I really want to make an all encompassing post at some point on how Larian fails at writing evil (in bg3) and two other all encompassing posts about how they failed at writing Viconia and Sarevok in particular. That isn't what this post is going to be, but I just need to air some things out for myself.
LIKE if you take all of the trauma that the bg3 companions have and combined them into one character, you have Viconia. And if you put in the effort to help her become a better person- becoming true neutral in alignment (the same alignment as Jeheira btw), you really get to see all of that. And yes it takes until the end of Throne of Bhaal to do, and it is actual work. You have to try, and keep at it, and it;s hard. It's not "just say nice things and then good things happen" there are a lot of ups and downs and unlearning of toxic behaviors that Viconia goes through. It takes time. It it's so rewarding to see her reach that.
I've said my piece on Seravok before. BUT I think it's extremely fucked they took such a nuanced antagonist, someone who killed a person your player characters is suppose to love (if you think they see that person as family) and you can still reach out to him, help him. make see how he was wrong and how it hurt him and the people he loved. get his alignment to change from chaotic evil all the way to chaotic good. But then Larian makes a black man who is incestuous and very abusive to his extremely white looking daughter/granddaughter. It's just so awful. I hated seeing it so much. Like seriously- why the fuck did they do that? It makes no sense. And I do think it's important to point out Sarevok being black. Larian treat the black characters in bg3 rather poorly. It's racist. Doesn't matter if they did it intentionally or not. If anyone is a black fan I would love to read any addition you'd want to add to this post.
They also just get so much wrong about this character? He was never a Bhaal worshiper. He wanted to use his situation of being a Bhaalspawn to obtain godhood. And this self distributive path is what causes Tamako to leave him. Because she knew she was going to loose him anyways if he didn't stop. And then he got into a new relationship where his new parent encourage his self destruction and benefited from it. Post series, in the end game slides, regardless if you helped Sarevok change his alignment or not, he personally escorts Tamoko's body back to her homeland, Kara-Tur (if you're interested there is a mod that let's Tamoko live and become a companion of Gorion's Ward. I haven't played with it yet, but I plan on checking it out. There are so many mods that let poc companions with scripted deaths live, it nice to see- even if those deaths could have been not written or at the very least have the abilities to save them should have been there from the beginning.)
Both of these characters are about the cycle of abuse, on rather it gets broken or not. Just like the companions from bg3 are. But Larian says "no they failed and in fact are irredeemable"
It's shocking that games from 1998 and 2001 had a better discussion on restorative justice. And yes it's a fantasy setting where you care suppose to fight people, you're not going to be able to do that with every character. But doing this better than a game in 2024? When we have so much more resources and knowledge about this? It's just disheartening.
That isn't to say that the original games didn't have their flaws, they very much did. The stuff from bg3 is just more raw right now.
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Just A Moment : Chapter 29 : Fireworks
All Starz | FFN Rating: T (underage drinking, minor language) | FFN Link
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“Did you guys have fun clapping for Max and Rick, because I sure did,” Eddy said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He took a swig from the bottle in his hand. It was nearly empty, despite containing the wateriest, cheapest beer Michael could get a hold of. He sighed and finished it anyway.
“Sorry, man, I know it sucks.” Michael opened another bottle with his teeth and spat the cap out somewhere to the right. Ignoring the scoff from behind them that followed, he handed it to Eddy.
“Shitty beer for a shitty day.” Eddy shrugged and added his empty to the line they’d started on the wall. There were fireworks reflecting in the glass. He scowled.
Normally the All Starz celebratory send-off was more fun than this. Normally, he and Steve and Michael were the ones being congratulated and cheered on. Normally, Judy looked to them, her top brass, to bring America its World Championship victory instead of her precious baby boy and a bully from the street.
This year, Steve was injured and the rest of them couldn’t get away from the party fast enough. While Max and Rick watched the fireworks outside in front of the cameras, the rest of them retreated to the roof to sulk.
“I hate this.”
Michael downed half of his beer in a few gulps, then said, “I think I’m having a midlife crisis.”
“Oh, please,” Emily groaned, apparently done with staring on in silent disapproval. “You’re eighteen, Michael, not forty. And stop using your teeth to open those, because I’ll be the one stuck finding you a dentist before the tournament tomorrow if you break a tooth.”
“Emily,” Michael said, turning around to lean against the wall with the city to his back, “if you can’t get in the spirit of misery, you can always join the others.”
“Yeah, maybe they need someone to hold Rick’s boombox or calibrate Max’s launcher or something.”
Michael chuckled. He and Eddy clinked their bottles together.
Emily slammed her laptop shut and sent them an icy glare. She was perched on one of the building’s AC units and practically vibrating with anger. Eddy suspected most of it wasn’t because of their jokes.
“Neither of you are old enough to be drinking those,” she pointed out while forcefully shoving her computer into its bag. “I should report you to the director.”
“Ha, please,” Michael scoffed and took another drink.
“You know, Emily,” Eddy interjected with a playful grin, “if you want one, all you have to do is ask. No need to be grouchy.”
“No, thank you.”
Eddy shrugged and went back to nursing his drink.
Shortly after, Emily gave in and joined him and Michael at the edge of the roof. The three of them stood in companionable silence and watched the fireworks crack and shimmer across the sky. It would have been peaceful if there weren’t such strong feelings of injustice stewing in each of them.
“This really bites,” Eddy said when he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
His teammates made noises of agreement.
“Emily, you shoulda lied when Judy had you go over Rick’s intake data,” Michael said, twirling his bottle between his hands and scowling into the distance. “Max is whatever, mommy’s favorite and all that shit, but Rick’s a giant bag of dicks.”
Eddy snorted into his beer.
Emily bristled.
“She never had me review it.” There was a poorly-concealed bitterness in her voice. She crossed her arms in front of her.
Eddy exchanged a look with Michael. He could see his friend’s eyes widen in the flickering light of another firework.
“No wonder you’re pissed,” Eddy said, and took a drink. He didn’t even taste it going down, too preoccupied with wondering why Judy was keeping secrets from Emily, of all people. It wasn’t like she would have skewed the data – she was too academically proud for that. Probably would have cautioned Judy about Rick’s lousy attitude and been done with it.
“I trust Director Judy’s calculations!” Emily said defensively.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to like them,” Michael pointed out. He tipped the neck of his bottle in her direction and wiggled it, one more offer.
Emily huffed, then snatched the bottle and took a drink like she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t do it fast. She hadn’t even swallowed the whole way when she made a noise of disgust and shoved it back into Michael’s hands.
“Not many parties on weekends?” Michael quipped.
Most days Emily would deliver a witty retort that let them know, in no uncertain terms, how pointless that would be for the development of her brain and her career. This time she got mad.
“No!” she exclaimed waspishly. Her eyes gleamed with emotion as they darted between Eddy and Michael. Eddy recognized that look – she was debating whether or not to say something that she desperately wanted to because she knew it would make her sound her age for once. Her anger won out in the end. “You haven’t either! None of us have done anything but train on weekends for months!
“And I don’t know about you two, but I turned down dozens of opportunities for the sake of the World Championships and I’m not even going to get to beyblade!” she finished, wiping away tears of frustration and knocking her glasses askew in the process. She yanked them off forcefully and turned away to clean them, successfully hiding any lingering tears.
“At least you’ll get to process data,” Eddy pointed out, both to cheer her up and to complain. “Michael and I are gonna be stuck twiddling our thumbs on the bench.”
“Yeah, Emily,” Michael chimed in begrudgingly, “Max’ll probably even let you blade if you act upset enough. Judy always says he’s such a gentleman.” He made a show of gagging at the thought and Eddy raised his drink in a mock toast. “Save some of those tears for Maxie.”
“You two don’t get it!” Emily rounded on them. “I was just looking at Judy’s data – she’s been compiling it for almost a year!”
Judging by her tone that was supposed to mean something to them. Eddy looked at Michael to see if he was following and got a shrug in return.
Emily rolled her eyes and clarified: “She’s known for a long time what was going to happen with the Championships this year and the three of us were never part of her plans.”
A heavy silence fell over their group. Eddy thought it seemed suddenly cold on the rooftop and set his beer aside in favor of shoving his hands into the pockets of his team jacket. If it were up to Judy, he probably wouldn’t even be wearing it. The thought made his blood begin to boil.
It made sense now why she didn’t seem concerned about Steve’s injury sidelining him. Probably made her life a hell of a lot easier not having to force one of them off the team entirely. And, with the new tournament format, she could still claim the rest of them as a successful pet project, all the while giving the spotlight to Rick the Barbarian and Max the Nepotism Baby.
The sound of a bottle smashing against concrete interrupted his thoughts. Michael had thrown the remains of his drink on the ground in anger. Hundreds of pieces of glass scattered across the roof, a sour mimicry of the fireworks scattering across the sky above them.
“Michael!” Emily scolded.
“Bullshit!” Michael shouted, ignoring her. “She can’t do this to us!”
Eddy nodded fiercely, throat too constricted to say anything. Trades happened in sports every day, but it was underhanded and cruel of Judy to train them for positions she never had any intention of letting them play.
“She already did!” Emily shot back, voice high and hollow like she was fighting more angry tears.
“Well we aren’t gonna let her!”
Michael grabbed the sleeve of Eddy’s jacket and dragged him over to Emily, the All Starz logo bunched up in his fist. The three of them stood in a huddle, Michael and Emily glaring at each other with separate challenges in their eyes. Eddy waited with bated breath for one of them to snap. His hands were clenched to tightly in his pockets that he could feel blunt nails digging into his palms.
With a resolute nod, Michael clapped both Emily and Eddy on the shoulder. He left his hands there, a solid connection, and surveyed their group.
“We’re still in this,” he said, sounding more like the captain he was than usual. “They can try to bench us all they want, but we don’t have to sit back and take it. We’re the original All Starz. We built this team. Nobody is gonna make us feel like we aren’t good enough for it.” His grip on their shoulders tightened.
Eddy grinned, in spite of himself, and stretched his arms out over his teammates’ shoulders.
“Damn right.”
Then came the finale of the fireworks show. Eddy could feel every explosion in his chest as the brightest starbursts yet cast a blinding light on their rooftop huddle. The wind carried the cheers of their home crowd on an updraft. It had a bolstering effect, even if it wasn’t solely for them.
Soon Judy would be ushering Max and Rick off of their pedestal to rest up for the first round of battles. Max would listen to her and Rick would disappear to wherever he disappeared to. The rest of them would be lucky if Judy wondered where they were before the cameras came back on and she needed her set dressing.
“Emily?” Michael prompted, giving her a shake. She’d been quiet for too long. “You gonna give ‘em hell with us? Or do you wanna hold the boombox?”
Emily stared past them pensively, the light show reflecting in her glasses and masking her thoughts.
“C’mon, Em.” Eddy felt some of the tension in her shoulders ebb away at the nickname. “All for one and one for all.”
“Except Max and Rick,” Michael added.
Emily snorted and shrugged them off. When she looked at them, she was almost smiling.
“Clean up this glass,” she ordered, slinging the laptop with Judy’s stupid data over her shoulder and making for the stairs, “and then get some sleep. We can’t give anyone hell if you’re zombies in the morning.” She paused with her hand on the doorknob and shot a smirk over her shoulder, glasses glinting. “More so than usual, I mean.”
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