Complement

I am Watcher, and I am Untempered's shadow.

She has a name--they all do, come to that. Long ago, in her first age, in their first age, some would ask her for it. They spoke the language she had, then, so recognized that what they called her--Watcher--was no name, but a title. The askers faded in numbers, slowly, slowly enough that she didn't notice for centuries when they stopped altogether.

She picked up new languages as most people adjust to new temperatures. One might put on a coat, or take one off, but one barely notices any minor shifts. Old German to new German, or to Old English; Latin to French and Spanish and Italian...she was there, alive. In the first years, only her family noticed, and she when they told her, that she slipped into the accent of those she spoke with. As languages changed, she slipped into the new ones, hardly noticing the change.

She could notice, when she paid attention: hear the subtleties or obvious differences. But the only time she had to notice was when they spoke her title, her for-all-practical-purposes-name, in one of the new tongues. Her name was still Watcher to her, and these odd words for it always sounded uncanny--I am watcher, and watcher, and one who watches, yet they only know me for Watcher. None asked her name, anymore. Watcher was a name, now, though uncommon in most of the world. Even in those places that would find it an odd name for one of their own, it made perfect sense that she was Watcher. Some tried to make meaning of it, but few, and ever fewer. It was like a child named Violet--hardly anyone mentioned it; fewer sought meaning.

They had trouble guessing why she had her 'name'. Why was a trickster called Watcher? She made mischief. Perhaps it was for a habit of making particularly ingenious plans, for watching every angle? But the myths did not speak of planning, merely of a shadow that tripped the mighty.

And no one--no one at all--guessed why Untempered was called that. They guessed that it was because he was known for fighting bare-handed, so lacked any tempered steel. Which bothered Watcher intensely whenever she thought of it, because they were going by a pun that did not exist in the language, or hadn't when he was titled first: To temper steel and to temper oneself. Temper became what one did to steel, because they had no word in their language, so they translated the word the other languages had and used it for both.

His hands clench into fists, now, as another says just the wrong thing. And Untempered is strong, and quick in movement but not in thought, which means that he never turns off a train of thought, having started on it.

I see this, as I must see it always, as I do see it as often as I can.

(I am a watcher. A shadow that trips the mighty needs to see who, how, and when.)

Then a rubber ball from the display behind me finds its way into my hand, and who am I to deny the poor thing its purpose? It might cheer me up, at least. "Hey, Untempered!"

His head whips around, ready to snarl, just in time for the child's toy to snap into his nose. "Ow!" The train of thought does not break, but he's after me, as I laugh in his face and skip away. Never running, of course: I might get away.

Untempered is my charge. Willed as such to me when our guardians passed, for he learned more slowly than I. Those of shorter generations forget, for I was not to speak of it, nor was anyone else. For he would not stand being a charge. So I walked beside him as a shadow, and waited through centuries for him to grow up.

After the first few millennia, though I yet walked, I gave up waiting.

Letter, Spirit, Reason

Law as written: All demonic influences are to be removed as quickly and thoroughly as is possible.

Letter: Utterly destroy anything that has been touched by a demon.

Spirit: Exorcise demons as efficiently and with as little death as is possible.

Reason: Protect the people.

Let's say we have a situation where there is a demon rampaging around town, possessing people, etc. By the letter of the law, one should utterly destroy the town. By the spirit or the reason, one should evacuate the town and fight the demon down. There are probably some other things you could do; I'm hitting extremes; just go with it.

Let's say a demon is repeatedly possessing the same person. By the letter, kill the person. By the spirit, exorcise the demon and watch and protect the person. By reason, set a priest to watch over the person, one who can perform exorcisms. The priest need not follow the person everywhere, it is just supposed to be the priest's main duty, so someone is always on deck. If the demon gives up long enough, then the priest can go on to something else. But there should be someone present who can do this, even if it isn't the primary job.

Let's say there's a good demon. Go with me on this. By the letter of the law, kill the demon anyway. It doesn't matter whether harm is being done, a demon is a demon. By spirit, get the demon out of town, one way or another. If following the spirit well, then this can even be done without bloodshed. Following the reason: Let the demon be. This demon is not dangerous.

People will talk about how a law should be upheld because it is the law. In situations where one requires a knee-jerk or immediate response, this is probably the best one can do. But if one ignores the reason of the law, that can be worse than ignoring the spirit. At least people who violate the spirit in favor of the letter are easier to expose. For people who follow the spirit instead of the reason, there's not even anything on the books.

This post written under the influence of painkillers (see previous post).

Being Broken

"They can't break me, as long as I know who I am."

-I'm Still Here, from Treasure Planet

This occurred to me a little while ago. I don't know when I finished the thought, but I do know what it came out to. We say someone is broken, or talk about breaking someone, but it's treated like this thing where you have to go through x, y, and z, and each must be done perfectly, without hesitation, and only by this manipulative mastermind.

And that's not it. Breaking someone is simply what the full phrase suggests: Breaking someone to your will (singular or plural you). If you have a specific idea in mind for what to do to someone else, then yes, you need to be a genius to pull it off properly, at least one in the ways of the human psyche. But you do not need to be up against a genius to be broken. You don't need to be strictly up against anyone. It can just be a group of neutral people who push you, pull you, shape you, until you fit their idea of what you should be.

The easiest way to break someone I've seen is erosion. You have different people in different groups with no connection, and you just hammer and wash and blow across them until they aren't themselves anymore. You're annoying, be like this. You're stupid, leave me alone. You like what? Ick.

And the thing is, once you realize that, it becomes much harder to be broken. Because, whether another person is trying to or not, if you can spot what would break you, you can fight against it. You stand up and you push back, instead of just being pulled. It won't always work--humans are social animals, so we're supposed to listen to the pack--but it helps. Who are you, where are you going, and why do you care what they say?

Tropes (as per usual, thought of afterward) (Oh, and addictive)
Break The Cutie
Broken Bird
Earn Your Happy Ending
The Woobie

Musings #2

Being a musing, this isn't quite breaking the hiatus.

If angels can fall, why can't they rise?

This, being the phrase that popped into my head that spurred this musing, is not actually that related to the post. Yeah, I know.

I have been thinking about stories we see. And we see stories where this ignorant person figures something out--that's a basic story, the protagonist changes for the better, or just changes. An especially common variant would be a coming-of-age story, which, given the above musing-starter, immediately makes me think Adam and Eve. They gain knowledge, and so they have to leave paradise and wear clothes and work for their food and place in the world.

And we sometimes have theses intricate stories about The Fall of X. Or The Rise of X. But unless X is a place or society, we don't see both. Or rather, we do, but the Fall is horribly oversimplified. Let's say John's an angel (don't look at me like that, Michael's an angel). John fell to the sin of lust. He will, naturally, fall in love to reclaim his virtue, and we will learn all about him and this new girl, let's call her Charlotte. Charlotte will be a well-rounded character, and so will John. We will sympathize with them, and maybe even come to think of John's banishment as unfair--it will probably at least cross Charlotte's mind, even if she's knows it's wrong while she's thinking it. But this girl he fell in lust with--even if they fell in love and spent her entire life together--this girl? Who's she? Do we even have a name for her? Oh. Hm. Says the author was considering calling her either Jessica or Diane, but decided it wasn't important.

(You can see why I told you up front the blog post was going to be pretty separate from the starting phrase.)

So it is easy to fall, and difficult to rise, as it is with all things. Makes sense, right? I mean, you see something, you want to sin, you sin, you're done. Right?

Right?

I hope not. If it's that easy, then anyone hoping to save any souls has an even harder job than it appears. If it's just see it, want it, sin it, then the soul will surely be lost tomorrow. If it is so easy, then it must be lost...

Of course, the point of the ordeal is that the person rises out of it stronger. It's supposed to be all about how John was weak enough to sin, and is now strong enough to resist. That may be the reason why the story of how he spent, oh, let's say twenty years with this other girl is left in the shadows--can you imagine making a story where the guy wants the girl for reasons of solely lust, they stay together for any amount of time, and you have to keep him sympathetic? There are things an audience will forgive, and things it won't...and there are a great many things they will forgive off-screen that they won't forgive if it happened on-screen. Imagine the Deathstar blowing up a planet where we have seen the people, the children, playing. Or there were some sympathetic characters, maybe even one that had a plan to stop Vader. It's suddenly a lot harder to stomach. How can you convince the audience he's changed if you've let him, in your story, do something unforgivable?

And so we get this vague idea of what John's done wrong, enough to know it was terrible, not enough to feel spiteful towards him (taking into account the character the author is showing us).

The other way around would actually be a pretty nice way to introduce a villain with a good reputation. Imagine: we know every detail of what John's done wrong, but his atonement is glossed over. So we know (to grab a few things out of my hat of mustache-twirling villainy) that John faked feelings for Diane--yes, she has a name now. We know that Diane was an innocent little thing he led down the wrong path that ended in her dying young, cold and alone, in a dark little alley, her throat cut by his blade, by his choice, by his coins, but not by his hands, because he wouldn't dirty them. And we know she deserved so much better. And his atonement? A little thing. He fell in love--but again, this is glossed over, so could be interpreted as lust--and got the girl of his dreams? That is his atonement? Oh, sure, he fought for her, but when compared to all those horrible things he did to Diane, how can we believe he deserves one ounce of the joy he feels with this nameless girl? Is she horrible enough to think that this is okay, or is she stupid and he's leading another innocent down this path?

So we gloss over parts of the history. Not because they're not important. Because they were very important. It was very important that they were overcome, and so it is very important that the audience acknowledges them. However, John is not that man anymore. You cannot blame him for sins anymore than you could blame a child. It's not that he was cruel, it's that he was lost, and there was no one there to lead him. He has found himself, and there have been years of atonement--or there haven't, but there have been years where he was not that person. A child is not given a pass because of age. A child is given a pass because the person you are moving against the next day is not there anymore. When John is reinventing himself, yes, he has to take responsibility for his past actions. But we do not show them because they are no longer defining character moments. If the author put something there in the story, there's a reason, so if there isn't a reason, it doesn't belong there.

This post started on one note and ended on another. It needs another phrase, and I think I have a good one:

"Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn't."
-Patch in Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick (pg. 305, hardcover)

Oh, the tropes for this are fun...
Politically Correct History (This wouldn't've happened this way, but if I show it as it would have, the audience will hate this guy!)
*The Women Are Safe With Us (The heroes' men don't rape, even if they're mercenaries in medieval times.)
Deliberate Values Dissonance (Remember my note about not showing stuff unless you want the audience to hook onto it? This is when the author doesn't do that--because, at the time, this behavior was normal.)
Good Flaws Bad Flaws ("One major exception to this trope is this: A character who has a "bad" flaw is allowed to be the hero if the experiences of their journey inspire them to cast off this flaw.")
*Good Smoking Evil Smoking