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afrofuturisticality-blog · 6 years

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A first look at Afrofuturism

My introduction into Afrofuturism began with Black Panther, Marvel’s blockbuster hit directed by Ryan Coogler with an almost entirely black cast. I am glad that it was my beginning because I thought the movie was not only fabulous, but it was also inspiring to me as a black woman. Although, even as the character Erik Killmonger drew out a sense of sympathy and support as the little boy left behind, his reaction/actions were indicative of the stereotype a black man is expected to fulfill: one of hated, violence, and revenge. I was happy to see that blacks were not portrayed as the violent beasts that Colonizer propaganda has stereotyped us to be, but instead capable of thinking beyond that and able to be forgiving and supportive, even to and despite our oppressors. Even as an enslaved people and since, the black race has been forgiving and willing to work with the Colonizers to create a better world for all, even though that has never been acknowledged. Control and fear of retaliation has always been on the minds of the colonizers because they know they are deserving of feeling the wrath of the black man and others they have viciously oppressed.

Brilliantly done, Black Panther grew from a comic series written for Marvel and created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, while Reggie Huggins, a black man, imagined and created the character Shuri. Huggins told our class when he visited that he wanted both girls and boys to be able to have a Halloween costume of a leader of Wakanda—Halloween costumes being the manifestation of the dreams children hold of being a super hero. He made Shuri strong, smart, funny, and able to fight as one who has been trained for true leadership since birth. Comics have often inspired young boys to reach for the stars and dream big. Shuri shows little girls that they can too. Huggins created Shuri for his animated Black Panther TV series written for Marvel. This movie helped me to imagine a Wakanda, a place where we (a nation of Black people, made up of many nations of Black people who came together in harmony) were technologically advanced, as perhaps we could have been. I especially loved the ending where T’Challa was questioned as to what Wakanda could possibly have to offer. Based on the propaganda the world has been fed about Africa and Black people, the question was expected, but knowing the answer could leave no doubt as to the superiority of their development. The feeling it gave me was tremendous.

Luckily, my Afrofuturism class began just after Black Panther’s release in the theaters and I went to see it a second time and was followed by a panel discussion including Mr. Huggins, Ruth E. Carter, the costume designer of the movie, and my professor: T. Due, an afro-futurism writer, recent Octavia Butler award winner, and a celebrity in her own right. I usually refuse to re-watch anything until enough time has passed for me to completely forget it, but I knew immediately after the movie ended that I wanted to see it again. Even now I would love to see it a third time. We were assigned the task of watching Episodes One through Six of The Black Panther TV series written and produced by Reggie Huggins, ending our Black Panther ride. The first novel the instructor had us read was Octavia Butler’s Dawn. As I began reading it, I felt as if I was watching a horror movie and became anxious. I considered dropping the course as I had dropped the same instructor’s previous course before my first day of class when I discovered it was going to have horror movies that I would be required to watch. I had many nightmares years ago when Alien came out, and to this day, I still remember the scene where the alien popped out of the man’s belly. I had nightmares for weeks and I do not watch any type of horror movies. I had wanted to stay in the class last quarter because almost everyone I knew at this school and all of my friends were in it, but I was afraid that I would not be able to get any work done because I was afraid I would have nightmares.

However, with the book, Dawn, I continued to read and discovered it left the scary behind and transformed into the weird. It was thought-provoking and curious. While it, like Alien, involved extraterrestrials, it was written in such a way as not to incite fear, but rather a sense of ewww – a shuddering in my soul. My daughter says I was “squicked.” However, it was very intriguing and I found it difficult to put down. It was an easy read when compared to the textbooks I am accustomed to reading daily, yet it too causes one to think and consider an alternative to life as we know now it.

Another discovery I’ve made is that W.E.B. DuBois wrote fiction even while a political activist, scholar, civil rights leader, historian and Pan Africanist. He wrote an Afro-futuristic short story named The Comet. It was very good also and like Space Traders—a short story written by Derrick Bell and produced for TV by Reggie Huggins—they each drew a sense that most if not all Black people engaging either would immediately believe they knew the answer to the question presented in each piece. I have found this new genre (new to me) to be based in reality and intriguing, while imagining an alternative future—one filled with the unimaginable. I remember when there were no computers or cell phones and I see those imaginings in Afrofuturism not so far off, as the world and its inhabitants continue to evolve in ways that include the unexpected.

Of course our professor is very enthusiastic about our class and she has tons of reading, watching movies, movie shorts, and music videos for us to engage. She also showed us Janelle Monae’s short film Many Moons featuring Monae’s alter ego an android named Cindi Mayweather. It brought to mind once again how reality based this genre actually is with its lyrics depicting life and the realization that Saudi Arabia, a country that has historically been oppressive to women and so remains, has given citizenship to the first non-human entity—an android named Sophia. Immediately, when I heard about Sophia, I thought about how the women of Saudi Arabia must feel knowing that a machine has been designated as superior to them, and wondered what that would mean for Blacks. What new ideas have been or will be sparked in the oppression of Blacks? But I am too busy to let my mind go there as each day brings new concerns. With five classes this quarter and such a huge amount of material to cover, I am thankful that Afrofuturism has peaked my interest and it feels like I am taking a break when engaging the material, something new to me.

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imagine-loki · 7 years

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Hail to the King

TITLE: Hail to the King CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Ch. 1- Children Will Be Children AUTHOR: artemisnightingale216 ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Thor and Loki have a younger sister, Astrid, who was not much younger than Loki. Growing up, she was always very close to both her brothers, acting as a catalyst that kept them together even through tough times, though she typically stayed close to Loki’s side. Though it went against Frigga’s wishes, she even trained alongside them and raised as a warrior as well as a lady… RATING: M for Mature and Adult Themes NOTES/WARNINGS: Super duper happy with the feedback in such a short amount of time once again! Thank you to all of you that read it! Much appreciated! If you did not have the chance to read the Prologue to Hail to the King, I will be putting that link down below. Now, once again, as it is based off a Marvel movie, there will be violence; I don’t intend to put in much in this chapter as I plan to gradually build us up from the children’s childhoods all the way up to the first Thor and then on because I find it a bit unfair that we see very little about their lives before then aside from a few short scenes. Plus, we do need a bit of background on my OC. So, let us begin!

EDIT: Sorry this took so long! I got started on it and then busy with everything else that could go wrong in my life. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Link to Prologue

Song for the Chapter- Under One Sky by The Tenors

“Buona. Ora preparatevi. Il rituale è pronto per iniziare.”

The three of them circled around Unna and raised their hands palms up so they were facing the sky. She did not know what they had planned, but she knew it would not end well for her or her child.

“I think it best if we end our story there, my lieges,” a man said, his body clad in a great suite of gold and dark red armor with a sword nearly as big as he was clasped between his hands, the blade of said sword inserted deep in a raised dais, his dark skin a contrast to his golden armor and eyes; a helm sat atop his head, looking very much like a giant bird caught in mid-flight. The dais sat in the center of a high ceilinged dome, its interior and exterior matching his attire, an ever spinning spire circling around its top and appearing every few minutes in front of and behind him in the openings, one leading out to a dead drop and the other leading to the bridge outside. His voice, deep and soothing, sounded strange now that he was not speaking in a foreign tongue.

“What? No! It was just getting good! Do not leave it there!” a young boy, round in the face and a bit chubby, pleaded from where he sat on the steps leading down into the dome. He was small in comparison to the might of the man on the dais, but he still had time to grow. Instead of armor, he donned a simple light blue tunic, dark blue and red up the front vest with a red belt around his thin waist, and dark blue pants with the legs tucked into his brown boots. Brown cuff like bracelets were tied to his wrists and red fabric had been added to his boots to look like lacing.

“Forgive my impertinence, but I do not think it wise to tell the remainder to children so young. Perhaps when you are all older, we can revisit this story again,” the man clad in gold and dark red smiled slightly, the action partially hidden by his neatly trimmed beard.

“Then what was the point in starting it, Heimdall?” the young boy asked, his bright blue eyes conveying disappointment as he placed his chin in his palm and his elbow on his knee.

“You asked for a story, my prince, and I did not think you would appreciate one about happy forest elves. Besides, there are no real endings. There are only the places where you stop the story,” Heimdall chuckled lightly. “On top of that, your sister does not seem as fond of the story as you do.”

The young blue eyed boy looked behind him to the small child in a short sleeved white dress, the hem trailing to the floor, that was simple but fit for royalty, her long platinum blonde almost white hair pulled back from her face to half divide the shoulder length strands in a braid. She clung to the sleeve of his tunic and only one of her ice blue eyes, slightly wide with fear, were visible from behind his body where she hid. “She can handle it. Go on, Astrid. Tell him you can handle it.” He tried to coax her out from behind him on the steps, but she only tried to hide herself further.

“Let her be, Thor,” the dark haired boy sitting next to the blue eyed lad said in aggravation at his brothers insistent coaxing. His attire was very similar to that of Thor’s, but where his older wore blue and red, he wore grey and green. “If she does not want to hear the rest of the story, do not make her.”

“What troubles you, Loki? Too frightened to hear the rest yourself so you use a little girl as a shield?” Thor taunted, turning away from Astrid to shove at Loki’s shoulder. Loki nearly fell from the steps due to the force of the playful shove but righted himself before he could; his dark green eyes shown in low the low light of the dome, anger blazing in his irises as he was about to retort when Thor’s neatly trimmed and once formally styled blonde hair was suddenly pulled with such force that it drew his head back. “Ow! Astrid, you traitor!”

Astrid giggled happily as she leapt from her seat on the steps and darted away from Thor as he turned to grab her. She was past Loki, down the stairs, and around the perimeter of the dome by the time Thor stood to give chase. She was tiny compared to her brothers, especially to Loki who had a good inch or two over Thor, but she found she could be quick if she tried hard enough. She giggled again as Thor ran after her and she ran as well, trying to look for a place to hide as she went but quickly finding that there were very limited options. There was Heimdall, his great height and build sure to hide her tiny body, but surely her brother would see her. Then there was Loki, tall enough to hide her height but too slender even with her small frame. It seemed her only hope was to make it across the Rainbow Bridge before he could catch her, but that was a long shot even with speed on her side, the bridge much too extensive for a child. Even some of the warriors had to ride on horseback just to make it quickly across the great distance.

Astrid was nearing the steps to the entrance and decided to throw caution to the wind. She gracefully leaped over the steps, her dress flowing behind her as she did, and easily landed on the flat surface of the polished marble. Loki was clearly in awe of her display and cheered her on as she passed him while Heimdall smirked and remained standing on the dais with his hands ever on the hilt of his great golden sword.

“Come back and face me, you coward!” Thor called after her as he shook his fist and bounded up the stairs. Loki pulled a mischievous smile as he stuck his foot out and tripped him. Thor fell face first onto the polished floor, leaving a large spot of saliva where his lips made contact. Loki laughed and jumped up to follow after Astrid as their brother wiped the spittle from his face. “You will come to regret that, brother! Just wait until I get my hands on you both!” He jumped back up and rushed after both his younger siblings.

“And that is why I am forever grateful to my mother for not having more than one child,” Heimdall laughed to himself, glad the rambunctious young ones had found a distraction and forgotten the dark tale he had weaved for them.

“Face your fates, milksops! Prepare to feel the wrath of the future king of Asgard!” Thor yelled after them as they raced down the Rainbow Bridge, the bridge lighting up beneath where their feet connected with it.

The Rainbow Bridge, named for the bright colors embedded in the very material it was made from, was designed after a suspension bridge and was as old as Asgard itself. The bridge was hung high above an ever flowing sea so clear one could look down and see nearly see the bottom, the water eventually dropping off into the remaining other realms in the form of a magnificent waterfall; sometimes the sea was calm, but other times it was a tempest that most dared not venture into. At one end were the gates to Asgard, the realm eternal, a prosperous glittering city of gold surrounded by the sea and lush greenery. On the other was the dome, more commonly known as the entrance to the Bifrost, in which Heimdall stood on his dais; the Bifrost acted as a link from Asgard to the other realms and Heimdall its keeper, no one as of late getting in or out without his knowledge. Heimdall had watched over Asgard and the other realms for as long as anyone could remember, a puzzle no one had yet thought to solve.

Loki laughed humorously as he leapt onto one of pillars connected to the support beams that held up the bridge and used his momentum to swing himself around so he was facing Thor, his hand wrapped around the thin pillar and his foot braced against it to keep himself from slipping, Astrid having to stop and turn back when she realized he was no longer at her side. “In your wildest dreams, brother! I will be king of Asgard!”

Thor laughed boisterously in return and leapt onto the pillar as well, standing so he was on the opposite side as Loki. “I do not need to dream of reality! One day I shall sit where Father does and command the Nine Realms as I see fit!”

The two always seemed to argue when the throne of Asgard was concerned, but it was all just friendly banter. They were too young to truly understand the weight of what it meant to be king, but even so both Thor and Loki found themselves in competition for it. Being the two sons in the family, that meant one day one of them would be chosen and given the crown. The only question that remained on their minds, however, was which one it would be as their father had repeatedly told them both they were destined to be kings but only one of them could rule. It seemed unfair to Astrid, but she would likely either be married off to the prince of another realm and become a queen herself or wed to a high standing member of the court, as were traditions in their realm.

Loki smirked at Thor. “We shall see.”

“Astrid, do tell our ill-minded brother who will be king when the time comes. Me,” Thor pointed to himself, “or him,” he gestured toward Loki.

“Oh, yes, dear sister. Please do,” Loki nodded. “Tell our feeble-minded sibling whom will be king.”

Astrid looked back and forth between her two brothers with heavy thoughts burdening her expression. As far as her developing mind could discern, they might has well have asked her to decide then and there who was getting the crown rather than their father. On the one hand, there was Thor, the eldest son and already gifted in the arts of combat. On the other was Loki, though smaller in size but not height, he instead excelled when it came to the academics but was still a worthy foe when it came to battle. Both had much to learn for either of them to become king, however.

“Why did we bother asking her? She is not even old enough to sit at the table with us when we eat. How can she even know which of us to pick?” Thor rolled his eyes when it took too long for her to answer. Astrid looked down in guilt; she really had tried, but she knew no matter who she chose it would only hurt the other one’s feelings.

“Would you at least give her time? Not everything needs to happen when you say it does,” Loki glared at Thor. Astrid smiled, feeling a bit better knowing that at least one of her brothers did not find her inadequate.

“It will when I am king,” Thor smirked. Astrid and Loki rolled their eyes; it was like talking to a brick wall when he was around. Astrid looked out over the unconfined sea and onto the horizon where the sun shone brightly high in the sky, sending its warm rays down before it began its slow descent. She easily judged the time and rushed over to Thor. She tugged on his pant leg as he and Loki continued their little spat from where they still stood on the pillar.

“Honestly, Thor, must you be so thickheaded? How can you ever hope to rule when you fail to see reason,” Loki was saying as he turned around on the pillar so he was facing back toward the dome.

“One hardly needs reason to rule. Ruling means having an iron fist so the other realms will learn to fear you and a strong will to avoid temptation,” Thor scoffed in reply as he shoved at Loki and tried to swat Astrid off of him as she started patting at his leg hurriedly.

Loki righted himself before he could fall from the pillar and possibly the bridge. “If that were the case, then surely you would fail.”

“Say what you will, but it only makes sense for me to be king because-.” Thor looked down at Astrid in question as her tugs became more desperate. “What?” She pointed toward the sky and he followed her direction, squinting at the giant ball of fire and seeing spots before his vision when he looked back. “What? It is just the sun.” She jumped up and down, waving her arm in urgent motions. “Out with it, girl! What are you on about?” She grunted in annoyance and stomped her feet. “It appears our sister has gone mad.”

Loki raised his own brow in question at his younger sisters display before looking up at the sky to see what the commotion was about. He gasped. “It is already mid-day! We will be late for the family portrait if we do not hurry!”

“And Mother is still sore with us for missing the last one! Who knows what she will do this time?” Thor said worriedly as he rubbed his knuckles at the memory of their previous punishment. “Hurry! Back to the castle!” He jumped down from the pillar and resumed running across the bridge, Astrid and Loki following close behind. “Good thing I remembered the portrait, right?”

Astrid growled in agitation while Loki shook his head. It was a habit of Thors to take other people’s ideas and act like they were his own. It was a habit they hoped he would one day break and some day soon. Their father claimed it was a worthy trait of a ruler, the ability to take an idea for oneself, but their mother called it the mark of narcissist. The poor children were horribly confused and not sure what to call it at that point, but of course Thor was quick to agree with their father.

“Worry not, sister. We will get him back,” Loki said quietly to Astrid. She tilted her head at him. “Just leave it to me.” He winked and smiled playfully at her, making her giggle.

“If you two are done acting like infant girls, I am going to beat you both to our horses!” Thor called out behind over his shoulder. “I will even beat you with one arm behind my back!”

“Running does not even require both arms!” Loki called ahead just before he and Astrid passed him.

“Hey, no fair! Come back!” Thor pouted.

Astrid laughed in delight as she kept pace with Loki, her long braided hair thumping against her back while his once sleek style coming out of place. Her long dress should have gotten in the way, but she had mastered moving quickly in the flowing garbs. He had a slight advantage over her in pants and boots, but even that did not give him the upper hand. He found himself evenly matched with her speed if not slightly behind.

“Come on, Astrid! You need to do better than that! I am going to win!” Loki smiled, his long but thin legs pumping with ferocity. Astrid humphed in reply before working her tiny little legs and feet faster as she pumped her arms in time, her back straightening so it was horizontal with the ground; she had seen the great warriors do the same during tournaments and had been practicing ever since. “Huh?” He was surprised to see her leave his peripheral vision and instead shoot forward with great momentum. “How did you even do that?” She expected him to pout like Thor had, but instead she heard him call out, “Go, Astrid! Go!” She looked back and realized why.

Thor was coming up fast beside Loki, huffing and puffing and pumping his limbs faster than either of them thought possible. His face was turning red from the exertion and his eye were wide in their sockets from the strain he was putting on himself. Any hope he once had of keeping his hair neat for the portrait was long gone by now as it whipped about his face and behind him. “I… am… going… to… catch… you!” Even his voice sounded hoarse and strained.

“Come on, Astrid! You can do it!” Loki called as Thor passed him. “Run, Astrid! Run harder than you ever have before!” Astrid smiled back at him and nodded before facing forward again.

“Do not… root for… the girl!” Thor nearly wheezed. Astrid could hear him just behind her now, his boots heavy against the glass like material that made up the floor of the bridge, the lights sparking beneath their feet barely able to keep up with their quick strides. “Here I come! You are going to… lose! Prepare to taste defeat!” She could hear his laughter despite his strained breathing and decided she had had enough. “Victory is mine!”

Astrid smirked as she saw Thor step into sight just before she leaned forward and was no long by his side. Thor looked around in shock, thinking for just a second that he had actually passed her, until he looked forward and saw her standing by the horses, her hand gripping the saddle as she tried to catch her breath. “What!?” he shouted in exasperation as he too reached the specially bred animals.

“Ha! You were beaten! And by our little sister, too!” Loki laughed as he joined them.

Thor’s face turned even redder than before. “Yeah… well… So were you!”

“This fact does not hurt my ego,” Loki continued to laugh, having to hold his side. “Good job, Astrid. You made Thor eat your dust!” Astrid smiled at the praise and hummed in happiness.

Thor clicked his tongue. “She just got lucky, is all. Plus, the sun was in my eyes!”

“Uh-huh. Sure it was,” Loki rolled his eyes with a smile. “Oh no! The sun! We really will be late now if we do not hurry!” Astrid and Thor looked worried now. “Hurry! We have to get back to the castle before Mother finds out!” They rushed up to their designated horse and mounted it with haste.

Each child rode a horse that fairly matched their own physical appearances with harnesses and saddles that went with their attire. Thor, of course, rode a golden stallion with a stark white mane and tail; the only problem was that the horse was as chubby as its rider and the combined weight of the two slowed them down fairly often. Loki’s own horse was a cross breed between a friesian and a hackney, the end result being a colt that looked rather skinny and frail, with a coat, mane, and tail that was just as black as the child on its back. The foal for Astrid, however, was a hard one to find as she was so small; rather than a horse that matched her, she had to settle with the foal of a welsh pony or be forced to ride with her mother on outings because it was the only type the queen would agree to. It had upset Astrid, of course, to be given such a smaller riding companion, but a pony was better than nothing and she kept her tongue.

Thor shouted, “Yah!” to his his stallion and off it went running. Loki gave his two gentle kicks to the side and he followed after. Astrid simply clicked her tongue and the pony trotted along; unlike her rider, the small animal wasn’t very fast, though it did try to keep up with the two larger foals. Thor and Loki had to keep stopping there horse when they saw how far behind the two were and wait for them only to have to do so again not too long after.

“Can you not make that pipsqueak go any faster? Mother is going to wring our necks as it is,” Thor groaned after the fifth time his sister caught up. Astrid looked down in guilt and he felt a stab of remorse. “Well, we at least need to find a way back home faster. One that will at least not get us into as much trouble.”

The three children thought long and hard, but it was Loki who quickly came up with a quick and easy plan. “I know a way.” Thor and Astrid looked happy, but after having followed him to this quick route, they realized their mistake. His way had them galloping straight through the city square, which was bustling with people walking to and fro around the market to do their shopping for their masters and families. There was little harm a pony could do; the little filly simply avoided the carts and stands or ducked under them. The colts had no idea what to do around so many foreign objects and various amounts of people, so they stumbled about like newborns and would run off again when they knocked something over.

“This was a terrible idea!” Thor called over the shrieking commoners and his horse neighing in protest.

“I think it was a perfect idea!” Loki said in merriment as his colt somehow managed to jump over some crates of vegetables and keep running.

“Why did we ever listen to you?” Thor wondered. He nearly fell from his foal when it had to side step around a woman carrying a large basket, but he was able to right himself by wrapping his arms around its neck and holding on tightly.

“Because my ideas do not end in disaster like yours do,” Loki laughed as Thor came up beside him. Astrid tried to get their attention, but they were unable to see her in time before they went crashing into a stall.

Frigga stood before her three children with a look of irritation on her face, her foot tapping against the floor as she stared them down. She had hardly asked much of them; it was simple enough for children to keep themselves clean for one afternoon and show up in time to meet with the painter so they could have a new family portrait taken. It seemed, however, that her children were against keeping out of trouble.

She had been pacing in the small room they had designated for the portrait, trying her best to wait patiently, but it was past time the children were due to arrive and the servants were having no luck finding them in the palace. She knew they had snuck off even after she asked them not to, but she understood the curiosity of a child and had decided to allow them a bit of time to be late. The more time passed, however, the more her patience ran thin. Her husband had already had to excuse himself to attend his duties and would likely not return even if she asked for him, so there was no hope of him being with them for it. There was only so long she could keep the painter there; it was for the royal family, so they were top priority, but even he had other things to do than wait around and do nothing.

Worry had just started to set in when there was a knock at the door and a guard walked in. She immediately feared the worst until he stepped aside and she saw them standing in the doorway. Her relief was quickly replaced with shock when she saw the state they were and then switched to her current emotion when the guard explained what they had been doing before being dismissed.

After crashing into a stall, Thor and Loki had fallen into a chicken coop and landed in a puddle of mud. They were now covered in the brown filth and feathers were stuck all over their bodies, like someone had tried to turn them into birds. Perhaps it was best Odin had left the room, otherwise he would already be yelling at them, but only be halfway through. Astrid had somehow managed to make it out of the ordeal without a speck of dirt on her; the only blemish she had was windblown hair, but she wasn’t helping the situation by picking feathers off her brothers and blowing them into the air to see how far she could make them fly.

Frigga sighed and asked, “Well, do we have anything to say for ourselves?”

Loki and Thor glanced at each other before the later of the two shrugged and said with a trying smile, “You look lovely today, Mother?”

It was certainly not a lie. Their mother did look lovely, but then again, she always did.

Frigga was a tall, statuesque woman with an hourglass figure, her hips wider than her chest. She had once been thin, but raising three children could make anyone gain a bit of weight; she had still managed to keep most of her figure, though. Her hair, a dark golden color, was long enough that it fell well past her ribs and took her handmaidens a great deal of time to style it. For that occasion, they had given her a thick ring of curls, parted to the left, that thickened as it came around to meet at the back of her head while the rest had been left straight and placed over her right shoulder. She wore a long sleeved slightly off the shoulder dress that touched the floor, the color a beautiful light silver, with the front half split down the middle to reveal the layer underneath and flow behind her like a cap. Four strands of jewels had been sown onto the bands around her shoulders and her earrings were a shimmering topaz that matched her hair. Her eyes were a stunning hazel that shown stern but gentle in the light.

Frigga hardly seemed impressed by the complement. “Anything else?”

Loki and Thor sighed. “We are sorry, Mother.”

Frigga looked at them a moment before their guilt ridden expressions got to her and made her sigh as well. “I suppose I cannot really blame you for trying to make it here on time, even if you did break the rules about taking your horses into the city.” She dismissed the painter and told him she would be in contact to reschedule once again. “Just promise me it will not happen again and we can forget this happened for now.”

All three of them nodded before Loki asked, “Are you going to tell Father?”

“Well, that would hardly be forgetting about it, would it not?” Frigga raised a brow, smiling as they had a quiet celebration. “Now, you two go and get that mud off you. You have your training exercises starting shortly.”

“Thank you, Mother!” Thor and Loki smiled as they turned and ran out the door.

Astrid tried to follow after them, but Frigga quickly picked her up and held her in her arms. “Not you, young lady. There is a different set of exercises you will be doing.”

“Why?” Astrid asked as she was carried out of the room.

“Because ladies of the court do not engage in activities involving weapons, dear,” Frigga explained.

“Why?” Astrid asked again.

“Because weapons are not a tool a lady should use,” Frigga went on.

“Why?”

“Astrid, darling,” Frigga sighed as they entered one of the smaller libraries in the castle and she set her daughter down in a chair at the table, kneeling so she could face her better, “I know you love to spend time with your brothers, but there are things men do and things that women do. Men protect the homes and go off to war. Women study, learn, and take care of the children.” She made a sour face. “I know it may not seem fair now, but one day you will understand. Women are simply not meant to fight.”

“Then maybe I do not want to be a woman,” Astrid crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Alright. Well, until the day you are fully grown, you are still considered a child, so you still have to do as I say,” Frigga said just as stubbornly before standing and walking over to a bookshelf. “One day you will thank me for this.”

“I will take your word for it,” Astrid grumbled under her breath as her mother came back and placed a stack of books in front of her.

“Now, you are not to leave this table until each book has been read. I will be back to check on you later,” Frigga said sternly as she turned to leave. She looked back to see her daughter regarding the books with a look of boredom. “Study, Astrid.”

Doing as she was told, Astrid sighed and took the first book from the stack. The books were hardly thick; they were were no bigger than the width of two of her fingers, but to a child, it was like her mother expected her to read the entire library. It was rather boring, at first, reading a book on the history of the realms, but the more she read the more she wanted to know. It was interesting to learn how reacted to a situation compared to another, how they held court, or how some had no court at all. In some realms, they were ruled not by monarchs, but on justice and diplomacy alone. There were even realms that had no armies, believing that some matters were best handled with peace and understanding.

It felt as if barely any time had passed before she was done and on to the next book. Its pages were filled with texts on proper etiquette, dining, and dance. She was sure she would be bored of that quickly, but found it interesting that it was considered rude to refuse mead, yet one should drink it in moderation, and at a formal dance, the host and his children have the first choice of dance partners. The pictures of the dance moves and the words describing how they were executed had her performing the steps with a smile on her face.

Then came a book about the creatures that roamed the lands of Asgard. Trolls, wargs, and arvaks were things she was familiar with, but there were some that sent chills down her spine. Draugr were beings said to have come back from the dead while still in their grave; they mostly just protected any treasure that was buried with their corpses and could die once again after decaying, being burned, or otherwise destroyed, but she had no intention of crossing paths with one anytime soon. The Nökken was a being who could change his shape and would use his ability to lure people into the water and drown them; he also had a nasty habit of peering his eyes out of the water and watching people as they passed by. It was creature that typically lived in freshwater, and she made sure to make a mental note to keep a sharp eye out for peering eyes the next time they visited the lake. The Mara appeared as a skinny young woman, dressed in a nightgown, with pale skin and long black hair and nails. As sand they could slip through the slightest crack in the wood of a wall and terrorize the sleeping by “riding” on their chest, thus giving them nightmares; they would sometimes ride cattle that, when touched by the Mara, would have their hair or fur tangled and energy drained, while trees would curl up and wilt. She tried not to dwell on that book for too long.

Astrid began to realize that her mother had been right. Before long, she had finished the stack and was already moving on to new ones. She scanned shelf after shelf, trying to find any book she might enjoy that she could get her hands on.

When Frigga returned some hours later with one of her handmaidens trailing behind her, they found the table piled with books but her daughter gone. “Astrid?” she called in worry when she looked around the room and still could not see her.

“I am over here, Mother,” Astrid called back.

Frigga felt immediate relief as she walked behind one of the shelves to find Astrid wedges between it and another, even more books surrounding her as her eyes scanned quickly but deftly over the pages. “And what do we have here?”

“I found a book on stars, Mother. Did you know that there was once one so big, that it imploded on itself after only a few hundred years after its creation and took three other stars with it?” Astrid asked as she spoke but kept her eyes on the words.

“I did not,” Frigga shook her head with a slight smile. “I see someone found a new passion today.”

“Perhaps,” Astrid shrugged, not wanting to outright admit that her mother was right.

“Enough reading for today, darling. It is time for supper,” Frigga gestured toward the door with her hand.

Astrid looked up sadly. “But I have not finished yet.”

“You can come back tomorrow, if you like,” Frigga suggested. “You will be able to read as much as you want then.” Astrid smiled and nodded as she closed her book and placed it on the floor before running up to her mother’s waiting hand. She instructed her handmaiden to replace the scattered reading material in its proper place and led the young child toward the mess hall, grateful she had found something to distract her from the idea of learning how to fight, unaware that there were in fact book on martial arts in the library.

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dialogue-with-varyu · 7 years

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SUPERNATURAL THE ANIMATION: A Dissection of Dean’s Failed Characterization & Design (PART 1 - The Technicals)

I have a lot on my chest about the anime that I couldn’t really get into in both of my last posts since the topic of what makes the anime series so cringe-worthy is a very intricate one, making the explanation of it all become a SERIES OF ESSAYS. So please read my previous installments before getting into this one because I will be referencing those a lot:

SUPERNATURAL THE ANIMATION: A THESIS OVERVIEW ON JAPANESE ANIME PRODUCTION & CHARACTER DESIGN

SUPERNATURAL THE ANIMATION: THE IMPORTANCE COLOR DESIGN BRINGS TO VISUAL TONE

But anyway, let’s talk about Dean. I’m gonna talk about Dean.

I will talk about Dean because Sam was portrayed pretty okay in the anime and it’s really Dean’s characterization that strikes a chord with a lot of fans of the original Supernatural series. (However I will consider a separate Sam essay to those in favor of it.)

But I haven’t really seen a lot of people put into words about makes them feel the way they do. So what’s the problem with Dean?

Refresher:

While I understand this distinction, I think that we can all agree that the overall interpretation of Dean suck balls and I’d like to argue that:

rather than misinterpreting Dean’s character, the writers were more focused on one of Dean’s major facades and ran with it.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

First, I’d like to address the elephant in the room: Why an anime series?

Why did Supernatural garner enough attention to GET an anime series? What is so special about Supernatural AND anime that a large group of creatives and investors were willing to marry the two?

Honestly, that question is big enough for another essay on it’s own. But the bottom line is:

Anime is watched for the melodrama.

Nuance and subtitles are more akin to live action film since the culture around the different intricacies of a story have larger factors that contribute to it. (i.e, it doesn’t matter what’s written because an actor may just ad-lib it, Murphey’s Law, etc.)

So basically, when you have an animated show what you see is what you get by convention. There really is no use arguing over what is canon and what is not because, unlike an actor, decisions and change of mind can’t be attributed in the moment when it comes to character performance. People are more likely to question the mindset of a decision behind a scene when it’s animated more often than leaving it to the death of the author.

But it’s because of this that anime often has namely traits of exaggeration: screaming characters crying about their passion in the heat of battle, long ass internal monologues, “-dere” archetypes, the works.

Which means that anime characters are usually walking talking hyperbolic symbols. (Whether or not you enjoy this is usually the deciding factor between anime fans and those who are not.)

And this ties directly into Dean.

Because Dean in the anime series is an exaggeration of himself from the original show.

Rather, an exaggeration of one specific facade:

The facade Dean pulls up in season one episode 1. The fake Dean that tends to overcompensate his insecurities with bravado.

WHY this scene in particular is one that actually makes sense.

Mostly because this scene IS a if not THE root scene that cemented Dean Winchester’s starting point launching endless possibilities of character traits to be explored for seasons to come. It’s a highly impacted scene that’s very memorable, both in it’s first impressions and as a point of reference for his development.

I infer that the writers of the anime series saw this and built upon their own impressions of it. Namely, they saw this facade and thought this was the True Dean Winchester. (Which, to those who have watched past season 2, know is very far from the truth.)

So how did they write Dean Winchester?

Dean Winchester is perceived to be like a generic anime bad boy

(I say “perceived” since by all means the Supernatural anime is a reinterpretation with very deliberate changes.)

What I’m talking about are those “thug” type bullies in every school centered anime show.

And while I make the claim that the writers may have built off of the scene from the pilot in painting a picture of Dean’s character in their heads, I’m also led to believe that this decision to have Dean come off as a “thug” is less of a conscious choice...

...and more of a conventional one.

Because nothing fits Fake Bravado Dean like Generic Anime Thug Dude when it comes to a script laden with anime-like tropes.

(To make a more compelling dissection of the writer’s true interpretation of Dean SPECIFICALLY would require me to rewatch and analyze ALL of the anime’s original standalone episodes.

...for the sake of brevity and the fact that I don’t want to rewatch any of the anime’s episodes in it’s entirety because I can’t stand even 5 seconds of this animated drivel I Am Not Going to Do That unless a lot of people ask about it or if people just wanna see me suffer.)

But okay, it’s sort of weird to gauge the errors of Dean’s characterization when this anime series nearly follows the original show’s 1st and 2nd season’s storylines verbatim.

Now that I think about it, it’s even weirder to be so allergic to an interpretation of a character when the source material is being 99.9% faithfully adapted--especially with the same lines and set up. So what gives?

What makes anime Dean’s characterization so off from the original to a drastic degree?

The “mischaracterization” is greatly tied into Dean’s character design and the way he emotes--which affects him greatly on the narrative of the anime series as a whole.

I already criticized the character designs in the lack of coherence in color design as well as execution narratively, but the latter still stands to be a huge major problem since it does just that.

Affect the narrative.

Which means it also affects the characters and the themes.

Which ties back again to Dean being perceived as an anime thug.

And I know this because Dean makes the same goddamn faces as an anime thug.

(In this case I’ll be referencing Space Dandy since I can’t find generic anime examples of side characters that embody this profile despite this stereotype and it’s mannerisms invading vast amounts of shows. However anyone who has seen enough anime will know what I’m talking about. And again, the “look” given by the artistic nuances/techniques of the character design of the anime series is not very original.)

You know what, as an aside I’m just going to throw in the fact that Space Dandy’s “look” is very similar to to the spn anime down to the BL shadows in which Dandy is compared with Redline

And that Jessica is totally generically designed

Anyway, this extends further than Dean’s facial expressions alone.

It extends to his wardrobe which totally starts to unhinge Dean’s persona. oddly enough.

So here’s a round of nit-picking

Why in god’s name is Dean wearing sunglasses indoors? He already went through an entire spiel about ineffectiveness at night

and it’s not like having it indoors makes it any less ridiculous. And yes, he does wear them again in later seasons both unironically and ironically

But these cues of character insight (that people have written far better meta for) is in the context of later seasons and I highly doubt the anime production team could’ve predicted any of this so I’m just going to have a giant ????? over this.

Back to this awful screenshot again.

But seriously, anyone shirtless in the snow deserves to die of hypothermia.

Dean is the last person to feel comfortable with minimal clothing due to years of sexual harassment/assault from CREATURES more often than not

Even more so whenever Dean is naked, it’s used more for vulnerability over titillation:

I hate this stupid screenshot.

It is awful, why? Because anime characters rarely stray from their trope mannerisms unless the story calls for it, or the animators dedicate some time to create impressive sakuga for novelty’s sake. If Dean has body language like this now, that mean’s he’s likely going to exhibit it again no matter what the context is in terms of story or character.

Leading to this abomination.

I know what you are doing. I get it. I KNOW.

I KNOW YOU’RE DRAWING DEAN THIS WAY BECAUSE APPARENTLY TO YOU DEAN IS AN ANIME THUG WHICH MEANS ANIME THUGS EXHIBIT THIS KIND OF UNCARING BODY LANGUAGE BUT NEED WE FORGET THAT DEAN LOVES HIS CAR MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF

HAVING HIS SHOES AGAINST THE SEAT OR ANYWHERE NEAR THE LEATHER IS THE SAME AS DEFECATING ON IT. ARE YOU SERIOUS RN??? THAT’S LIKE THE ONE THING DEAN WINCHESTER IS ALL ABOUT AND IS SOMETHING THAT SHOULD NOT BE FORGOTTEN ESPECIALLY WHEN IT CAME TO DEVELOPMENTS OF DEMON!DEAN

This...this shit I can’t forgive. This is so absent-minded it physically hurts me. I can’t be the only one bothered by this.

Addendum: I don’t even really care if that’s NOT the impala (in this episode of the anime Sam and Dean were thrown into the backseat of a police car.) I still don’t think Dean would EVER exhibit this sort of body language in any car.

It also still doesn’t excuse the lack of variety in Dean’s emoting and body language as a whole. You could do so much storytelling in his body language (since Jensen Ackles is a master at that) but they instead chose to stick with a template of a character and never strayed from it.

But...I digress.

Incidentally of all places Yuri!! On Ice has closer character designs of Sam and Dean that for some virulent reason exists (Also incidentally, if you so much as breathe the title of YOI you will be immediately blocked I am not joking around. Don’t test me.)

As does Yami Shibai

So it’s not like a competent/more modern design tailored to anime is impossible.

It is very possible. So if you have your defense that the character designs of the spn anime are inherently horrible BECAUSE it’s supposed to “look anime” you’re probably just suffering from media illiteracy.

However, again, I made claim that the “style” of the Supernatural anime character designs are not what make it fail.

It’s the execution of nuances that killed it--both visually and narratively. And I still stand by that.

To form examples, that means more design redraws!!!

However, the redraws this time around will have it’s own separate post since the inner working of what can make or break a design will be discussed and demonstrated there.

SEE YOU IN PART 2!!!

#whelvenwings #supernatural the animation #supernatural #spn meta #spn anime

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