the wider experience in the fandom, I can say that she isn't all that loved as it looks like. I then was under the limited wrong impression that the BG Mamma forum was a metric of all the popular opinions and yes, they loved Nigar a lot and I was sometimes confused as to why, but really, that and the Russian fanbase are the only places I have encountered that appreciate her all that much. There are characters I find more interesting than her, that's for sure, but she has her charm and I'm firmly against people reducing her to "evil" or "manipulative" or "weak after she fell in love with Ibrahim", so forth.

The thing she sets her first impression with is her intelligence caused by her relatively high experience in the harem. The advice she gave to Hürrem opened the path to her whole goal (as she herself acknowledged in E41) and that makes for quite an impact for a more recurring character. Despite of this, I never viewed early Nigar as someone taking an open side, hence I didn't find her supposed betrayal to Hürrem surprising in the slightest: she is also trying to survive in this environment in any way she knows how and she can't really find a fully comfortable position, because she is well aware that everyone is thinking for their own gain in the end. Including her. So the only choice she has left is to direct herself to where the wind is blowing and get advantages for herself once she gets the chance. Because all the experience has taught her to repress her feelings (E10 to Hürrem: "In this castle you can't show weakness."), opt to be the more level-headed person and seek for the more pragmatic solutions.

And yet she is very sensitive and perceptive to people that are different than the others or that are in need and is willing to lend them her hand. She adviced and helped Hürrem because she found potential in her, because she wanted to see her succeed, but not through endangering her own self or other people in the process (she told Hürrem that her game had gone too far again in E41), but through negotiation, compromise and adaption, to know when to start and when to stop and be respectful to those above her, no matter how hard or limiting that may look in Hürrem's eyes. Hürrem had the tendency in viewing every sign of support that came to her as granted, she still had that naive part of innocence in her in S01 and early on was in a desparate need of someone to lean on and unconditionally follow her path, that's why when Nigar diverted from that path, it hurt and took her a while to start trusting her again. But I didn't see Nigar as all that attached to Hürrem as Hürrem herself thought she was, especially with how Nigar became stuck between two sultanas later in S01 and that rendered her lost and more insecure than usual.

That's also why I don't view her as a two-faced or hypocritical double-crosser. Because for the longest time, Nigar was the one character in the series before Rüstem appeared that was clearly thinking about her own benefit and survival first and foremost from the beginning when darting between the powerful people in the harem and was the one well aware that she simply can't cling to a single side in her own position. Positions aren't permanent and can always change in such circumstances, so why can't she take advantage of this? Because who cares as much about the feelings for a Kalfa they can still order around after all? She has faced disregard from Mahidevran, Hürrem, Ibrahim and even Hatice. It is pretty understandable that she's going to seek the best opportunity for herself.

That whole facade breaks when she falls in love with Ibrahim. During rewatch, I found myself to have a soft spot for this character deconstruction, especially in S02. I know that it came to pass because of her falling in love with a man that doesn't share the same feelings and there were moments where it looked like she overdid it, even in S02, but for me, the whole thing nicely added a new layer of depth, while still feeling true to Nigar's character. Her future relationship with Ibrahim had been building up back in S01, when Ibrahim (both inadvertently and not I fully believe) played a part in helping her solve the first internal conflict she had (that is the struggle between the two sultanas). Maybe this didn't mean that much to Ibrahim, maybe he was simply trying to be helpful, but it meant a lot to Nigar - that was probably the first time someone seemed to take her feelings into account and actually listen when she couldn't help, but crack under the pressure. So it is only natural that she would search for this source of comfort once again, being ready to face every risk in the process. When she is appointed to Hatice and Ibrahim's castle, when she's practically left alone with Ibrahim, she decides to take that chance, to taste the forbidden fruit. He gave her something she never received and due to her not allowing herself to show weakness and having to cave to everyone else's demands before that, every ounce of affection Ibrahim shows her, it means the world to her. Thus she begins to idealize what she has with him, to the point of denial and delusion, and centers her loyalty completely on him. But that loyalty never seems to falter.  She began to resent and/or hate everyone who could possibly stand in Ibrahim's way, something she wouldn't have ever done before. She keeps her level-headed self and intelligence (I don't think that this plot line reduced it in any way, not even when she was at her worst.) and she's ready to take any opportunity for herself (case in point: her marriage with Rüstem.), but now her softer sides and her wish for affection are showing all the more.

The problem I have with Nigar's character, writing-wise, and now that I think about it, the main subject of why I didn't get the deal with her back then (along with considering her S01 self bland.. somehow?), is her S03B characterization. While her falling in love with Ibrahim plot-line became an important part of S02 Nigar's storyline, I don't think it overshadowed or dominated over her other characteristics, making for a neat balance of traits and an interesting, nuanced character. In an attempt to keep her for longest time possible in the story, S03B flanderized her in every possible way and overexaggerated her biggest strengths and flaws until they became stale and unbelievable. Her love for Ibrahim read as а near obsession narratively and her opportunism coupled with her will for revenge, which put her into many repetitive intrigues. At one point I even felt she was reduced to a plot-device (the moment Şah Sultan appointed her as a spy) and she felt a little too purposeless and to have totally outstayed her welcome until her last moment in the series.

The root of this problem is again, that they just didn't know when to stop with Nigar. To be brutally honest, she had no long-term role left to play after Ibrahim's death and it was time for the writers to let her go and maintain her generally strong characterization. The ending I would've chosen for her is to simply have Matrakcı give her Esmanur's location and for her to live with her daughter in piece. I know that because of the tonal shift, the show seemed to be already inclined that everyone had to have a tragic ending of sorts, to underline the growing ruthlessness and cruelty of the themes, but I fully believe that Nigar was one of the only characters that were terribly forced through their tragic endings. She didn't need, nor deserve a tragic ending and I doubt it would've been such a problem for the half-season if she didn't get one. I find a happier ending to be perfectly fine for Nigar and I would've loved to see it, if only for a freshness in ideas for character endings. I loved her Esmanur storyline and to witness her finding happiness with her, the only solace she had left, would have been a great wrap up of her S03 plots and an amazing send-off to Nigar's character.

I appreciate the thought you have put into your ending for her and to be fair, your proposal would be much better than anything S03B gave us. It would nearly correspond with the revenge plot of hers they were going for and it would be something more original at the same time. Hürrem's principal lack of allies doesn't bother me as a fact alone, because all her enemies have understandable reasons to be against her, but what bothers me however, is when the writers try using it to dumb her enemies down and make them doom themselves through their own failings or outright use it to put forced (often soapy) conflicts to make the audience sympathize with Hürrem. Or to make everyone "mistitle" her (is that a word? probably not.) or disrespect her on purpose again for sympathy points (that go beyond the part of her motivation that wants to feel respected and does stuff out of fear not to fall under a less favorable position once again.), without changing the status-quo until say, S04.

It is so deliberate it becomes annoying and seeing something else for a change... honestly, gimme! While I personally prefer a happy ending for Nigar, I would live for Nigar and Hürrem to work together again, while keeping what's become her central motivation intact. It may seem a little OOC for Nigar to work for Hürrem by that point, because she's channeled her loss of the most precious people into rage on those that have taken them away, but it would be a decent shifting of gears and a reverence to her opportunism to work to eradicate those she hates for good, even if it means doing so with one of your bigger enemies. After all, after the mission is fulfilled, she could still work against Hürrem in some way, right?

[Tell me if I got what you meant wrongly, but there is an example of a dynasty sultana putting her love feelings behind and by that I mean Şah Sultan. Her love is in the past by the point she arrived in the castle and her love for Ibrahim is only used as a conflict between her and Hatice, which they get over relatively quick. Sisterly love and ambition are a much bigger priority of Şah's: she cared about Hatice past any resentment she may have harbored over the years and agreed to share her life with Lütfi for the advantage this may bring, even though she didn't love him at all. She divorced him only when he offended the pride of a woman and her own personal pride. Other than that, we indeed didn't have a female character in MC that puts her feelings behind in design as far as I recall, only ones that end up clinging to them completely like Nigar here or ones that let go of them eventually like Mahidevran. Characters that have this design by default are more present in MCK like Safiye, or Turhan, or especially Gülbahar, but as I've said many times, MCK is more ruthless, while MC is more about the personal feelings of the characters, hence every motivation they have is somehow tied to them.]

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #nigar kalfa #nigar hatun #ask #mihrimah-sultan-can-rail-me

[thenightling]

Does The Frankenstein Monster have a soul?

    I have seen many strange blog posts and articles recently claiming that Mary Shelley’s creature in the Frankenstein novel does not have a soul.  I believe this does a disservice to Mary Shelley and the intention behind her story.       Before we proceed please note that this is written in the literary context of assuming that within the narrative humans definitely do have souls themselves.       First let is begin with the literal and possibly occult aspects of the Frankenstein Story.  Victor studied the works of Agrippa and Parcelsus in the novel.  Agrippa and Parcelsus were a self-proclaimed sorcerer and alchemist.  Victor was not studying hard science as we know it today, despite what you might see in some Frankenstein movies.   Victor was studying metaphysics and he was still a student when he brought his creature to life.  Many consider Frankenstein to be the first science fiction novel but without the actual description of how he brought his creature to life he could easily be the result of alchemy.   

   At no point does any character in the Frankenstein novel ever refer to The Creature as soulless.  Even Victor, who loathed his creation near the end, never described him as being without a soul. The closest thing to it is when he uses the term “mockery of a human soul” which indicates that what soul The Creature has he sees as an inhuman one.      

     An article from “The Conversationalist” argues that because the eyes are the gateway to the soul that this means The Creature is soulless since his eyes are watery and yellow.  But it is not that The Creature lacks eyes at all. It is that his eyes are different from a human’s.  Watery eyes suggests sad, expressive and tragic.   Eyes are usually watery as a result of deep emotion.   I cannot understand why a description of something often used to convey profound emotion would be used to mean “soulless.”   

     A different Google Search result on the subject of “Does the Frankenstein Monster have a soul” is a teacher’s resource site that claims it would be a good exercise for the class to discuss “Ways in which it is portrayed that The Creature in Frankenstein has no soul.”  But this is, again, pure speculation, and not based on anything of the actual novel.   The essay directly under this described “exercise” talks about how The Creature would not have killed Victor’s loved ones if he had a soul and that a creature with a soul would feel remorse for his actions.

     There are two things wrong with this sample essay.  First, many humans have killed other humans and shown no remorse. That does not mean they do not have a soul.  It means there is something wrong with their conscience.   The second thing the matter with this assumption is at the end of the Frankenstein novel The Creature does show remorse.   He laments the pain and suffering he has caused.   His education had consisted of books that glorified revenge as something noble and righteous and justified such as the actions of both God and Lucifer in John Milton’s Paradise Lost.  And he only learned after the fact that revenge only helped to make him feel more isolated from humanity and actually served to bring him no peace or satisfaction and in fact only helped to make him feel worse than what he already felt.      

  Now onto potentially more subjective content.  

     The Creature, who is well-spoken and articulate in the novel, repeatedly talks about his own soul.   He becomes obsessed with the depictions of Adam and Lucifer in John Milton’s Paradise Lost and is actually a surprisingly spiritual figure. He talks about his own soul frequently and does not seem to have any doubt that he has one.  He also seems quite certain of the fact that he will have an afterlife.  The indication here is simple. If humans have immortal souls that can ascend than logically- as he is capable of the full range of human emotion and thought- so does he.  

     Mary Shelley, herself, has been quoted as calling The Creature a “Poor soul” and “wretched soul” or “a romantic soul” and as she is the author I do not think she chose those wordings lightly.   Note:  I cannot precisely source these quotes at this time but most of what I have written here can easily be found in both the 1818 and 1831 editions of the novel Frankenstein.     

      It is also important to consider that if The Creature was indeed “Soulless” this feels like it would diminish Victor’s accountability for abandoning him, and the world’s fault in rejecting him.  It dampens and potentially ruins the entire idea that you ought to pity The Creature and are supposed to sympathize with him despite the horrible things he has done.  To claim he is without a soul overly exonerates those who have wronged him and immediately dehumanizes him, making the portions of the novel where The Creature tells Victor his own sorrows and experiences practically pointless and creates a barrier between the reader and character.  The ability to sympathize with him is dramatically reduced and I feel this would undermine Mary Shelley’s intentions by dehumanizing him further than Victor already did, and almost justifying mistreatment toward him.            

      It’s an odd thing to me, to see so many comments, articles, and blogs talking about him not having a soul.  I think people forget that in 1818 the soul was usually depicted as a person’s spirit, consciousness that could live on after-death, the part of you that thinks and feels.   Your very awareness.  In the nineteenth century if you could feel emotion and think it was considered a given fact that you have a soul because “You are a soul, you have a body.”   

     It seems that the modern “interpretation” of The Frankenstein Monster being soulless mostly comes from not quite understanding what the nineteenth century described the soul as in most literature.  This wasn’t the TV show Buffy The Vampire Slayer where the soul and conscience are easily confused and interchangeable.  

    It’s peculiar to me that a low budget schlock film like “I, Frankenstein” can explore The Frankenstein Creature’s soul and conscience with more respect for the source material and Mary Shelley than some so-called academics.  Kevin Grevioux is a very underrated writer and his film deserved a better budget and care than what it received.  This is why I like that low budget and cheesy little film.  

     In any event, if you are trying to figure out if The Frankenstein Monster has a soul or not I think it is safe to assume that at least the novel’s author and the character, himself, believed that yes, he does have a soul.   And I hope whoever was trying to figure this out heeds this post before the righteous rantings on the Google results from those whom I suspect might not have actually read the novel or may not have wanted to feel compassion toward The Creature.

___________________

Further note:  Lots of people mistakenly think Frankenstein’s main moral is not to play in God’s domain.  

I do not have patience for those with the assumption that the moral of the novel was "Don't play God." That's the 1931 film, not the novel. The themes of the novel included parental responsibility, the need to forgive, the futility of revenge, and judging by appearance.There are literary professors who have assumed the film was accurate in the novel's moral but thankfully most people who read the book know better. The Creature began benign and gentle and only went evil after several instances of mistreatment.  A third of the novel is there just to tell is this.  If simply creating him was Victor's sin then that diminishes Victor's accountability for how he treated him.  It's also why I don't like film versions where The Creature has an "abnormal brain."  It overly justifies the mistreatment of him and exonerates his creator.   If simply creating him was Victor's sin than we would not have been repeatedly told he would have remained Good if he had not been mistreated. Victor's sin wasn't creating him but how he treated him after he was created.  The "I shouldn't have played God thing"  was the 1931 film, not the novel.  Victor, himself, acts as if merely creating him was his sin but The Creature, and (at times) even Victor admitted that The Creature was once benign and gentle, until the cruelties of others got to him. Finally, "Modern Prometheus." PROMETHEUS! Why do so many people think Prometheus was some sinner who was righteously punished? Does no one know Greek mythology anymore? Prometheus was a Titan and the creator of the human race. In short, he was God. Zeus and the new Gods coveted light. The fire Prometheus stole represented knowledge and the power to invent. He gave humans (his own creatures) this and it pissed off Zeus. He severely punished Prometheus but it was unjust and in later myths he was freed. The great centaur who invented medicine even gave up his immortality as payment to keep Zeus from trying to return Prometheus to his punishment.  Mary Shelley's own husband, Percy Shelley, wrote Prometheus Unbound.

#Kevin Grevioux #Mary Shelley #Frankenstein #Mary Shelley's Frankenstein #I Frankenstein #Does the Frankenstein Monster Have a soul?

[mashounen2003]

Sonic opinions - 2

In large portions of every fandom, it looks like it prevails the idea that you can only take one of two positions: praising the story in every respect, including both the ideas themselves and their execution by the writers, or admitting not to like the story and not to praise any element of it at all. I think my ideas regarding the Archie-Sonic comics and the Sonic franchise in general cannot be pigeonholed into either of these two extremes.

More below the "keep reading" cut.

I loved all the world-building in Archie-Sonic, the elements the comic introduced, their many characters and the potential to tell stories about them; I also really liked much of the art and personal styles of several artists Archie-Sonic has had throughout its history, with very few exceptions (and such exceptions include Ron Lim, of course). That's why, of all the Sonic continuities, I often use the pre-reboot Archie-Sonic comic as the primary source for world-building elements and story ideas.

What really makes me feel bad about that comic, what motivates most of my criticism, is the ideas’ execution by the main writers, as well as aspects that I think are more linked to each writer as a person, the unique way in which each of them has written their stories.

Firstly, Michael Gallagher: the writer for the first few dozen issues of the comic had a terrible sense of humour, and this hurt the comic hugely since those first issues were fundamentally based on that low-quality comedy style. The characterization of the entire cast also suffered greatly from this; in Sally's case, something quite ironic happened too: Gallagher portrayed her as bossy, annoying, temperamental, usually bickering with Sonic, and now that's also how Sally is seen by many fans of the videogames’ continuity (at best). Other than this, not much more could be said about him.

Karl Bollers wrote quite decent stories with some nice comedy, with “Return to Angel Island” being his best work, one of the best stories in the entire comic and perhaps even one of the best in the franchise; but Bollers’s work was "torpedoed" by Ken Penders and then-editor Justin Gabrie, which ruined the stories’ final versions sometimes or led to elements introduced by Bollers being "retconned" and overwritten by whatever Penders smoked and decided to do when taking over. The characterization of Fiona Fox is one of the main examples, with Bollers's Fiona being a quite under-utilized character but with a great potential that would later be wasted by both Penders and Ian Flynn. Another similar case was Sally breaking up with Sonic: Bollers tried to give context to such a drastic decision by Sally and show how she was the one who was suffering the most at that time and also that both she and Sonic were partially right, but Penders and Gabrie didn't let Bollers develop this subplot properly and all we had was a quite infamous scene that unfairly made Sally one of the most hated characters. It’s also known of several plans Bollers had for future stories, and one of them was Antoine being corrupted by the Source of All and turning into a villain; this had the potential to be a good story by subverting the concept of the Source of All and making it an actual threat, but on the other hand, it’d have meant resorting once again to the resource of "this character isn’t doing anything, let's make them evil", something quite disappointing, which later would have disastrous results when Flynn did the same with Fiona a few years later. However, these plans of Bollers were just ideas, and the quality of a story created from them still depends a lot on execution. In the end, I can't say anything about how good or bad Bollers was as a writer, simply because I have no way of knowing what his stories would have been like if he had been given more freedom and had stayed as the writer longer.

There were two writers who influenced Archie-Sonic comics far more than any other writer in its history: Penders and Flynn. The first of them was a retarded pervert with an overly inflated and fragile ego. He became obsessed with the primitive, toxic ideal of "family" North-Americans have. He wrote nonsensical, contradictory stories, having already decided the end down to the last detail long before even thinking about how the story would come to that end (I also made this specific mistake a few times when I was just starting to write fanfiction, I must admit). He increased Fiona's age in order to be able to pair her with the Don Juan that Sonic had become, which also ruined Fiona's characterization forever. The issues 150s -right before being replaced by Flynn- were the worst part of Penders’s run, as Bollers was no longer there to put a stop to his madness in any way, and it was at this time when there was the most egregious case of Penders pouring into the comic his worst perversions and retarded ideas: he hinted at a sex scene in one of the most infamous cases in the history of the entire Sonic franchise, although it wasn’t infamous for the implied sex per se but rather because what happened was technically a rape by deception; to add insult to injury, the writer implicitly blamed the victim some years later when asked about it on Twitter.

I could go on talking about “Ken Perverts”, but I think that's not necessary and would be a waste of time since, as everyone here already knows, he's been the laughingstock of the entire Sonic franchise for years; @ponett even has a whole secondary blog, @thankskenpenders, mainly dedicated to this. On the other hand, there’s still another writer who has also contributed a lot and also made huge mistakes but is not criticized in the least by almost anyone, simply because he was better than Penders.

Ian Flynn usually reduced the characters to slightly oversimplified portrayals, similar to the personalities of the characters in the most recent videogames. Under his pen, Sonic was more sympathetic but his words sometimes sounded too empty and shallow, his apologies for past mistakes didn’t lead to genuine changes on his part, and sometimes he even seemed plain insensitive to all the tragedies happening around him, especially at the Mecha Sally Arc (I nickname Ian Flynn’s Sonic "Plastic Smile" for this). Admittedly, this had already happened several times with previous writers (Penders portraying Sonic as a Don Juan, as I already mentioned), and this is why I think the original Sonic from Sonic SatAM was always better for feeling more "genuine", less "empty", and more heroic and likeable as a result. Perhaps the only ones to escape the oversimplified portrayal have been Shadow and E-123 Omega, whose characterizations in Archie-Sonic were the best in the whole franchise.

Besides, Flynn had strong favouritism for Amy Rose, which only made things worse because this Amy was much more similar to the one in the videogames from Sonic Heroes onwards. Anyway, this also happened with previous writers, like when Amy wished to be younger at the cost of a chance to save Sally's mother and no one ever berated her for it.

Let’s look at the villains. Unlike the typical Eggman from the videogames, with his follies, eccentricities and other absurd aspects, the Robotnik “inherited” by the comic from Sonic SatAM was explicitly a genocidal bastard and crueller while at the same time being sane enough to realize everything he was doing (@robotnik-mun already spoke in detail about this once); however, Flynn tried to combine the two characters into the pre-reboot Archie-Sonic Eggman, and the result created some severe problems with the stories’ tone. Something derived from this was how Sonic let Eggman live and even felt sorry for his fall into madness, in addition to treating him as if they were the Sonic and Eggman from the videogames, Sonic X or Sonic Boom; it’s worth remembering this Eggman technically is a sort of reincarnation of the SatAM Robotnik (his exact nature is quite complicated and includes parallel universes, but yes, he’s supposed to be exactly the same as the SatAM Robotnik, with memories and everything) and this Sonic is supposed to have fought a bloody decade-long guerilla war against him just like his SatAM counterpart.

Scourge was turned into a massive Mary-Sue who achieved easy victories, as subtle as a huge neon sign saying "the bad guys win"; he was also an abusive manipulator towards Fiona Fox, and Flynn was unable to show that properly for fear of making his pet look no longer cool, which makes you wonder how alike Flynn and Penders might actually be in some ways. To clearly understand the horrible damage this has caused: it not only created a generation of young Sonic fans -mostly boys from the USA- who romanticize abuse either consciously or unconsciously, but also there are even women -including scholars, committed feminists and transgender people who are also activists for social justice- who either sympathize with Scourge or think Fiona made a right, wise, rational or informed decision by joining him in the story (I’ll not give names of those women, I’m not really eager to get into heated fallacious discussions about “the true meaning of Feminism”); to top it off, among the writers who started working with Ian Flynn either on IDW-Sonic or the last years of Archie-Sonic, there’s at least one person who got the job of writing official Sonic comics after gaining quite a bit of fame with a fan-comic where they used the pairing of Scourge & Fiona to inspire its readers to feel sorry... for Scourge. And speaking of Fiona specifically: the subplot of her career as a villain was ill-conceived, was built by using as a cornerstone the A-story of Issue #150 (that quite infamous and widely known story written by Penders where Scourge may or may not have raped Bunnie by deception), and was also seemingly "abandoned" as Fiona ended up merely being Scourge's new abuse victim girlfriend and her status as a traitor didn’t even have a significant emotional effect on the Freedom Fighters.

Flynn also followed something like a pattern of taking tropes from famous works and then using them when writing the comic but not actually understanding why those tropes had worked in the first place. Perhaps the prime example of this was Scourge giving Sonic the Joker's "One Bad Day" speech: it almost felt a bit like giving the same speech to the Batman of Batman vs. Superman, as Sonic had already had a whole "bad decade" and was still a hero despite it; also, Sonic's answer to that speech (telling Scourge it only takes a tiny bit of selflessness and decency for him to be a good person) wasn’t that great, not at all compared to the mildly masterful answer Batman had originally given to the Joker in The Killing Joke, and it even made Sonic look more like a bad judge of character.

Lastly, the entire Mecha Sally Arc was poorly planned, had some contradictions with itself and with previous stories, was stretched through dozens of comic issues no matter if that felt forced, and the main events and plot twists throughout the story arc were heavily based on shock-value without giving any substance to this or making it a bit more sense when putting it under scrutiny; meanwhile, Flynn always seemed to have quite a hard time when writing long story arcs, so these long stories looked like he was trying and outright failing to imitate Toriyama (someone quite known for putting together stories ad-lib according to what seemed most convenient at the time).

Despite this, it looks like those Sonic fans who are still interested in material outside of the videogames will keep buying and reading whatever Ian Flynn or one of his colleagues writes, simply because they’re better than Penders... even though it's been 15 years since Penders wrote something official about Sonic. Seriously, we should have gotten over it by now, instead of continuing to compare all material in the franchise with Penders's work, which sets the bar too low for any official content creator. Now that I think about it, Penders's work is to the North-American Sonic canon what Sonic 2006 is to the videogames: people can criticize the latest games all they want, and rightfully so, but if someone even casually mentions Sonic 2006, any Sonic game from 2010 onwards instantly becomes a masterpiece just for being marginally better than Sonic 2006; the same happens between Penders's work on pre-reboot Archie-Sonic and any other North-American Sonic comic written by Flynn after Penders left.

Right now it looks like it's also forbidden to criticize Flynn as a writer at all just because he's much nicer in his personal life and engages with fans more directly through his podcasts, or because Flynn is truly progressive while Penders claimed to be progressive and a feminist and was affiliated with the USA Democrats but his work showed how misogynistic, perverted, retarded, reactionary and downright sick he was. Also, now saying something about Flynn other than total blind admiration for him and his work, even asking for the Freedom Fighters to return in the IDW comics, has become synonymous with agreeing with those assholes who cry "Rally4Sally" or "Udon4Sonic" on Twitter: "nostalgic" fans of SatAM and Penders's work on Archie, in their 40s or 50s, deeply conservative and absurdly paranoid, who claim that those new inclusive cartoons such as Steven Universe or She-Ra "are ruining their childhood", are mad at Flynn just because he hinted Sally and Nicole may be a lesbian couple (and in a rather platonic way, not even romantic in the traditional sense), and try to justify their own warped ideas and fantasies about SatAM by ignoring any “liberal” political messages SatAM may have had at the subtext level.

#sonic fanfiction by mashounen #sonic opinions by mashounen #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #archie sonic #sonic comics #sonic satam #michael gallagher #karl bollers #ken penders #ian flynn

[inviouswriting]

Darkwarden au - Redemption

Finally touching on this one again.

I think it deserves an alternative ending that’s nice. What do you think?

Revived au - For a few more installments.

Featuring @snow-covered-moon​ ‘s Shuri/Anubis along with all of her lovely children.

I will have another installment as I can write them. I have a nice way to end this one.

Kivera had lingered behind instead of leaving on her normal hunt, for other sin eaters and those with higher aether count to keep Anubis safe from those that wish her harm. Kivera paused in her thoughts for the name Anubis, in her world she knew the name of the Egyptian god of death. It was almost fitting, she is serving another god in that sense. 

The reaper’s thoughts drift to her past, how many has she served. From those in charge of her, from Bathory, Gabriel, Hades, Thanatos, Chiron. Her life of servitude never ended. Always the dutiful angel she is. Even if she wasn’t of the heavens, her path was laid before her in that sense. 

Her thoughts are drawn out when a pinged cry hits her head. She knew what it was, and turns on her heels, forgoing finding anything for a meal, instead she approaches in time before Thancred could fire his weapon.

Anubis in a vulnerable state from her hunger. She would never be able to fight back against him. She could but she didn’t “want” to fight. Thancred driven on his own conviction to put her out of her misery. To end someone who was doing no harm to those around her except exist. Power surged in the gunblade and just as it was about to fire, Kivera knocks it to the side with throwing her scythe. The blade fires missing its target, shooting pass her head and into the wall of the well itself.

“What the!” Thancred looks to the weapon that flew pass his head to knock his own. Kivera takes his distraction as opportunity and kicks her toe to the ground to send a ripple through it underneath Thancred’s feet to knock him further off balance.

Kivera flits and stands between Anubis and Thancred. She checks over Anubis quickly, only seeing mild fear in her, and acceptance of what would have been her death. Something she would talk to her later about. Kivera turns her attention onto Thancred who regains himself by now.

“You can’t leave her like this! That is not Shuri, and you know it.” Kivera ignores his words, her eyes going to where Antares landed. 

“Is there anything else you can say?” Kivera turns her back to him in favor of looking over Anubis. Thancred wouldn’t attack the fallen carelessly, he has seen her in action and knows it is suicide to fight her.

“Shuri. I think it is time to leave this place. It’s no longer safe.” Kivera completely disregards Thancred being there. She extends a hand down to where Anubis sits, and a hesitant hand takes hers. Kivera helps her to her feet, being gentle when regarding the darkwarden.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” Kivera murmurs the words Shuri had been wanting to hear for a long time. Home.

“Where do you intend to take her...” Thancred is met with an ruby eyed stare from Kivera. 

“Away from you, where you can’t go.” Her answer is cold, and she would never grant him the permission of going to her world, her domain, her sanctuary. Not when he intends to murder one she loves in cold blood. 

Thancred starts towards them, only for the ground to disappear underneath his feet. 

“Quagmire.”

Like water, the ground felt like water around him. Just as he wanted to climb out, he felt the surrounding get colder as it froze, his attention goes to the foot that was embedded in the ground. He forgot she is a master of elements. Earth is an element. Estinien himself has said the spars he had with the fallen that he could never get pass her tricks when she used earth and water together. 

“Why are you trying so hard to protect her?” Thancred feels the ground around him start to give from his moving around slowly. The ice chilled his core, seeping in faster than Coerthas’ winterlands ever chilled him.

“Why are you so intent on killing her?” Kivera guides Anubis to a gate she had prepared, a wall of ice that was reflective enough as a mirror. A conduit for Kivera, any reflective surface was her door to her world.

“I know her, that she would not want to live like that.”

“So why must it be you then?” Kivera pulls a white feather out of her left wing and uses it as a quill to write something on the surface of the ice. Scrying a door into its surface.

“Because of you, you dispatched anyone I sent after her.” Kivera knocks on the mirror and opens the gate for Anubis, on the other side a familiar hand reaches through from Divinity. 

Anubis had been quiet throughout the exchange, almost tranced from her near death. She recognizes the warmth from Kivera, standing closer to her white wing, the former angel curling it around her to shield her.

“It’s Divinity. She’ll take care of you while I clean up things in this world.” Kivera runs a hand through Anubis’ dark hair cupping her face to rub her face with her own. A show of affection she remembers from her youth as a Xaela. To try and jar her out of what she was feeling. 

Anubis reluctantly takes the hand, and is lead through the mirror to Divinity. As soon as Anubis was through the gate, it shatters as a preventive to keep Thancred from rushing the door.

Kivera now that Shuri was safe, turns her attention onto Thancred fully.

“I will give you one chance to go home. I will not attack you, you can forget all the happened here. You can run back to the townsfolk and tell them that the threat has been eliminated for all I care. She will not harm here or The Source. Leave with Kiya, and go about the threats in the other world.” Kivera walks over to the center of the area where Storge once was. Kivera looked small compared to the expansive nest that use to be the sineaters and darkwardens domain.

“And what happens if I don’t want to leave here?” At these words, Kivera whistles; to Thancred’s left Antares springs from the ground summoned back to Kivera’s hands. She catches her scythe to spin once on her feet holding the blade outward to her side in a way to strike.

“I will end you. And you know how good I am at that.” Kivera looked more sure of herself now that Anubis was safe from certain death. Thancred takes Kivera in, really looking at her. She wore different clothing than what he remembered not the odd attires she wore around them. From the black mage persona or dancer. This was her natural state, even the miqo’te side of her wasn’t there. 

“Are you not taking my offer then? You truly want to see this through to your end?” Kivera reminds him that he has an out. They don’t have to fight, Kivera is as certain of death to him as he would have been to Anubis. 

“What do I tell them... that you ran off with a threat?” Thancred sees her visibly upset at his words. Her eyes narrow, Kivera sighs.

“Someone like you would never understand unless you have been relentlessly persecuted. I take you are dismissing my offer.. don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Kivera taps her feet to the ground to stretch them. Kivera rests her head on one of her hands regarding him.

“Someone has to.” Kivera sighs, as much as she would love to fight with him, there was no point for her to do so. Shuri was safe from him and everyone that could cause her harm wouldn’t not with her secure in her very home.

“I don’t have time for you. Consider yourself lucky... I am being merciful today. I have no interest in fighting you. Go back home before your spirit severs from your body.” Thancred is shocked that she would engage him after trying to actively kill Anubis.

“Why?” Thancred takes a step towards her only to fall through a hole she created, it felt like he was slipping through another dimension itself. Unceremoniously he lands in a heap outside the well. Kivera stands on an abandoned crane away from him. 

Thancred looks up at her, he sees her with her scythe again, and using an ability to reduce the size down to an earring and pins it in her ear. She had no intentions of fighting him. She had already been gone too long from Shuri, and knew Divinity needs explaining as to what was going on from the reaper.

“It’s not your time yet. Your world needs you. I will take care of her from here on. If you somehow find a way into the other realm. May I be merciful on your soul.” Kivera ends her warning with leaving him on the red sand flitting away as if she was never there. The dread sensation Thancred had lifts, he wouldn’t say he cheated death, but simply death didn’t want him.

The darkness still lingered in the air, from the remnants of Anubis’ influence. Thancred wondered if there were others that he overlooked. Perhaps Shuri was not the only corrupted spirit in this world. 

“Kivera... is alot more kind than we give her credit for.” Thancred looks over his shoulder, Ryne. 

“Ryne?” He gets up and sees her fiddle with her hands.

“She’s not evil. She’s just protecting those dear to her. Let’s... let her do her part.” Thancred knew her right, and he’d thank his lucky stars he didn’t die today. The look in Kivera’s eyes meant it if he had harmed Shuri.

“I know... but why did she work so hard when she knew it is hopeless.” Thancred sees Ryne bring a hand to her own face in thought.

“For the same reason I don’t give up on Gaia. Everyone is worth redemption.” Thancred understood after that, that Kivera knows of a way to help Shuri somehow.

“I have been foolish haven’t I?”

“Yes.”

Kivera had secured all of her lingering doors to her world. Shattering certain mirrors that were direct doors. When she arrived back into her domain, she is greeted to the sight of the eternal night sky it already is. Only she can barely see the two moons overhead. Yet here she didn’t worry over Shuri’s well being like she was forced to do in the other two worlds.

She barely recognizes how long it had been till she had been home, as she walked through to the middle, she felt the pings between Shuri and her children. Kivera smiled to herself, there was no fear among them. She had a feeling they wouldn’t fear her, they missed her.

Divinity regards her leader when she comes into view. Getting up to greet her.

“Welcome back. I thought you weren’t going to bring her here until you found a way to break her out of this.” Kivera pulls Divinity more towards the house in the middle. 

“I was put in a position where I had to bring her here. Thancred was after her again, and he meant to kill her this time. Caught her at her most vulnerable, and when I was just leaving.” Kivera explains, Divinity understands it. It was a better move for Shuri, Kivera’s own home was brimming with life energy. Just breathing was enough to fill and satisfy the darkwarden’s needs.

Ysayle was confused to why her mother looked different, but did not fear her. In fact was content in her arms while her siblings clung to her after being away for so long. Divinity regards Kivera, a look between them both. The Libra spirit sees her relaxed with all of them out of danger.

“How do you intend we help her though?” Divinity asks the question that Kivera is unsure how to answer.

“Keeping her safe for starters.. The young ones are unaffected it seems, that is a good thing. She is still in there, bringing her to them was a good idea. She’s mostly composed of dark aether, the way we can counter that is of course with light.” Divinity closes her eyes, she wondered if her ability would be enough.

“I can try with mine.” Kivera’s eyes flicker blue brief then back to green. Divinity had a feeling about the abilities.

“It can’t be done carelessly, otherwise we could accidentally kill her, or alter enough to where she loses her humanity.” Divinity sighs, she knew. Kivera was best when it came to elemental differences, her entire life in training was spent learning and honing each element. Even her own weakness in holy. Enough to not be affected unless she prolonged using it. 

“We’ll just let her be for now, till we figure something out then.. Does Estinien know you brought her here yet? He might want to see her. As she is now or not.” Kivera didn’t have time to send the dragoon a message.

“I’ll go see him, and bring him here then.” Kivera muses aloud, her fingers finding the end of her left wing to pull a few white feathers off. New wards for her charges.

Kivera approaches the group of children and Anubis. Anubis greets Kivera, her dark figure sees the feathers in her hand. Enough for all of the children, a single black one for Anubis.

“What are those for?”

“Protection. Just like the first feathers I gave you. They’ll let me know if something is wrong.” Kivera kneels down and meets Anubis pressing forehead with hers. She felt tears, Shuri surfaced.

“Thank you.. for not killing him.” Kivera’s eyes widen and she tilts her head enough only to feel a full kiss pressed to her cheek. 

“You’re welcome..” The fallen feels a hand press on her white feathers. She doesn’t shrug Shuri’s hand off even if it felt like they were burning under her hand. Kivera gently takes her hand to lace their fingers together, prevent her from burning them further on the only holy thing about herself. 

Shuri looks at her for removing her hand.

“You’ll burn yourself...” 

“Does it hurt you too?” Kivera lifts her eyes, purple are her eyes. Hiding her pain behind her love.

“A little, but please, it means there is a way to counter. Give me more time. I kept my promise that you would be back with your family after all.” Kivera winds her arms around Shuri, pressing a palm to the middle of her back and rubs along her spine. 

“I’m sorry.. I know you kept your promise. Thank you.. I missed them. I missed everyone.. When can I see Estinien?” There is a sense of need in her voice, and Kivera feels it. Green eyes close.

“I’ll bring him here soon. I have to locate him, but I had to check on you and home here.” Kivera cups Shuri’s face using very trace amount of light in her palms. Using her thumbs she rubs Shuri’s face to test something, seeing pink almost white flesh underneath her palms. 

“Does this hurt?” Shuri thinks of the warmth on her face, a tingling where the reaper’s hands touch.

“Itches more than hurts.” Kivera stops the magic after clearing her face of the dark almost pitch black tones.

“I might have a lead then. I’ll return with Estinien soon. Be patient for us?” Kivera asks, and Shuri nods. A small kiss placed on her face, she returns it as Kivera stands up after placing a feather on each child and Shuri.

“I trust you.” Shuri says.

Kivera feels her soul alight.

“I love you too.”

#kivera x shuri #Kivera Siverstein #shuri fontaye #estinien wyrmblood #darkwarden au #I almost wrote a fight in here but... it didn't work out

[darkpoisonouslove]

@supersonichero1 asked:

if you were to write the trix' fight scenes for the show post season 3 how would you show their powers further developing and them having complete mastery of them. With them having been seniors in cloud tower in the first season and subsequently working with pretty much every high ranking villain since and receiving power ups and then losing them do you think they trained enough to make up the power difference in losing all their forms like gloomix, disenchantix, dark sirenix etc. Basically is their regular witch form through training making up the difference? Because they have unfortunately lost all their power ups once the villain that granted them were defeated. In season five tritanus actually blasts the trix 3 times: once to grant them access to their powers again because while they still had them they were blocked as they were in underwater jail (which if you think about it is a really messed up way to punish someone because they were surviving underwater through their own magic because their signature colors and auras were active making me believe that the guards for this prison somehow figured out a way to block a magical person from using any offensive and defensive part of their powers while allowing prisoners to still use and feel their magic but only to breath underwater which would also probably constantly drain them of magic if they have to focus on channeling limited magic just to not drown). The second blast from tritanus was to strengthen the trix base magic so it was a power up without a costume change and the third and last blast was to give them dark sirenix. However they do still have access to their dark witch forms from season 6 because they gave themselves that. (Regarding season 6 transformation I absolutely live their glow up clothes wise and also that no one can take this power away from them)

I’m gonna start this backwards because it will be easier that way.

I think that they not only still have the season 6 “transformation” that they gave themselves but also their dark Sirenix because that was never taken away from them either. They still had it in 6x01 even though Tritannus was gone (twice if you count the third movie) and I think that can only be taken away from them if it gets sucked out like Tritannus did with Daphne. However, since their season 6 form is more powerful, they just keep using that.

I noticed the thing about the underwater prison as well. It was my first thought when I saw them underwater that it’s kinda fucked up that they are imprisoned where they need to use their magic non-stop in order to just be able to breathe. But then they said that they don’t have their powers anymore and I was just absolutely baffled. Like... how?????? So I have two possible explanations for that. Either everyone that gets imprisoned is put under a spell that allows them to breathe underwater (Layla has that one) but that doesn’t make much sense because what is the source of that spell? And besides, I highly doubt anyone would bother. Also, in order to be a threat big enough to be imprisoned there, it is highly likely that you have your own magic so it is much more probable for them to be using their own magic to breathe. Which, like you said, means that their ability to use attack spells was taken away in order for them to be unable to escape but they were still left something to allow them to breathe underwater. That and the color of their magical auras suggests that it is their own magic that keeps them breathing. And yes, I think that that would be draining aka they probably have their magic reduced to the bare minimum so that all they have left is exhausted in the spell for breathing and they can’t do anything else. That is very fucked up indeed since what happens if their magic fails for whatever reason? They’re gonna die. But it doesn’t look like anyone gives a damn about that because they’re evil.

Regarding the power-ups, I don’t believe that they put that much effort into developing them themselves post season 1. They simply didn’t have the time. At the end of season 1 they were imprisoned in Light Rock where they didn’t have magic. Darkar instantly gave them Gloomix when he freed them and they had that for all of season 2 until it disappeared between seasons two and three (it was still on the MegaTrix after Darkar was destroyed and Realix started falling apart so it was probably removed by an outside force once they were collected from there to be sent to Omega). Valtor was shown to boost them but only enough for it to be helpful to his plans. There must have been some development in season 3 because they were trying to impress him and Icy noted that Stormy has improved her abilities to open portals. So perhaps they did some developing for their powers back then. Then Disenchantix was an actual joke that lasted for 2 minutes tops. After that they were sent back to Light Rock in 3x25 which means their powers were taken away again. I believe the Ancestral Witches freed them from there because they needed them to conduct their plan. That was when they might have again had the time and chance to develop their powers, which I believe that they did because they knew Winx were stronger with Enchantix (even if they didn’t know about Believix) and I doubt that the Ancestral Witches could or would give them a boost. So they must have developed their powers back then because they were almost holding their own against Winx at the beginning of Magical Adventure and it was 5 against 2. They must have boosted their powers and, like I said, I doubt that that could have possibly come from the Ancestral Witches. After their defeat at the end of the second movie, however, they were sent to the underwater prison where they were stripped of their powers and that I believe really set them back a lot when it comes to power level because it happened immediately after they were possessed by the Ancestral Witches, which I think weakened them in another way as well. And then they got their power boosts from Tritannus which leads us to their own power-up in season 6. So I don’t believe that they really had that much time to develop their own magic except for those moments in season 3 and between the first and the second movie. However, that seemed to have been undone by the time season 5 started either way.

As to how I would write their fights, I would actually make them rely more on strategy. Post season 3 it has become clear that they are at a disadvantage towards Winx because they always lose. So instead of trying to power through so that they can overcome the Winx in the power of their magic, I would have them develop a different approach to their fights. I would have them studying their past battles against Winx so that they can figure out where they fail and where the Winx succeed and adapt a scheme on how to increase their own efficiency while decreasing the Winx’. They are basically made to charge at Winx like mindless bulls instead of actually trying to figure out a way in which to beat them after it has become that the power advantage lies with Winx and that is just ridiculous. They know better than that. Or at least the first three seasons of their selves would know better than that since seasons 5 and 6 Trix just keep doing the same thing and expecting different results (aka the definition of madness according to Einstein). Also, I would have tried to come up with a more diverse ways for them to use their powers. In that regard season 5 was actually pretty good to Darcy especially and Icy (not so much to Stormy). They got new powers that looked cool and weren’t the generic beams and blasts. I loved that and wish the writers would have tried to be more creative with their powers. Those are the two major principles on which the battles between Winx and the Trix are built and that is where they fail. So touching that up a little and mixing things up could have made for more interesting and original fights with higher stakes when they are based on personal approach against any and all Winx girls.

#winx club #winx icy #winx darcy #winx stormy #trix #ask #supersonichero1 #meta #winx club meta #winx meta

[itsclydebitches]

It might be the 2020 talking here, but the Mantle citizens being oppressed feels less like the fascism claim that gets thrown around and more like anti maskers angry at not being allowed to go outside and get eaten by grimm in retrospect. Power outage? I'll just go outside where I know the grimm are while in a bad mood instead of my home that has insulation, barricades, and/or a fireplace. Nothing can go wrong with that idea. Destroy those anti grimm robots too! We won't need those in a minute!

The issue with those “This is a fascism/police brutality allegory” arguments (despite the fact that it’s pretty clear RT wants that to be the interpretation. Here I’m talking about what we actually get on screen, not what the authors my have intended to create) is twofold: 

1. They fail to acknowledge the grimm as an objective, immediate, 100% indisputable threat that if not addressed will lead to the killing/eating of the populace. Unlike the various bigoted complexities surrounding the claim that other people are a threat to the populace in our real world, the grimm have no ethical questions attached to either the danger they present or how they should be dealt with. They will kill you. You should shoot them. That’s that. RWBY’s grimm have not been constructed as representations of misunderstood minorities/outsiders—they’re literal monsters and thus any precautions taken to keep them from attacking you is weighted towards being a good thing. (The caveat: Provided any technologies created in the pursuit of safety are not so deadly that they pose a threat to the people if they fall into the wrong hands which, as we’ve seen in RWBY’s story, is something Salem managed beautifully. There are ethical questions attached to when the “This may pose a threat later” outweighs “But it’s helpful right now,” but that’s not the issue we’re covering today. This is a “Yes there are grimm and yes you should take extreme measures to protect yourself because they are 1000% a deadly threat” acknowledgement).    

2. They fail to acknowledge that RWBY hasn’t done the work of showing how these measures are hurting the people. The embargo hurts them economically, absolutely, but that’s a separate issue from the military control Ironwood keeps over the kingdom in response to the grimm/Salem — the presumed oppression we’re discussing. When we talk about that kind of control in real life we acknowledge the very real repercussions it has, everything from “The armed forces in our streets resorted to shooting at us when we peacefully protested their presence” to “The armed forces in the streets deny us basic human rights.” In the real world measures like these are a threat, but we see none of this in RWBY. Are Ironwood’s forces maliciously attacking people without cause, demonstrating that their protection may not be worth the harm they cause? No. We just see them doing their job of fighting grimm, allowing civilians to escape in the process. Are they denying the people their right to go about their lives peacefully? No. The people we see are not hindered by these safety measures. There are only two details I can think of to potentially support this: the bot that takes pictures of the group without their consent (which in 2020 would work better as a commentary on big corporations/privacy concerns in the digital age) and the fact that the people aren’t allowed to go out late at night... but that just circles right back around to Point #1: there are monsters out on those streets that want to kill you. Things like RWBY’s curfew aren’t implemented as a way of hindering protesters and silencing people—as they have been in the real world—but as a very basic “It’s harder to keep you alive at night so please stay in your homes to not get eaten.” 

So though I’m always wary of drawing perfect 1:1 comparisons between the text and a real event (as you say, anon, there’s some 2020 feelings attached to all this lol)... yeah, I’d agree that how the show presents this conflict is much closer to our current Covid situation: 

Government: You’re not allowed outside right now, you need to wear a mask, there’s no travel, no gatherings larger than ten people 

People: You can’t do that! This is an infringement on my rights! You’re trying to keep me docile and complacent... can’t everyone see what’s happening? The government is trying to tell us what to do. Every modern action movie has taught you that’s automatically a bad, scary thing! 

Government: No I’m... trying to keep you from spreading/catching a deadly virus, which can only happen if everyone obeys some — at times very tough — but still necessary rules. This is logic you should have learned in kindergarten. Everyone needs to work together and clean up the play area, even if they don’t want to, so that someone doesn’t trip over a toy. Except now ‘Oops I’ve tripped’ is ‘Oops I’m dead/in need of a transplant/chronically ill for an undetermined length of time.’” 

People: This is anarchy 

Government: It’s really not. It’s just a shitty situation that you’re refusing to help make better

Fans who reduce Volume 7 to “Ironwood is evil for making Mantle do things they obviously hate” fundamentally don’t understand—or simply refuse to acknowledge—the kind of threat these characters face. It’s indeed similar to looking at something like this 

(Source) 

and insisting on interpreting it as a poor woman being tortured under the laws of her government. “Military in the streets” has downsides attached to it (even if RWBY fails to accurately show them) in a similar way to how “Getting a swab stuffed up into what feels like your brain” has downsides too... but those downsides have to be weighed against the reason for these procedures existing in the first place: grimm and Covid. 

Oh. These downsides are better than dying. 

There’s nothing wrong with continually striving to lessen those downsides, as well as continually questioning authority in an effort to ensure that the power they hold isn’t abused... but we can’t let those fears blind us to the fact that sometimes horrible events require less than stellar solutions. At least for a time. The entire point here is the reasons behind why these actions were taken and whether their implementation remains necessary. An army among civilians due to racism and corrupt officials is not comparable to an army among civilians due to a continuous attack by literal monsters. An army that remains long after it’s necessary is not comparable to an army used during the height of a fantasy war. The ill-considered argument of “The Mantle people are oppressed because they are forced to live alongside robots and they don’t like it” does indeed have similarities with something like, “The people are oppressed because they are forced to wear masks and they don’t like it.” In both cases the consequences of obeying these orders (as shown in RWBY) are incredibly minimal and the benefit provided is staggering. It admittedly doesn’t help that Ironwood’s presumed oppression of Mantle is conflated with the severe class disparity and racism — things that are embedded into Atlas’ history and are mostly outside of his control— but the overall takeaway is that the knee-jerk response of “You can’t tell me what to do” should never outweigh the initial questions of, “Why do you want me to do this? What are the downsides of doing this? And are they worse than the repercussions attached to not doing this?” In the case of both “Trying to protect civilians from endless grimm/a magically powered queen” and “Trying to protect people from a truly horrifying virus,” these questions have some very compelling answers. 

Basically, 

#rwby #politics #US politics #covid #mymetas #Anonymous

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/7/2020

I missed THE GOLDEN GLOVE at Fantastic Fest last year. It was one of my only regrets of the whole experience, but it was basically mandatory since the available screenings were opposite the much-hyped PARASITE. As annoying as that sounds, it was actually a major compliment, since what could possibly serve as a consolation prize for the most hotly anticipated movie of the year? Needless to say, I heard great things, but I could never have imagined what it was actually like. I'm still wrapping my mind around it.

Between 1970 and 1975, an exceptionally depraved serial killer named Fritz Honka murdered at least four prostitutes in Hamburg's red light district. Today, we tend to think of the archetypal serial killer in terms of ironic contradictions: The public is attracted by Ted Bundy's dashing looks and suave manner, and John Wayne Gayce's dual careers as politician and party clown. Lacking anything so remarkable, we associate psychopathy with Norman Bates' boy-next-door charm, and repeat "It's always the quiet ones" with a smirk whenever a new Jeffrey Dahmer or Dennis Nilsen is exposed to the public. The popular conception of a bloodthirsty maniac is not the fairytale monster of yore, but a wolf in sheep's clothing, whose hygienic appearance and lifestyle belie his twisted desires. In our post-everything world, the ironic surprise has become the rule. In this light, THE GOLDEN GLOVE represents a refreshing return to naked truth.

To say that writer-director Fatih Akin's version of the Fritz Honka story is shocking, repulsive, and utterly degenerated would be a gross understatement. We first meet the killer frantically trying to dispose of a corpse in his filthy flat, wallpapered with porno pinups, strewn with broken toys, and virtually projecting smell lines off of the screen. One's sense of embodiment is oppressive, even claustrophobic, as the petite Honka tries and fails to collapse the full dead weight of a human corpse into a garbage bag, before giving up and dismembering it, with nearly equal difficulty. The scene is appalling, utterly debased, and yet nothing is as shocking as the killer's visage. When he finally turns to look into the camera, it's hard to believe he's even human: the rolling glass eye, the smashed and inflated nose, the tombstone teeth and cratered skin, are almost too extreme to bear. Actually, suffering from a touch of facial blindness, I had to stare intently at Honka's face for nearly half the movie before I could fully convince myself that I was, in fact, looking at an elaborate prosthetic operation used to transform 23 year old boy band candidate Jonas Dassler into the disfigured 35 year old serial murderer.

Though West Germany remained on a steady economic upturn beginning in the 1950s and throughout the 1970s, you wouldn't know it from THE GOLDEN GLOVE. If Honka's outsides match his insides, they are further matched by his stomping grounds in the Reeperbahn, a dirty, violent, booze-soaked repository for the dregs of humanity. Though its denizens may come from different walks of life, one thing is certain: Whoever winds up there, belongs there. Honka was the child of a communist and grew up in a concentration camp, yet he swills vodka side by side with an ex-SS officer, among other societal rejects, in a crumbling dive called The Golden Glove. The scene is an excellent source of hopeless prostitutes at the end of their career, who are Honka's prime victims, as he is too frightful-looking to ensnare an attractive young girl. These pitiful women all display a peculiarly hypnotic willingness to go along with Honka, no matter how sadistic he becomes; this seems to have less to do with money, which rarely comes up, and more to do with their shared awareness that for them, and for Honka too, it's been all over, for a long time.

Not to reduce someone’s performance to their physical appearance, but ???

To call Dassler's portrayal of Honka "sympathetic" would be a bridge too far, but it is undeniably compelling. He supports the startling impact of his facial prostheses with a performance of rare intensity, a full-body transformation into a person in so much pain that a normal life will never become an option. His physical vocabulary reminded me of the stage version of The Elephant Man, in which the lead actor wears no makeup, but conveys John Merrick's deformities using his body alone. Although there is an abundance of makeup in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, Dassler's silhouette and agonized movements would be recognizable from a mile away. In spite of his near-constant screaming rage, the actor manages to craft a rich and convincing persona. During a chapter in which Honka experiments with sobriety, we find a stunning image of him hunched in the corner of his ordinarily chaotic flat, now deathly still, his eyes gazing at nothing as cigarette smoke seeps from his pores, having no idea what to do with himself when he isn't in a rolling alcoholic rampage. The moment is brief but haunting in its contrast to the rest of the film, having everything to do with Dassler's quietly vibrating anxiety.

Performances are roundly excellent here, not that least of which are from Honka's victims. The cast of middle-aged actresses looking their most disastrous is hugely responsible for the film's impact. These are the kinds of performances people call "brave", which is a euphemism for making audiences uncomfortable with an uncompromising presentation of one's own self, unvarnished by any masturbatory solicitation. Among these women is Margarete Tiesel, herself no stranger to difficult cinema: She was the star of 2012's PARADISE: LOVE, a harrowing drama about a woman who copes with her midlife crisis by pursuing sex tourism in Kenya. Her brilliant, instinctive performance as one of Honka's only survivors--though she nearly meets a fate worse than death--makes her the leading lady of a movie that was never meant to have one.

So, what does all this unpleasantness add up to, you might be asking? It's hard to say. THE GOLDEN GLOVE is a film of enormous power, but it can be difficult to explain what the point of it is, in a world where most people feel that the purpose of art is to produce some form of pleasure. This is the challenge faced by difficult movies throughout history, like THE GOLDEN GLOVE's obvious ancestors, HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER, MANIAC and THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE. Describing unremitting cruelty with relentless realism is not considered a worthy endeavor by many, even if there is real artistry in your execution; some people will even mistake you for advocating and enjoying violence and despair, as we live in a world where huge amount of movie and TV production is devoted to aspirational subjects. (The fact that people won't turn away from the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies, no matter how monotonous and condescending they become, should tell you something) How do you justify to such people, that you want to make or see work that portrays ugliness and evil with as much commitment as other movies seek to portray love, beauty, and family values? Why isn't it enough to say that these things exist, and their existence alone makes them worth contemplation?

A rare, perhaps exclusive “beautiful image” in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, from Fritz Honka’s absurd fantasies.

You may detect that I have attempted to have this frustrating conversation with many people, strangers, enemies, and friends I love and respect. I find that for some, it is simply too hard to divorce themselves from the pleasure principle. I don't say this to demean them; some hold the philosophy that art be reserved for beauty, and others have a more literary feeling that it's ok to show characters in grim circumstances, as long as the ultimate goal is to uplift the human spirit. Even I draw the line somewhere; I appreciate the punk rebellion of Troma movies as a cultural force, but I do not enjoy watching them, because I dislike what I perceive as contempt for the audience and the aestheticization of laziness--making something shitty more or less on purpose. A step or three up from that, you land in Todd Solondz territory, where you find materially gorgeous movies whose explicit statement is that our collective reverence for a quality called "humanity" is based on nothing. I like some of those movies, and sometimes I even like them when I don't like them, because I'm entranced by Solondz's technical proficiency...and maybe, deep down, I'm not completely convinced about "humanity", either. However, I don't fight very hard in arguments about him; I understand the objections. Still, I've been surprised by peers who I think of as bright and tasteful, who absolutely hated movies I thought were unassailable, like OLDBOY and WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN. In both cases, the ultimate objection was that they accuse humans of being pretentious and self-deceptive, aspiring to heroism or bemoaning their victimhood while wallowing in their own cowardice and perversity. Ok, I get it...but, not really. Why isn't it ever wholly acceptable to discuss, honestly, what we do not like about ourselves?

The beguiling thing about THE GOLDEN GLOVE is that, although it is instantly horrifying, is it also an impeccable production. The director can't help showing you crime scene photos during the ending credits, and I can't really blame him, when his crew worked so hard to bring us a vision of Fritz Honka's world that approaches virtual reality. But it isn't just slavishly realistic; it is vivid, immersive, an experience of total sensory overload. Not a square inch of this movie has been left to chance, and the product of all this graceful control is totally spellbinding. I started to think to myself that, when you've achieved this level of artifice, what really differentiates a movie like THE GOLDEN GLOVE from something like THE RED SHOES? I mean, aside from their obvious narrative differences. Both films plunge the viewer into a world that is complete beyond imagination, crafted with a rigor and sincerity that is rarely paralleled. And, I will dare to say, both films penetrate to the depths of the human soul. What Fatih Akin finds there is not the same as what Powell and Pressburger found, of course, but I don't think that makes it any less real. Akin's film is adapted from a novel by Heinz Strunk, and apparently, some critics have accused Akin of leaving behind the depth and nuance of the book, to focus instead on all that is gruesome about it. This may be true, on some level; I wouldn't know. For now, I can only insist that on watching THE GOLDEN GLOVE, for all its grotesquerie, I still got the message.

#blogtober #2020 #the golden glove #fatih akın #heinz stronk #jonas dassler #margarete tiesel #difficult cinema #horror #slasher #serial killer #period piece #adaptation #historical #biopic #fritz honka #i may have been watching a lot of powell and pressburger movies recently #sorry...

[thehierophage]

Bruno and the Occult Attack of Politicians

Since Lord Dampnut's ascension to the presidency there has been no shortage of witches, sorcerers, and enchanters working to try to bind, curse, or hex him. As a somewhat amusing side effect of this cultural phenomenon we've been able to see David Griffin of the Golden Dawn(R) wax like a tin-foil hat wearing kook decrying this evil and malignant magical warfare against our nation's Holy King. The purpose of this essay is to lay out why these efforts aren't really working. I'm putting this out there not to discourage your magical operations, but to make sure they are more effective.

The primary work I'll be referring to in this discussion is “On Magic” (De Magia) by the great Renaissance thinker and magician, Giordano Bruno. In this work he details the conditions required for establishing the necessary magical bonds whereby a magician would be able to manipulate and control a spirit/spirit-embodied person.

The first two bonds are considered to be comprised of a type of “triple power” which demands the utmost attention before any of the other bonds can be considered. That is, the first two bonds are each composed of three elements a piece which make up their effectiveness as a bond and which must be attended to if any magical operation is to be successful (outside of luck or grace). Here are the first two:

1. The first bond which ties spirits together is general in character and is represented metaphorically by the three-headed Cerberus of Trivia, the doorkeeper of hell. This is the triple power which is needed by one who binds, i.e., by the magician: namely, physics, mathematics and metaphysics. The first is the base; the second is the scale; the third is the summit of the scale. The first explains active and passive principles in general; the second explains times, places and numbers; the third explains universal principles and causes. This is a triple cord which is difficult to break.

2. The second bond is also triple and is needed in the agent, in the action and in the thing on which the agent acts. It consists of faith or credibility, of invocations, of love and of strong emotions in the application of the active to the passive. The role of the soul is to produce changes in the body of the composite, and the role of the body is to change the soul materially. If these bondings do not happen, or especially if they are not present, then no amount of attention or motion or agitation will produce any results. For a magician is most fortunate if many believe in him, and if he commands great persuasion.

So in the first instance, the magician is expected to have an understanding of the nature of the thing being worked upon (physics), an understanding of the symbols being used to create that change (mathematics), and an understanding of the philosophical theories which by necessity must contain the first two (metaphysics), and these three are considered to be the first and most important of magical bonds.

I would venture to say that sorcerers working against the current administration by and large are probably a pretty savvy bunch, or at least sophisticated enough to understand at least one thread of this triple cord (i.e., the “mathematic”). There's also a good number of magicians out there that have a decent understanding of the metaphysics of their given magical systems as well as the sets of correspondences which they use in any given magical operation. Where many may be lacking is in understanding the subject which they wish to change/affect, and this proves to be the lynchpin to the observable failures of the magical operations up to this point. Because unless all three of these cords are being put into use this most critical and primary of bonds will not take.

The second link in establishing the magical link extends its scope to not just the magician, but the magician, the target, and the operation being performed. Bruno says that the knowledge and understanding which is the core of the first bond is not sufficient in and of itself, but requires a real intense passion in the execution of the operation. In fact it requires a type of furore (a la Ficino) or Platonic mania in the magician to produce the necessary non-ordinary consciousness which will allow the magician to summon forth the necessary force for or against the target. What he doesn't mention explicitly until later is that the potency of the invocation must be something that would also move the target to feel that they are a passive recipient of the force being invoked. Simply put, it doesn't matter how passionate your petition is or how adroitly you handle your magical tools – if Lord Dampnut isn't the type of guy who is impressed by or fears such actions, then your ministrations will not produce a strong magical bond.

Bruno says of this later on in the same work chapter on the bondings of spirits:

“For actions actually to occur in the world, three conditions are required: (1) an active power in the agent; (2) a passive power or disposition in a subject or patient, which is an aptitude in it not to resist or to render the action impossible (which reduces to one phrase, namely, the potency of matter); and (3) an appropriate application, which is subject to the circumstances of time, place and other conditions.”

So not only must you 1) know your magical system really well (#3), be super passionate and precise in your working of that system (#1), but the subject/target of your work must not be resistant to being affected by the system or its operator (#2). Obviously it's in this last point that the process unravels.  

Bruno continues: 

“In the absence of these three conditions, all actions are, simply speaking, always blocked. For even if a flute player is perfect, he is blocked by a broken flute, and the application of the former to the latter is useless. Thus, a lack of power in the matter makes an agent impotent and an application unfitting. This is what was meant when we said that an absence of these three conditions, strictly speaking, always blocks an action.

“Closer examination may show that the defect is due to only two, or even only one, of these conditions. But a defect in any one of them should be understood as meaning a defect in all three, as when the flute player and his performance are perfect but the flute is defective, or when the player and the flute are perfect but the performance is interrupted. If the whole meaning of efficient action is taken to consist in the application, then the first condition merges with the third, for the agent is nothing other than the applicator, and to do something is nothing other than to apply something.”

To complicate matters Bruno throws out this interesting tidbit in his list of the types of magical bonds:

“7. The souls of men who are tyrants and rulers, and of those who have acquired some degree of fame and thus have become spirits.”

Now this could refer to the souls of these figures after they've died when they move from being a personality to becoming a principle – a kind of euhemerism where the minutia of the person is stripped away and the image becomes the receptacle and embodiment of  specific values as in the case of patron saints.

Another, more sophisticated reading of this note may entail that the powerful and famous generate their own spirits of themselves which consist of their public image and the conceptions of themselves created and broadcast by the media. If this latter explanation is valid, then any magical work put against a media figure of some notoriety would affect possibly only the fame-generated spectre of the person and not the actual target. Only through continuous chipping away at the public persona would the source of that spirit begin to be affected.

In the case of the current example - their nature as a thin-skinned slave to their own media representation seemingly should assist media-savvy sorcerers in creating hexes which would damage the spirit proxy. This damage would then impact the host generating the spirit.

So what would a successful magical operation against this monster look like? The key here I think would be a two-fold coordination between those assaulting his public image (i.e., the spirit generated by it) and individuals working on the target directly. Both parties would have to be extremely well-trained, polished operators in order to dismantle such a juggernaut.

The first would tactically release imagery and stories meant to lure in those who have fallen under the spell of his spirit while also dismantling the spirit's ability to rally those same people to it by showing the spirit and its host as undesirable, insane, impotent, and working against their ability to enjoy themselves. This has become increasingly difficult to do as audiences have become hypersensitive to absolutely anything that has a whiff of being oppositional to their Fearless Leader. When faced with reasonable questions concerning the spirit's intentions its followers often respond simply by  falling into a paroxysm of anger leveling accusations of unpatriotic behavior until the accuser has been shouted down. As a result these victims rally around a continuously fine-tuned stream of media from sources that provide them material which reinforces their position while also coordinating this spirit's magical force thus amplifying the problem. Frighteningly, one of the only ways to dismantle the power of this spirit's sway over its servants is to show it as being the thing that they hate and positing an even more insane alternative.

The second group of magicians would have to contend with finding and fixing those weak bonds discussed above. But who would turn a man like that into a passive recipient of the magical influence invoked by the magician? The answer, most likely, would be women. His love life has been very public and it would take no talent at all to figure out what his “type” is. A well-trained sorceress could then make him receptive to her charms (perhaps by feeding him her menstrual blood or powdered hair), receive personal effects from him by which to bind him, and be able to use these in conjunction with a burgeoning relationship with the target. Since the subject's natal chart is available and well-known this sorceress would be able to calculate the name of his Wicked Spirit, create specialized invocations triggering his already poorly placed malefics, and/or calculate the Lot of Death or Misfortune to divine when certain actions would need to be executed.

( Donhole by Blacky)

The above scenarios are a description of the type of work that would most likely have to be done to magically bring down a man with that kind of power. Anything less would probably fail or only be successful as a stroke of luck or through grace. I still recommend that magicians continue to do the work they're currently doing though. Not because I feel it will succeed in removing this monster from office, but because it accomplishes a continual regicide within the mind of the operator. There is one throne within the palace of the mind and it should either be filled by you or left conspicuously empty. Sic Semper Tyrannis.

#Giordano Bruno #Magick #Occult

[libraribear]

2020 in Review

2020 is in the books. What a year. It seems a given that through life, some years will be good and some years will be bad, and for many 2020 was one of the bad ones. Globally, it feels like it was the worst year ever. Personally, I can’t go that far. So many people have it worse than I do, and I’m leery of writing this post because I don’t want to sound unsympathetic as I count my blessings (before going into the undeniably shitty, but FAR LESS shitty things than what some other people are going through).

Nonetheless, as part of a New Year’s Resolution to create more, I figured I’d polish up this blog and write more, so here’s my 2020: Good, Bad, and Ugly. This is a heckin’ long post so only read on... if you dare.

The Good

I never lost my job.

A lot of my academic colleagues did - basically everyone who had “temporary” or “adjunct” in their title was axed. By virtue of being temporary year-to-year faculty for five years, I was promoted to the tenure-track in 2019. I feel very badly for my colleagues, all who lost their job to circumstance, not merit. Six years ago I took a chance leaving a steady job with a newborn to pursue my goal of being an Academic Librarian.  The job was a one-year temporary position with no guarantee of continued employment, and I worked hard, interviewed for my job twice in five years, and managed to hang on. It’s crushing to imagine what it would have been like to survive all that and get axed because of a pandemic, and I feel very badly for my colleagues who suffered that fate.

I got to spend most of the year working from home with my kids.

Before I get into “The Bad”, namely that keeping a five and six year old on task while working a full-time job is incredibly stressful, the good was that I got to watch one-year-old girl grow and grow and grow every day whereas my two boys were in daycare at that age. I got to spend a ton more time with the boys and my wife too.

My kids live in a school district with resources.

We’ve made a lot of strides in Distance Education, but it still isn’t ideal. I feel like my kids’ school district is doing the best they can to make it work. I feel extremely fortunate to live in a district where that was an option from the start, with full distance, hybrid, and in-person options. Not wanting to expose my kids or their teachers to any risk, we’ve gone full distance the whole time. we chose this to keep our kids as safe as possible, so I hope you’ll forgive me when I go into detail under The Bad as why it sucks for everyone involved. ;)

Ms. Bear and I started Doctoral Programs

File this one under “things I’d have never done if I knew the pandemic was going to be this much of a problem in Fall”, but it’s still a good thing - and definitely not the kind of thing I would do if it wasn’t free through my university. With Ms. Bear it’s more of a life-fulfillment thing and I’m happy that I can help her realize her dream. 

The Bad

Distance Education Requires Training - Students Are Struggling

My college freshmen struggled to adapt to their first year seminar class and I attempted to make it as easy as possible for them to follow along, engage online, have second and third chances to turn in assignments... it didn’t matter. Elementary school students have it worse - my kids struggle to stay on task, and me and Ms. Bear do our best to keep them on task. I feel really bad for those kids whose parents can’t work from home or are too busy to stay on them and help them with distance education. I’m not anti-distance education by any stretch, but the pandemic forced a lot of people to switch to it relatively quickly and since distance education is by its nature very self-directed even with a good teacher/instructor, some people unused to this method really struggle.

I should note that none of this is meant as a criticism of the decision to go for distance education.  Health is most important, period, and those politicians that are like “But think of the children, send them to school” - well, hold them back a year if it’s that bad. I repeated the first grade. It’s better than dying. I worry less about the kids’ educational attainment and more for those kids from bad homes where school is a safe haven/source of food. If you’re that worried about it pass some laws to help. 

The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is leaking water

When you find a tiny leak in your roof, if you can afford it, pay the money and fix it. Don’t wait “because it’s a pandemic and we may need that money”. The money sat in my bank account until the the bedroom ceiling started to drop a few months later. Definitely the decision of 2020 I’d most like back.

2020 Was Not The Year to Reduce Stress.

I think everyone is running on fumes by the time they got to the end of this year. For my wife and I as young parents (can’t help that), full-time workers (gotta eat to live), and grad students (like I said above, if I had a do-over I’d DEFINITELY have waited until 2021, the pandemic represented the steady erosion of all the gains I made the past year. Anxiety? Back up. Overall level of physical fitness and nutrition? I was exercising and eating and feeling really healthy in March, but I eat (and feel) like crap now. 

The Ugly

Misinformation, Misinformation Everywhere... and Politics

Misinformation is nothing new for a US Presidential Election year. But as a librarian whose job it is to promote information literacy, understanding which sources are indeed trustworthy and which are not, this election year was frankly, terrifying for me. I mean, if you know a source is trustworthy because of the standards and norms that are used to govern it, but people simply roll to disbelief it’s trustworthiness... I’m not sure how in the hell you get through to them. Lest this be construed as too political a post (I did get a little political above, hee), I’m going to stress that these information discernment skills that seem to be lacking are skills people on both Team Blue Donkey and Team Red Elephant lack. Add to that the psuedoscience, lack of fact-checking, and the whole “If it doesn’t agree with my worldview, I refuse to believe it” attitude illuminated by the pandemic and I’m not going to lie, this shit is terrifying to me. I’m hoping it’s just a phase we’re going through in America, but geez. I’m not a doom and gloomer, but this year was TOUGH in the whole “Faith in humanity’s ability to reason” department. I’ll listen to anyone’s political opinion if they back it up with well-researched sources and facts, but rather than driving closer to this goal, we’re heading in the wrong direction.

I should note that to me, it’s not just Team Red Elephant that has trouble discerning information, or is duplicitous. I need to make that clear. I definitely lean left and it’s not hard to see why - I mean, I’m a heckin’ librarian for crying out loud. But lying and misinformation or misconstruing facts? Some politicians may be more egregious offenders, but most politicians do that regardless of stripe. I feel politics are more like a teeter totter constantly switching up and down. We do ourselves a disservice when we believe everyone on our team is rational and level-headed and everyone on the other team is evil, stupid, irrational. There was a time when we could have discourse, and through disagreements we could at least learn from one another. I intensely understand the desire to make and justify political beliefs, but they’re not how we progress in a country that’s run the way the US is. Maybe it’s always been this way, but as I’ve aged I notice we have a lot more tendency to anoint a politician of our political stripe as a savior. Whatever happened to the old worldview that all politicians were lying dirtbags and though you might side with them, you could never fully trust them? It seems to have been turned on its head, I’m not sure how, to “Trust my side implicitly, DO NOT TRUST THE OTHER SIDE AT ALL.” That one side could be a bastion of truth and virtue and the other a bastion of evil and ugliness is, I’m not gonna lie, extremely unlikely.

Do as I say, not as I do. I got swept up in the political fervor myself with my D&D Friends - for a time we had a “Just Politics” channel to talk politics. That was a big mistake. Though no friendships were ended, that channel alone intensified my anxiety tenfold (MY FRIEND IS WRONG ON THE INTERNET! I HAVE TO SHOW THEM THE ERROR OF THEIR WAYS!) and... yeah. The BEST decision I made in 2020 was folding and walking away from the political discussion table - but it took me a few months of arguing and stressing to get there. I’ve reverted back to trying to do good for all people in my little corner of the world and the web by treating everyone respectfully and rationally unless they give me reason to do otherwise, at which point I’m far more likely to ignore you than engage with you. I hate that I have to do that, but it is what it is. If I talk politics, it’s privately with someone I know that is sane enough to safely distance from the chaos, or someone I trust implicitly. I won’t deny that it’s a very fascinating subject to me since politics is so ingrained into human nature, but good lord, what a minefield.

UGLY Bonus Edit (I always think of the coolest things to say right after I hit post, after all)

A last thought - whenever we’re confronted with a worldview we disagree with, whatever happened to asking the person why they feel that way or what they meant before immediately labeling them scum on Earth? We don’t even bother to fact check the people we loathe when honestly at worst you’re just confirming suspicions, at best you may even cause them to question why they believe what they believe? I can’t remember the last political or heated conversation I’ve seen where that happened. When I was fighting with my friends on “Just Politics” I don’t think I bothered to ask that often enough myself.   

Anyway, I’m looking forward to making 2021 a better year than 2020. Happy New Year, everyone. Love and hope to you all.

#libraribear life #Happy New Year

[jocelynscloset]

Special | Michael Langdon (Part 1 of 2)

Summary: The daughter of the Supreme, Katherine, seems unremarkable until her powers emerge at the age of 16, just weeks before the boys from the Hawthorn School for Exceptional Young Men arrive at Miss Robichaux’s to stay for one week, as is customary with the annual tradition of a masquerade ball celebrating the unity between the two sides of the coven. She intends to indulge in the festivities for the first time, as a newly anointed witch, and who better to steal a dance with than the man who threatens to dethrone her mother?

Word #: 5.7K | Accompanying Playlist for this story | Other Playlists

Author’s Note: This got really really long, so I'm dividing it into two parts. There’s smut in the second half, so be prepared for that. It’ll be out very soon, I’m just putting some finishing touches on the ending :) Please feel encouraged to leave your feedback and reactions, as well as leave a like and/or reblog!

PATREON | KO-FI | COMMISSIONS | MASTERLIST

Cordelia grew to value sharing her kindness more and more, the older she became. The generosity she extended to the young witches at Robichaux’s was beyond any teacher or mentor. Most of her students saw her as another mother. However, as she grew into her prime as Supreme, her longing to have a biological child of her own was reignited, and with her newfound radiant health, she made the decision to have a child on her own and raise it with the help of her sisters. To no one’s surprise, she was gifted with a baby girl, blonde like her mother with striking hazel eyes.

The baby girl was named Katherine, and she was raised between the walls of Miss Robichaux’s Academy For Exceptional Young Women, but for the first 16 years of her life, she showed no inkling of magical ability despite her mother’s power. Although her mother remained seemingly unconcerned, the older she got, the more Katherine questioned whether she had inherited the gene for magic at all.

One night while assisting Mallory with the ingredients for a potion, this ever-present frustration with her lack of ability bubbled to the surface. Mallory had been teaching her botany for the better part of the year since the herb garden began to revive with spring, but no matter how finely she ground the herbs or how intently she whispered the incantations, the spells simply wouldn’t work.

She was beginning to think that she wasn’t like her sisters. She started to believe that she was just like everyone else outside of the coven; completely average. Powerless. Helpless. Vulnerable. Expendable. She felt like a secondary character in her own life’s tale, and when the mixture laid there for the third time, completely unaffected by her words and her greatest mental effort, it happened.

The plant remained lifeless, but the light bulbs hanging above their heads began to tremble and brighten until they were so blinding that Mallory couldn’t avoid the brightness no matter where her eyes shifted. Katherine didn’t notice, as her lips continued breathlessly chanting the incantation, as if she was begging the plant to come alive again. Her eyes were screwed shut, her neck taught and her fingers gripping the edge of the table so hard it began to splinter. When she finally opened her eyes, all she saw was the plant, still dead.

A blood-chilling scream of rage and disappointment left her exhausted lungs, and the lightbulbs shattered, sprinkling broken glass about the room, nearly pulverized by the energy she released.

The smell of smoke reached her nose and she finally snapped out of her trance, looking around the room and seeing the glass dust covering every inch of the greenhouse. Mallory simply stood with eyes wide as saucers, her mouth agape and her hair white sparkling with the glass.

“Did I do that,” Katherine asked, her adrenaline making her heartbeat deafening in her own ears. Mallory could barely control her racing thoughts enough to nod her head.

Before Katherine could process what had just happened, her mother rushed into the greenhouse alongside Zoe, both with looks of pure fear on their faces as they sought out the source of the scream. When their eyes finally landed on the two witches, Zoe went to comfort Mallory and Cordelia slowly approached Katherine while taking in the state of the greenhouse. Katherine was visibly stunned, her eyes glassy and distant and glued to the floor, but when her mother rested her hands on her shoulders, a choked cry escaped her lips and she collapsed into Cordelia’s embrace.

“Something’s wrong with me, mom,” she cried into her mother’s shoulder. Cordelia only shushed her and held her close, stroking her soft blonde hair.

“You’re just special, sweetheart. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A dozen white moths fluttered from Katherine’s fingertips before Zoe’s eyes, contrary to the assigned task of conjuring butterflies. Although she had accomplished magic, it was simply another example of Katherine being so close to doing what was asked of her, but diverging slightly from the others. Cordelia reduced this to a mere lack of experience, as the girls she was practicing alongside had been honing their abilities many years before she had even discovered her own.

“It’s remarkable that she can accomplish even a version of what the other girls her age are going. You must mind the fact that she learned of her ability less than six months ago, and has already caught up to her peers,” Cordelia insisted, her eyes flickering to a glittering piece of glass that must have been left behind from her daughter shattering a vase during their one-on-one lesson the day before. “More or less.”

Zoe’s mouth downturned into a slight frown and her lips opened slightly before snapping her mouth shut. Cordelia didn’t miss it.

“What is it that’s got you so worked up about Katherine, Zoe?” Zoe pursed her lips, taking a seat across from Cordelia.

“Katherine is obviously a wonderful talent. It’s clear to see how quickly she’s progressed in the last few months. However...” Zoe trailed off before Cordelia cleared her throat expectantly. “I’m worried that her magical ability stems from some type of rage. Anger and pain is dark, Cordelia. It’s unpredictable and difficult to control. I wonder if it wouldn’t be in her best interest to separate her from the other girls and focus on teaching her to reach her ability from a healthier place.”

Cordelia knew that Zoe was making sense, and trying to protect everyone at Robichaux’s, including her daughter, by being prudent and cautious, but a small piece of her took her words and pressed them against one of her deepest insecurities.

“What rage?” She asked calmly. Zoe felt the air of the room shift with Cordelia’s kind gaze that never reached her eyes.

“Cordelia-”

“Pain? Anger? Unpredictable and uncontrollable rage? What exactly does Katherine have to draw darkness from?” Zoe distanced herself slightly from her Supreme, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Zoe should have seen this coming. If there was one sensitive, vulnerable spot in Cordelia’s heart, it was her daughter.

“Cordelia, nobody on the face of the planet and beyond would ever question that Katherine has had a very happy life here with you and all of us. She has seen nothing but love and acceptance and encouragement, but she dealt with living in the shadow of other girls her age her entire life, until recently. She watched you teach and bond with a hundred other girls who got your attention before she did, simply because that’s your job,” Zoe reasoned. “It’s not that you did anything wrong or that she’s angry with you. I think she just feels like she has something to prove, and that she’s willing to prove it by any means necessary, including drawing power from places that we don’t show her.”

“There’s darkness in everyone. It’s tempting to everyone, even me. I mean, look at my mother for god’s sake!” Cordelia folded her hands together and relaxed in her chair, despite her jaw remaining tense. “We taught her the difference between light and darkness. She knows how to be good and that she is supposed to rise above the evil. I raised her that way. She won’t devolve into the darkness out of a hunger for power because she knows better. I did not raise my daughter to become like my mother.”

Zoe nodded in surrender and knew that it was the end of the conversation. When Fiona entered the conversation, it was time to extinguish the topic.

“You’re right. I never should have doubted her. You raised her well and the last thing that this coven is going to do is turn their backs on her, no matter what.” Cordelia was visibly ruffled by Zoe’s dismissal of her reassurance, but she let it go for the time being.

“Can you let her know I’m ready for our daily lesson?” Zoe nodded and left the room quickly, leaving Cordelia with a storm of worries to ignore.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun was beating down on New Orleans with a vengeance when the warlocks of The Hawthorne School For Exceptional Young Men arrived, as they did every year to participate in the customary masquerade ball to come together as a united coven. The idea was wholesome and full of potential for fun and mischief amongst the young, budding adults but in reality, it was a tense glaring match between the witches and warlocks that share the highest ranks of the coven. Namely, Cordelia and Ariel. Behold when he was drunk, but he was largely harmless aside from the threat of his magically refilling wine glass staining the linens.

However, for the first time, Katherine was looking forward to the event. This time, she had power buzzing in her fingertips and she would finally feel at home taking part in the magical fun. She took it upon herself to buy a beautiful dress that accentuated her best features and a mask that would leave just enough to highlight her favorite facial features. Her new abilities left her with a refreshed sense of confidence, and she intended to show it to one or two Hawthorn boys in the ballroom.

So, when her mother called for all of the witches to report to the foyer to welcome their guests, she was overjoyed to be standing near the front with her mother, having the opportunity to get a closer look at who she’d be sharing the next week in her home with. Unfortunately for her, the entrance did not go at all as was routine for the occasion.

The second Ariel walked through the doors of Miss Robichaux’s, she and her mother both sensed a particular smugness that wasn’t usually as poignant in Ariel’s demeanor. He was a notorious misogynist, especially when it came to your mother’s supremacy, but he wasn’t usually so transparent. As soon as he took Cordelia’s hand, a smirk began to curl his features and he announced that he had an important matter to discuss with her. Cordelia clenched her jaw slightly but preserved her kind smile, but it was clear to Katherine that her mother was already annoyed with Ariel’s presence in her territory.

Ariel moved aside, announcing the boys and immediately an organized stream of well-dressed young men began to file through the entryway. You watched them pass patiently, sizing each one up as every other young witch was, making your selections and tucking them in the back of your head for later.

Your breath was cut short when your eyes raked over the final boy who walked with much more command over the room than any of the others, including Ariel. He was tall, maybe six feet, with neat blonde hair and light blue eyes that accompanied his gentle smirk nicely. You cocked a brow when his eyes met yours and his smirk grew, him nodding down at you as if he were reading your thoughts.

Maybe he had been.

Eh, so what if he was? He’s not even the most handsome guy here.

You could have sworn you heard a quiet chuckle as he left your sight. You inconspicuously looked behind you and nearly groaned when you saw at least three girls with their jaws sitting on their toes, and he just soaked it all up. He was going to be a pest.

A few hours later, after the boys were assigned to their temporary rooms and the girls were doubled up in theirs, Katherine made her way downstairs for her daily lesson with her mother. Her fist was an inch from the door when she heard Ariel’s angry voice pleading with Cordelia.

“Cordelia, you can’t ignore this boy’s power because of your fear to let go of power. Just give him a chance to show you what he can do—”

“You’re asking me to sentence this boy to his death. There’s no possibility that a warlock’s powers could rise to the level of supreme, let alone surpass it. I will not entertain your desperation to create a world in which men control the coven, because it is simply impossible. This conversation is over.”

“You become more and more like Fiona every day, and you’re too high on your mighty horse to see it—”

“Mother, it’s time for my lesson.” Katherine interjected, pushing the door open. She knew that if he’d said one more word in reference to her grandmother he would have left that room without a tongue. Cordelia cleared her throat and motioned toward the door.

“Have a good evening, Grand Chancellor,” she offered. She only received a huff in response before he stomped out of the room. “Three year-old man, I swear,” Cordelia muttered under her breath.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Now repeat after me, Solvo Liberatum Spirito Malus Nequam,” Cordelia guided, her hands resting in Katherine’s to assist with a routine banishing spell she was trying to learn. Katherine repeated after her mother intently, her eyes screwed shut in focus. After a few moments, her mother let go of her hands and hummed in content. Katherine opened her eyes, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“How do I know if it worked?”

“Well, if there were any evil spirits in the house, they would be effectively removed.” Katherine looked at her mother expectantly.

“And?”

“And, there were none,” Cordelia announced. “Congratulations.”

“Mom, I can handle bigger spells. I’ve learned so much in the last few months but I’m still behind and I have to catch up.”

“You will, sweetie, but you have to give your powers time to grow on their own. It doesn’t happen overnight.” Katherine chewed on the inside of her cheek, feeling tears of frustration gathering in her eyes.

“I just don’t want to feel useless anymore.” Cordelia’s mouth went ajar at her daughter’s confession before she rested her palm on the side of her face.

“You’re not useless, you never have been. You’re just as powerful as any of your sisters, and even if you weren’t you must know by now that the last thing that determines your worth is power.”

Katherine dabbed at the tears cascading down her cheeks and nodded, accepting a gentle hug from her mother before standing to retire to her room for bed. Before she could leave the room, though, her mother called her name.

“Sweetie, be careful around that Michael boy. He seems to be a bit troubled with the charm to match, and I saw the way he eyed you today. Just stay away, okay? For me?” Katherine nodded almost compulsively and promptly left her office.

As Katherine gently tiptoed up the stairs to her room, it occurred to her that this Michael must have been the boy Ariel was so passionately advocating for. But, if it was impossible for a warlock’s powers to rise to the level of supreme, then what exactly was he?

She wagered that in the following few days she would find out.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Katherine’s eyes traveled the page of her latest read, her surroundings having completely disappeared earlier that afternoon. Witches and warlocks had come and gone from the parlor and she remained, peacefully sitting at the table in the corner. However, as the second day of the warlocks’ stay extended into the evening, more and more students crowded into the room, leaving almost no place to sit, even with the added seating, compliments of your mother.

It didn’t surprise her that eventually, the voice of a young man interrupted her story, asking if she would mind him taking the empty seat next to you. When Katherine looked up to assure him it was fine, she met the eyes of none other than Boy Wonder. She tried to conceal the fact that butterflies had begun fluttering around her tummy, but the fact that she took a good ten seconds to respond probably gave him a clue.

“If you’d rather I leave you alone, it’s no problem.” She cleared her throat and motioned to the chair next to her.

“That’s alright. I mean, if you don’t sit here someone else will anyway.” He smiled gently at her and took a seat. She had just returned to her comfortable position and was about to return to her book when he leaned closer to her.

“What are you reading?” Her eyes flickered between his curious expression to the book in her hand.

“Um, a book?” He chuckled and raised his hand to turn the cover toward him so he could read the title.

“I see that,” he said. “But what is it about?” She swallowed a lump in her throat, desperately trying to remember what was going on in the story before he’d shown up.

“It’s a romance. A girl who falls in love with her neighbor. He’s a real douche, though. I don’t know what she sees in him.” She explained, getting a bit caught up as she expressed her thoughts to this complete stranger.

“Then why are you still reading it?” Her brows furrowed at his question. “If you don’t like the love interest of the story, then what’s the point in sticking around?”

“Well, he may be a douche, but I’m hoping that by the end of the story he’s grown up a little and eventually deserves the affection of the main character.” He laughed a little too loud at her response.

“I hope he does too, but people don’t change. If he didn’t deserve her to begin with, wearing nice clothes or playing with more puppies won’t change that. The main character is just as immature as he is if she’s interested in someone she has to change in order to love.” She was speechless at his bluntness, but she realized immediately that he had a point, and that it was probably the most intelligent thing she’d ever hear come out of the mouth of a boy his age. However, part of her wanted to quibble.

“But isn’t love about hope? Isn’t romance in the little things one does to make their lover happy, even if they don’t enjoy doing it?” It was his turn to be stunned.

“Maybe in teenage romance books, but real love is about being happy to do something because it makes your lover happy. Love should be worship, not servitude.” In that moment, she realized that she had no angle with which to play devil’s advocate.

“That’s really… sweet, actually.” The young man smiled at your reaction, reclining back in his seat.

“My name’s Michael, by the way.” He extended his hand to her to shake before pulling it up to his lips, which made Katherine blush.

“Katherine Goode.” His eyes lit up at that.

“So you’re the one the others are constantly murmuring about.” Her eyes widened at Michael’s remark, his smirk growing ever so slightly. “All good things, of course. The warlocks want you and the witches want to be you. You’re quite a supreme presence in this place.” She only scoffed.

“That would be my mother, actually. The only supreme thing about me is that I’m supremely ordinary.” Michael shook his head and chuckled, the sound of which was beginning to grow on her.

“Believe me, Katherine. I think you’re anything but ordinary.” She met his intense gaze and a delicate smile formed on her features as he squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“Well, Michael, that’s very kind of you to say.”

“I mean it. You’ll see. Nothing motivates an extraordinary person like being underestimated, and something tells me you’re not used to people seeing your potential.” Katherine looked down at her toes before he cleared his throat. “But for the time being, let me know how the book ends. I’ll bet you an Andrew Jackson that she believes she got him to change.” With that, Michael stood and retreated to whatever room he was occupying upstairs, leaving her alone again, but this time with the motivations of another boy to wonder about.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Thank you for coming, Michael,” Cordelia said, motioning toward the seat across her desk for him to take.

“Of course, Ms. Goode. What is it that you wanted to talk about? Did I do something wrong?” He feigned cluelessness, but he knew she was concerned about the level of power he had been displaying, especially during magical lessons the past few days.

“No, Michael. In fact, you’re an exemplary student and I think you have a lot of potential to be one of the most powerful men in the coven.” Michael smiled, pretending he didn’t already know that. “I’m not concerned about you or your actions, but it’s been brought to my attention that some of your instruction may be ill-tailored to your abilities. The Grand Chancellor has shown overzeal in the past when it comes to warlocks who have a tendency to have a connection between their emotion and their power, and I’m afraid that that is becoming the case concerning your lessons with us.”

“I assure you, madame supreme, I’m having no trouble with my lessons and Ariel has been nothing but gracious during my time at Hawthorn.”

“I’m sure he has, Michael, but I must question his judgement as he has made a suggestion regarding testing your abilities that would put you in mortal danger, and I would hope that if he ever asked you to perform a task you felt was beyond your current skill set, you would let me know. He may be a high-ranking officer of this coven, but we all make mistakes and your safety is my top priority.” Michael nods, his eyes very sympathetic.

“Of course,” he agreed, “But if I may ask, what was it that he wanted me to do?” Cordelia laughed with a sliver of discomfort in her tone.

“Truthfully, he wanted to sentence you to death by seven wonders.” Michael frowned at her lack of faith. “You’re very talented and a natural with your magical abilities, but a male is simply inhibited from performing magic at the same level of a female, and as harsh as that reality is, it’s much kinder to tell you now rather than let you learn that by getting stuck in hell for eternity.” Michael faked a thankful smile and stood.

“Thank you for your concern, Cordelia, if I may call you that?” She nodded apprehensively. “If I ever feel unsafe, you’ll be the first person to know.” With that, Michael left her office, his face turning quickly into a frown as he walked down the hallway. He was two doors down from his own temporary bedroom when he heard a giggle that sounded an awful lot like Katherine’s coming from the one open door on the second floor. He stopped for a moment, willing himself to just let it be.

Don’t get distracted.

She’s not important enough to occupy this much of my mind.

Stop thinking about her.

However, it only took her giggle echoing from wall to wall one more time for him to abandon his restraint and quietly walk toward her room, stopping just before crossing the opening. He listened for a moment, trying to deduct what was making her laugh, but all he heard was the rustling of fabric. His heart started to race as he thought of all the worst possibilities.

What if someone in there is flirting with her?

What if someone is taking her clothes off?

With that thought circling in his head, he peeked into the room and saw Katherine holding up two dresses, one held up to her neck and the other held in midair by her other hand. She stood in front of a large mirror, comparing the dresses she had collected over the years in anticipation of the masquerade ball. He allowed himself a moment to just… look at her. Her soft, shiny hair, her beautiful skin, the way her dress hugged her in all the right places, and the upturn of her painted lips made his heart race.

He reeled himself in quickly and silently repositioned himself so he was leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest and his signature smirk.

“I like the black one.” He said, startling Katherine for a moment before she looked at the two dresses again and cocked a brow at him.

“They’re both black.” He smiled and winked at her. She sighed and laid them neatly on her bed. “What’s up, Langdon?” He shrugs and looks around her room, observing the little trinkets scattering the various surfaces.

“I just spoke to your mother,” he said. Katherine froze, her eyes widening in fear of what he was about to say next. “She’s worried about me.” Katherine said nothing, praying to whatever was out there that he wasn’t about to tell her that her mother threatened him to stay away from her. “She thinks that the Grand Chancellor is trying to kill me.” Katherine gasped in relief, which made Michael slightly confused. “Oh please, contain your worry.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” Katherine said before stepping forward and taking his hand, leading him to sit on the edge of her bed. “I just thought you were going to say… something else.” Michael smirked knowingly at her, but he let it go quickly and began running his fingers over the fabric of the dresses. “What do you mean ‘kill you’? No offense, Michael, but I think that if Ariel wanted you dead, you would be.” Michael contained his amusement at her assumption, masking it by nodding in agreement.

“I agree. She said that he asked her to administer the test of the Seven Wonders,” he clarified, “on me.” Katherine’s brows furrowed and she shook her head in disbelief. “No, that can’t be right. Ariel is smart enough to know that only a female witch can master the Seven Wonders.”

Michael tutted, raising a brow. “Well, technically only a female witch can become the supreme. A strong enough warlock could, in theory, rise to the level of a supreme’s magic, but he’d be called the Alpha.” She only shook her head, standing from the bed and pacing the room.

“So you think you could be as powerful as my mother?” He nodded.

“Probably even more.” She scoffed at that.

“Sorry, Boy Wonder, but no matter how impressive your powers may be, you won’t ever be the one who dethrones my mother.”

“Oh really, and why is that?” Michael stood, looking down at her with a cocky smirk on his face. Katherine tried for a moment to keep her facial expression angry, and mean, but it faltered ever-so-slightly and gave way to her true fear. She stepped away from him, looking toward the window of her bedroom and folding her arms. Her eyes met the floor as she felt the weight of the words leaving her lips.

“Because if you’re rising, it means she’s dying.” Michael’s expression softened a bit, his jaw clenching before he took a deep breath. Silence filled the room and they were both still, stewing. Michael was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry, Katherine,” he spoke quietly, trying not to further upset her. He could hear the sniffles that gave away that she was about to cry. “I didn’t… I forgot about that.” Katherine turned, her red, teary eyes looking up at him, full of pain.

“It wouldn’t be your fault, Michael. You don’t make the rules,” she reasoned, mostly to herself. “I’m just not ready to lose her. I never will be, but I want her to see what I can really become before she’s gone, you know?” Michael bit his lip, feeling a bit guilty as her tears began to roll down her cheeks. She lets out a choked cry and begins to sob, and Michael pulls her into his arms, stroking her hair as she holds on tightly and just lets it hit her.

“It’ll be okay, Katherine. I promise. You’ve got time. We both do.” She nodded and for the next half hour she just cried it out. Michael had pulled away to clear her bed and let her curl up in his arms there. He held her and every now and then, he whispered that everything would be okay. He left just before lights out with his jacket, finding that the scent of his cologne comforted her, and he promised to come and check on her early the next morning.

She slept better than she had in awhile, that night.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Katherine sat quietly at the kitchen table one night, trying to memorize the incantation for a spell she was being evaluated on the next day when a boy from Hawthorn, who she hadn’t been introduced to yet, asked if he could sit next to her while he studied as well. She nodded, smiling graciously at him before he took the chair closest to her, despite there being 7 others that would have given her some personal space. She didn’t say anything though, not wanting to seem unapproachable.

The silence was comfortable for a few moments, until she felt his knee brush against hers, making her skin erupt in goosebumps. She thought nothing of it, and returned to the page of her spell book, but as soon as she read the next word, his hand was on her thigh under the table. She jumped lightly, scooting away, trying to get him the message that she wasn’t comfortable being touched, but he only tightened his grip on her flesh.

“Um… sorry but, could you maybe take your hand off of my leg?” He looked into her eyes, and instead of seeing the kind smile he’d flashed her before, he had a smirk on his face and a new darkness in his eyes, his other hand reaching to grab the edge of the chair and pull it closer to him. She tried to squirm out of his hold but he grabbed her shoulder and shoved his lips onto hers. She attempted to pull away but his grip travelled to the back of her neck and held her face against his.

She felt a wave of anger shoot through her veins and she bit his bottom lip as hard as she could, tasting copper when he yelped and pushed away, her chair falling backward and tossing her onto the hard floor.

“You bitch! You strut around these fucking halls in your slutty outfits and then complain when you finally get the attention you’re so desperate for?”

“She doesn’t want your attention, but I do,” said Michael, whose face was calm and collected. However, Katherine could feel the rage radiating off of him, hot as the sun. Michael bent his knees, gripping the collar of the boy who’d assaulted you, lifting him up so his toes were dangling just above the wooden floor.  “Listen to me, now, you fucking moron,” He began, his voice now low and bitter. “The only reason I’m not crushing your larynx and tearing it from your throat is because there is a lady present.” The boy cringed, his hands clenched into fists. “But do not think for a second that I will not do so if I ever see your face again. Do you understand?” Michael dropped him without warning, the boy nodding profusely and scrambling away, his breath ragged and his face red.

Katherine remained on the floor, now propped up on her elbows with her eyes wide and her mouth agape. Michael bent and looked her in the eye, as if asking permission to touch her. She nodded, reaching her hands out. He gripped her gently and pulled her to stand, brushing a loose curl from her face as she straightened her dress.

“Thank you, Michael.” He smiled, genuinely smiled down at her offering her his hand once more, causing her to tilt her head in confusion.

“If you want, you can come sit in my room with me while I study. I thought maybe you’d want some company for a bit.” Katherine’s heart warmed and her eyes softened before she rested her hand in his, letting him lead her up the stairs and to his room, which he occupied alone somehow, and where he went to his closet, grabbing a dark grey hoodie that would nearly reach her knees. “Here, it’s more comfortable than what you’re in now. I also have a t-shirt and sweatpants you’re welcome to anytime.” She giggled, motioning for him to turn as she closed the door and dropped her dress, sliding the hoodie over her head with only her spanx, underwear, and bralette underneath.

“This is a little intimate for friends, don’t you think, Michael?” He chuckled, taking a seat at his desk and motioning for you to sit on his bed.

“We’re not friends.” Her face fell a bit, before a blush crept up her neck.

“Oh, right.” Michael sensed the disappointment in her tone, turning around once more and leaning toward her as she sat cross-legged at the foot of his bed.

“We have something better, don’t you think, Katherine?” Her eyes widened and the blush on her cheeks deepened as she shrunk under his intense gaze. She nodded, shifting inside the fabric of his hoodie before he turned back to his books, beginning to study again.

“Relax for a while, I’ll come lay with you in a few minutes once I’ve reviewed my spells for tomorrow’s class.” She slid under the neat covers of his bed and snuggled into his rather large pile of fluffy pillows, breathing in his scent, which lulled her into a satisfying sleep. When she was woken by slight shifting of the mattress, she opened her eyes to see Michael in a t-shirt and boxers. He was joining her under the covers and pulling her into his arms, which she helped with by resting her head on his chest and sliding an arm to rest across his abdomen. He kissed the top of her head and stroked her arm with the warm tips of his fingers, whispering a quick goodnight before using his magic to shroud them in the night’s darkness.

He prayed to his father that he’d have more of these moments with her before he’d have to destroy everything she’s ever cared about.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[jme-crocodile]

(TW: my catholic school trauma)

Reading “The Boy Who Could Change the World”

It’s difficult to even imagine what America was like before the industrial revolution. Their notion of freedom was far stronger than the one we have today. For many Americans, life wasn’t about showing up at a job at a specified hour, following orders all day, and returning home for a couple hours of “free time”—that would be considered slavery. A free American was one who worked on their own or with their family, worked from home, worked whatever hours they liked, and got paid based on what they accomplished.

Under the putting-out system, for example, merchants would deliver raw materials like cotton to your house. When you felt like it, you’d card, spin, and weave the raw cotton into cloth. And then the next week the merchant would come by to buy from you whatever cloth you had produced.

He goes on to discuss mill workers in New England, who were mostly young girls, some around the age of 10. This was before our modern day labor laws, so the girls were working fourteen hour days. They still found time to read & discuss books/ideas, though. 

And through all that thinking and learning and discussing, they began to question the less pleasant aspects of their situation. When, in 1836, the Lowell mill owners decided to cut their employees’ pay, the girls walked out.

What these young girls accomplished is truly amazing. They organized their own newspaper, the Voice of Industry, which they wrote, edited, printed, and sold themselves. Through it they organized more protests and strikes, as well as organized their own slate of candidates in the state elections to fight for better working conditions and a ten-hour day. Amazingly, their slate won. The owners, outraged, got their legislators to declare the election results invalid and hold a revote. Before the revote, large signs were posted threatening that anyone who voted for the ten-hour slate would be fired. And yet the slate won again.

[..]

But their writing in the Voice shows that they wanted much more than simply better working conditions. They saw themselves as slaves—wage slaves—and concluded that the solution was not simply to demand that the bosses be nicer to them or pay them more, but to abolish the bosses entirely.

Their bosses didn't like this, at all. The mill owners fired the girls, blacklisted their names, and then did something strange: they sent girls to school.

The schools they built—the common schools—would be easily recognizable by any modern student. “The door [of each school] shall be closed precisely at the time fixed for the opening of the school, and in the morning religious exercises will be performed, for which purpose 10 minutes are allowed.” (Today we just say the pledge of allegiance.) “Each teacher shall call the roll call of his or her classes … in the morning and afternoon, and shall keep an accurate record of all absences.” The day was then divided into separate lessons, allowing “30 minutes for the study of each lesson and 10 minutes for each recitation.”

Instead of corporal punishment, teachers were encouraged to secure order “by the mildest possible means” to instill “a regard for right, and thus a standard of self-government in the minds of the children themselves.”* Students were tested on how much they learned and, just like today, working coordinating other students was considered “cheating” and punished. (Perhaps they were worried that if students learned to coordinate they might be more likely to foment strikes once in the mills.)"

[...]

Careful records kept by the mill owners allow us to compare mill workers who did and did not go to school. Just as with modern students, there is no evidence of any impact of increased education on worker productivity.*

So why did the mill owners spend so much money building and running these schools? They were quite clear about their intent. The classes were justified not for their usefulness but because memorizing them was a form of “moral education” leading to “industrious habits … and the consequent high moral influence which it exerts upon society at large.”

As one Lowell manager explained it, “I have never considered mere knowledge, valuable as it is in itself to the laborer, as the only advantage derived from a good common-school education. I have uniformly found the better educated, as a class, possessing a higher and better state of morals, more orderly and respectful in their deportment, and more ready to comply with the wholesome and necessary regulations of an establishment.”"

As the Lowell School Committee summarized their findings: “The proprietors find the training of the schools admirably adapted to prepare the children for the labors of the mills.” Why? “When [their laborers] are well educated … controversies and strikes can never occur, nor can the minds of the masses be prejudiced by demagogues and controlled by temporary and factitious considerations.”*

Indeed, school was so important that the mill owners quickly decided to make it mandatory. “No language of ours can convey too strongly our sense of the dangers which wait us from [those who] are not and have never been members of our public schools,” warned the Lowell School Committee. Universal schooling is “our surest safety against internal commotions.”‡ The children who didn’t attend school “constitute an army more to be feared than war, pestilence and famine,” warned the committee. “Unsuccessful attempts, during the past year, to burn two of our school-houses … are an index to the evils which threaten from such sources.”

More accurately, such burnings were an index of public resistance to such coercion. In 1837, 300 teachers were forced to flee their classrooms by riotous and violent students.║ In 1844, the Irish population went on strike from the schools, reducing attendance by 80%. The School Committee stepped up their anti-truancy efforts to force them and others back to school."

And so the spread of schools and factories destroys the American model of freedom. Instead of being independent farmers or self-employed manufacturers, Americans are herded into factories enmasse, forced to work for someone else because they cannot earn a living any other way. But thanks to schools, this seems normal, even natural. After all, isn’t that just the way the world works?

The effect on the students is almost heartbreaking. Taught that reading is simply about searching contrived stories for particular “text features,” they learn to hate reading. Taught that answering questions is simply about cycling through the multiple-choice answers to find the most plausible ones, they begin to stop thinking altogether and just spout random combinations of test buzzwords whenever they’re asked a question.  “The joy of finding things out” is banished from the classroom. Testing is in session.”

School hasn’t seemed to have changed much since the early 1800s, at least the not sort of schooling geared for the masses. As a child, I was strongly discouraged from risk taking, ridiculed by teachers when I gave the wrong answer, punished for asking questions, had to ask permission to use the bathroom (and was often refused), refused permission to get a drink of water (the school had no air conditioning & it was June in Pennsylvania. Yes, multiple children got heat exhaustion, daily. Our parents commiserated, but thought this was normal. Teachers treated this as normal. We were told to “toughen up” and respect our elders when we complained.) We were taught to need someone’s permission to get medical attention. 

I was once refused when I needed to see the nurse (I was going to vomit.) The teacher accused me of lying & told me to sit down. I sat down, and about two minutes later threw up. I half expected to get a demerit for dirtying the floor. I burst into tears, blubbering out humiliated apologies to my classmates and to the teacher. Above my concern for my dignity and health had been placed my teacher. That was my mentality as a kid.

(Normal is whatever you’re used to, but people shouldn’t be used to this.)

The thing that stands out in all of this, now, was how the other students remained frozen. I don’t know how to interpret their freeze -- they didn’t move to get me a tissue, or towels, or anything. The teacher had forbade me from moving to clean up myself, so I had to wait for the nurse to arrive in a puddle of my own vomit. I obeyed. My classmates were staring at their desks, at the wall, anywhere but the teacher or myself. Maybe they were suffering second-hand embarrassment, or pity, or even fear that the teacher would lash out at them, next. 

That was the sort of environment we grew up in, for 14 years of our lives. 

In all of this, I notice this kind of moral fragmentation that society today seems to encourage. There’s a sense that people have abrogated all responsibility: “oh, that’s not my department, I’m not the one who makes the rules.” So we ignore people in pain, and accept on an instinctive level that there’s nothing we can do. 

Except that isn’t true, even that asshole Lowell said, “The children who didn’t attend school “constitute an army more to be feared than war, pestilence and famine.””

This submissive attitude people have comes from fear, from an underestimation of our own strength and compassion. 

---

Like, do people get what this does to a person’s self-esteem? Maybe not, because they’re all suffering from the same blindness.

Last week during the heat wave, I started experiencing heat exhaustion and  my instinctive thoughts were to move as little as possible, and wait for it to be over.

I mean, what does that sound like to you?

Like, maybe my experiences at school were unusually bad, but it looks to me a lot like our society is systematically abusing kids into submissively accepting poor treatment by their superiors. 

#unschooling #aaron swartz #tw-school

[mllemaenad]

Wizards in Harry Potter aren't liable to be possessed by literal demons from Hell regardless of their good intentions. Furthermore, non-magical people in Harry Potter also have guns, sniper rifles combat planes, tanks, heat seeking missiles, NUCLEAR BOMBS to equalize the fight if a dark wizard starts thinking that he should rule them. The two settings are completely different. Give these advantages to non-magical people in Thedas and I will agree that the Circles aren't necessary.

Hi Anonymous person!

Look. I’m a little perturbed by what you’ve got there, because you seem awfully willing to cause harm to helpless people on the basis of what they might do. But I’ll do this in chunks.

Wizards in Harry Potter aren’t liable to be possessed by literal demons from Hell regardless of their good intentions.

Well. Neither are mages in Dragon Age, largely because ‘hell’ doesn’t exist. I know that sounds flippant, but it’s important. Andrastianism isn’t Christianity, of course, but it does have a Christian aesthetic – more specifically a Catholic one – and the Chantry operates in a world reminiscent of a time when a pope could dominate kings and start holy wars.

That Christian aesthetic is also applied to spirits. Instead of the ‘Seven Deadly Sins’ we have Enchanter Brahm’s five demons: rage, hunger, sloth, desire and pride. It’s a useful game mechanic, absolutely; you can’t have infinite monster designs in a game, and it helps the player figure out what kind of weapons to employ in any given fight. However, as the story goes on it becomes increasingly clear that the Chantry’s view of spirits and demons is simplistic at best and outright wrong at worst.

Spirits embody something that has become important to them. There are many, many more kinds than the Chantry’s sins and virtues lists would acknowledge. There’s a spirit of Command hanging out in Crestwood in Inquisition who just really wants someone to obey its orders for a while. Solas will talk to you about a spirit who embodies an ideal people have forgotten.

Demons seem to be largely spirits who have suffered in some way. We usually don’t know why. Solas’s friend is an obvious example – a spirit who was inexpertly summoned and trapped by frightened mages. It’s also noteworthy that Merrill talks about her ‘demon’ being bound and left over from war. While of course we can’t know exactly what happened there, we can fucking guess, right?

These are all just beings – people. And they’re all from the same place. Not hell, heaven, purgatory or anything like that. They’re from The Fade, which is their home, the source of magic, and was apparently much closer to the rest of the world before Solas and the Veil.

I’ve noted repeatedly that spirit possession is an important part of several cultures, and is often a positive thing. Possessed mages serve as companion characters (Wynne, Anders) and kick some serious arse in battle, and Justice just wanders around in Awakening wearing a corpse and it’s fine.

Of course, no one is saying that possession can’t go wrong. I’ve played the games, and of course my characters have killed both ‘demons’ and ‘abominations’. But. When you say something like ‘demons from hell’ you’re imposing a particular religious view on the story – one that allows you to simply declare that these people are evil and that it’s fine to kill them. We know that it is possible to liberate a possessed mage, and to heal a spirit who has been corrupted. We have seen both those things. But why bother if they’re evil, right? Just lock them up and kill them if things get tricky.

That view is wholly wrong for the setting of Dragon Age. But it is … pretty well on par with the view the Chantry actually expresses. So when you say ‘demons from hell’ I actually think that’s an excellent reason why the Circles should be abolished, because it’s imposing ideas on this situation that are wrong, unhelpful and cruel.

Also. I mean. Also. Yes, I have fought possessed mages in Dragon Age. I have also fought possessed templars. Possessed trees. Possessed bones. Possessed rocks.

If you feel we need to lock up everything that can get possessed, you’re going to have to start with all the people and then move on to all the plants and inanimate objects. If all things can be possessed, then all things need to be locked up. And if all things are inside the prison, couldn’t we just … not have one?

Furthermore, non-magical people in Harry Potter also have guns, sniper rifles combat planes, tanks, heat seeking missiles, NUCLEAR BOMBS to equalize the fight if a dark wizard starts thinking that he should rule them.

Um. Sorry Anonymous person but … what? Have you … read those books? Now, granted I haven’t read them in a while but I have read them. And … I have no idea what you’re talking about.

‘Muggles’ in Harry Potter are usually comic relief, and even the ones that aren’t simple buffoons are depicted as largely helpless against magical attacks of any kind. The British government shows up just long enough to express a heartfelt ‘What the actual fuck?’ at the war with Voldemort before promptly vanishing from the plot again.

All of this … stuff about conventional weapons you’ve introduced has come from your imagination. It’s not how the relationship between Muggles and wizards is portrayed in the novels at all.

In fact, conceptually, I would say that the wizards of Harry Potter are much scarier than the mages of Dragon Age. Tevinter had an empire in Dragon Age, and because they value magic the magisters undoubtedly used it in the fight to obtain that empire. But they were taken down by famine and Blight, and finished off by war. In the series’ ‘present day’ Orlais has achieved the exact same thing as Tevinter with significantly less magic (not no magic, of course, since they will drag their imprisoned mages into battle), and there’s no sense that Tevinter can just zap its way back into power. They are constrained by economics, geography and politics just like everyone else. Magic is useful, but only up to a point.

Now … in Harry Potter, there’s a pretty strong sense that wizards could just take over the planet any time they felt like it. In fact, the back story contains one Grindelwald, who actually did want to take over the world and enslave Muggles. This was not a war between Muggles (who are not supposed to have been able to prevent this) and wizards, but rather an internal schism in the wizarding community. Gindelwald was not defeated by NUCLEAR BOMBS (And seriously – what the hell, is your plan to defeat wizards ‘flatten Scotland’? because that’s what would happen if you tried to bomb Hogwarts. You want to take out Diagon Alley? Congratulations, you just blew up London.), but rather in an old style man-to-man duel with another wizard. In a castle. They were ex-lovers. I’m assuming it was on the ramparts, it was raining and everyone was screaming like Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker in Revenge of the Sith.

I haven’t kept up with it, but I am peripherally aware that J K Rowling has said … increasingly weird things over the years, and I’m not attempting to defend any of that. But there was a general … theme in the novels that … most people probably aren’t fascists, and when the fascists come from within it is the community that must take them down. So Muggles are not given much power or agency at all.

This had nothing to do with heat-seeking missiles. Just … what?

Meanwhile, over in Dragon Age the Chantry talks a lot about mages having advantages in battle, but in practice that’s not what we actually see. For a start, non-mages have plenty of weapons that work just fine against magical enemies - swords, spears, arrows, axes. Nobody in Thedas has NUCLEAR BOMBS, mage or not. It’s not setting appropriate. Anders may have been a mage, but he had to rely on explosive material (likely gunpowder) to actually get a significant bang.

Non-mages may also wield enchanted weapons, meaning that they can literally take magic into battle with them. The mage over there is shooting lightning from her fingers? Your sword shoots fireballs. What the hell are you complaining about?

Nor does simply having a weapon in your hand mean that you know how to use it. I don’t know how to use a gun. Someone could give me one, in a crisis, I suppose. But it would only be luck that allowed me to incapacitate an assailant, and I certainly couldn’t fight several. Most ‘ordinary’ people in Thedas won’t have much in the way of weaponry. But likewise, neither will mages. They have magic, but that isn’t the same thing.

How many dead bodies do you need to prove this? The mage who was apparently murdered by villagers in Crestwood, when she went in to try to help them. The mages cut down by the Qunari swords in The Demands of the Qun. The villagers who were going to fucking lynch Rhys and his friends in Asunder.

It feels like you’ve made up a story about how magic works in both of these series that isn’t true to either of them.

Give these advantages to non-magical people in Thedas and I will agree that the Circles aren’t necessary.

So … to be clear, you’re arguing for:

the abduction of and permanent separation of children from their parents

forced conversion to a religion and the suppression of alternative religious beliefs

deprivation of citizenship and the basic rights that come with that

reducing people to a permanent infantile status as wards of a religious institution

permanent surveillance of affected individuals (phylacteries)

execution without trial where deemed appropriate by religious authorities

… because people might get possessed and can sometimes make fire come out of their hands? Well. Okay then. Good to know.

#dragon age #chantry critical #Anonymous

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

No rush, but if you're in the mood for another question: pick your one favorite and least favorite season of each of these series :) Charmed, BtVS, Angel, Friends, TVD. I know it's hard to pick just one favorite and one least favorite, so good luck ;)

Charmed

Favourite season: Season 4

What can I say about this season? It’s just brilliant. Although Prue is my favourite character, the aftermath of her death, introduction of Paige and transition to a new trio is handled brilliantly. I love the different dynamic that Paige brings to the show and how Piper and Phoebe’s worlds are completely turned upside down by losing Prue and finding Paige. I love getting to know Paige in episodes like A Knight to Remember and A Paige From the Paige, I adore seeing the process of Piper accepting Prue’s death and embracing Paige and their magic in episodes like Hell Hath No Fury and Lost and Bound. And despite the controversy surrounding the Cole/Source plot, I enjoyed Phoebe’s arc in this season with adapting to becoming the middle sister, getting married and pregnant and suffering the most life-changing, soul-destroying losses imaginable. We even got a Leo-centric episode with Saving Private Leo which finally gave us insight into Leo’s past. Season 4 is a consistently strong season in my opinion (albiet with a weak finale) and episodes like Charmed Again, Hell Hath No Fury, Charmed and Dangerous and Long Live the Queen are some of the most memorable episodes of the series for me. You can read more about why I love season 4 here.

Least favourite season: Season 8

This season is so weak. The show could’ve (and probably should’ve) ended with season 7 so the whole season suffers from a complete lack of direction. All of the characters have already gone full circle with their arcs and development so there’s nowhere new to take them. As a result, they all feel watered down. Phoebe and Paige lose all of their personality and spark, whilst Piper is reduced to a stereotype where her snark and sarcasm is taken to unnecessary levels. Billie and Christy are poor villains for the final show-down and neither actress fits within the show. They steal too much focus from the sisters and since it’s the final season this is the season that should be all about the sisters. In addition, there’s a complete lack of sisterly moments in this season, Darryl is absent and Leo is removed for a large part of the season. Not to mention, Paige and Henry and Phoebe and Coop are rushed romances established simply to give Phoebe and Paige their “happily ever after” for the season finale. Even the final episode is pretty weak. Whilst I appreciate the happy ending, it all seems cheesy and too good to be true, and it’s way too Piper-centric and lacks balance. You can read more about why season 8 is my least favourite here.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Favourite season: Season 2

This season is a solid and a really great season. We have Spike and Drusilla as the best villanous pairing in teleivision history, a brilliant two-parter with a dramatic twist in Surprise and Innocence, the Angelus arc which I never get tired of watching and a strong ending with The Becoming Part 1 and 2. For Passion alone this season deserves to take the number 1 spot, but my love for Angel/Angelus (and Bangel) only adds to how much I love the season.

Least favourite season: Season 7

Whenever I rewatch BTVS, I rarely make it through the final season. It’s just not a good season. I don’t like the direction Buffy and Spike’s relationship is taken in, I dislike the introduction of the Potential Slayers, the after-math of Willow’s dark arc is handled poorly, the Willow/Kennedy romance is rushed and completely forced, The First is a poor final villain to end the series with particularly following villains like the Mayor, Angelus, Spike and Dru. All of the supporting characters (Willow, Xander, Anya, Dawn etc.) are pushed aside and given no real arcs or development. Overall this season is completely forgettable and a very weak end to a brilliant series.

Angel

Favourite season: Season 2

Ah, it’s so hard to choose because it’s a toss-up between season 2 and 3. At this present moment, I’m going to go with season 2. I love Darla’s arc in this season and her dynamic with Angel, it’s also so satisfying to see Dru and Darla wreak havoc together. Angel gets pushed to arguably the darkest place he’s ever been (up until this point) and I love seeing him lose all faith in the world, life and humanity only to then have an epiphany where his entire perspective shifts and he gets absolute clarity. Seeing Cordy, Wes and Gunn go off on their own is great, I love their dynamic and how strong they are in this season. This is also the final season that features Kate, who I really like and think is very underrated. There’s a lot of focus on other minor characters who I love such as Lilah and Lindsey. This is also the season that we get the newest additions to Angel Investigations: Lorne and Fred. Honestly, the end of this season really lets it down for me, but the beginning and middle is so strong with Darla and Angel that it always sits near the top as my favourite season.

Least favourite season: Season 4

This probably won’t come as a surprise to any Angel fans reading this. Season 4 is undoubtedly the worst season of the series. It takes a beautiful, complex, well-developed character in Cordy and completely decimates her. Everything that she is and that fans love her for is stripped away, her agency is removed and she’s hijacked by an evil being who uses her body to commit horrendous acts. Seeing Cordy!Jasmine sleep with Connor will always make me feel physically sick. For Angel to have to witness that and endure the pain of seeing the woman he loves having sex with his adolescent son is disgusting. Overall, the treatment of Cordy and Connor in this season makes me so uncomfortable. Fred and Gunn’s relationship is dismantled to make way for Fred and Wesley, which in my opinion is by far the weaker ship. Even the appearance of Angelus and Faith later on in the season doesn’t make up for the rest of the season. Losing Cordy and Lilah are huge losses that also make this season my least favourite.

Friends

Favourite season: Season 3

This is a great season. Whilst every season of Friends is generally a mixed bag in terms of the quality of episodes, season 3 is pretty consistent. The ensemble feels at its strongest in this season and every episode gives focus to the group as a whole. Ross and Rachel’s relationship is great in this season and their break-up is genuinely heart-breaking; we have Janice this season who I find highly entertaining; Monica and Richard’s relationship which I enjoy (despite being a Mondler shipper) and of course, the chick and duck. Despite this being a sitcom, all of the characters go through genuine development in this season too. Joey gets to experience what it’s like to be on the other side of things when he falls for Kate who plays around with his feelings; Chandler navigates his first serious relationship with Janice where he has to try and overcome his fear of commitment and later deal with the hurt of their break-up; Monica deals with the loss of her first great love in Richard and has to reconsider what she wants from her future; Rachel progresses in her career and tries to establish her own identity and independence for the first time; Ross has to face up to the damage his relationship with Carol has done to him in regards to his jealousy and insecurity. It’s rare that we see character development like this in a sitcom, but season 3 is definitley a strong season for this. There are so many golden episodes from this season: TOW No One’s Ready, TOW the Flashback, TOW the Football and TOW the Morning After.

Least favourite season: Season 9

Lets get this straight, there’s no such thing as a bad season of Friends, however, this is the weasest season in my opinion. I don’t like Chandler’s move to Tulsa, the direction Ross and Rachel’s relationship takes, how Rachel’s feelings for Joey are handled and the two parter TO in Barbados is my least favourite season finale, I really, really don’t like those episodes. I also find that there are quite a lot of episodes in this season that are just plain bad and not funny like TOW the Sharks, TOW Phoebe’s rats and TOW Monica sings just to name a few. Overall, there’s not a single season 9 episode that I could name as being a favourite or even coming close to being on my top favourite episodes list.

The Vampire Diaries

Favourite season: Season 3

This is an easy choice for me (although season 2 is a very close second). I love season 3. It’s the season of the Originals and for that reason I can’t do anything else but love it. Klaus is the best villain and feels like a genuinely terrifying threat to the gang. The overall plot across the season is tight and well executed. Despite my dislike for the triangle, it’s handled amazingly in this season and it’s the only season where I can genuinely appreciate the triangle and the dynamics within it. As a Stelena shipper, I live for the angst between Stefan and Elena in this season and adore every single scene they have together. I also love Stefan’s arc with him being forced to become Klaus’ side-kick to save Damon and then being compelled to turn off his humanity despite how hard he fights against that. It’s a great season for Stefan’s character and shows the complexity of him better than the previous two seasons. Elena is also at her best in this season. Her strength and resillience really shines through and in this season she stops feeling like a by-stander and like someone that’s taking charge of her life and getting shit done. Alaric’s arc is dark and heart-breaking. Caroline and Tyler are strong in this season and they’re one of my favourite TVD ships. However, Klaus and Caroline’s dynamic is intruiging and brings a new flavour to the show. And although I never wanted Elena to become a vampire, the season finale is fantastic and a very strong ending to a brilliant season.

Least favourite season (note that I haven’t watched seasons 7 and 8): Season 5

Urgh, this season is just the worst. It totally retcons the mythology and history of the show with making Stefan a doppelganger. As much as I love Paul’s acting, Silas is such a crappy character. The Travellers are pointless; Damon and Elena’s on-again-off-again relationship is tiresome, the Augustine plot goes no where; the switch from high school to college is bumpy; Stefan is completely sidelined by awful writing choices; the best character on the show (Katherine) is done a huge disservice and her exit from the show is pitiful; Bonnie suffers once again (surprise, surprise); the introduction of Nadia just doesn’t work; there’s stupid scenes and episodes that are present for the sole reason of baiting Stelena shippers (5x04 and 5x18) and the finale is completely dumb. There’s not a single thing I like about this season.

Thanks for asking, lovely! 

#answered #meant-to-be-waiting-for-me #my meta #charmed #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #friends #the vampire diaries