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(I actually scribbled Isaac and Carver, what's up?)
Still on a bit of a Dead Space roll. Played the original three games this year for the first time (haven't played the remake yet, but I'm currently considering it). Dead Space 3 was pretty boring, but I still had some fun in co-op with my best pal and I enjoyed the bromance (duh). Imagining how much more that game could've been makes me mad, though (and sad)...
(just a random Jonathan scribble I did about a month ago... even if I'm generally not as dedicated to fandom(s) as I used to be, Vampyr will always stick with me, I'm sure)
Sound of Silence (Dead Space 3: Awakened, John/Isaac, Hurt/Comfort)
(also posted on AO3 and FF.net)
After finishing the co-op campaign of Dead Space 3 and the Awakened DLC a few weeks ago (both with my best pal) I just had the urge to put down my thoughts. So, enjoy(?) this completely self-indulgent piece of cr... fiction (it probably won't make much sense, I apologize).
It had gotten into his head. Again. He hadn’t even realized it at first. All the thoughts and emotions within him. He had treated them as his own. But that was far from the truth. When had he known? Maybe it had been the moment when he had killed Norton. Maybe when he had let Santos die. But he knew it when they were facing Danik at the end. He knew it then when he looked at Ellie. When he was ready to sacrifice her. By then his mind was his own again. Mostly. Deep within him he had accepted Ellie leaving him a long time ago. But somehow what was ingrained in his mind, screaming at him, spelled out something different. Fucked with him again. Tried to lure him, so that he did its bidding. For the umpteenth time. But he wouldn’t give in. Not again.
He hadn’t accounted for Carver. He should have. It had been clear from very early on that he was affected, too. Maybe even worse than Isaac himself. They hadn’t talked in detail about their respective hallucinations. About how messed up they both really were. But Isaac still should have learned by now. No one was safe from the Marker’s influence. He should have done something. Though, even when he thought about it now, he wasn’t sure he could have done anything. Not back then. Not in his own state of disarray. But he was still wondering: Why? He thought he knew the answer. But he couldn’t be sure. What if Carver truly believed in what he had said and done back then? Maybe he hadn’t accepted his wife’s and son’s death yet. Maybe he was the one trying to redeem himself. Maybe he just did it for himself, even. That last thought stirred something in Isaac. Something bitter. Something petty. He fought it down, after a minute. He couldn’t fault Carver for it, either way. Or could he?
Isaac let out an audible sigh. He definitely was spending too much time in his own head again. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Carver turning to look at him.
Right. Somehow, by yet another miracle, they had survived. Both of them. And they were free. For the moment, at least. Or so Isaac hoped. He had to convince himself. Had to actually force himself to not give in to the more terrifying possibility. That the Markers still had plans for them. No. Even if they had, he would defy them. Once more. And again. As long as he needed to. Moments of respite like these, right now, were few and far between. He wanted to take them. Had to. He was getting too old for this shit.
His tired eyes finally looked up at his sole companion (if one didn’t count the visions). Isaac tried to crack a smile.
“Just thinking.”
He wasn’t surprised when Carver raised an eyebrow at that. Thinking could be some dangerous territory, even if you were in your right mind. After defeating a living moon and crashing it into a planet, after walking through a world half real and half hallucination, thinking could mean being one step away from killing your partner. Or yourself.
"Wanna share?" Isaac seemed to sense genuine interest in Carver’s question. Maybe too much so. Maybe, if it would have been a simple courtesy, he wouldn’t have felt like he was treading on thin ice.
"Not really." Two word sentences. Was that what they had come to? Was that how they would end? How their world would finally fall apart even though it had cracked into a thousand pieces already? Cracked like Carver’s face when his question was dismissed like a mere nuisance.
"Suit yourself." The soldier was about to turn away from him. But Isaac didn’t want to look at his grim profile. Didn’t want to go back to sitting here in silence. There was too much going on in Isaac’s head. Too much blaring noise, too many screams of too many voices. It was still difficult to filter what was real and what was not. And it was almost impossible to see what was truly important.
"John, wait." Using the other man’s first name was new to him. And yet it rolled off his tongue easily. It felt right. "There is one thing." Four words. They were getting somewhere. Of where exactly, Isaac wasn't sure. Wasn't completely sure what had compelled him to utter these words in the first place.
Carver’s eyes found him again. Made him feel as if he existed, after all. Alive or dead. Didn’t matter which. But he was here. Both of them were. At least real to each other.
“Yeah? What is it?” There was a last chance to turn back. Back to the silence. A silence that was comforting. But also terrifying. Maybe even more so than what he needed to say.
What if he dismissed Carver once again? What if they simply continued to drift through the darkness, side by side, lost in their dreadful thoughts. What if Carver had other thoughts than him? What if they were better? What if they were worse?
What if...?
He didn't want to keep asking himself 'what if'. He needed the answer now. Later could become never. And what did he have to lose at this point?
“Why did you leave the Codex to Danik?” He hadn’t asked back then. With their imminent deaths it hadn’t seemed that important. But they were still here. And now it mattered to him more than anything.
There was a flicker of hesitation in Carver’s eyes. Guilt, too. But strangely enough Isaac didn’t care for that. What he was looking for was not an apology. At least not if what Carver had said back then had been a lie.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that. Among quite a few other things. I can’t give you an answer, Isaac. Because I don’t know. Not the answer to that question, anyway.” He was evading him. Isaac was sure of it. No, wanted to be sure of it. As sure as of his own answer as to why Carver’s reason would make all the difference in the world.
“You don’t know? Or you don’t want to tell me?” The inside of his head felt as if fingernails were scratching over irritated skin. A small relief, but not enough to suppress the itch, instead making it even worse. Isaac held Carver’s stare as the soldier glowered at him.
“Look, man. I just know that the Marker fucked with our minds. Back then, I thought it was still fucking with yours even more than it did with mine.”
“So, you didn’t trust me?” His stomach was twisting in ways that made it difficult to breath. Yet he swallowed the bile rising in his throat. It reminded him too much of what they had just left behind them. The doubts gnawing at their minds and hearts. Making them fight each other. If only in their heads. It was still too real.
“No, Isaac, dammit! I didn’t trust myself. And I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret. And now we both have to live with those regrets.”
So, it had been the truth, after all. Though not in the way Isaac had expected.
‘There’s more than one kind of right.’
He saw it now, too. Carver was still looking at him. And yet he didn’t see. How right he had been. And how wrong he was now.
“And that’s where you’re mistaken.” His voice rang hollow in his own ears. But even so, the frustration and pain in Carver’s face gave way to confusion. “I don’t regret it. Not like you think I do.”
Not like he had thought he would, just moments before they had reached the machine’s heart.
“I was ready to make that sacrifice. But I wasn’t ready how much your betrayal would hurt. I thought you didn’t believe me. Didn’t believe in me. It seems, in the end, we both fooled ourselves. And still, we fought. And we won.”
Carver’s lips drew up into a reserved smile.
“That we did.”
Isaac slowly shook his head, trying to sift through the depths of his mind. There were too many words. But none of them seemed right. There had to be more.
Think...
“You didn’t abandon me, even when I was blindsided by them again.”
T h i n k...
“We battled our demons. Together. And we made it out. Together.”
T H I N K . . .
“I don’t want to lose you, John.”
There was another shift in Carver’s face then. Not quite shock. But more than surprise.
Isaac had told Ellie the truth. But there had been more than one right then as well. He wasn’t afraid anymore. Not of defying the Markers. Not of self-sacrifice. Not of dying.
He was afraid of being alone.
This was his real second chance. The one before that had been a lie. Another one. He had seen through it. But he couldn’t admit the truth to anyone other than himself at the time. Was it the same lie Carver had told himself? The one he had admitted to Isaac just now? Or was he reading the wrong signs again? The uncertainty was weighing on him still, heavier than the silence from before. But in the search for clarity, his determination grew.
Nothing to lose, he reminded himself. It was no outside voice inside his head. No Marker deceiving him. Isaac knew he was simply lying to himself. But he also knew that they might soon fade into nothing, anyway. By then, it would be too late for any regrets. For either of them.
"Just tell me: Are you in or out? And then I'll stop bothering you."
And they would go back to the way they were before. Back to the silence.
He had thought about the reason why. Thought he had figured it out, crazy as it was. But then again, he might just be even more crazy. Because he had gone so far as to confess his own truth. And because the real answer, the one that mattered, still managed to stir him.
"Bother me, huh?“ John’s eyes spelled out something akin to disbelief and ridicule. But not towards the older man. “Hell yeah, you've been bothering me. Couldn't get you out of my damn head, no matter how hard I tried. And that sure wasn't because of some brainwashing alien artifact. Or I wouldn't still be thinking about you like this right now..."
The silence that followed felt almost deafening. It lingered as heavy as the thoughts that must have weighed on John’s mind. Thoughts that hadn’t been all that different from Isaac’s own. Not better. Not worse. But similar in nature. Easily mistaken for the lies they had told themselves before. But not a deception, for a change. Or maybe they were both crazy, after all. Did it really matter? They hadn’t lost themselves yet. Nor each other.
John and him met halfway, both getting up from their seats at the same time, both closing the space between them with a few quick steps, scrutinizing one another for a short moment, then leaning forward in unison, their mouths clashing almost painfully, their grip on each other almost bruising. But underneath it all was a quiet tenderness. Knowing they mustn't leave new scars where the old ones had not even begun to fade.
There were no more words then. Their language having evolved into touches and kisses, the silence filled by the sound of their breathing and the occasional faint sigh.
After what seemed like an endless nightmare they found some comfort in each other. And new meaning in all the withheld answers of the vast dead space.
You ever seen a crossover fanfic between two games you've never played, but you know enough about the source material(s) for the fic's premise to fascinate you?
I was browsing the Dead Space tag one day and stumbled across a fic that @constant-mason24 posted, where Connor from Detroit Become Human joins Isaac Clarke and the Kellion crew, for their repair mission aboard the USG Ishimura. It only has one chapter so far, but the brainworm infestation is strong.
What can I say? I like imagining Connor in a steampunk spacesuit. And him being newly deviated on the Ishimura, figuring out what it means to be alive as monsters try to tear him and his crewmates to shreds.
Also thank you to the lovely @prismatic-cannon for taking my commissions, and creating these pieces for me! I adored their DBH fanart back when I was lurking in that fandom, and I enjoyed working with them for this~
It just kills me when writers create franchises where like 95% of the speaking roles are male, then get morally offended that all of the popular ships are gay. It’s like, what did they expect?
#friendly reminder that I once put my statistics degree to good use and did some calculations about ship ratios#and yes considering the gender ratios of characters#the prevalence of gay ships is completely predictable (via sarahtonin42)
I feel this is something that does often get overlooked in slash shipping, especially in articles that try to ‘explain’ the phenomena. No matter the show, movie or book, people are going to ship. When everyone is a dude and the well written relationships are all dudes, of course we’re gonna go for romance among the dudes because we have no other options.
A lot of analyses propose that the overwhelming predominance of male/male ships over female/female and female/male ships in fandom reflects an unhealthy fetishisation of male homosexuality and a deep-seated self-hatred on the part of women in fandom. While it’s true that many fandoms certainly have issues gender-wise, that sort of analysis willfully overlooks a rather more obvious culprit.
Suppose, for the sake of argument, that we have a hypothetical media franchise with twelve recurring speaking roles, nine of which are male and three of which are female.
(Note that this is actually a bit better than average representaton-wise - female representation in popular media franchises is typicaly well below the 25% contemplated here.)
Assuming that any character can be shipped with any other without regard for age, gender, social position or prior relationship - and for simplicity excluding cloning, time travel and other “selfcest”-enabling scenarios - this yields the following (non-polyamorous) possibilities:
Possible F/F ships: 3
Possible F/M ships: 27
Possible M/M ships: 36
TOTAL POSSIBLE SHIPS: 66
Thus, assuming - again, for the sake of simplicity - that every possible ship is about equally likely to appeal to any given fan, we’d reasonably expect about (36/66) = 55% of all shipping-related media to feature M/M pairings. No particular prejudice in favour of male characters and/or against female characters is necessary for us to get there.
The point is this: before we can conclude that representation in shipping is being skewed by fan prejudice, we have to ask how skewed it would be even in the absence of any particular prejudice on the part of the fans. Or, to put it another way, we have to ask ourselves: are we criticising women in fandom - and let’s be honest here, this type of criticism is almost exclusively directed at women - for creating a representation problem, or are we merely criticising them for failing to correct an existing one?
Also food for thought: the obvious correction to a lack of non-male representation in a story is to add more non-males. Female Original Characters are often decried as self-insertion or Mary Sues, particular if romance or sex is a primary focus.
This doesn’t even account for the disparity in the amount of screen time/dialogue male characters to get in comparison to female characters, and how much time other characters spend talking about male characters even when they aren’t onscreen. This all leads to male characters ending up more fully developed, and more nuanced than female characters. The more an audience feels like they know a character, the more likely an audience is to care about a character. More network television writers are men. Male writers tend to understand men better than women, statistically speaking. Female characters are more likely to be written by men who don’t understand women vary well.
But it’s easier to blame the collateral damage than solve the root problem.
This is certainly one large factor in the amount of M/M slash out there, and the first reason that occurred to me when I first got into fandom (I don’t think it’s the sole reason, but I think it’s a bigger one than some people in the Why So Much Slash debate give our credit for). And nice point about adding female OCs.
In some of my shipping-related stats, I found that shows with more major female characters lead to more femslash (also more het). (e.g. femslash in female-heavy media; femslash deep dive) I’ve never actually tried to do an analysis to pin down how much of fandom’s M/M preference is explained by the predominance of male characters in the source media, but I’m periodically tempted to try to do so.
All great points. Another thing I notice is that many shows are built around the idea that the team or the partner is the most important thing in the universe. Watch any buddy cop show, and half of the episodes have a character on a date that is inevitably interrupted because The Job comes first… except “The Job” actually means “My Partner”.
When it’s a male-female buddy show, all of the failed relationships are usually, canonically, because the leads belong together. (Look at early Bones: she dates that guy who is his old friend and clearly a stand-in for him. They break up because *coughcoughhandwave*. That stuff happens constantly.) Male-male buddy shows write the central relationship the exact same way except that they expect us to read it as platonic.
Long before it becomes canon, the potential ship of Mulder/Scully or Booth/Bones or whatever lead male/female couple consumes the fandom. It’s not about the genders involved. Rizzoli/Isles was like this too.
If canon tells us that no other relationship has ever measured up to this one, why should we keep them apart? Don’t like slash of your shows, prissy writers? Then stop writing all of your leads locked in epic One True Love romance novel relationships with their same-sex coworkers. Give them warm, funny, interesting love interests, not cardboard cutouts…
I’m going to bring up (invent?) the concept of subjectification.
As in, people gravitate to the characters given the most depth, complexity, and satisfying interactions for their shipping needs, because those characters are most human, and we want the realest characters to play with.
In a lot of media, the most depth gets handed to male characters.
And, oftentimes, even when the screentime and depth and interactions are granted equally well to female characters, there can be a level of, for lack of a better word, dis-authenticity to those female characters: they are pared down, washed out, or otherwise made slightly less themselves than they could be, in the interest of making them decorative, or likeable, or “good,” or keeping them from upstaging or emasculating their male companions, or just that the writer whose job it is to write them doesn’t know how to write women the way they write men.
And you get the characterization equivalent of that comparison chart where so many animated female characters have the same facial features because the animators and designers are so worried about not letting them be ugly.
When you have a group that’s allowed to be themselves, warts and all, and another group that has to be decorative at all costs, the impression given on some level is that the decorative quality is making up for a shortcoming. That they wouldn’t be enough in their own right.
And sometimes that cost is authenticity. The interesting, striking, awe-inspiring, bold and glorious unapologetic selfhood that draws the viewer most particularly to those characters who are unapologetic in their particular existence, standing clear of the generic and bland and unchallenging “safe” appearances.
It is authenticity, not beauty, which powers subjectification. The love for a character, not because they are perfect, but because they are them.
They can be pretty, sure. They can be sweet. But being pretty and sweet is not a replacement, and too many female characters have been written by writers who think it is, while the interest—in appearance, in personality, in interactions, in plot development—goes to the men.
And when that happens, well. Surprise, surprise, that’s where the shipping goes.
Yeah I don’t really ship but I do write a fair amount of fanfic, and in most franchises working with the female characters is a chore.
You have to do so much of the work yourself, because the canon left them unfinished, with huge gaps or unexplored contradictions that you have to somehow resolve. Every female character you decide to integrate into your fanwork in some major role constitutes an undertaking in her own right as you patch together an understanding of her sufficient to model a consistent set of reactions and priorities &c.
The dudes just get handed to you. Even the ones whose canon is a mess have properly developed character cores.
That you don’t have to unearth and piece together like some sort of volunteer archeologist coming up with theories way more complex than the available artifacts truly support.
To @whetstonefires’s point, military sci-fi is on the extreme end of that problem for the most part, with casts that skew extremely heavily toward male, with female characters usually being ancillary to the story, if they even exist.
And like, it’s not that it’s not worthwhile to do! It is; it’s meaningful and can be deeply rewarding. It’s valuable to draw attention to the disparities and encourage people to self-reflect a little.
But refusing to acknowledge that a lot of external norms are conspiring to make Engaging With Female Characters more work, in service of an insistence that any struggle people face with this is always out of a lack of moral purity or other personal flaw, is deeply counterproductive.
Increasing the amount of guilt and shame people experience when they try to center female cast is not gonna increase the rate at which these works are produced! Let alone how genuine and nuanced and interesting they are.
Acknowledge that it’s a thing done uphill a lot of the time, and let people who do it anyway take pride in that. I think over the long haul that does a lot more good.