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#yes i gave him a humanised version
laz-262 · 2 years
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tired radar dad
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thethirdromana · 1 year
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So does Trilby have a Supernaturally Menace in it or just... jews
I gave up at 100 pages in and then read the plot summary on Wikipedia, so I can't be completely sure, but there's no sign of a supernatural menace that I came across. The antagonist, Svengali, has hypnotic powers, but there's not much suggestion that he's anything other than a normal man who happens to be very good at hypnosis.
Yes, this is where we get the term "Svengali" from. And "in the altogether". And the reason we call a trilby a trilby is because Trilby wore one in the stage adaptation. This awful book was distressingly influential.
Going to drop the rest of this under a cut for discussion of anti-Semitism and other racism.
I've been trying to figure out why Trilby bothered me so much more than... well, more than pretty much every other Victorian novel stuffed with Victorian prejudices that I've ever read. I don't often give up on books.
I think the absence of the supernatural is part of it. In Dracula and the Beetle, you have an evil foreign menace who's out to do unspeakable things to our good British women, and I'm in no way defending that storyline, but in both cases the monster is legitimately monstrous. Vampires that eat people and giant beetles with mind control powers are genuinely scary. It would be possible to tell these stories without the racism and xenophobia; though the roots go deep, racism isn't inherent to what makes the story function.
Whereas in Trilby, the entire story is that Svengali is evil and does evil things because he is Jewish. There is no version of Svengali where you can subtract his Jewishness and still end up with a coherent character - or not one who would then play the role that Svengali plays in Trilby. As you put it, anon, the menace is Jews. And that's profoundly unpleasant to read in a way that's different from the monsters in Dracula and the Beetle, at least as I experience it.
There is another aspect of the novel that I find repugnant, and have been struggling to figure out how to put into words, so please forgive me if I mess it up.
So, we have a cultural idea that hatred and prejudice come from dehumanisation. It's the Terry Pratchett quote: "sin... is when you treat people like things." And the antidote is generally held to be humanising people. When Shylock asks "If you prick us, do we not bleed?" it's generally understood to be an appeal to a common humanity: if you realise that I'm a human being like you, you will put aside your prejudice.
What I find particularly disturbing about Trilby is how much it humanises Svengali. I know this doesn't seem like it should be a bad thing, which is why I've been struggling to figure out how to put this. I've drafted and deleted two or three posts about it.
He is humanised in such a way that when I read how Svengali is first introduced in the novel, I thought perhaps the criticisms that it's anti-Semitic might be overblown. Which is why I was relatively lighthearted in my first few posts about it.
Yes, Svengali is described as having stereotypically Jewish looks, but he's also an exceptionally talented musician, and in the opening scene, he and the protagonists have a lively party together. They share drinks, they share stories. He's not a Fagin-esque character, who is a cardboard cut-out labelled "evil Jew". Du Maurier fills in Svengali's character more than just about anyone else's; certainly more than the bland group of artists mooning over Trilby. He has depth, he has passions, he has humanity. He is a rounded and plausible person. He has, if you want, a soul.
And then du Maurier makes it clear that Svengali is evil, and the reader should hate him, because he is Jewish.
It feels profoundly hateful in a way that I still can't quite articulate. Most prejudice encourages us to see people as non-people. They don't have feelings, they are lesser, they don't count. By contrast, Trilby encourages us to see Svengali as a full person first and then to hate him anyway. The anti-Semitism in Trilby is the hatred of a neighbour. Du Maurier wants us to look deep into Svengali's eyes, and hate him all the same.
I don't think I've ever read a novel that wants this kind of hatred from me before, and I hope never to again.
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tobeornottotc · 2 years
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hi! tumblr newbie here just discovered kp and i'm kinda trying to see who to follow because the tag gets crazy and i want my dash free of all that, thoughts on vegas? thoughts on their first sex scene? was it r*pe for you? thoughts on kinn? tnks, xlaurax
Hi!
Wow that’s a lot of questions, I’ll try to answer them though you really made me have to expose my moral conflict a lot here haha. Anyways here’s my first opinions on:
Vegas
I love his writing and I think he has the potential to be great. His book version is very complicated how I feel about him in that because I completely adore his growth and storyline/arc and how he grows and changes but I also find him very toxic and I disliked the first parts of his arc with Pete because it was a bit too much and I haven’t seen fully yet what changed between them. But I am someone who normally loves morally grey characters so I’m not surprised that I’m conflicted with my love for story and development vs morality and if he deserved the happiness and love of Pete later. On show Vegas I feel like the writers know what they’re doing they are going to humanise him so much more like they’re doing to Kinn, and they’re going to make his issues exposed more and on the surface and they’ll give him and Pete more understanding to how they get to where they are at the end of the novel. Also with the show I’m shallow what can I say Bible is perfectly casted as him, seductive, and too much not to love, he’s beautiful but dangerous but because there’s a face to Vegas in the form of Bible I can’t help but love and want him to be better and developed more. My favourite version of Vegas so far in the novel is when he’s with Porsche like I said there’s something so wicked and complicated in the way he develops during that time it’s confusing it’s conflicting but it’s also dimensional and I squeal each time I see it come to fruition. I think that Vegas will be shown again once I see him at the end of his arc. But I haven’t yet seen that version of him where I’m at with him and Pete. Though Pete suffers because Vegas needs someone who can love the monster he is, again a monster can love, be good and change but it’s not an easy path to finding that out. Pete gets to see him at his worst and still decides to choose him despite it all. (How right that is psychologically can be a debate but it’s still important to notice)
On consent
Yes i do see it as R*pe but it’s more complicated than what people who just want to cancel the show or purity warriors see it as. Kinn was fully sober and gave into his urges and slept with Porsche when he wasn’t of sound mind, when there was no consent, and Porsche goes through that trauma in episode 5 because it was assault. However it’s blurry and confusing. It’s not as simple as that. Because Porsche feels taken advantage of but still thinks positively about those moments and feels distraught he likes and was happy during those moments. It’s a tricky one, but I’m not goanna sugar coat it and say it wasn’t assault but I’m also not goanna say Porsche was mad about it when he woke up , because he wasn’t he was afraid of how he got there :the drugging not the outcome, he was upset and triggered after Kinn changed and left him to process it all on his own, Kinns change made him feel taken advantage of and the tying of his hands triggered him during the punishment reminding him of when it was tied when Vegas was on top of him, he started to spiral into the emotions of both wanting his aggressor and feeling used and abandoned. Though I see it as assault I’m not disgusted or frightened by it, I’m happy with how it’s being handled so far, and I don’t hate Kinn or think he’s a monster for it either. Because Porsche doesn’t. In real life it would be more damaging it would be a different story but I knew what I was getting into in this show.
Kinn
He’s my little meow meow I guess. He’s heavily treated as such an awful person by the fandom at times it makes me sad, because it’s clear there’s so much he’s been through, so much pain and trauma he himself like all the other characters were made from, so much pressure on him to be the monster people keep thinking he is. Kinn’s not a monster though his truth is that he cares he may be a brat but it comes with his job description, he’s rich and wealthy and forced to be in a position of power to protect all dear to him. He’s a protector, a dragon forced to attack so no one comes and takes away his shelter and wealth and safety. That’s what Kinn is, below that he’s caring, he’s soft, and whiny, and he’s a mess when it comes to love. He’s a hopeless romantic he believes in love and he gives into it openly and that’s his downfall or was his downfall he can’t be that with the role he has to take, with the environment he has to adapt to, he has to break to fit in and he has to break others to gain control. His focus is on his responsibilities, on his family and on his freedom to love, he tainted it and dissociated from the matters of the heart when it broke now he tries to enjoy his freedom with pleasure and drinking. He drowns himself in that so much he doesn’t know he’s still hurting, scarred and torn. And he lacks trust to every body because of it, all Kinn wants is a refuge to stay in and someone who can be by his side who he can trust and rely on, someone who can be his forever, his companion that’s all this messy hopeless romantic wants and he can’t have that because he’s the heir to danger and betrayal there’s no place for that with him. When Porsche arrives it becomes different, it’s uncontrollable and it’s fate so it pushes him and tests him and forces him to stop running and hiding and face his scars and overcome them. So yeah I love Kinn, I adore his messiness and chaos I feel his hurt and I understand his pressure and pain. I feel as suffocated watching him try to escape the chains he’s in. But it’s not easy it’s not easy for any of these characters and that’s where it hurts.
Thanks anon. Hope this answers some of your questions, feel free to send me more if you want and you’re still looking for more content about KP. I’m free to always listen to opinions and discuss the show ❤️
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elderbwrry · 3 years
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Girls' Night
tags: the knights of ren, All Women Knights of Ren, Girl's night, Girl's Knight, haha please like me, Fluff and Humor, Adversarial Kylux, Very much a WIP, Kylux, although fair warning it might not be that relationshippy
Read it on ao3
Summary: Hux is surprised by what the Knights of Ren get up to in their free time - it's strangely humanising. Unfortunately, Ren is still being the Lord of all Assholes. Hux needs a way to get back at him. It gives him an idea.
Hux marched down the corridor in the Finalizer's quarters deck, the section dedicated to command personnel. The immaculately tiled and polished floors glinted as he whipped past them. He was walking a little faster than usual, he noticed with distaste, but it wasn't surprising; this was his last task before he could officially count his shift as “over” and, instead of standing stiffly on the bridge checking reports, he could settle down to checking them in the comfort of his quarters. His sofa beckoned, along with another three hours of beloved admin, then five necessary hours of sleep before his next shift.
Moments ticked by as he had to pause and wait for a security door to open, and he felt his frustration manifesting itself in his brow. He was currently delaying himself by heading approximately six minutes out of the way of his own quarters, all to give Ren little more than a telling off. This wasn't the first time the glorified poser had caused him this kind of issue – trust Ren to get in the way, he excelled at it – but it was the first time Hux was personally carrying the message round to his quarters that he needed to file a report for the mission he returned from over a week ago.
Hux had tried the usual ways of getting hold of Ren; on his return to the ship, Hux had informed him a report was due; an automated reminder had been sent; a follow-up reminder had been sent; Hux sent a reminder himself. Today, when his agenda noted that Ren still remained unresponsive, Hux hailed him over internal comms. No reply. He called Mitaka in, intending to send him to Ren's quarters, but the poor man had paled at the knight's very name. So, Hux had dismissed him, and undertaken to deliver the message himself.
Hux didn't bother to wonder the reason why Ren wasn't completing the report – undoubtedly it was because he was irresponsible, disrespectful, possibly illiterate – he only amused himself to wonder what foolish excuse would be employed this time. “Meditation,” Hux's mind supplied in a mocking approximation of Ren's voice without that ostentatious helmet, “important Force matters,” “training,” “I was just really tired and forgot :(”
He was just shaking his head disapprovingly at the imagined pout as he drew up outside the door itself. He pressed the button to request entry, pushing it harder than necessary until his thumb joint hurt, as if somehow that would convey through the automated, equalized buzz sound how annoyed he was with Ren taking up his time like this.
The door puffed open, and Hux's mouth was already opened to give Ren a piece of his mind when he realised that the person in front of him was not, in fact, Ren. Instead, stood before him was a woman nearly a head shorter than himself, her long, black hair piled on her head in a decidedly non-regulation messy bun, drawn away from her face, on which was slathered some kind of light pink paste. She was wrapped in a fluffy, pink dressing gown, under which appeared to be heart patterned pink pyjamas.
Hux's planned rebuke of Ren fell away into an, “Uh.” Usually, he had time to prepare himself for any kind of non-work-related interactions, but he had planned to go into this with a clipped, righteous annoyance and come out of it with a self-indulgent bit of riling Ren up, and now that Ren was not available for that, he had nothing.
“Yes?” she said, about as neutrally as Hux supposed anyone would, when called upon while attired as she was.
“I must have the wrong quarters,” was what he managed to reply.
“These aren't mine,” she explained, pointing behind her, around a corner which Hux couldn't see, “You looking for Kylo?”
“Yes,” Hux said stiffly, “is Ren here?”
The woman leaned back inside the door, around the corner Hux still couldn't see. “Kyle!” she called, “visitor.”
“He's not getting up, wet nails!” someone called back, another female sounding voice.
Just what was happening in there? How many women were there, and what were they doing in Ren's quarters, of all places, clad in such unofficial wear? Hux shuddered to think. Was he also going to have to remind Ren of the rules against fraternisation with inferior officers? That was sure to be a fun conversation of Ren not giving a kriff and Hux being able to do little but barb his words and maybe mention the situation to Snoke. Odd, though – Hux had never thought Ren had showed any preference for women... or perhaps that had just been wishful thinking.
The woman before him remained still for a moment, her brown eyes glazing over just slightly in a way which made Hux think she wasn't entirely mentally present. Then the look was gone as soon as it had come, and she frowned, annoyed. “He wants you to leave,” she informed him, “but he wasn't very nice about it, so you're coming in.” She turned and retreated back inside, beckoning casually for him to follow.
After a moment, once Hux's brain had caught up – Ren had just communicated with the woman through the Force, and now he was being invited in against those wishes. He slipped through the door, letting it puff closed behind him.
The first fact of the place was that Ren's quarters were larger than Hux's. Hux had known this, of course – he'd scoffed over the confirmation for the allocation when Ren had first transferred over, perfectly happy to take moderately sized quarters himself – but, as he walked down the grandly inlaid corridor from the entrance antechamber to what was presumably a living space, it contributed to the sense of an impending mystery as to what, exactly, he was about to discover. He hoped it was nothing too debauched.
“You're that General, aren't you?” the woman a step in front of him asked over her shoulder. “Hanks? Hugs?”
“Hux,” he corrected. He disliked intensely when people got his name wrong. He was the General of the ship they were all currently hurtling through space on, he was the General Starkiller – how could she not know who he was? “Who are you?”
“Ushar,” she replied easily. No rank, no designation of any sort, no actual deference to him as a General; all things Hux made a mental note of for later, when he could check the ship manifest.
“Might I ask what you're...”
Hux had begun to speak with an acerbic self-confidence – it was his ship, and he demanded to know what was happening on it – but it all became clear when Ushar opened the door to the central living area and the situation was revealed. It was the second time Hux had been caused to falter in his words in the last five minutes, and he didn't appreciate it. “What is this?” he asked, minorly horrified, as he took in the scene before him.
Ushar shrugged. “Girls' night.”
The room looked like some kind of stereotypical, tacky imitation of a Zeltronian spa had taken over. There were tall glasses of something bubbly scattered around, half-drunk, the bottle chilling in a bucket of ice on the coffee table, which was scattered with cosmetic items. A holo-romance was playing off to the side. Boxes of chocolates fountained forth crunched up wrappers. There were four women – two humans, a zabrak and a twi'lek – lounging around in the pit of cushions the room had been turned into. The cushions were allpink to match the identical pink bath robes and headbands and fluffy slippers the room's inhabitants were sporting. And, at the centre of it all; Ren.
“You...” Hux started, under his breath just enough that no-one would take notice of the stammering. He had certainly not expected this. “I...”
Ren, clad too in pink fluffy bath robe, seemingly with nothingunder it this time, finally took notice that Ushar had led Hux in, as he sat up quickly and angrily, removing slices of some green vegetable from over his eyes. The woman who had been painting his toenails – black, possibly the only thing that could reconcile the Ren Hux was used to with this strange, pink perversion before him – protested, but he ignored her, instead hurrying to his feet and wading his way out of the pillows.
“I told you to make him leave,” Ren growled at Ushar, but the effect was considerably diminished thanks to his appearance. The bathrobe he wore was the short, fun kind of style which only came to his knees; the pink headband kept all his hair back from his face gave him a kooky sort of bird's nest; his face was slathered with a light green version of what Ushar had on, all except for comical spaces around his eyes and lips.
Ushar glared at him. “You shouldn't have ordered me like that, then,” she said, going over to sit next to the zabraki woman, shuffling in closer than was strictly platonic and picking up one of the glasses. “I'm not some stormtrooper.”
“You're ruining the night,” Ren brandished the vegetable slice at her. It wobbled.
“You'reruining the night!” the woman Ushar was sat next to shot back. “He's here after you!”
“Yeah, Kyle,” the twi'lek said from the sofa in a tone that was very much mocking, but still friendly, popping a chocolate in her mouth. Who were these people, that they could speak to Kylo Ren like this and get away with it?
Ren turned back to Hux, glowering. The face paste made him look like a clown. The outside finally reflects the inside, Hux thought to himself while wondering if Ren had waxed his legs or if they were just like that naturally, and had to force himself not to laugh. He obviously didn't mask his expressions quite as well as he should have, however, because Ren seemed to sense that Hux was amusing himself at his expense. Seizing Hux's upper arm in a grip to rival that of a hangar-bay droid, Ren manhandled Hux back to the door of the room, away from the group.
“Unhand me, you oaf,” Hux admonished, shaking Ren off him and lowering his tone a little so as not to disturb the ladies, who, in their disregard of Ren's plumped-up edginess, had endeared themselves to him.
“Why are you here?” Ren demanded before he'd even finished speaking, also at subdued pitch.
“Why are you here?” Hux returned, hissingly. “Who are these people? Why are you not completing the mission report which you have had no fewer than five requests for? Why the hells are your quarters this gods-awful colour?”
Ren took a moment to glare at Hux.
Hux interpreted this as having the upper hand. “Well?”
“I'm not completing any more of your stupid kriffing reports,” he said as if it were obvious. “I told you that already.”
Hux cycled through his memory quickly. He remembered Ren slamming down the last report onto his desk and threatening something similar, but he'd disregarded it, because reports were Necessary, and it was not a possibility for anyone to simply not do them.
“You will do the report,” Hux replied.
“No.”
“You'll do it now.”
Ren snorted. “No.”
Hux bristled. “Ren, I have been forced to come down here – well out of my way – to extract this report from you, only to find you sitting around like some... pampered princess, when I could be-”
“Good point actually, let's return to it. What are you doing down here?” Ren frowned and crossed his arms, but his lips curled cruelly, ready, Hux was sure, to make some insult about his doing such menial work.
“That brings me to the next matter,” Hux plucked the opportunity of throwing in this additional argument, squaring up. “You have intimidated my administrative staff to the point where it is necessary that I waste my time in a way which is thoroughly unacceptable to me.”
Ren widened his eyes in mock sympathy. “Did you forget how to use a comm?”
This only pissed Hux off more, because something about the movement was ridiculously attractive. He wasn't sure whether it was the slight shrug which emphasised Ren's muscular arms, the fact that the pink really brought out the rich shade of his hair, or even the cruelty behind the act itself, but it could not stand.
“I'm quite familiar with the comms system,” he spat, “it seems that you are the one having trouble, since you failed to reply to my hails. As my co-commander,” (Hux had practised in his bathroom mirror not grimacing as he said this) “you are expected to answer your comms when I call. It is highly unprofessional of you to shirk your duty like this.”
Ren momentarily pursed his lips. His next words were caustic. “I don't intend to waste my life away at work like you do, slaving over a tablet until I look like the living dead. At least I know how to relax.”
Hux's eye twitched. “I know how to relax.” An imagined image of himself on his icy blue sofa in his black and red robe, his cat to one side, his data-pad in hand, appeared in his mind. That was relaxing.
“No you don't,” Ren scoffed. “You should see the bags under your eyes. You look more drawn out than all the Starkiller blueprints put together.”
Mentally, Hux's self-image adjusted so that his porcelain skin turned grey, the lines of his face more prominent, the room dark until only he was visible by the harsh light of the data-pad. It could not have been more different than his current surroundings of pink and fluffiness and companionship and soft lighting.
“Get out of my head, Ren,” he said, putting the warping of his imagined scene down to some Force meddling.
“I'm not in your head,” Ren replied, “you're just sad and lonely and jealous that you have to go do a report while I have a nice night with my knights – my friends. You,” he pointed sassily, “could never have this,” he pointed back to the ladies. “Now kriff off, I'm not doing the report. Maybe you should do it yourself, since you have such a boner for that kind of thing.” The door far behind Hux puffed open, presumably manipulated by the Force.
“I expect the report before the end of my shift tomorrow,” Hux said, voice dangerous and low. How dare Ren speak to him like that. How dare he judge what Hux did to relax, while he was being a layabout with these random, cool ladies... doing... fun things like... painting nails and getting tipsy... and watching holo-dramas... and... he wasn't jealous.
“Leave,” Kylo told him.
Hux narrowed his eyes. “You will regret this, Ren.” He turned on his heel and marched from the room, commenting to himself once more as the door puffed closed behind him, “You will regret this.”
[line break]
Kylo watched Hux retreat from the room, waiting until the door had closed to turn and make his way back to his knights. He flopped himself back down onto the floor, jostling Ap'lek's sofa cushions in the process.
“Ah kriff,” he complained as he saw his black-smudged toes stretched out in front of him, “he made me ruin my nail paint.”
“I'm not doing them again,” Trudgen said, tossing the little black bottle at him, shifting around to watch the holo and grabbing a chocolate. “You shoulda been more careful when you got up instead of rushing off to be a bitch.”
Kylo sighed over-dramatically and called out, “Cardo!” She and Kuruk were in the kitchen, probably making an unsightly mess of the place, but Kylo knew only she would be willing to finish the paint for him. Of course, he would have to take the chance that the stuff would end up even more smudged than it already was, and, now he was thinking about it, he would probably be better off just dipping his entire feet in nail polish.
A chocolate wrapper hit the side of his head. He turned to see Ushar had thrown it. “Just do it yourself,” she told him, “it's not like it's hard.”
But he wanted to feel spoiled, that was the whole point of this spa evening anyway. He called Cardo's name again, whinier this time.
“What?!” came the shouted reply, “We're making mug muffins!”
Vicrul frowned, straightening up a little where her arm was thrown around Ushar's shoulders. “In the microwave?”
“Yeah!”
“Huh,” Vicrul shrugged, settling back down again. “Good luck cleaning that.”
Kylo groaned, letting his head fall back onto the sofa cushion behind him. First Hux was on him about a report, then none of his knights would do his nails for him, now Cardo was splattering his lovely microwave with chocolate batter. This was all Hux's fault. Kylo wasn't sure how yet, but it was.
He opened his eyes to see Ap'lek looking down at him, where his head rested by her left elbow. “What's this about a report then?” she asked flatly. Kylo just groaned again and re-closed his eyes.
“You can't be procrastinating this stuff again,” Ushar nagged him over the sound of footsteps, accompanied by a smell of chocolate, and a thunk-clink of a tray with spoons being set down on the table as the cooks brought the muffins through. “Your job is important, here, Kylo. Snoke wants you to do well.”
“To hell with Snoke,” Kylo mumbled, hoping the crusty fart wasn't spying on his thoughts as they spoke. Paperwork was a fate worse than a fate worse than all the Sith hells combined.
“Then we want you to do well,” she continued.
“Plus we blew up so much shit on that mission,” Vicrul added, and Kylo opened his eyes to glare at her as she accepted a mug from Kuruk.
“You have to tell the General about that some time, why not put it in a report? You'd save him lots of time, probably. I bet he'd be so appreciative.”
Kylo accepted a mug proffered by Kuruk and waved it about a bit. “Since when do we care about saving Hux time? I meant what I said, he loves paperwork so much he probably,” he picked up a spoon and stabbed it into the fluffy top of the muffin, watching steam come out as he tried to pick a suitably ridiculous image of Hux. “He probably sleeps with all the files strewn over his bed and like,” he made a face, “rubs them on his body, gets all cozy with them at night. I don't know.”
“I'm pretty sure he does paperwork on his data-pad,” Ap'lek said, and she was right, though Kylo resented that she'd killed his roll.
“Just do the kriffing report, Kyle.” Trudgen hadn't pulled her attention away from the holo enough to face him as she'd said it, but apparently had been paying enough attention to comment, “Anything to stop him showing up and interrupting us. Girls' night is a no-business zone.”
Cardo chose that moment to vault over the back of the sofa and land heavily on the cushions. “Ooh, General Hux came over?” she asked cheerfully. Her hands were, predictably, still coated in chocolate powder. “I can't believe I missed him, I want to see if his hair is gelled that solid from close up.” She grabbed her mug and dug into the muffin.
“The General shouts too much,” Kuruk said, sitting cross legged on a cushion by the coffee table. “He should check his blood pressure, it can't be good for him.”
“Hey, a bit like you!” Cardo added, “You must call me through next time. He's cute.”
Kylo opened his mouth – partly to gape at what had just been said, and partly because the muffin was too hot and he hadn't had the impulse control to prevent eating a large spoonful. “Hey!” he started a few times, mouth full and burning. Finally, he was able to swallow. “He is not cute, and there will be no,” he wobbled his mug and spoon in a no-fingered version of quotation marks, “next time.”
“Then do the report,” Ushar shot back.
Kylo made a loud complaint noise.
“He's not gonna do it because he wants the General to come over again,” Ap'lek teased, and, to Kylo's horror, all his knights laughed. Traitors. He didn't want Hux to come over again.
“I don't,” he replied vehemently, “I want him to kriff off and stop annoying me.”
“I think that's against his job description,” Kuruk said, prompting further laughs.
“You should just do it,” Ushar said, getting to her feet after a moment more.
“Hey, where you going?” Vicrul asked sadly, not letting go of Ushar's hand.
“Babe, I gotta peel my face.”
“Wait, let me come with, it's really satisfying.”
The two disappeared off, and Kylo had to add 'his knights screwing in his bathroom' to his list of sub-par things to happen this evening. He wasn't going to do the report. He couldn't be bothered, he didn't want to, he hated writing things and making them sound 'formal'. No, tonight he was going to finish his mug muffin, paint his nails and fall asleep with his knights in front of a trashy holo-romance. Hux would get the hell in eventually and do the report himself. Give it a few more days, and Kylo was sure Hux would drop the issue.
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bloodraven55 · 4 years
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Cinder Fall and the Cycle of Abuse
I’ve not written a meta or long analysis post in a good while so I wanted to dip my toe back into that pond again, and with Volume 8 just around the corner this seemed like an appropriate topic to choose. I’ve wanted to take a closer look at Cinder as a character ever since the end of Volume 7, and the Volume 8 trailer finally gave me the push of inspiration I needed.
Anyway, the two main things I want to focus on here are the cycle of abuse we see between Salem and Cinder, and exactly how the story of Cinderella can also give us some solid insight into Cinder herself. With that said, let’s start at the very beginning.
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One of the very first shots of Cinder we ever see in the show is a close up of Cinder’s feet as she steps out to face Ruby and Glynda, and that’s no coincidence. Cinder is wearing glass shoes and an alternative name for the story of Cinderella is literally “The Little Glass Slipper.”
But skipping ahead a little, Beginning of the End is one of the first episodes which gives us a real look at Cinder beyond the femme fatale persona she projects. Specifically, I’m interested in these lines:
I want to be strong. I want to be feared. I want to be powerful.
Strong, feared, and powerful. Those are Cinder’s primary objectives. Unlike Salem, her goal isn’t on a global scale. Cinder’s motivations are personal, and they tell us a lot about her. They tell us that she has been weak, afraid, and powerless in the past, which is why she is so desperate to become the opposite of that now. And this is far from the only moment which backs this idea up.
This is what happens when you hand over your trust, your safety, your children, to men who claim to be our guardians, but are, in reality, nothing more than men. Our Academies' Headmasters wield more power than most armies, and one was audacious enough to control both. They cling to this power in the name of peace, and yet, what do we have here?
She shows clear disdain for those who hoard power or overreach themselves, suggesting that she’s had bad experiences with similar people before, and she’s confirmed to be “jealous of those with natural talents.” (x)
You Atlas elites are all the same! You think hoarding power means you’ll have it forever, but it just makes the rest of us hungrier. And I refuse to starve.
All of this paints a very clear picture of Cinder as someone who came from nothing and has had to struggle and suffer to get to where she is now. And nowhere is this more exemplified than in the Grimm arm which is flat out consuming her humanity piece by piece. It’s a physical manifestation of how she’s sacrificed so many parts of herself in a bid to become so powerful that she never has to fear anyone else again.
And speaking of the Grimm arm, that brings me to the next thing I want to talk about. Who gave Cinder the Grimm arm? Salem. This is where the Cinderella allusion starts to tie in even more obviously again. I’m sure we’re all familiar with the characters of the wicked stepmother and the fairy godmother which are common to almost all tellings of the story.
Once you stop and think about it for a while, it becomes pretty apparent that Salem is meant to fill both roles in Cinder’s arc. Unlike the original tale where Cinderella was abused by her stepmother and saved by the fairy godmother, in this version Salem offered Cinder a way out of her bad situation and used that promise to keep Cinder in her service. She put on the mask of the fairy godmother before revealing herself as the wicked stepmother.
It’s anyone’s guess at the moment precisely what Cinder’s life was like before Salem found her, but my guess would be nothing too interesting. She was most likely simply an orphan or a poor child from a bad home. But Salem took advantage of that to manipulate her by showing her a way to turn her luck around if she worked for her.
Except, Cinder just ended up becoming the monster she used to be afraid of. We see several times that Cinder often emulates the way Salem treats her in the way she treats others, especially Emerald and Mercury. Yes, I know that Roman’s face in the first screenshot is hilarious lol.
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Cinder places so little value on the people around her because Salem places so little value on her, and she learned that type of leadership by example.
In Volume 4 Salem defends Cinder from Watts in the first episode by telling him that she “see[s] no reason for [his] cruelty towards young Cinder,” but then by the end of the same season she’s intimidating Cinder into accepting pain as a way to become stronger: “I thought you were the girl who wanted power. Did you lie to me?”
This is a textbook cycle of abuse situation where someone who’s a victim of abuse from someone else then internalises that behaviour and turns it onto other people around them. It’s a fascinating twist on the source material of the Cinderella story, and something that humanises Cinder without providing a justification for any of the horrific things she's done.
Anyway, that’s pretty much it. I know a lot of people consider Cinder a fairly flat or boring character, or at least did in the past, but I think she’s more compelling as a villain than people give her credit for, and I’m very curious to see where her story goes next since they seem to be giving her a lot of focus right now in the show.
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aotopmha · 3 years
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The extra pages for chapter 139 seem to be pretty much finally out!
And they're a bunch panels relying on visual storytelling which need to be put in context by the reader/you need to maybe think about it for 10 seconds instead of 2, something I've learned the internet does not like in storytelling. (Or in general, considering how much misinformation is out there.)
I think Kunihiko Ikuhara's works were my first exposure to this element of the internet in full force; they're some of the lowest-rated stories in some of the typical websites where anime is discussed and they're all mostly very reliant on metaphor and visual storytelling.
I've seen 12 episodes of Revolutionary Girl Utena and a little bit of Yurikuma Arashi and I think you really need to completely engage with those stories to get what is going on. Almost all of the dialog in those stories seems to matter and to need as much of the context as possible to understand.
And to me a story which asks you to engage and put things together for yourself is what I look for in art and I think is art.
The reason why I have yet to go back to those stories is because they are so very dense and you really just need to be in a certain mindset to watch them.
AoT Chapter 122 and now these new pages are 100% visual storytelling.
AoT Chapter 122 in particular is still one of my favourite manga chapters ever because of how it portrayed a character's perspective with very limited dialog.
The thing with AoT is that I think these moments of visual storytelling are like a less dense and complex version of Ikuhara's storytelling, but they have the same elements.
A lot of context-dependent information in relatively few panels is in 122 and 139, that's why I think people get the sense the story is excusing Eren, for example.
Most of those complaints I've felt are very bad faith, but if I believe in the good and intelligence of humanity for once, maybe it really is that awkward prose that confuses and offends people, not the desire to be morally superior over a comic.
In that sense I think people read the words "thank you" Armin says to Eren and nothing else around it or just find the phrasing to be strange.
They don't go to reread the previous chapter or arc just in case they might've missed something.
Months/years-long breaks between material also assist in not really considering anything else but that one chapter in that one month.
And it just so happens art is also a very individual emotional experience, so "monkey brain" just fully kicks in, too.
To me if you think about it, what the story is saying is pretty obvious the moment Eren became the antagonist. This shift happened in Marley, 40 chapters or so ago.
But this is just what *my* mind leads me to and makes connections with based on the information I have absorbed from the story.
And it's not just that, too. I make connections to what the story was trying to do with Reiner, Kenny, Bert, Erwin or Annie because they were also serial killers/murderers the story took effort in humanising.
The importance of individual perspective and what these characters individually think and how they view themselves seems to be one of the most important aspects of the story.
Because ultimately one of the most important thematic threads of the story seems to be understanding different perspectives.
So why is Eren any different than all of the other mass murderers in the cast?
Because all of the big murderers in the cast get empathy and moments where characters try to understand them, no?
To actually address the pages, here's the general points and my thoughts:
-The whole deal with Mikasa and OG Ymir is that I think Mikasa tries to again, find the good in OG Ymir's suffering.
Her having her children lead to the lives of many people, including hers to be born and Mikasa thanks her for that.
This is a parallel to Eren, whose actions at least gave his friends their lives back. This also ties into Armin's point in chapter 137 about living life for those good moments and Mikasa's promise in chapter 138 to remember Eren for all of the good he did for her.
-Mikasa having a family with probably Jean (which is probably implied with the small scene on the boat) is such a minor thing that I just find hard to care about it at all. The focus on Mikasa really wasn't with it the point to emphasize how she now has kids.
And Mikasa and Historia are still the only characters we see get kids. There really actually isn't anything with anyone else (the spoiler about Armin and Annie doesn't seem to be real at all).
-People visiting the tree is a much more limited panel than the initial leaked images lead on. It's not a tourist attraction, it's something I think the families of Eren's friends ended up visiting. So this also gives it a much more "selfish" vibe.
-Armin's talk with Eren and the scene on the boat with Pieck now gets some pretty nice additional context (makes sense considering Isayama considered it one of the bits to be clumsy himself) because of the panels of Paradis at war in the future.
Those panels don't necessarily say Paradis was completely destroyed by war (we see the black-haired kid), but the alternatives also make the same point: Eren's methods didn't really bring peace.
It sort of gives the promise Armin made to Eren and his words on the boat a more sadder tinge.
Armin tried so hard to make something good out of the mess Eren left everyone. He tried hard for diplomacy to triumph, but war still happened because that's how humanity works.
There's also the layer of violence begetting violence and extremism also hurting your own people. The Jaegerist movement Eren ended up creating probably caused this war on Paradis. I think that's the implied thing with Historia's speech.
The final layer to Eren's actions is the giant Titan tree that literally grew out of his grave: what he did just lead to more cycles and the whole mess might just start again.
But we don't really actually see that happen. It's only a possibility.
Will the kid go in there to get the power and save his people from misery or will he consider the past?
We don't know. It all depends on what he knows of the past and this tree, how his parents presented the past to him, how the world shaped his perspective and yes, also his nature, too.
But the point is, Eren's actions had some good, but mostly bad consequences.
Puts Annie's and Pieck's comments in a stronger perspective, too.
I still maintain this ending is good. Not my favourite material from AoT, but good.
And I'll repeat what I said before that repeating the story's point in more concrete ways gives satisfaction in its own right.
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hardcorehardigan · 3 years
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[Cover: GREG WILLIAMS/AUGUST IMAGES]
Tom Hardy interview and exclusive David Bailey shot
Tom Hardy interview and exclusive David Bailey shot
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By DANIELLE DE WOLFE
02 September 2015
ShortList meets the British actor who took on the Kray twins and won. Plus an exclusive image of the actor taken by the inimitable David Bailey.
Interviewing Tom Hardy is not like interviewing other film stars. From the moment he arrives – alone, dressed down in hiking trousers and black T-shirt, puffing away on a complex-looking digital e-cigarette – it is immediately clear this is not someone who will be exhibiting any kind of on-promotional-duties polish. He is very, very nice (I get a hug at the end of the interview), but there is unmistakably a wired edginess about him. When we sit down, it starts like this:
Me: I’m going to start with an obvious question, which is… Hardy: Have you seen the film? Me: Yes. I… Hardy: Right, well that’s the first question, then. The second one is, “What did you think?” I tell him I loved it, and why, and he is pleased (“That’s a f*cking result!”). When we move on to me asking him questions, his answers – again, in contrast to other film stars, with whom the game is to get them to veer slightly away from prepared, succinct monologues – are smart and eloquent, but long, drawn-out and enjoyably all over the place, veering off into tangents prompted by thoughts that have clearly just formulated. At the end of our allotted time, we are told to wind it up not once but twice, and even then he is still going, launching into theories about American versus British gangster films and life and humanity and such things (“Sorry man, I can talk for f*cking ever!” he laughs). He will be talking with a seriousness and sincerity (“All the risk was taken by [writer and director] Brian [Helgeland], to be fair…”), then will switch without warning into a piercing, mock-hysterical falsetto (“…letting me PLAY BOTH F*CKING ROLES, MAN!”).
In fact, briefly, while we’re on the subject of the way he speaks…
Tom Hardy’s normal speaking voice is not something we have been privy to onscreen. Since he delivered – whatever your opinion of it – the most imitated cinematic voice of the decade in The Dark Knight Rises, we haven’t come close. That thick Welsh accent in Locke, The Drop’s quiet Brooklyn drawl, the Russian twang in Child 44: we just never hear it. And this might be because it doesn’t exist. It’s five years ago, but if you watch his Jonathan Ross appearance in 2010, where he is very well spoken, he confesses he “sometimes picks up accents, and sometimes I don’t know how I’m going to sound until I start speaking”. If you then watch another video of a feature on GMTV, dated just a month previous, while addressing some young people from troubled backgrounds as part of his charity work with the Prince’s Trust, he is speaking to them in a south London street kid drawl. Today, in the flesh, he is about halfway between these two.
A natural-born chameleon.
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Tom Hardy shot by David Bailey for ShortList
BEING DOUBLE
The role we are here to discuss today does not, by Tom Hardy’s own standards at least, involve a huge stretch accent-wise. But it is “the hardest thing that I’ve ever done, technically”. This is because, as mentioned, he plays not one role, but two. In the same film. You will likely have seen the posters for Legend by now, depicting Hardy as both of the Kray twins. Which seems an ambitious, almost foolhardy undertaking.
Hardy agrees. “It is one of them situations,” he says. “You get an actor to play two characters, and immediately, it’s pony. It’s gonna be rubbish. Just: no. It’s a bad idea.”
This particular “bad idea” came to him when he first met writer and director Brian Helgeland (who had previously written screenplays for – no biggie – LA Confidential and Mystic River) for dinner. Brian wanted Hardy to play Reggie (the hetero, alpha male, more-straight-down-the-line Kray). Hardy, though, had read the script, and of course, being Tom Hardy, was drawn to the more complex character. “I was like, ‘Well, I feel Ronnie,’” he says. “So which actor am I gonna give up Ronnie to, if I play Reggie? Errrrrggh…. I can’t have that. ’Cos that’s all the fun there! And Reggie’s so straight! But there was a moment when I could have come away just playing Reggie. We could have gone and found a superlative character actor to play Ronnie, and that would have been the best of everything."
But Helgeland sensed the dissatisfaction in his potential leading man. “I’m sitting there thinking, ‘Oh, he wants to play Ron,’” he tells me. “And the paraphrased version is that by the end of the dinner, I said, ‘I’ll give you Ron if you give me Reg.’”
And so began their quest to turn a risky, potentially disastrous idea into something special (as Brian puts it to me, “the movie’s either gone right or gone wrong before anyone even starts working on it”). Hardy found some comfort in Sam Rockwell’s two-interacting-characters performance in Moon. “I’m a big fan of Sam,” he says.
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“And Moon gave me reason to go, ‘I know it’s possible to hustle with self, to create a genuine dialogue with self.’ So then it’s the technical minefield: can you authentically create two characters within a piece at all? So that the audience can look past that and engage in the film? It is what it is: it’s two characters played by the same actor. But I think we got to a point where people forget that and are genuinely watching the story."
This was the ‘why I liked the film’ reasoning I gave to him at the beginning of the interview. And it is a remarkable performance, or pair of performances, or triumph of technical direction. The opening shot features both Tom Hardy Krays sitting in the back of a car, and feels strange, but very quickly, within about 10 or 15 minutes, you settle into it, and forget that it is actually the same guy. This was made possible, in part, by Hardy’s stunt double from Mad Max: a New Zealander named Jacob Tomuri.
“He inherited the hardest job of my career,” Hardy grins. “I put on a pair of glasses, played every scene with Ron, then took ’em off and played Reg. And we went through every scene in the film, recording it on the iPhone. So he’s got every scene of me doing both characters, on his iPhone. He actually played both brothers, had to learn all of the lines. He was paying attention twice as hard to keep up. But he superseded that, and was eventually ad-libbing. There’s a line that ended up in the film, where Ronnie goes, ‘I bent him up like a pretzel, I hurt him really f*cking badly.’” “Where did that come from?!” Hardy shrieks, in that falsetto again. “It came from New Zealand."
The wife’s tale
The other big potential pitfall, as Hardy sees it, was contributing to the ongoing glamorisation and eulogising of two brothers who were, to say the least, not very nice. Somehow they have become almost as iconic a piece of the Sixties puzzle as the Beatles or the Stones. But this was not something that Legend would be setting out to reinforce. “One has to approach these things thinking about the families of the victims who were involved in the other end of it,” he says. “Before you find the heart to like somebody, you’ve gotta look at their track record as best as possible: the people who’ve been hurt, the bodies, the suffering, people who were bullied, who lived in terror, who lost significant parts of their lives in the wake of these two men. There’s a lot of sh*t to wade through. And a lot of people who do not, quite rightly, want to see anything to do with these two men. And if I were them, I wouldn’t want to be involved myself, but there’s also part of me that wants to know. That wants to get under the skin.”
So how do you go about doing that? About humanising, to any extent, such people?
“I think the first port of call is, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to do and say whatever you wanted to do and say in the world, regardless of the ramifications and the consequences?’ Ultimately, when I – we – go to the cinema or read a book or we go to escape, we respond to certain types of characters that go, ‘F*ck it: I’m gonna do whatever I want.'
And that’s because we can’t. Because most people would feel a responsibility.”
The answer to how Legend would do this came in the shape of a person who did feel some responsibility, namely Frances Shea: the troubled wife of Reggie, who died in 1967. Played by Emily Browning, she became the centre of the film when Helgeland met Krays associate Chris Lambrianou, who told him that “Frances was the reason we all went to prison”.
“We could have put more of the carnage and the crimes in that film,” says Hardy. “Not to say that it is not there, but what you do see, really, is Reggie, Ronnie and Frances. That’s the dynamic we focused on, that space, which hasn’t been seen before. What was that dynamic like? I don’t know if we came anywhere near the truth, because we weren’t there. But that was the playing field, if you like: Frances Shea, future ahead of her, caught up in something, and no one with her, the suicide. That sits with me in a way as the lead. She’s who we forgot. Ronnie, Reggie, they’ve done their bit. Frances was forgotten. And that kind of all ties it together for me."
FUTURE LEGENDS
The initial praise for Legend has been plentiful, but the mindset of Tom Hardy right now is such that he does not have the time to bask in it. There are other quite ludicrously challenging projects to be pressing ahead with. Coming in autumn is The Revenant, starring his good friend Leonardo DiCaprio and directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu of Birdman fame. Its trailer, as well as doing the not-going-anywhere trend for big beards no harm whatsoever, suggests that it will also match Mad Max in terms of an unrelenting barrage of intensity. Further into the future there’s the Elton John biopic Rocketman (initial challenge? Hardy “can’t sing”) and another foray into comic-book adaptation with 100 Bullets (news of which broke just after our interview).
And right now, as in this week, he’s working on a BBC series called Taboo, which is set in 1813 and stars Hardy as an adventurer who comes back from Africa and builds a shipping empire. The story has been developed by his production company Hardy Son & Baker (formed with his father, Chips) and has been written and directed by Locke/Peaky Blinders creator Steven Knight, with Ridley Scott also exec producing.
“We’re sat on something really awesome,” says Hardy. “And it’s trying to piece it together. I’ve never produced anything before, so I basically don’t know what I’m doing. But I’ve got some options and solutions: if you say something is not working, you better come up with at least four other options. But it’s good. It’s just different.”
Another day, another big challenge. Another chance to do something different. It isn’t an easy life being Tom Hardy. But neither will it ever a boring one, and that’s good news for us.
Legend is at cinemas from 9 September
Words: Hamish MacBain. Images: David Bailey, Studio Canal
You can also read the Hardy interview in this week's ShortList Magazine. It'd be a crime to miss it.
Source: https://www.shortlist.com/news/tom-hardy-interview-and-exclusive-david-bailey-shot
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Top 5 fictional villains?
I hate how predictable my answer is. It's embarrassing. Thank you for asking. 
1) Darth Vader (Star Wars Saga and Expanded Universe)
Predictable, yes, but can anyone really beat Darth Vader? He’s terrifying, he’s iconic, he’s powerful and he has The Best theme song. Also, literally every moment he is present in Rogue One was amazing. I honestly don’t have much else to say about him except that even if you have never seen Star Wars, you probably know why he’s on this list and that says it all, really.
2) Loki (Marvel Cinematic Universe) 
Yeah, I said it. I warned you this was going to be predictable. I know. He’s just so fun and chaotic I can’t not put him near the top. Also, most of why I love him is Tom Hiddleston’s portrayal of Loki. That man is a genius and gave us a villain that you love to see thrown around a room but also kinda root for. A tiny bit. Then there’s the fact that he falls under one of the best villain tropes of all time: reformed villain becomes morally grey side-kick. Not to be confused with Zukofication, ie. a villain getting a redemption arc that turns them into a good person. Zuko is special and would be on this list except I hate calling him a villain so yeah. No.
3) Dracula (Castlevania, Netflix series)
Honestly, my favourite thing about Dracula is that he’s a character who has always been a villain. He’s introduced first as a man living in a magic castle surrounded by heads on pikes. That is not a heroic introduction, but he’s treated like he was a fallen hero, a beloved father, a grieving husband. His relationships with his family- Lisa, Alucard, they humanise him, make you feel for him and it turns his story into a tragedy because to those characters, it *is*. It was really well done and makes Dracula and his story really interesting. I don’t post about Castlevania much on here anymore because I made a side blog for it, but I still really love this series. 10/10 would recommend if you haven’t seen it already.
4) The Regent (Captive Prince Trilogy by C.S Pacat)
I have a strange relationship with this series. It wasn’t always a pleasant read and I do have some criticisms about the execution of certain things. A lot of the criticisms I’ve seen from other people are valid, I won’t argue there, but one thing the Captive Prince trilogy has going for it are its characters. There is something to be said for Pure Evil villains. I love complicated villains as the rest of my list will probably tell you, but there is absolutely nothing redeemable or complicated about the Regent. Nothing. He is filth. He is evil incarnate in a lot of ways and that makes him compelling as an adversary and makes his eventual defeat deliciously satisfying. He wasn’t cartoonishly evil, either. He wasn’t sitting there cackling like a lunatic, he was insidious and scarier than a man like that should be. It’s been quite a while since I read the series, but the Regent has stuck with me in my mind as a great villain.
5) Jim Moriarty (Sherlock, BBC)
Hey, remember when Sherlock was good? In my opinion, everything about that show went downhill after they tried to make a villain “better” than Moriarty. The result was Magnussen and then, a season later, Eurus, and it just didn’t work quite as well. James Moriarty is an iconic villain, no matter which version you choose, but I have not yet read the original novels, and there’s something slightly unhinged about Andrew Scott’s portrayal that I love compared to other versions of the character. So much of a villain, like all of these characters, is about their presence, the way they fill the screen or the page, and Andrew Scott’s Moriarty is great because he can alternate between being unassuming and explosive at a whim. He’s compelling; exciting and scary all at once and a total diva, which is always fun to watch.
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I tried not to have more than one villain from a franchise or fictional universe because there is no way I’d narrow it down to five otherwise. If you asked me the same question with a specific series/fandom in mind, I’d give you a different answer, but I feel like I should include some honourable mentions.
Lotor (Voltron: Legendary Defender) - Really if the series had ended at Season 4 or 5, Lotor would be on this list but VLD ruined him and I am still salty about it.
Thrawn (Star Wars: Rebels) - He gets an honourable mention because you’d think that by making Darth Vader the villain of Season 2, Rebels wouldn’t have anywhere to go but down from there. The villains of final seasons are tricky, and I believe they did really well with Thrawn as a final season villain, keeping him scary in an entirely different way to any of the villains that had gone before.
Emperor Palpatine/Darth Sidious  (Star Wars Saga and Expanded Universe) - Another one of those brilliantly purely evil villains. I would go into detail but this post is already way, way too long.
Ask me my Top 5 anything!
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skewedlights · 7 years
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The Flash Season 4 Episode 1 (The Flash Reborn):
First Team Flash seem to have a groove going with Iris commanding them from STAR Labs, Cisco and Kid Flash are able to stop Peak-A-Boo. This victory is short-lived as Iris points out that they are not putting criminals away as fast as they used to (with The Flash around) and with crime up, she feels they need to get better at it.
The entrance of the Samuroid was amazing, it was very ominous. The way he commanded attention, he had the whole street SHOOK and that’s in the literal sense. Samuroid is looking for The Flash and doesn’t want to settle for just Kid Flash. Cisco believing they need to get Barry back goes to Caitlin for help (yes she is Caitlin, not Killer Frost), she made us believe that she is completely healed, back with the confidence of Killer Frost and decides to help the team. They try to get Barry back and what seems like a failure, actually was just a delay.
Barry though is clearly not okay and although the team thinks they have a way of getting him back to who he was, he clearly still seems out of it, drawing all of these symbols, quoting things he said in the past like “I’m just not sure I’m like you Oliver” or “I doubt restraint is how you got to be the man you are today”, basically going all ‘Beautiful Mind on us’ like Cisco said.
The moment between Iris and out-of-it Barry is very emotional because it is clearly hard for her to watch him be like this.
Samuroid shows up again and this time Wally puts on The Flash suit to fight him. They fight but Wally is beaten. It does suck that the first time Wally tries to be The Flash it goes so badly.
Everyone is disappointed. Cisco is disappointed he couldn’t help Barry. Iris is disappointed that her reunion with Barry is not going well. Wally is disappointed that he cannot help. Joe is disappointed that Barry is messed up, Wally is injured and Iris is hurting. When Joe shaves Barry, it reminds me of how much of a parent Joe is to him and considering Joe is all he has in that area, it really humanises the show. I’m guessing Iris thinks what we all think that Barry will snap out of it once he sees her in danger, so she sacrifices herself but I can’t help but think that this decision is going to bite them in the butt in the future because she just gave the villain an idea of who they need to get, to get to The Flash.
Iris’ sacrifice works and Barry busts out the cell like an effing lightning bolt to get to her, he busts out that cell like it was only supposed to hold humans, not metas. The fight between The Flash and Samuroid is brief but at the end, we see that he is actually an android. Android Samurai. Samuroid.
Team Flash seems to be back and better than ever. See how I said seems? Caitlin (who is working as a bartender) has clearly gotten herself into something dodgy over the last six months and at the first sign of danger, turns into Killer Frost. Killer Frost wants to go out but changes back into Caitlin. I guess she isn’t as healed as we would like to think. I think this is full blown split personality as one version of herself fights the other for control.
The Samuroid was turned out to be built by The Mechanic and all though brief, we can clearly see that everything that happened from the Samuroid asking for The Flash and to the battle was all part of The Thinker’s plan. He clearly has more in store and says the final words of the premiere episode: “I’m thinking.”
All in all The Flash is back to doing what it does best showing us the heroes living their lives while showing us what the villain is up to in parallel. I said this before, it stops the show from being too mushy. There were some season 1 parallels here: One member of Team Flash being dodgy (Caitlin/Killer Frost), the big bad being ahead of The Flash (The Thinker) and even some season 1 quotes to top it all off.
Side Note: Keiynan Lonsdale speaks Japanese, Awesome!
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lonepiper5758 · 7 years
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Flame Eyre
NOTE - This is not my original work. It’s a silly mash up/remix/cover version. I just edited it. I hope it may bring a smile, especially to @mylieutenant who needs a Regency fix. All credit to Charlotte Bronte. Please forgive my presumption.
The parlour looked gloomy: a neglected handful of fire burnt low in the grate; and, leaning over it, with his head supported against the high, old-fashioned mantelpiece, appeared the blind tenant of the room. His sight dog, Pilot, lay on one side, as if afraid of being inadvertently trodden upon. Pilot pricked up his ears when I came in: then he jumped up with a yelp, and bounded towards me: he almost knocked the tray from my hands. I set it on the table; then patted him, and said softly, "Lie down!" Colonel Mustang turned mechanically to see what the commotion was: but as he saw nothing, he returned and sighed.
"Give me the water, Mary," he said.
I approached him with the now only half-filled glass; Pilot followed me, still excited.
"What is the matter?" he inquired.
"Down, Pilot!" I again said. He checked the water on its way to his lips, and seemed to listen: he drank, and put the glass down. "This is you, Mary, is it not?"
"Mary is in the kitchen," I answered.
Mustang put out his hand with a quick gesture, but not seeing where I stood, he did not touch me. "Who is this? Who is this?" he demanded, trying, as it seemed, to see with those sightless eyes. “Answer me — speak again!" he ordered, imperiously and aloud.
"Will you have a little more water, Sir? I spilt half of what was in the glass," I said.
" Who is it? What is it? Who speaks?"
"Pilot knows me, and Mary knows I am here. I came only this evening," I answered.
"Great God! — what delusion has come over me? What sweet madness has seized me?"
"No delusion — no madness: your mind, Sir, is too strong for delusion, your health too sound for frenzy."
"And where is the speaker? Is it only a voice? Oh! I cannot see, but I must feel, or my heart will stop and my brain burst. Whatever — whoever you are — be perceptible to the touch or I cannot live!"
He groped; I arrested his wandering hand, and prisoned it in both mine.
"Her very fingers!" he cried; "her small, slight fingers! If so there must be more of her."
The muscular hand broke from my custody; my arm was seized, my shoulder — neck — waist — I was entwined and gathered to him.
"Is it Hawkeye? What is it? This is her shape — this is her size — "
"And this her voice," I added. "She is all here: her heart, too. God bless you, Colonel! I am glad to be so near you again."
"Hawkeye! — Riza Hawkeye," was all he said.
"My dear Colonel," I answered, "I am Riza Hawkeye: I have found you out — I am come back to you."
"In truth? — in the flesh? My living Lieutenant?"
"You touch me, Sir, — you hold me, and fast enough: I am not cold like a corpse, nor vacant like air, am I?"
"These are certainly her limbs, and these her features; but I cannot be so blest, after all my misery. It is a dream; such dreams as I have had at night when I have clasped her once more to my heart, as I do now; and kissed her, as thus — and felt that she loved me, and trusted that she would not leave me."
"Which I never will, Sir, from this day."
"Never will, says the vision? But I always woke and found it an empty mockery; and I was desolate and abandoned. It is you — is it, Hawkeye? You are come back to me then?"
"I am."
"And you do not lie dead in some ditch under some stream? And you are not a pining outcast amongst strangers?"
"No, Colonel! I am an independent woman now."
"But as you are rich, Hawkeye, you have now, no doubt, friends who will look after you, and not suffer you to devote yourself to a blind lameter like me?"
"I told you I am independent, Sir, as well as rich: I am my own mistress."
"And you will stay with me?"
"Certainly — unless you object. I will be your neighbour, your nurse, your companion — to read to you, to walk with you, to sit with you, to be eyes and hands to you. Cease to look so melancholy, my dear Colonel; you shall not be left desolate, so long as I live."
The Colonel replied not: he seemed serious — abstracted; he sighed; he half-opened his lips as if to speak: he closed them again. I felt a little embarrassed. I might have been all wrong, and was perhaps playing the fool unwittingly; and I began gently to withdraw myself from his arms — but he eagerly snatched me closer.
"No — no — Hawkeye; you must not go. No — I have touched you, heard you, felt the comfort of your presence. I cannot give up these joys. I have little left in myself — I must have you. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame."
"Well, Sir, I will stay with you: I have said so."
"Yes — but you understand one thing by staying with me; and I understand another. You, perhaps, could make up your mind to be about my hand and chair — to wait on me as a kind little nurse (for you have an affectionate heart and a generous spirit), and that ought to suffice for me no doubt: do you think so? Come — tell me."
"I will think what you like, Sir: I am content to be only your nurse, if you think it better."
"But you cannot always be my nurse, Lieutenant: you are young — you must marry one day."
"I don't care about being married."
"You should care, Hawkeye: if I were what I once was, I would try to make you care — but — a sightless block!"
He relapsed again into gloom. I, on the contrary, became more cheerful, and took fresh courage: these last words gave me an insight as to where the difficulty lay; and as it was no difficulty with me, I felt quite relieved from my previous embarrassment. I resumed a livelier vein of conversation.
"It is time some one undertook to re-humanise you," said I, parting his thick and long uncut locks; "for I see you are being metamorphosed into a lion, or something of that sort. Your hair reminds me of eagles' feathers; whether your nails are grown like birds' claws or not, I have not yet noticed."
"On these hands I have not just nails, but scars,” he said, holding up the mutilated limbs and showing them to me. “A ghastly sight! Don't you think so, Lieutenant?"
"It is a pity to see; and a pity to see your eyes: and the worst of it is, one is in danger of loving you too well for all this; and making too much of you."
"I thought you would be revolted, Hawkeye, when you saw my hands, and my cicatrised visage."
"Have you a pocket-comb about you, Colonel?"
"What for, Lieutenant?"
"Just to comb out this shaggy black mane. I find you rather alarming, when I examine you close at hand.”
Am I hideous, Hawkeye?"
"Very, Sir: you always were, you know.”
"My seared vision! My crippled strength!" he murmured regretfully.
I caressed, in order to soothe him. I knew of what he was thinking, and wanted to speak for him, but dared not. As he turned aside his face a minute, I saw a tear slide from under the sealed eyelid, and trickle down the manly cheek. My heart swelled.
"Colonel! I wanted to tease you a little to make you less sad: I thought anger would be better than grief. But if you wish me to love you, could you but see how much I do love you, you would be proud and content.
"Ah! Lieutenant. But I want a wife."
"Do you, Sir?"
"Yes: is it news to you?"
"Of course: you said nothing about it before."
"Is it unwelcome news?"
"That depends on circumstances, Sir — on your choice."
"Which you shall make for me, Hawkeye. I will abide by your decision."
"Choose then, Sir — her who loves you best ."
"I will at least choose — her I love best . Hawkeye, will you marry me?"
"Yes, Sir."
"A poor blind man, whom you will have to lead about by the hand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"A crippled man, whom you will have to wait on?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Truly, Riza?"
"Most truly, Sir."
10 notes · View notes