A witch puts a spell on a girl, a sleeping spell that promises the girl shall wake through true love’s kiss. Men come and kiss her. She slumbers. Women come and press their lips to hers, but still she sleeps. Many years past, and the girl remains still. One bright morning, a lost little boy finds her resting spot and clears the dust and grime from her face. He offers her a kiss on her forehead, and her eyes flutter open. She never feels romantic love for a man nor a woman, and she cares for the boy until the day she dies.
A young woman is imprisoned in a castle by a monstrously formed prince. The servants of the castle hope for them to fall in love, and when the spell is broken they assume their prayers have been answered. They are all surprised, but nonetheless pleased, when it is revealed to them that the young woman and prince are the truest of friends, and nothing more.
They say the kingdom is ruled by an evil queen, a woman who is incapable of loving. She is unmarried, she has no consorts, and she wishes for no partner. She is the wretched queen, the heartless queen. She must hate her daughter, for her daughter is beautiful, and women are incapable of liking another woman who’s prettier than themselves. It must be for this reason that the princess was sent away, not for how she was attacked by a man in the woods. They say the kingdom is ruled by an evil queen because she cannot love. The queen loves her daughter, and that is enough for them both.
There lives a prince who is forced to choose a bride at the ball. He meets many beautiful women, but find none which he loves. He spies one in a gorgeous gown and wonder in her eyes, and he dances with her all night long. The kingdom is sure he has found his bride. When the clock strikes midnight he tells her how he will never love a woman, or a man, in the way he is expected to. The beautiful woman smiles and tells him she expects nothing from him. The next morning the prince and the beautiful woman are missing, having run off together to see the world. They leave their shoes behind in their haste.
Many kinds of love exist. It doesn’t all have to be romantic.
a. So Obi Wan Kenobi basically ends up going, “NOPE. FUCK THIS NOISE.” and decides to raise baby Luke Skywalker himself.
(He’s not a true Jedi anymore; not when he can see all the mistakes he’s made with Anakin in full, excruciating detail. Not when those closely held values of detachment and denial of emotions have led to fire and death and grief and…
No. He will not turn. He might not be a perfect Jedi, but he won’t turn to the Dark Side.)
b. So he loves Luke with all his heart and baby Luke is basically the teeniest, most adorable ball of sunshine and light and his smiles are a balm on Obi Wan’s broken heart.
c. Also. Obi-Wan joins the Rebellion. Because hope doesn’t just lie in Jedi and the Light Side of the Force. Hope lies in the people who are willing to live and die for their freedom, who are there to resist the Empire and its lies.
d. Eventually, Obi-Wan finds Rex and Ahsoka and of course, that means baby Luke has more family members who will love him. Maybe he’s not growing up as royalty the way Leia is, but he is equally treasured and precious to Uncle Rex and Aunt ‘Soka.
(Except Luke calls her Snips - just out of the blue - even though Obi Wan has never told him about this nickname and he doesn’t understand why Aunt ‘Soka suddenly catches him up in her arms and holds him tight tight tight. He thinks he’s made her sad but Aunt ‘Soka tells him she can be his Aunt Snips and thus, Aunt Snips she became.)
e. Obi Wan does not want to put the burden of stopping Vader on Luke’s shoulders. It is monstrously unfair and neither Luke nor Leia should be burdened with the task of repairing their father’s mistakes. This was Obi-Wan’s failure and it is his job to make it right.
f. Vader chases after Obi-Wan’s ghost in various Rebel skirmishes - Jedi who mysteriously disappear and escape his finest soldiers,. Imperial shipyards being sabotaged, the best scientists of the Empire making successful defections. He is always just one step behind, just one moment too late. Vader’s rage knows no bounds.
(Vader never sees or hears about the child in Obi-Wan’s care. His heart has already been buried in the royal tombs of Naboo, where Padme Amidala lies in her forever sleep.)
g. There is a holo of little Luke and little Jyn Erso playing together. Jyn has not smiled in months as her father and mother have desperately tried to flee the Empire, so that they would not be forced to keep working on its latest monstrosity. It is Luke who has made her laugh again for the first time as they ran and chased each other.
h. Luke’s first friend, first crush and his idol is the dashing Cassian Andor.
i. Obi Wan finds healing and a new outlook/philosophy on the Force when he becomes friends with Chirrut Imwe and Baze Malbus. He and Luke make the pilgrimage to the Holy City of Jeddah and while Luke is too young to understand, the ruins of its ancient temple make the child “feel good.” For Obi-Wan, it is a peace he’s not felt in years.
j. Some things are still meant to happen. Obi-Wan and Vader clash over the years but each duel is inconclusive and both men walk away alive. It takes years for the Rebel Alliance to gain steam. Galen Erso still falls into the hands of the Empire. The pilot Bodhi Rook still defects to the Rebels. Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor still lead a desperate group to Shariff to retrieve the Death Star plans.
k. The difference is that Luke Skywalker defies his somewhat overprotective Uncle Ben, having stolen a ship to Shariff to rescue all of his friends. They barely make it off planet as the Death Star blows up its Imperial base, but Luke’s gotten to be a very good pilot and will spend his downtime happily chatting away with Bodhi Rook.
l. Baze spends a few minutes yelling at Chirrut for having the “suicidal tendencies of an Alderaanian lemmingray” before kissing him stupid and it is the first good laugh that Rogue One has, even as they are all safe and sound and alive.
m. Luke grins even though he knows he’s in deep trouble with Uncle Ben. There is a transmission from him - Darth Vader is now in hot pursuit of those lost plans and he is chasing after the Tantive IV. They will all rendezvous with Princess Leia on Tatooine.
It begins. A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…
Additionally, he would physically and emotionally abuse his children and wife. The following are quotes from Cynthia Lennon, in her book “John”:
“Before I could speak he raised his arm and hit me across the face, knocking my head into the pipes that ran down the wall behind me. Without a word he waked away, leaving me dazed, shaky, and with a very sore head.”
“John’s erratic behaviour around Julian continued - fun one moment and violent anger the next. And he could be like this with Sean too, reducing the little boy to tears of terror.”
“The whole family had been having fun, making Mickey Mouse pancakes and fooling around, when Julian giggled. John turned on him and screamed, ‘I can’t stand the way you fucking laugh! Never let me hear your fucking horrible laugh again.’ He continued with a tirade of abuse until Julian fled once again to his room in tears. It was monstrously cruel and has affected him ever since. To this day he seldom laughs.”
Below is a quote from John Lennon:
“I used to be cruel to my woman, I beat her and kept her apart from the things that she loved. I used to be cruel to my woman, and physically — any woman. I was a hitter. I couldn’t express myself and I hit. I fought men and I hit women.”
Below is a quote from Sean Lennon, his son:
[He was] teaching me how to cut and eat steak, which was a mystery to me at age 4; how to stick the fork in and cut behind it, and that was how you got a piece in your mouth. I think it was that night when he got very upset with me, I think because of something I did very cheekily with the steak. He did wind up yelling at me very, very loudly to the point where he damaged my ear, and I had to go to the hospital.”
I’ve seen crowdfunded projects crash and burn, but for my money, one of the most entertaining failures was a Kickstarted tabletop roleplaying game a few years back. I won’t be naming any names, since the poor guy’s clearly having a hard enough time as it is, but there should be enough information in this post to hunt it down if you’re morbidly curious.
Anyway, the target was met and exceeded, and the projected due date came and went. Nobody was particularly surprised, since crowdfunded indie projects basically never make their projected deadlines. Months passed, apologies were issued, backers were repeatedly reassured that everything was on track - the usual song and dance.
A few more months passed. Updates were scant, and handful of people asked for refunds, receiving them after variable amounts of dicking around. Not necessarily a sign of catastrophe, but folks were getting antsy, and the backer updates had been silent for an unusually long time.
Then right out of the blue, this big, ranty post went up, in which the project owner set forth the following:
1. The fact that people backed his project proved that the backers had surplus income, and the fact that they chose to spend it on financing the production of luxury goods (i.e., tabletop RPGs) rather than immediately giving it to the poor proved that they’re all bourgeois scum.
2. More narrowly, the backers had wronged him in particular by backing his project. Since that money was theoretically contingent upon the delivery of finished goods, the act of backing his project represented a monstrously predatory act of economic coercion against him.
3. In redress for this wrong, he would be keeping all of the remaining money, and neither a finished game nor any further refunds would be forthcoming. Anybody who felt slighted by this decision should take it up with the other backers, since it was their fault for creating the situation in the first place.
Dude’s Kickstarter crashed and burned so hard, he became a radical socialist.
Vlad isn’t used to being interrupted while working in his
lab. Its walls are reinforced lead and its ceiling is buried twenty feet below
basement level. The room is missing from the building plans, invisible to the
code specs, and inaccessible to any snooping government agents. The Guys in
White’s detection equipment has never found it. They would have better luck
finding some hollowed out space by banging on the side of their own heads.
So when Vlad hears the clatter of tripped-over machine parts
and light, breathy cursing from behind him, he knows no normal person has come
to find him. This makes him crack a razor-fanged smile. Vlad lowers the welding
torch he’d been using to stitch some metal parts together for a new portal hub.
He raises the goggles from off his red eyes, and turns around in mock
“Daniel you should have told me you were coming. I would
have put some tea on for the both of us.”
Vlad is right—Danny is standing at the other end of the lab,
but he doesn’t look how Vlad had pictured. No jumpsuit, no balled-up fists, no
murderous green glinting eyes. Danny is entirely human, and he looks only a bit
bothered, like he’s thinking too hard about what to say.
“Vlad,” Danny settles on.
Vlad’s smile doesn’t waver. He takes a few steps forward,
boots clacking out hollow sonorous beats on the cavernous floor. Danny seeking
him out is almost always a treat. It means he’s done something to annoy or
frustrate or enrage Danny enough to be sought out without any effort on Vlad’s
part. It’s already a victory of sorts for Vlad, and he’s eager to know what he’s
Vlad spreads his arms, as if to encompass the far wall of enormous
floating monitors, the pink-swirling portal in the back left corner, the tables
and shelves filled with cobbled-together metal gadgets. Vlad glances down.
There are three empty toppled paint cans at Danny’s feet, clearly tripped over
and just now settling.
“So, to what do I owe this delight? Have you come to hear about my specs for the new Maddie AI? Or maybe you’d like to hear about my
recent cloning breakthroughs. Or—“ Vlad swoops in closer, circling Danny,
delighting in the way Danny’s head whips about to follow his motions, “—is there
something else even better you’d like to discuss?”
Vlad frowns just slightly. There’s no passion in Danny’s
voice, rare for a kid motivated almost entirely by his unstable emotions. There’s
no fire in his eyes either. No accusation or quick remark lashing from his
tongue. Danny’s eyes are calm, and his tone is simply flat.
“What, then?” Vlad asks, and he loses the traction of their
“I went on a college visit yesterday.”
Vlad pauses. He’s half-stooped over Danny, expecting more to
be said. Vlad finds himself with nothing to go on. “…Okay,” he says.
“I like the place a lot. And people with my grades get in
there all the time. Especially if I keep them up for the rest of junior year I
stand a good chance.”
“Then why are you telling me.” Vlad slides away from Danny.
His hope of being cursed out is fading, and his brow furrows. His face
brightens at a sudden thought, “Did you feel the urge to tell me because I’ve
simply become a sort of father figure to you?”
“I want to go there. It’s three hours away by car. One and a
half by the Fenton RV, but that’s with my dad driving.” Danny’s voice has
become clinical, like the very words are tedious, like he’s talking to a
customer service representative and he’s bored. “And it’s an hour away if I
“Get to the point Daniel. I’m a busy man.”
“No you’re not. You just have a lot of creepy pet projects.”
Danny motions stiffly to the pod-like vats that once contained Danny’s old
clones. “My point is I can’t keep super-heroing if I go there.”
“Ah,” Vlad brightens again. He leans in. “A crisis then? A
conflict of character, of morality, and you’ve come to me for advice? You’re
desperate to know if you can hang up your cape to chase a dream so banal as a
normal college life?”
“God—no—shut up just a minute. Not everything’s that
dramatic.” Danny leans away, sizing Vlad up. “My angsty teenage phase has been
over for like a year. And what are you, like, 40? Chill out for like five
minutes, for once.”
Vlad deflates a little, frowning.
Danny clears his throat to continue. “I’m not ‘hanging up my
cape’. I’m not making any rash decisions. I’m just going to college, because
that’s what I want to do, for me. And I’m doing it. I’ve still got my own life
to live. But that means I’m not around
Amity to help with the ghost patrol.”
“You’d willfully leave them unprotected, hmm?”
“Please. Mom and Dad are still kicking ghost ass in the
meantime. And I’m not that irresponsible.
I’m hiring a replacement.”
Danny snorts. “Hell no. She’s got a full ride to some
college out in Michigan for field hockey. She’s getting the hell out like I am.”
Danny’s face sobers. “No, I’m hiring you, Vlad. You’re going to pick up
whatever slack I leave behind, got it?”
Vlad’s face splits into a grin, and he barks a laugh. Then
he throws his head back and roars, teeth glinting, eyes deeply red and alight.
He regains his composure with a few rolling chuckles, and fixes Danny with a
condescending smirk. “Oh, adorable. You think you can make me do what you want.”
“Yeah, I can.”
“Can,” Danny answers firmly. “Because if you refuse, then I’m
going back home, and the second I get through that front door, I’m doing this.”
Danny straightens his shoulders just a fraction, and a glimmering white ring
splits at his midsection, enveloping him, repainting him as something sallow
and yet bright, cold and yet flickering hot, dead and so monstrously alive. And
in some ways, he looks exactly the same. “I realized I don’t care about keeping
my secret anymore, really. Mom and Dad accept Phantom as a helper way more
often than they ever try to shoot at him, and they’d accept me. And I don’t
think it would really change much anymore. I’m not 14 anymore. I could handle
letting them know.”
Vlad’s jaw is tight. “…So?”
“So that’s where we’re different, V-man.” Danny flashes a
condescending smile to match the one Vlad had worn. “You can’t dare to let them
know. The Wisconsin Ghost? You? God, it would end you. My parents, and the town,
and the government—they’d all be at your throat in an instant. You’d lose
everything.” Danny rocks back on his heels. “And I’ll out you in a heartbeat if
you give me a reason to. Because you don’t hold any leverage against me
anymore, Vlad. I’ve grown up, and I’m over it.”
“I do.” Another flash, and the rings sweep past Danny to
reveal the simple body of a human once more.
“…Just for college?” Vlad doesn’t like the edge in his
voice, the quiet anxiety. “Four years?”
Danny shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll come back home after
college if it turns out ghost hunting is the thing I wanna do with my life. Maybe
I won’t.” Danny steps forward, encroaching on Vlad, suddenly taller and surer
than Vlad had ever seen him. “I’ll be home during breaks—I’m sure I’ll happily
pick up the ghost hunting then. But maybe I’ll get an internship somewhere?
Maybe I’ll take a term abroad, you know? Maybe I’ll stay a whole lot of years
more and get my PhD in astrophysics. ‘Dr. Fenton’, like my mom. It’s got a nice
ring to it.”
“You wouldn’t…” Vlad mutters. “Who says I’ll keep doing it
that long, hmm?”
“Go ahead. Break your promise whenever. But the second you
do, I’m giving your identity to everyone I know. And besides. You’re not going
anywhere anyway.” Danny takes a few steps back, and motions around him. “This?
Your whole secret lair down here? You’ve tethered yourself to this place. You’ve
got no family anywhere, and you’ve got no ambitions in your life that don’t
involve me or my mom. You’re 40 and you’re sad and you’ve made your bed here
and I know you don’t intend to go anywhere else, even with all your money,
because what purpose would you even have anywhere else, Vlad? You could do this
for the rest of your life, picking up my slack. You just might.”
Danny flashes to ghost form again, and kicks off into the
air, and hovers up to the ceiling from which he entered.
“Me, Vlad? I’m young, and I’ve got my life ahead of me, and
I can still do something with it. I’m everything you’re not.”
Vlad says nothing. He only stares. He hears only static in
“See you later, or maybe never again, Fruit Loop.”
The first encounter with life on Sol2487-3 - we called it “weeny wacky mudpot”, at least for the time being - would proof itself as one of the most gruesome experiences of my life. We enterd the “field”, as Dr. Proaxl named it, but in fact it was a jungle. The stems of that cultivated grass reached far into the sky, almost as far as anyone could see. The soil underneath was brown, crumbling, muddy, and smelled like a space corps’ field latrine in Pjörecian summer. Our expedition platoon consisted of in total four security squads members, including Loxxar Kraes, respectively two members of both medical and scientific squad, on top of that Dr. Proaxl, my first mate Xato Nexgrra and myself. Eleven trained and experienced ambassadors of the Intergalactic Federation of Peace in Space, half of our ship’s crew. The other half stood behind and secured the ship.
As we ranged the woods, suddenly a creature stepped out of the shadows. Our first encounter! Following the protocoll, we stayed alerted, but calm and peacefully. The creature was about our size, quite round and, well, fluffy. Its skin looked like it was covered of billions of the Grdklean Firewrappers poisonous prickles - hopefully it wasn’t as toxic as them. But our protective gear should grant our safety. The creature approached us on all four of its limbs, and began to collect grains that were scatterd around the ground and nibbled peacefully on them while it peered at us. Its eyes were dark and round and full of… nothingness. Did it even see us? Did it even comprehend the fact that it had encountered life from outer space? This one clearly couldn’t be one of this planet’s sentinent races. I at least couldn’t remember of any sentinent race that used the same limbs for running as for eating. And this empty glance, uninvolved to anything on this planet and propably the entire universe and… for Xaleates’ sake, just how many of that grains could this thing fit in its cheeks?! “Look how it’s stuffing itself” smirked Loxxar Kraes, “those grains must be quite delicious. Maybe we should take some, to…” As soon as he reached for one of the grains, the gates of Xyrrhos hells opened. The creature, just a second before dispassionate as a rock, jumped at him like a rabid Rjurcean Brooax. Fangs as long as my head burrowed into Loxxar Kraes’ breastplate. Fortunately it was designed for and tested in outer space, so there was no way it… it just broke. That beast just bit through one of the toughest armors the IFPS could provide. Loxxar Kraes screamed in pain, but was soldier enough to take his gun and shoot the damn monster in the face. I nearly had forgotten my position, as I pulled my gun and screamed on top of my breathing diaphragms “Fire! Fire! With all you’ve got!” Beams of blazing hot plasma and bolts of concentrated electric energy whooshed through the air and hit the creature hard. It squeeked in such a high pitched tone and absurd enormous volume, that three of our team’s members - one security and both of the scientists - fainted immediately. But thank Xaleates the beast fled, leaving a scent behind that was even worse than the latrine soil we stood in.
“Status?” “He is alive” answered Dr. Proaxl, “at least for now. If we returned to our ship, we could stabilize and propably save him, unless…” “Unless?” I asked nervously. “Unless those spineless worms that prefer crouching through the mud rather than helping in medical care of a wounded comrade can’t pull themselfes up again!” she vituperated against the collapsed crew, especially her own squad members. The scolded ones flinched concerned, regardless the circumstance that Dr. Proaxl was the only one around who as a matter of fact had not a spine. “Ok everyone” I commanded, “return to the ship! Weapons at the ready and all organs of perception at work!”
We retreated as fast as Loxxar Kraes’ condition allowed. But as we reached the edge of the street, the next monster awaited us. Right on top of our ship sat - IT FRICKIN’ SAT! ON MY SHIP! - a monstrousity unheard of. Not even the scariest tales of my homeworld’s pitchblack mythology would have prepared me for this nightmare. A creature, covered in dozens of long spikes, each of them encircled with black filaments, like leafs of a tree. And its size. It was as tall as half of my crew stacked over each other. Its two limbs each branched into four roots, three in front and one in the back, wrapped around the ships hull and left screaching deep scratches, for the giant claw at the end of each root, that would have put the ceremonial weaponry of the IFPS’ guards of honour at blank shame. Its head alone was formed like an ancient weapon, a gigantic spear, meant to impale one’s body at whole. And its eye. It was gigantic, wide opened, deep as the wide darkness of space itself, but nothing compared to that earlier one’s eyes. This here seemed terrific intelligent. It fixated us with its cold, taxing glance. Suddenly, from one second to the other, the giant turned its head and showed us another eye, identic to the other one. It even bent its neck and stared down to us. It was horrific intimidating. Through the windows of the ship I could see the rest of my crew, shuddering of fear. Then the beast unbended two additional limbs one couldn’t have expected, it stretched those extremities as if it wanted to cover the sun and bring neverending darkness upon us. We could feel how the ground was shaking and from afar rumbling thunder approached to us. This was an incarnation of Xyrrhos himself and he was about to bring us doom. Then with a clash of its gigantic black limbs it jumped - No! It pressed the air beneth it! - it flew! It genuinly flew! Without any recognizable device, it flew! Away. “What at my progenitor’s lappets was that?!” whispered Xato Nexgrra. Then, the doom struck.
A mountain, taller than you could see, faster as you could think, with deafening uproar scorched through, black and silver linings hasted through my sights, a screaching noise of ripping metal echoed in my ears. Blazing storms dragged me along, hundreds of steps away from the point I stood before. When I could pull myself up again, the unimaginable had happened. My ship was gone. Obliterated. Pulverised. Half of my crew, shreds in the blasting winds. Exterminated by a might incomprehensable to my thoughts.
“This isn’t weeny wacky mudpot any longer. This is… Devil’s Playground.”
Levi’s Nightmare: Having a heart-to-heart with Pastor Nick.
“Are you worried about your wife?”
The question shocked him out of his musings.
Levi looked up, “My what?”
But the pastor was already speaking, “You’re obviously beside yourself with stress – and it’s understandable. Not knowing if your wife has survived-”
Levi cut him off, “Mywhat?”
The pastor hesitated, apparently realizing he’d made some mistake, but misunderstanding precisely what it was. “Your…wife? The woman we traveled with before? She’s ah – forceful. You two uh – have the same, er – strident personality. When we first met, she dangled me off the wall.”
Yeah, it’s basically that Dadsona is a werewolf and everyone is sorta chill with it and treats him like the neighborhood stray. Nothing kinky here… Yet. I might do a nsfw version if asked at one point idk.
“I mean, this was a kid from a professional family; his parents were both working professionals. Lived in a nice home, a nice town. He wasn’t living under a bridge somewhere. And he just should have been so normal, and yet he was incredibly, monstrously abnormal.”
–John Backderf (aka Derf Backderf), author of My Friend Dahmer
He was weak from imprisonment, and chained at the wrists. No knight in the Seven Kingdoms could have stood against him at his full strength, with no chains to hamper him. Jaime had done many wicked things, but the man could fight! His maiming had been monstrously cruel. It was one thing to slay a lion, another to hack his paw off and leave him broken and bewildered.
I don’t disagree that D&D‘s nine-point alignment system has issues, but I think it’s interesting to look at how those issues are a direct consequence of how the framework of alignment has developed over the course of the game’s history.
Folks tend to think of D&D as being based on epic, good-versus-evil fantasy in the mode of J R R Tolkien - which is totally understandable, given that many highly visible elements of the game, like having elves, dwarves and hobbits as playable races, are clearly lifted directly from Lord of the Rings. However, in terms of its actual storytelling conventions, the game owes a much larger debt to swords-and-sorcery fantasy and weird fiction - especially authors like Jack Vance, Robert Howard and Michael Moorcock.
One of the common features of these genres - and of Moorcock in particular - is the notion of an eternal battle between cosmic forces of Order and Chaos. These forces are characterised as vast, inhuman and largely alien to conventional morality. Early versions of D&D followed suit and included not the more familiar nine-point alignment system, but a three-point system: Lawful, Neutral and Chaotic. Though player characters weren’t necessarily expected to take an active role in this cosmic battle, it was assumed that most would be notionally aligned with one of these forces. (Indeed, this is why it’s called “alignment”!)
Trouble is, folks who weren’t familiar with the source material tended to assume that “Lawful” was a code-word for “good”, and “Chaotic” for “evil”. (Or possibly the other way ‘round, depending on their political bent.) Subsequent versions of the game attempted to clarify the matter by adding the Good/Evil axis to complement the Law/Chaos axis. The idea was to emphasise that the universe didn’t particularly care if you were a good or bad person, as long as you served the appropriate cause. As far as the monstrously inhuman gods were concerned, the most virtuous saint and the most brutal tyrant were morally equivalent, as they were equal in their commitment to cosmic Order. Likewise, a heroic freedom fighter and a cannibalistic serial killer were equally good exemplars of cosmic Chaos.
Of course, that was a really weird perspective, so a lot of players continued to ignore the whole “cosmic battle between Order and Chaos” thing and simply treated “Lawful Good” as “Extra Good”, and similarly, “Chaotic Evil” as “Extra Evil”. Compounding the issue, while later iterations of the game still included the notion of Law and Chaos as cosmic forces, they de-emphasised the battle between Law and Chaos in favour of foregrounding more accessible Good-versus-Evil conflicts, and discarded the notion that player characters would be actively aligned with those cosmic forces - yet they retained the nine-point alignment grid as a legacy feature.
With the nine-point grid still in place, but its original rationale now downplayed or absent, it was necessary to find alternative justifications for it. The Law/Chaos axis gradually shifted from being described in terms of cosmic principles to being described in terms of social conventions: a Lawful character was now merely one who believed in a well-ordered society and was inclined to respect and obey legal authority. This is where awkward questions like “how does a Lawful Good character react to unjust laws?” rear their ugly heads; note that this question wouldn’t even be on the radar in earlier versions of the alignment framework, since human laws don’t necessarily serve the cause of cosmic Order (and may well serve Chaos).
And that’s basically where we are now: the nine-point alignment grid is a semi-successful patch job on a feature designed to give rules-based weight to an aspect of the game’s default/assumed setting that no longer exists, subsequently kept around as a legacy feature. It’s not really surprising that its conceptual basis is full of glitches and weird edge cases - really, it’s kind of amazing that it works at all!
(A/N: It’s almost 3 AM so I have no idea about the story itself, but I am pretty sure this title is the magnum opus of my entire writing career. I might as well delete my blog now because there is no reason for me to make anything else anymore. Jk but I hope this doesn’t suck.)
Request: “REQUEST TO SAVE THE EDS Stan X Reader (in relationship) were during one of the loser’s team battles v.s Penny she gets isolated and targeted. Imagine the losers surprise to find her surrounded by them, taunting her, circling around her, he fear being her friends turning, HURTING, and hating her if they knew who she really was, her fear being revealed that she’s scared of those closest to her hating and turning on her? Except it causes the reader to pull away from the crew in fear post the battle”