Lied

By now, the elephant in the room has probably grown about three stories, but don’t worry, there was no way I was going to forget Lied when he plays such a crucial role in this arc. A lot of the scenes he’s in covers all the different sections I created like character development, trauma, and undemonlike behavior at the same time, so I decided that instead of trying to break it all apart, I’d just give him his own section where he can fully shine. Every arc and self-contained story in m!ik will focus on Iruma and, usually, one or more additional character(s). Prior to the Harvest Festival, the characters bearing the weight of the story were Iruma (obviously), his adopted family (Sullivan and Opera-san), and his two closest friends (Asmodeus and Clara). Shorter stories would branch out, and many of the Misfits had their chance to shine in specific scenes of larger arcs, but in the Harvest Festival, Lied, someone outside Iruma’s family and the trio, becomes one of the most important characters, second only to Iruma. This is first brought to attention by how the Misfits are positioned in ensemble shots. Like the one above, Lied is placed front and center, drawing the readers’ attention.

When looking back on the purpose of the legendary leaf, a lot the focus is on what it means for Iruma’s future. It’s worth considering since it provides greater insight into the mystery behind Delkira, and therefore the overall plot, but we shouldn’t overlook that half of the challenge was completed by Lied. I’d say that based on this arc; Lied may be the least demonic of the actual demons. That’s not to say he isn’t at all demonic, but his defining characteristic is antithetical to demons. Lied harbors the greatest concentration of any character in the series, and it develops further in the same arc where Iruma masters a weapon unfit for demons because of how much concentration it requires. It’s not just a random trait either; that level of focus is essential to using his bloodline magic, so in order to be a better demon, Lied has to develop undemonlike qualities. Paradoxical sure, but true, nonetheless. So, his concentration is abnormal, but paired with his love of the thrill, Lied’s an absolute monster. Honestly, I have trouble categorizing Lied’s gambling and demonic or undemonic, and at this point I’m thinking it’s a mix of both. Risking his life for fun is undoubtably demonic but pushing forward when the going gets tough is decidedly not.

And that goes into what Lied enjoys. I find it hilarious that the other three afflicted Misfits were forced to confront their life-long traumas and Lied just got turned down by his crush, but that’s part of what makes Lied a likeable character. At the end of the day, he’s just a teenager with normal teenage problems. The rest of the Misfits are too, but a lot of them have these larger-than-life problems and backstories, so Lied balances out the dynamic by reminding everyone that they’re all just teenagers going to school and living life. We also have to revisit his concentration one last time, but now from a different angle. I’ve previously described how it’s impressive that the Misfits were able to overcome failure and frustration since that sort of dedication doesn’t typically come naturally to demons, but it does to Lied. Rather than balking at stress (something demons try to avoid to prevent entering a wicked phase) Lied enjoys being under pressure, making him quite the formidable opponent.

Reblog this if you think emotional abuse is a legitimate form of abuse

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alcorsnightmaresheep

7 years ago

Eldest sibling?

No, dear, you mistake me. I’m the eldritch sibling.

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alcorsnightmaresheep

6 years ago

In honor of Asexual awareness week coming up;

(Oct 21st - Oct 27th)

Smash that motherfucking reblog button if you support Asexuals and consider them a valued part of the LGBTQ+ community!

Exclusionists/Acephobes do not interact.

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alcorsnightmaresheep

5 years ago

something people don’t talk about enough: both extremes in autism

almost every autistic trait has something to do with extremes, and for most of them, autistic people can be on either end of the scale. sometimes this is for hyper/hypo sensitivity reasons, and sometimes it’s due to overcompensation.

examples of some typical autistic traits and their equally austistic counterparts:

no empathy? how about having such extreme empathy that you cry when your stuffed animals are ignored?

no/wrong facial expressions? how about exaggerated facial expressions because you learned early on you were doing it wrong?

nonverbal? how about being hyperverbal and not knowing when to stop talking?

highly advanced vocabulary? how about when you can’t remember common everyday words in conversation?

can’t tell when things are awkward? how about having such an sensitivity to awkwardness that you can barely stand being in the room when an awkward moment happens on tv?

has a meltdown over a small tag on their shirt? how about being so oblivious to physical sensations that you don’t know you broke a bone?

doesn’t follow social norms? how about a strict adherence to social norms, often accompanied by severe anxiety that you’re not doing it right?

can’t stand bright lights and loud noises? how about pressing lights so close to your eyes that you’re temporary blinded and constantly making noises when it gets too quiet?

no eye contact? how about intense, sustained eye contact that you don’t know when to break?

constantly rocking back and forth? how about being unable to walk without getting disoriented?

remember this when people say “you don’t seem autistic” - there is no quintessential autistic representation. this is what we mean when we say it’s a spectrum.

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alcorsnightmaresheep

6 years ago

writing-prompt-s:

Valhalla does not discriminate against the kind of fight you lost. Did you lose the battle with cancer? Maybe you died in a fist fight. Even facing addiction. After taking a deep drink from his flagon, Odin slams his cup down and asks for the glorious tale of your demise!

Oh my god, this is beautiful.

A small child enters Valhalla. The battle they lost was “hiding from an alcoholic father.” Odin sees the flinch when he slams the cup and refrains from doing it again. He hears the child’s pain; no glorious battle this, but one of fear and wretched survival.

He invites the child to sit with him, offers the choicest mead and instructs his men to bring a sword and shield, a bow and arrow, of the very best materials and appropriate size. “Here,” he says, “you will find no man who dares to harm you. But so you will know your own strength, and be happy all your days in Valhalla, I will teach you to use these weapons.”

The sad day comes when another child enters the hall. Odin does not slam his cup; he simply beams with pride as the first child approaches the newcomer, and holds out her bow and quiver, and says “nobody here will hurt you. Everyone will be so proud you did your best, and I’ll teach you to use these, so you always know how strong you are.”

————

A young man enters the hall. He hesitates when Odin asks his story, but at long last, it ekes out: skinheads after the Pride parade. His partner got into a building and called for help. The police took a little longer than perhaps they really needed to, and two of those selfsame skinheads are in the hospital now with broken bones that need setting, but six against one is no fair match. The fear in his face is obvious: here, among men large enough to break him in two, will he face an eternity of torment for the man he left behind?

Odin rumbles with anger. Curses the low worms who brought this man to his table, and regales him with tales of Loki so to show him his own welcome. “A day will come, my friend, when you seek to be reunited, and so you shall,” Odin tells him. “To request the aid of your comrades in battle is no shameful thing.”

———-

A woman in pink sits near the head of the table. She’s very nearly skin and bones, and has no hair. This will not last; health returns in Valhalla, and joy, and light, and merrymaking. But now her soul remembers the battle of her life, and it must heal.

Odin asks.

And asks again.

And the words pour out like poisoned water, things she couldn’t tell her husband or children. The pain of chemotherapy. The agony of a mastectomy, the pain still deeper of “we found a tumor in your lymph nodes. I’m so sorry.” And at last, the tortured question: what is left of her?

Odin raises his flagon high. “What is left of you, fair warrior queen, is a spirit bright as fire; a will as strong as any forged iron; a life as great as any sea. Your battle was hard-fought, and lost in the glory only such furor can bring, and now the pain and fight are behind you.“

In the months to come, she becomes a scop of the hall–no demotion, but simple choice. She tells the stories of the great healers, Agnes and Tanya, who fought alongside her and thousands of others, who turn from no battle in the belief that one day, one day, the war may be won; the warriors Jessie and Mabel and Jeri and Monique, still battling on; the queens and soldiers and great women of yore.

The day comes when she calls a familiar name, and another small, scarred woman, eyes sunken and dark, limbs frail, curly black hair shaved close to her head, looks up and sees her across the hall. Odin descends from his throne, a tall and foaming goblet in his hands, and stuns the hall entire into silence as he kneels before the newcomer and holds up the goblet between her small dark hands and bids her to drink.

“All-Father!” the feasting multitudes cry. “What brings great Odin, Spear-Shaker, Ancient One, Wand-Bearer, Teacher of Gods, to his knees for this lone waif?”

He waves them off with a hand.

“This woman, LaTeesha, Destroyer of Cancer, from whom the great tumors fly in fear, has fought that greatest battle,” he says, his voice rolling across the hall. “She has fought not another body, but her own; traded blows not with other limbs but with her own flesh; has allowed herself to be pierced with needles and scored with knives, taken poison into her very veins to defeat this enemy, and at long last it is time for her to put her weapons down. Do you think for a moment this fight is less glorious for being in silence, her deeds the less for having been aided by others who provided her weapons? She has a place in this great hall; indeed, the highest place.”

And the children perform feats of archery for the entertainment of all, and the women sing as the young man who still awaits his beloved plays a lute–which, after all, is not so different from the guitar he once used to break a man’s face in that great final fight.

Valhalla is a place of joy, of glory, of great feasting and merrymaking.

And it is a place for the soul and mind to heal.

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alcorsnightmaresheep

7 years ago