re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?
Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)
Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.
Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.
(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)
How it Started.
The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…
Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.
So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.
But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.
Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.
I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.
Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.
Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.
(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)
So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.
(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—
1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.
2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)
Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:
PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.
It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.
(As for Volo, well.
Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.
Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)
(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)
(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.
Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)
When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.
Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.
Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.
THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA
If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.
((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))
(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))
2K notes
·
View notes
Bucky’s chest felt hollow, like his insides had been ripped out with a single sentence: “He went down swinging, John.”
As soon as he returned to Thorpe Abbots, he felt nothing but sympathetic looks and smiles directed his way. His fellow companions and friends, all telling him how sorry they were—like they all had accepted it. As if they all were convinced Gale was dead.
He wasn’t. He couldn’t.
The coldness of the cockpit barely mattered as he gulped down the hard alcohol; it burned down his throat, falling directly into that dark hole in his stomach. He was trying to fill in the empty space that had taken over him since he made that call back in London but nothing was helping.
He would know, wouldn’t he? If Gale was dead. He would’ve felt something; a piece of his heart being torn apart as the other man drew his last breath. It couldn’t be. Buck had to be alive.
John hit his forehead with the palm of his hand, trying to remove the imagined flashes of Gale’s possible demise. His mind had always been like this, too vivid, always trying to show Bucky scenarios that hadn’t happened yet, that maybe would never happen—but even if he knew that it was nothing but foul play from his own head, he couldn’t remove the asphyxiating pressure in his chest.
He gulped down some more alcohol, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. If he concentrated hard enough, John could still make out the soft texture of Gale’s skin under the early morning sunrise. His eyes would glint in the soft light, cheeks rosy from the cool English wind. John would stare sometimes; would catch himself absorbed by the movement of Buck’s mouth as he spoke.
How could he be dead when Bucky still had to tell him he meant everything for him; that he was his lifeline, keeping him whole in this terror?
John felt like shouting.
53 notes
·
View notes