*crawls out from under your bed as you sleep* anyway another cool thing about #TheWitcher is how they weren't worried about subversion or deconstruction. A lot of the characters lean on tropes and let the relationships between them explore the depth of those tropes.
*disappears as you wake up in a cold sweat* it's a cool thing to observe in this day and age. Stories, especially long-running nerd stories, tend to get catalogued, codified, arranged, so that subversion is the only joy left. #TheWitcher avoids this by being unconcerned with it.
*crawls across your ceiling as you try to fall back asleep* it's worth noting, since as our more prominent media starts to rely on subversion, a subtle pressure is exerted and writers begin to think ALL stories need this, when that isn't true. Subversion is fun, but not necessary
*descends from above to whisper in your ear* in fact, it can end up sucking. When you set a story up based on subverting an expectation, your characters start acting in expectation OF that subversion, sacrificing unexplored conflicts and relationships as they march to that end.
*chases you as you run screaming out of the room* but what's interesting is how #TheWitcher doesn't even bother. There's still tropes: a gruff and tough monster hunter, a spoony bard, a sexy and mysterious sorceress. They just let these tropes DEEPEN their characters and conflict
*answers as you pick up the phone to call for help* confidentially, I think some people didn’t bother looking deeper than these tropes, which can be a hazard. But note #TheWitcher didn’t worry about the people who were deliberate about not getting it, another important lesson
*pursues you into the woods* crucially, though, #TheWitcher is concerned with how these tropes create problems for their characters. Swords and magic can’t solve the important problems and often make them worse
*whispers to you from the oppressive trees* we accept these problems readily, since the tropes give us framework to refer to unconsciously, which is good because the tropes are only framework: the meat of the story is how the characters react to these problems they have.
*bursts out of the damp earth in front of you* in this way, the tropes provide a recognizable framework that then squeezes the characters, letting us get into their conflicts right off the bat. By choosing NOT to worry about subversion, #TheWitcher lets us worry about the people.
*drags you down into a lightless warren* the takeaway here is trust #TheWitcher trusts its audience to get what it’s doing and doesn’t worry about those who don’t
And because all elements of storytelling are connected, this trust lets us care more about the people than the tropes
*entombs you within a cocoon* trust is what lets you tell a human story; trust in the characters to do things that make the plot messy, trust in the audience to get it
it's not flawless--in fact, it's quite messy--but messy stories resonate, messy stories get remembered
*adds you to a grotesque web* Anyway, it's kind of a shame that so many stories get judged primarily by subversions, intricacies, twists; these are technicalities, side dishes. They can be great, but they aren't meant to nourish like a main course is
anyway, I was going to add a summary, but my dog needs to go outside so I guess I'll just trust you to figure out what you need to from this!
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My neighbors, the Perkinses, have started worshiping a Dread God and they just will not shut up about it.
"Oh, you'll never guess what The Unsleeping One showed us in our dreams!" they say. "We know many terrible truths now!"
Did they ask about my new haircut? No, of course not.
I've caught them out shuffling around in the dark, trying to catch raccoons. Sometimes I see them talking to their mirrors, crying a little.
And of course I find them standing outside my windows in the dead of night.
I get 'em with the spray bottle, but that won't work forever.
And now everything has got to be about The Unsleeping One.
"Let's sacrifice a raccoon!" they say. "Come on over and see the new altar of basalt!"
And I go, "Why not bowling?"
But then they just bend their limbs in impossible angles and scuttle off like fleshcrabs, the big babies.
I like the shows where Gordon Ramsay visits a struggling business and finds their problem and it's something like all the food is a nutrient-rich paste excreted by a semi-sentient snail in the freezer that has existed since the dawn of time in defiance of god's laws.
"And the Snail..."
"We call it the Ygunngagupp."
*muttering* "fuck me they call it the Ygunngagupp. It makes the paste?"
"The paste, yes. It makes the paste that makes you hear the whispers."
"It whispers to you?"
"The terrifying secrets of creation, that's right, Gordon."
"Now why aren't you using local tastes? Ingredients from the area?"
"Well, the snail comes from Below."
"From Below? You're serving customers food from The Children of The Cursed Earth?"
"Well, to save costs--"
"To hell with the costs, man, they're the world's nightmares!"
My fool godson, William, went down to the basement to get a snack four days ago
I told him--every time I tell him--to COUNT the stairs as he goes down. There's only 12. If it goes to 13, come back up and try again. And don't follow the thing singing down there
But does he listen?
"Have you tried going down there and calling for him?"
Yes, smart guy, I did, and he called for me to come down and join him in the dark. So OBVIOUSLY, the thing down there has learned his voice. I'm a homeowner--this isn't my first hellmouth.
I'm hearing screaming billowing up from the staircase like smoke from a dying fire, carrying with it the sound of suffering--so I guess I need to go down there and sort it out.
Everyone says "oh, you'll barely notice the hellmouth, every house has issues."
Not like this, Mavis!
orc who gets laid off from rampaging across the countryside and has to get a new job as a high school teacher
"Gregory. I have graded your essay."
"You can call me Greg, Mr. Bloodmaw."
"I would not grant you the honor of that, Gregory. Not after I have seen the weakness in your spirit and your textual analysis of Melville. You have earned this C, Gregory. Will you break beneath it?"
"You shed tears of weakness, Stephanie. Why."
"My parents took away my phone, Mr. Bloodmaw."
"When I disappointed the elders as a child, I was cast into the Pit of Fangs. I strangled 20 serpents before escaping. Their venom is still in me. Pain is the warrior's gift, Stephanie."
the "fandom is religion" discourse feels like it will end with paramilitaries named after disney characters
the Goof Troop will be a source of dread and horror
the silhouettes of mouse ears cast by flickering flames of your burning home
the cheerful jingle of It's A Small World blaring from the detention van cannot drown out the wails of despair of those disappeared inside
you were warned not to cancel disney+
why didn't you listen
knees shatter when they throw you to the ground, but it's not like you could run, anyway
an asshole wearing a bloodied mascot costume head looms--a holy man
"crimes against the founders," they accuse you of, "crimes against mickey"
there is only one crime
it has only one sentence
god damn it I wish people would stop sending me cursed portraits
every fucking time I open the mail there's some manner of hellworld sprawling out from a gilded frame, banished back behind canvas only through the oldest magic
I'd throw them out but someone worked hard on them
one time I thought I was pinning up a nice drawing my kid did in art class on the refrigerator
it was midnight when I remembered I don't have a kid
took me days to hunt the horrific scribble-creature that emerged, its smile a crude grimace
goddamn abomination got in the pipes
I gotta say, though, not all curses are equal
I got a painting here that's just of a horse
not an evil horse or anything, just a regular-ass horse
it peers out the painting at night and whinnies, sometimes takes a shit
still annoying, don't get me wrong