blah the Prussian

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About blah the Prussian

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    Rationally Royalist
  • Birthday 03/29/2000

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  • Interests
    Video games, debating, dogs, eating, history, monarchism
  • Location
    Prague, rightful dominions of the most noble House of Hapsburg

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  • Favorite Fire Emblem Game
    Fates: Conquest

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  1. Xenoblade Chronicles 2

    One thing I noticed from the trailer is that the (presumed) Emperor of More Ardain is wearing a suit of armor, as opposed to Morag and Niall's more WWI era military uniforms. Could this mean that technology in general is scaled down from the base game?
  2. Fire Emblem Three Houses

    Can I just say how much I love the new battle backgrounds? It appears now that each unit is merely a squad leader; this is an excellent change and will go a long way to making the battles seem like actual battles and not skirmishes.
  3. Pokémon Let's Go Pikachu and Pokémon Let's Go

    The fact that Gen 8 is coming still makes me feel a lot better about these. They're more of a spinoff, and GF will be devoting enough energy to making Gen 8 great.
  4. I guess because I have an idea I spend a lot of time thinking about I want to share it with people. That's really why I wrote my Star Wars prequel rewrite.
  5. Was going to say Objectivism, but even that's not as bad as Anarcho-Primitivism, which basically states that we must abandon agriculture to save the environment, everyone who would die be damned. It's one of those ideologies where it's chief proponents would be the first to be tiger food if it were enacted.
  6. General "mass killings" thread

    FUCKING FINALLY someone brings this up here, I've wanted to talk about this for a while. The thing is, the American Revolution is one of a very few violent revolutions(which is what a revolution done by a militia would categorically be) that did not end in tyranny, and that's because in America the revolution was carried out with the direction of a specific group of people; it wasn't lead by normal people, it wasn't disorganized. Other revolutions have a decidedly less rosy track record. The Nazis are unique in that they're one of the only totalitarian regimes to come to power mostly non-violently. The Soviet Union, the Khmer Rouge, Maoist China- they came to power in violent rebellions by ordinary citizens, not a slow government consolidation of power. They came to power on the backs of the people you're saying would be in militias- people who start out as idealistic freedom fighters against a tyrannical government, but who conflict turns full of hate, because that's what violence does. So, accepting the premise that the government is slowly consolidating power, I'm taking my chances with them, because I'm fairly certain that whatever replaces it violently would be much worse.
  7. Which types of villains do you prefer?

    I feel like it was one of those cases where they really like the actor. They did that with Indira Varma and Lena Heady too. Shame, as Ramsay's pure evil in the books is an integral part of the thematic reversal taking place in Dance and Feast.
  8. Which types of villains do you prefer?

    *breathes in* Ramsay, to a greater extent in the books but still kind of in the show, is not one note. He's a man child abused by his father who takes that out on other people. The point of his character isn't to be interesting, it's to have someone Theon thinks is hot shit until Stannis shows him Ramsay isn't actually hot shit. It's a creative thing with viewpoints.
  9. I don't really get Areone

    FE4 is a good example of a good plot with terrible writing. In a better written game Areone would have been consumed by rage for those who killed his father.
  10. The Decline and Fall of the Galactic Republic: a Star Wars Prequels Rewrite

    Chapter 3: Plagueis the Wise The fleet had descended on Coruscant at noon; Anakin suspected the rationale was so that all of the Galaxy's Capitol could see the victory march of the Republic overshadowing all. He sat in the shuttle next to the campaign's "big names" as it exited the docking bay of the Pride of the Core. The view out the shuttle's window was... odd. After seeing so many planets whose surfaces had been scared by turbolasers, somehow the apparent normalcy of Coruscant surprised him more than anything else. Skyscrapers still towered into the sky; darkness still shrouded the planet's underworld; the Jedi Temple and Senate still stood proud. It was as if there was never a war. With a clunk the shuttle landed at the Grand Coruscant spaceport. The gaggle of officials that filed out was an odd marriage indeed: Jedi Knights mixed with military officers. His eyes scanned the crowd arrayed before them; smiles and eagerness filled the front row. But it was all a facade; their eyes told the real story. Worry and dread, as hundreds of thousands of parents scanned the rows of soldiers looking for their children. Tarkin said something Anakin wasn't paying attention to, about the glorious victory of the armies of the Republic at Geonosis. Then, they dispersed. Obi-wan moved up to Anakin. "I'm going to the council chamber," he said. "You know they won't like what you did. I'll do what I can." Anakin nodded appreciatively. "Thanks," he replied. "And- I'm sorry." Obi-wan cracked a smile. "I know." He hurried into a speeder, where two Jedi Temple guards stood at attention. He zoomed off into the metropolis. The speeder screeched to a halt outside of the Jedi Temple; Obi-wan strode out, greeted by salutes. He hid his grimace; the militarism of society, it seemed, had spread even to the Jedi Order. What a farce. He entered the temple, taking the familiar steps to the Council Chamber. Voices rang out from within. "It's obviously him! We don't have time for this blatant time wasting!" "And what if it isn't? What if we-" Shaak Ti and Plo Koon were cut off by Obi-wan's entrance; the chamber descended into silence. Once, Obi-wan would have shrunk back at the sight of eleven masters staring at him; those days were gone. He was one of them now. "Master Kenobi, something to report, you have?" Yoda asked. Obi-wan gave a slight nod of his head."Yes, Master. I am here to defend the conduct of my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, on Geonosis." Mace Windu, who had apparently arrived before Obi-wan, furrowed his brow. "With respect, Master Kenobi," he began, "it would be hard to defend the actions of Skywalker. He approved the mass slaughter of Geonosian civilians." Obi-wan opened his mouth, but was cut off by Shaak Ti. "That can't be the whole story," she declared, a note of accusation directed towards Mace. "No, it isn't," said Kenobi, fighting back his impatience. Then he began to speak. The speeder zoomed through Coruscant's boulevards, towards the Valorum family manor. The urban crowding of the outer city had fallen away; Skyscraper followed skyscraper, each trying to outdo the last in hiding what was below. But Anakin couldn't ignore the huddled figures, almost imperceptible on the platforms below. Bread lines. They hurtled past the Galactic Senate, it's shadow almost blotting out the sea of protestors underneath. A buzz rose from the crowd, sounding less like a chant and more like white noise. Anakin spoke for the first time in the speeder: "What are they saying?" "Aliens out," replied the driver matter-of-factly. "They're radical Empire Party supporters, mostly older folks who the Separatist corporations laid off when cloning was invented." He shrugged. "Seem to blame all aliens for what happened to them." He seemed to be bracing himself. "Are you Anakin Skywalker?" Anakin raised his eyebrows, taken aback. "Yeah. Why?" "Well..." The man's hands shook slightly on the steering wheel. "My sister's in the 501st. I know she survived the first attack; after that she went silent." He pulled to the side of the speeder lane, looking back at Anakin. "Did she survive?" Anakin remembered the Stormtrooper in the Gunship, and in the sickbay. "Yes," he said truthfully. "I can't speak for her mental state, but she's alive." Something made him continue on. "The Jedi in command wanted to send her back into the fire. I said no." He said it quickly, as if to keep from stopping. The man's eyes welled up. "Thank you" was all he managed, as tears streamed down his face. Anakin could have been annoyed by the delay; it didn't bother him. He fought to resist a grin from breaking out on his face; genuine euphoria flooded his body. It was the happiest he had been in a long time. "I maintain," Mace Windu declared, "that the case of Anakin Skywalker is straightforward. He clearly defied the Code. He is lucky he's not in front of a court martial; if it were up to me and not Palpatine he would be." "Made your opinions clear, you have, Master Windu," responded Yoda, apparently unable to hide his annoyance. "With respect, Masters," said Obi-wan, "none of you were there. I was. Some consideration of what my Padawan went through would be welcome." "I still maintain it was a mistake to send Padawans to the battlefield in the first place!" argued Shaak Ti. She met Obi-wan's eyes. "How old is yours, 20, 21? They're just kids! What did we expect when we threw them into this?" "Master Ti makes a valid point," agreed Ki Adi Mundi. "If fear leads to hate, what better cause of fear than war? War turned some of the best of our order to the Dark Side, just look at Revan." "This is all well and good," Mace interjected, "but we can't very well withdraw all our Padawans. Chancellor Valorum has been rather insistent that all our resources be turned to the war effort." Obi-wan shook his head. "I'm not asking for that; I know that's too much. I just ask that my Padawan be given leave from the field of battle. He needs it, not just because of the risk of turning to the Dark Side." "I don't know," worried Shaak, "Defense Minister Palpatine has declined requests like this before. If we don't have a reason-" Yoda's eyes twinkled. "Have a reason we do. Worried about this string of assassinations, Chancellor Valorum is." "He wants to send his daughter to some safe sanctuary," remembered Plo Koon, "and with a Jedi bodyguard." The speeder arrived at the Valorum Manor a little late; Anakin didn't mind. Handing the driver a wad of credits, he strode towards the gates. The structure was truly magnificent; spires reached up into the night sky, surrounding an opulent palace that wouldn't have looked out of place in an old city before humanity reached the stars. It almost made Anakin forget. A pair of Republican Guards snapped to attention on either side of the gates; he strode through, not waiting for them to fully lurch open. The Valorum family's great hall spread before him; the size of a small plaza, dominated by a hulking spiral staircase in the center, a balcony overlooking the Coruscant skyline off to the side, it was filled with Coruscant's elites. Army and Navy officers in smart-looking military uniforms plastered with the Republic Military's trademark cubic badges, businessmen and their wives, whose dresses probably cost as much as some planets. As his eyes scanned the hall, they found, on top of the central landing, what they were looking for. Her. Recognition flashed across Padme Valorum's face almost instantly. Her brown hair was done up in an elaborate bun, and every inch of her dress was covered with diamonds. For an excruciating moment, she stood still, staring at him. It passed in an instant. She descended the stairs, hurrying towards him, and then she was there in front of him. Anakin was at a loss for words. It showed. "Uh... hi," he blurted, cringing internally. "It's been a long time, huh?" Smooth, Anakin. I bet she's never heard that one before. Padme smiled by way of response; if it was forced, she was doing an excellent job of hiding it. "It's good to see you again, Anakin." She gestured to one of the great hall's many alcoves, which held an ornate, gilded sofa. As they sat down, she clasped his hand in hers. "So- how's the war?" "I really shouldn't-" A languid hand wave cut him off. "I'm the daughter of the Chancellor," she smirked. "I doubt I'm an intelligence risk." Briefly, Anakin considered repeating what the Holonet was saying: glorious victory, legions of Stormtroopers marching proudly to Mustafar. But he respected Padme too much to do that. "It's hell," he spat, his vehemence surprising him. "The Separatists make each planet a fortress. We send in waves of Stormtroopers until eventually we climb over the pile of bodies to victory. I'm leading men into battle with nothing; at least I have a lightsaber. Most commanders, especially the Jedi, don't care. Anyone that does is accused of turning to the dark side." His eyes scanned the room again, his rage showing him something else. "And here you are-" his eyes fell, his face suddenly growing hot. "Sorry." He looked up, to see Padme leaning in. "I feel like a monster," she whispered. "What?" "I hate this," she confessed. "I hate all of this. I can't not hate it. Not after seeing Tatooine." She let out a small, nervous giggle. "But here I am, bathed in luxury all the same. I'm a hypocritical coward." "Don't say that!" Anakin found his hand on her arm. "You're not a coward. I've seen you. You saved my life. Would a coward do that?" He remembered Maul's howl of pain, and Padme standing there, blaster shaking in her hands. She snorted. "But I was terrified that day. Didn't you see?" Elation rose more and more in his chest. "Being terrified doesn't make you a coward. If anything, it makes you braver. Courage isn't being fearless. It's standing your ground despite your fear." Part of him couldn't believe what he was saying, was screaming at him to stop. It's now or never. "You're as brave as anyone I've seen, Padme." "Hope I'm not interrupting." The singsong, aristocratic voice cut through his mood like a scythe. He looked up to see a man in his mid-20s, with jet black hair, olive skin, and an oversized mustache, looking down on him. His cape was adorned with medals and a pair of epaulets. "Bail," Padme breathed beside him. Anakin's heart sank. Oh. Right. The man extended his hand to Anakin. "Bail Organa, Crown Prince of Alderaan. And who might you be, my good man?" "Anakin Skywalker," Anakin managed. After a second, he hastily added: "Colonel, Grand Army of the Republic. And, uh, Jedi Padawan." "Ah!" Recognition dawned on Bail's face. "Frankly, I'm honored. There were some troops from Alderaan who fought on Geonosis. You had to make a terrible decision. I hope I'll be blessed with your courage when I'm King." The mocking note Anakin thought he heard was a slap in the face. "Anyway," the Prince continued, "I'm so sorry to do this to you, but I haven't danced with my fiancee yet." Anakin said nothing; he felt Padme slip her hand from his grasp. "You see," Bail continued, "I'm leaving for Alderaan tomorrow- looks to be old General Grievous's next target- and I'd like to spend time with her." Well, sorry we were striking a mortal blow against the CIS on Geonosis, asshole, Anakin thought. "That sounds wonderful, darling!" Padme offered; Anakin felt an almost imperceptible nudge. "Yeah, sure. Have fun," he said, absentmindedly taking a glass of champagne from a serving droid. As they walked away, he winced. The Gala suddenly felt very stuffy. He wandered out onto the balcony; the cold, night air whistled against the water welling in his eyes; he blinked them back. Booms sounded from the mansion behind, probably from the opera Battle of Malachor; they were fortuitous, drowning out his howl of frustration as he hurled his champagne out over the balcony. "Tired of the party?" A voice rang out right next to his ear. Anakin jumped, snapping into a salute. "Defense Minister Palpatine!" Palpatine's face was kindly, crisscrossed with subtle wrinkles, but these betrayed the steel that was his true nature. That face now bore a hint of a smile. "At ease, Colonel," he soothed. "This is not the battlefield. This is a celebration. Although I've never been one for this kind of thing. This is for them, not for us." "Yes, sir, I know what you mean," replied Anakin, his voice somewhat stiff. Palpatine leaned in closer. "I heard about what you did on Geonosis, my boy." Anakin opened his mouth; a hand from the Defense Minister cut him off. "Between you and me, you did the right thing." Anakin was surprised. "Sir?" Palpatine smiled, more widely this time. "Oh, don't be shocked," he chided. "After all, Tarkin is my protege, and he told me all about you." He turned away, hands folded behind his back; his posture was that of a man used to being listened to. Anakin was not going to disappoint him. "Was it hard?" "Yes," Anakin replied immediately, "but I have a duty to my men." Anakin could hear Palpatine's approving smile. "Good answer. We leaders have a responsibility; we don't have the luxury to do what's right. You know, when I was fighting on Dathomir, I made the same decision you did. It was worth it to see my men return home safely, even if some did cry foul." Anakin forgot all sense of decorum. "I know what you mean," he said. "It's easy for them to talk about morals. They don't have to solve problems. They can just sit in their Star Destroyers and-" his anger petered out, lost in the cool evening breeze. Palpatine stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Tell me, Anakin," he asked, "have you ever heard the story of King Plagueis the Wise?" Anakin said nothing; Palpatine smiled. "I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you." Anakin took the hint. "Who was he?" "King Plagueis," Palpatine responded, was a ruler of Muunilinst before the Republic had expanded beyond the Core Worlds; indeed, before the Jedi even existed. Plagueis ruled over a people who were backwards; they had yet to develop space travel. And yet, they were targeted by an early wave of Huttese expansion. The Hutts threatened to make Plagueis's people slaves. So Plagueis-" he paused for emphasis- "In order to save his people- drove for massive modernization. He was sensitive in the Force, and used this to crush the powerful forces that opposed him. Unfortunately, he had to kill many, many people." Anakin was enthralled despite himself. "What happened?" Palpatine shrugged. "He was able to repel the Hutts. The deaths of a few hundred thousand nobles saved billions from slavery." He sighed. "If PLagueis is remembered at all, it is as a tyrant. I disagree." He met Anakin's eyes. "Those with great power do not have the luxury to follow their consciences- they must use it to save those that cannot save themselves, maybe even from themselves." He put his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You are a hero. It's one thing to sacrifice your life for others- it takes a special kind of bravery to sacrifice your conscience. Most Jedi lack that courage." He smiled. "I am proud to have known you."
  11. Make your own Death Quote

    For fuck's sake, Winds of Winter hasn't even come out yet.
  12. Which types of villains do you prefer?

    Admittedly it's been a while since I played FE6; I'll take your word for it. The general point is lazily done tragic backstories, though, and I do think there's are a lot of villains like that.
  13. Which types of villains do you prefer?

    I will say that it's important for tragic villain backstories to be tragic in a way that makes sense. An example of a tragic backstory being handled poorly is in FE6; Zephiel's generic bad childhood gives him a hatred for humanity. The fuck did that come from? It's expected that, because he had a bad childhood, he turned out bad; no further explanation is required. A well done tragic backstory serves to explain the villains actions, and is linked to their worldview and choices. An example of this is Joffrey Baratheon; everything he does can ultimately be traced back to his toxic upbringing giving him a worldview that violence is the only solution.
  14. Which types of villains do you prefer?

    Well, in general I prefer sympathetic villains, but then again my favorite villain of all time, Euron Greyjoy in ASOIAF, is about as pure evil as it gets.
  15. The Black Knight Fight In Writing

    Yeah, actually, like maybe Greil had ostracized him when he found out he was Branded to advance in his own career, which proved to him that all humans were horrible, firmly driving him into the arms of Sephiran. As it stands, his motivation is "because you were nice to me" which is one of my least favorite villain motivations ever.