following the end of the war between humanity and orcs, your father takes on an orc refugee who claims he was once a cook in the army, but is now a mere, simple gardener.
warnings; "you are not immune to propaganda", extreme classism, mentions of death, mentions of the king having concubines, probably some uncomfy details, the end of this is very much mc's privileged life showing through, mc also moves fast lmao
wc; 2,000
divider; @/strangergraphics
a/n: so, this has potential to be a part two because I'd like to write a smut part, but that's up to y'all let me know. also, I sort of imagine him as a "pretty" orc. cop out? maybe. but, oh well.
if you enjoyed it, please share + interact with this post!! i'd love to hear your thoughts!!
When King Zytmar rode into the Capital City with the head of orc warlord Varrok Dreadhammer mounted on a spear, the people knew that the war was finally over.
The celebrations lasted weeks into the harvest season, with good barley wine and trestle tables draped in purple and glistening golden thread, feeding all weary travelers and the city's downtrodden poor until the seams of their clothes strained around their bellies. It was all a fleeting fantasy, however, a delusional sense of oneness that would vanish once the king's sense of goodwill diminished and he hardened towards the pleas and bargaining of those lesser.
Perhaps it was through that eventual return to normalcy and social order that you were so surprised to see an orc on your doorstep, amidst a sweltering summer day. He did not wear heavy armor made of steel and fortified leather, nor did he carry an enormous mace or hammer or great-sword stained pale pink with blood, as all of the stories claimed you should expect if you were to ever see an orc in person. The clothing he wore was simple and threadbare, breathable in the heat, with a modest pack across his shoulder.
He swiped across his face with a damp rag and introduced himself as Orgrim Ironhorn. Once a modest cook for the orc armies during the war, he now stood before you and your father, a humble refugee who knew his way around different temperaments of soil and a garden rake.
This act of humility delighted your father, and he asked for no further evidence of the orc's skills before inviting him indoors, out of the midday heat. Your father was the sort who had no natural enemies and looked upon everyone with the same probing curiosity. All your life, you'd known ragtag misfits and rugged, handsome criminals who labored in the woods, black-lunged chimney boys with poor prognosis who skipped stones after watering the horses and hunting dogs, and the hunchbacked old women who enjoyed brushing your hair and telling you how fine you would be for a husband someday.
But this was different entirely; inviting an orc into your home. During the long years of the war, the king had ordered noble families to educate their children on the unsavory character of all orcs, to know them as brutish and cruel, and to steal women to spawn hideous, malformed half-breeds that they'd force into their ranks. That was the sort of content that pleased Mother to see you read as you aged, as her relationship with your father deteriorated, and her disdain towards the world beyond the opulent parties with shimmering silk gowns and lacquered furniture.
She wouldn't have been able to tolerate having an orc step into her house if she were still here to see it. You weren't committed to your feelings; neither hatred nor affinity came to you as you looked at him and he found your eyes for the first time. He had one good eye that was pale green, inquisitive, and tired, the other clenched shut in a perpetual wince with an old scar that started from his brow-bone and ended at his cheek.
"You're the next of kin?" asked Orgrim coarsely, causing the hairs on your neck to prickle and your mood to instantly sour from how unceremoniously he had addressed you. There was still some of your mother left in you, it seemed.
"Yes, I am." And, you offered your name to him, trying not to let your awe of his height and broad shoulders betray you by showing on your face. "If you're to be our gardener, I must ask: What could you possibly grow this time of year that could thrive in this heat? The ground is so dry that it's cracked, and the grass is scorched from the sun. Everything will die. Why choose to come here now? Why not during the rainier seasons?"
Your father scolded you, claiming you were wasting everyone's time with your interrogation, but you thought it was fair since he wouldn't do it himself.
Orgrim kept his good eye on you, unblinking, until he had the pack off his shoulder and began to rummage around inside. He was at it for a moment before pulling out a thick glass vial with five red seeds inside it. You startled when he thrust the vial at your stomach and held it there until you took it from him.
"Give these back to me on the hottest day of the year," said Orgrim. "Things can still grow in cracked, scorched earth if you know how to do it. I do. Find me when it's unbearable."
Orgrim gave no show of satisfaction as he left you there to roll the vial from the tips of your fingers to your palm again and again, speechless and alone in the front hall. Even as the days passed into weeks, which melted into months, you hung on his words, contemplating whether any particular day was truly terrible enough to approach him with the seeds.
The vial was the first item you placed on your body after waking from sleep and dressing. In case the day came, you cleverly tucked the glass tube down the front of your blouse to avoid being investigated by the hunchback women, and to always be prepared.
"It's rather hot today, wouldn't you say?" you asked Orgrim, at least once a day. "I think the ground is more cracked and scorched than usual."
Orgrim, as you had come to learn, did not possess any humor or sharp wit with which to challenge or entertain you, but he was always honest and replied to your quips with sincerity, as these dallying conversations mattered.
"It was hotter yesterday by two," he said, impaling his spade into the dry earth to break up the dirt. You stood behind him with a parasol, observing over his shoulder as he worked to crush chunks of dehydrated soil and roots into a fine grit before placing striped seeds into holes he poked. "Don't worry. There will be hotter days to come."
You made an agitated noise in your throat while spinning the rod of the parasol between your fingers. "I certainly hope not. For both our sakes."
That day came weeks later, carrying the breath of death to the Capital City and killing numerous: the prisoners sitting in windowless cells, the chimney boys with clogged lungs, the beggared men and women turned away from the shelter in the houses of their gods, and the old men who died sitting in the same worn spots that they did every day. The king knew of the tragedies befalling his city, yet chose to hide in the shade and bathing pools of his castle with his favorite concubines and nobility while life around him wilted and rotted in the streets.
"My, there's another!" called your father to the servants, gesturing for them to gather water from the well. "Quickly, douse him!" Now, he pointed at a man stumbling into the black gates outside of your family's estate. You watched the servants carry over a metal cup with lukewarm water and a damp cloth to wring upon the parched man's head.
"That makes twenty today," said Orgrim in his rigid way, leaning back into the shade your parasol provided, hands in the hot dirt even now. "You do not have enough water to last forever. Your father must know that when resources are scarce, they must be protected by any means necessary."
There were times when Orgrim spoke that you suspected his role during the war went far beyond that of a meager cook. He held his shoulders too far back, chin too straight, and he maintained eye contact as a way to gauge respect. You'd noticed it the first time your eyes met his, and he refused to look away until the conversation was over.
"My father will give and give until there's nothing left for himself or anyone else." You came around to Orgrim's side and sat on your knees on the desiccated earth. The feeling of being this low to the ground was uncomfortable, and you wanted to stand again, but you remembered the agreement. "Is today the hottest day of the year?"
"Aye," said Orgrim, peering at you through his long, black braids. "I would say so. Do you have the seeds?"
You let out an affirming hum and plucked the vial out from inside your blouse. The glass was slick and stuck against your skin, making it difficult to get a grip on it at first. When you realized that Orgrim had witnessed the struggle and the fact that you had pulled it out of your clothing in such an intimate place, you let out a chagrined laugh and wiped the container dry on your trousers.
"My apologies," you said, "that was unsightly of me. It was my way of always having the seeds with me for whenever the day finally came. I didn't want to lose sight of them."
Orgrim's pale eye lingered on you for too long. You were familiar with that look from men. It was when they tried to gain the vision to see through your clothes, imagining how you looked underneath. It reminded you of a fishmonger inspecting his product for parasites under the scales, or a hunter wondering whether he had killed something worthy of being stuffed and displayed next to the hearth.
Yet, when he finally looked away to uncap the vial, you didn't think that the feelings you had were related to disgust or discomfort, but rather disappointment. It was inadequacy that made you stare down at your own body and wonder, briefly, whether it was good enough for him; if he had actually looked at you like that at all.
"After I plant them, they'll grow fast," said Orgrim. He had already buried three of them in dirt he had crushed with his bare hands. "They're a rare flower from my homeland. They thrive in climates like these with little water. The flower blooms bright red and can be used for special dyes. During the war, we used them as paint. The stem can be a strong antiseptic if you slice it open and use the sap to fill the wound."
"What an incredible flower." You meant it, but you were distracted by the way his rough hands moved through the gritty soil. By how he let the granules slip between his fingers and cake dust under his nails as he covered two more seeds. With the final seed dropped into the hole, you reached out to stop him. "Wait. Can I do the last one? I want to feel like I'm a part of this as well."
You expected that he would have reeled from your touch, believing that he would find it repulsive that a human touched him, yet he did not move. He waited patiently for you to remove your hand first before uncovering the seed for you to bury and water thoroughly from a cup.
"It is done," said Orgrim, sounding the most accomplished you'd ever heard him. "Now, we wait four days for them to sprout. When that happens, we only need to water it once every five days. Will you be able to remember to help me?"
"I think so." Uncertainty danced in your voice as your lips tightened into a smile when he focused his eye down on you. You liked to think that he was trying to see you again, but perhaps he was just simply looking.
In your mind, you blamed the heat as you sat up a little higher on your knees and kissed him between his short tusks, your fingers leaving featherlight strokes along the sides of his face. If the suddenness of your affection had startled him, he made no show of it as his hand wove into your hair and he kissed you back with fervor.
reminder that it’s okay to lie about your attendance to an abusive school system
overslept and missed class? say you were sick.
couldn’t make it cuz you were feeling down? say you were sick.
kinda vent-ish under the cut
my mom got mad at us for oversleeping today, saying she got in trouble with the school because i have too many unexcused absences. i don’t get why she doesn’t just lie about it?? especially when she and my sister have the flu right now. sorry that the system punishes me for being human and disabled ig ?? ( i have severe insomnia and other mental illness , it’s not my fault if i sleep in )
note that my mom wasn’t mad mad at me, just frustrated. also with herself, since she also slept in. though i’m not mad at her for that since again she had the flu and deserves her rest. i just wish she wasn’t afraid to cheat the system, they don’t deserve my truth if they’re going to punish me for it.
Some obvious things are left out, like, of course Heli and Hellena are sisters and everyone here are friends. This is just a focus point on the weird stuff, thank you, like how this mob is a walking HR violation. Also this is to lay out interest from an anon ask because I genuinely do not know where Hattie would fit in this. I don't think he should go here. But like, what do I know.
The big black triangle is what I call the 'Codependency Bermuda', btw. Basically you take one of these people out of the equation and something is going to go wrong, but also, never put yourself in the middle, you will not get back out in one piece, okay? Okay.
Rest of explanations below, as follows, which, may kind of be rent-lowering gunshots but that's what we do here in Lowrentville.
(As always a cannibalism mentions and classism warning for Heli, and a light homophobia and religion warning for Homer Otto. Suggestive content as well, mentions of sex but nothing more explicit than saying 'a and b have sex'. )
Homer Otto :
- Asexual and sex-repulsed, but romantically inclined, often confuses sexual desires and romantic ones because he correlates romance and sexual desires as inherently interlinked. Very complicated about having feelings for people. Doesn't seek out romantic or sexual relationships.
- Kissed Jonathan ONCE during an argument and never again, it was weird and he is very upset that it wasn't like bad, like it felt kind of nice but it gives him nightmares to this day. Firstly, he is too old for that young man (his opinion, not mine) and he absolutely will never address the possibility (reality) that he is queer.
- Local deacon doesn't realize that chasing a self-destructive scoundrel—whom he has sworn to save from said self-destruction by matter of virtue and pride—who flirts with him sometimes, can lead to tension with consequences.
- Not contributing to the cup. Have you ever tried to get a deacon to swear a blood oath to a mob? At least not a self-respecting one, come on.
Johnny Fours :
- Give it up for the touch-starved guy with daddy AND mommy issues. Absolutely uses intimacy as a way to cope with and escape his self-loathing and feel desirable and avoid being infantalized, but like. Don't even worry about it. Does enjoy romance, does enjoy and seek out sex.
- Commited to Hellena. Largely enjoys deeper romance only with her due to vulnerability issues, but can be romantic to other people in some circumstances. Their relationship is open but he does want to marry her one day and would continue to be open. There are some unresolved resentment issues (not related to being open). Has tried to get better around kids for her sake, but still can't bring himself to like them due to his own childhood. Very passionate.
- Friends with benefits in regards to Malintilde. Enjoys a loose, uncommited structure and both are laid-back and close enough to fall into this dynamic. Mal may act romantically at times or push established boundaries due to her attachment issues and deep desire for a romance, but Jonathan only returns it in jest and both ultimately accept this.
- Of course he contributes to the cup. He also teases Heli about it.
- Nothing about him and Heli is normal. Uses her in some regard to cope with his inferiority complex towards his dead brother, who is also her dead fiancé, and to some degree his mommy issues. Never has sex, although he is open to it. They do makeout. There is no romance or sex involved. There has been some degree of one-sided, willing cannibalism, though. Take that as you will.
- Would kiss that old man again.
Hellena Misit :
- Doesn't click with a lot of people, but when she does, she starts to want to kiss them really bad, and she enjoys the gentle attentions of being courted and treated as desirable. She also is a huge pervert, like her husband, and if you act like that's a moral failing, I'm exploding you with my mind. Does seek out both sex and romance from other people, but leans towards romance. Can fall in love with more than one person at a time.
- Commited to Jonathan, wants to one day be married properly. Would like kids but knows he can't handle that and doesn't expect that to change. Still disappointed at times. There are some resentment issues, but both genuinely love and support each other as best they can. Very passionate together.
- Friends with occasional benefits towards Malintilde. With more time might be open to a romantic commitment, but Mal also has hangups about exclusivity. Originally gained interest through Jonathan's friendship with him, then flirting as a joke turned to flirting for real. Mostly and more open to romance, enjoying the toygetter's courtship style and use of grand gestures that do not involve big social scenes.
- Has no romantic or sexual interest towards Homer or Heli. Doesn't know about Jonathan kissing Homer but wouldn't make a deal about finding out. Does know Jonathan and Heli make out sometimes. Kinda rolls with it but not an active or purposeful witness. More passively aware. Malintilde does NOT know she knows and does freak out about it internally because of the proposed moral conundrum of not telling her. Doesn't know about the cannibalism involved, though, would probably take a problem with that.
- Contributes to the cup. Has seen what the cup is for, has asked for elaboration, has had elaboration. Still gives to the cup.
Malintilde :
- Getting removed from their only established and unstable support system at 16 because they aged out of a gang of orphans raising other orphans made them totally normal about abandonment and people. The other orphans their age going their own ways without her totally didn't make him really romance focused and romanticize the ideal of a marriage to an unhealthy degree at alllll.
Absolutely the kind of person to say they are okay with casual flings, then begin to pick out a venue for your honeymoon. Lies about being very desired and popular with other people but in truth gets turned down a lot for their speaking, mannerisms, and reputation, or duped by other thieves.
- Actively no interest in Homer at all. Nice to him, basically just a coworker, but wants very little to do platonically, romantically, or sexually to do with him.
- With Jonathan, they do enjoy the benefits of being friends with benefits and are doing their best to be chill and not ruin the friendship, but make very little mistake, he is daydreaming a maladaptive amount about a 'what if' Johnny fell deeply and truly in love with them and they just became a beautiful throuple.
- Hellena is the same thing, but I think it sucks extra worse because they both share in and witness the toll Jonathan's self-destructive tendencies cause, and Mal trying to butt in is often met with being reminded that they are 'outside' of the commitment. Still willingly sleeps between them in the bed.
- In regards to Heli : Girl, boy, buddy, stop. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200, what are you doing.
- Further about Heli : They start off really not liking each other for a multitude of reasons, but the chasm closes over time as they work together and slowly open up to each other. But also by virtue of pissing each other off and not being well-adjusted on either end.
Which I wish I could say is like. A good thing. But. Uh. Mx 'I desperately need a gesture of public validation such as marriage / grand gestures to feel claimed and safe in my romantic feelings' and Miss 'I could and will never voice being openly queer in any form because I do not want to attract discrimination nor will I reconcile my identity and attractions with myself' should NOT have fallen down the arument-to-suddently-making-out pipeline. Are they ever gonna like, meet in the middle? No.
Are they gonna fight and bicker and maybe even hold knives to each other's throats about playing up a one-sided rivalry that's actually just Mal being upset at not being treated as an equal because of Heli's classism when they don't even actually want to take over the group, and Heli seeing them as an expression of all the things she could never have and her jealousy issues are actual issues that interfere in their relationship and taking their takeover threats seriously so on top of it all there's purposeful mind games going on? Yeah.
- Is the knife in Heli's line to Mal indicative of a willing one-sided cannibalism thing going on? The willingly part is kinda vague. Mx 'Future Spouse of Poor Edward' is kinda weird about the expression of another person wanting a piece of her to themselves for all eternity. Are they going to discuss it? No. Is it gonna happen again? Kinda. Probably.
- STILL contributes to the cup, KNOWS WHAT IT'S FOR. What's wrong with you. (I literally made her this way.)
Helimeri Hannah :
- Absent but loving father figure and deeply emotionally and verbally abusive and neglectful mother combo, alongside expectations socially of the time, made a really interesting woman I tell you that. Does seek out romantic and sexual relationships with other people, but mostly those she is not actually attracted to. This is to avoid public discrimination. The semi-known cannibal of the group.
- Also has no interest in the old man but doesn't mind being friends with him because he is a good listener and helping him makes her look better to the church.
- Does use and view Jonathan as a means to relive a very idealized and warped remembrance of her dead fiancé, who is his brother and a complex about her sister in terms of wanting to be the person she cares about most + be more loved than Hellena. Not attracted to him or interested in dating, though. Has literally told Hellena to get better taste in men. Also thinks he's not good enough for Hellena. Still one of her closest friends. Does not spend time thinking of the contradictions of these things.
- Weird about her sister but solely in a platonic 'kiss her boyfriend' way.
- Struggles to connect to other people, platonically, sexually, and romantically due to a number of factors. Somehow still more popular than Mal.
- Speaking of Mal :
• Be Heli. You have but two people in your entire life who have ever loved and supported you in a way resembling unconditionally.
• You end up in the Neath after murdering your mother, who sucked. You have to live and sit on, for weeks, the reality that you just threw your whole life away and your sister is probably gone and dead and Alexander probably won't bother coming after you. You wallow for a bit. Then suddenly, there's Alex, except he's going by Jonathan now. Totally normal thing to do after losing his brother, you suppose. He breaks you out. You two fight because you see him as responsible for your sister going missing. He fucks off, you regret it. You become a writer to make ends meet, hoping he comes back. You build a decent, but unfulfilled life for yourself and deal with back and forths between you and Jonathan, sometimes seeking comfort, sometimes lashing out.
• Your sister appears, looking for you and Jonathan, having also got sent to jail on purpose after surviving a literal war at sea. You no longer fight with Jonathan because everything is okay. You still sort of blame him and wish Hellena had arrived sooner, but everything is now okay. You decide to stick ut out together, your new life, no matter what. But you internalize the period of life you spent without them by their own horrible choices. You get into crime, naturally, because this is the Neath and everyone is doing crime.
• Jonathan introduces you to Mal. Immediately get off on the wrong foot because you're classist and give you shit. Jonathan and Hellena like them, so you have to tolerate her. He one day decides, while you're feeling really insecure mind you, that they could run things better and be a better liked boss than you are and tell you so. This was in teasing jest. You don't take it that way at ALL.
• You both become stuck in a ridiculously long-going ploy to try and discreetly kill the other without alerting anyone else, while also not knowing how to permanently kill a person in the Neath.
• You help them bandage their wounds from other villains because that reflects poorly on you if the thief dies to some absolute nobody. Mal isn't really in the spirit of trying to kill you after a while. They're trying to de-escalate but you're still incredibly wary (understandable because you DON'T KNOW MOST DEATH ISN'T PERMANENT).
• To put an end to it like some duelists do, they decide to put you to one last fight to break up the tension once and for all, because now she kind of likes you and sure, she could spare a life to let bygones be bygones.
• You finally get to kill the asshole who has been trying to kill you. You monolog beforehand exactly what you're going to do to their remains (eat them). Your monolog might've included some admission about the way they make you feel and why you are going to eat them (they're special to you is unfortunately a way to interpret this). This will have consequences. You kill them and wait for the right opportunity to celebrate, but you did kind of help yourself to something in the meantime.
• Fucker comes back into work the next morning. Sits in chair. Doesn't try to kill you back.
this should be common knowledge but ppl should know that they’re being racist & classist for making fun of the Disventure Camp voices/mic quality
Someone from Mexico voicing a Brazilian character will not sound like Ryan Gosling.
Someone from Poland voicing a Polish character will not sound like Anna Kendrick.
And the mic qualities should not affect u that much. it is a microphone. These VAs r not getting paid, they r just doing this for fun. So no, most of them cannot afford the new Super Microphone 6000. They’re struggling actors. Not A list celebrities
This is potentially an unpopular opinion (?), but I will say there is a slight nuance to the class discussion in Our Flag Means Death specifically around Ed and Stede and where they meet in the middle as far as class and wealth. It is not rich vs. poor, or at least not just that. Rather, it's the trope of New Money vs. Old Money.
(I know Tumblr cuts these long posts automatically these days but this got rather too long for me to take the chance.)
(By the way, race is an element of this discussion too, absolutely, I just don't feel I'm the right person to talk about it and it deserves its own deep and nuanced discussion independent of this narrow one around class and wealth I want to ruminate on here.)
The fact is, Ed is rich when we meet him in the show and he behaves like someone who is "New Money" rich. As much as Ed had a poor upbringing, he doesn't currently, on-screen relate much to other poor or working-class characters of the Revenge. Ed's not stuck-up about it, to be sure, but neither is Stede (for the most part). But the people Ed relates to directly are not members of the crew. His familiarity is really limited to his First Mate Izzy (and I personally think even that is a stretch and that he treats Izzy as a trusted employee but not a friend) and Stede, as a fellow ship's captain. Ed's friendly and even familiar with other crew members, like Frenchie in the fancy party episode, but they never connect on a personal or intimate level beyond the level that Ed is friendly with everyone. The other person Ed relates to as an equal is Calico Jack, who also introduces himself as a ship's captain, if a temporarily embarrassed one having recently been mutinied upon.
Much of the narrative tension Ed feels around the upper class when it comes to wealth and prestige is based on the fact that he has, "more riches than you can shake a stick at," but he doesn't know how to use them. This is the classic New Money vs Old Money trope. Ed wants Stede to teach him to, "live the high life," because he doesn't know how, since Ed achieved his position through skill and necessity, which precluded the "elegance" of Old Money.
Ed is in awe of Stede packing the hold with marmalade for his personal comfort and how he privileges that over his own survival, not as a foolish act (though it is) but as a rather supremely elegant one, bordering on arrogance, where having the superlative marmalade for one's enjoyment at breakfast is deemed as more important than grubby concerns like having extra stores of gunpowder for a potential battle for one's own survival. Ed might know intellectually that for Stede it really is a foolish oversight, but he can't help but be impressed by how it plays to the brand of the "Gentleman Pirate" who is so far above such concerns that he can prefer the elegance of a gentleman's lifestyle over the necessities of pirate life. That's part of what makes Stede fascinating to Ed.
The New Money vs Old Money trope is a fairly well-trodden one, going back thousands of years (Marius vs Sulla of the Roman Republic are one of my personal historical favorites). The trope, for those unfamiliar, is that Old Money doesn't respect New Money, but while New Money has more power and vivaciousness at its disposal it feels keenly the gatekeeping of Old Money, even if that Old Money is tired and in some cases almost spent. New Money desperately seeks the respect of Old Money, who will never give it, while Old Money jealously desires the fresh wealth of New Money and needs its vivaciousness to survive. Old Money, therefore, uses the byzantine restrictions of its wealthy lifestyle to lock New Money out of its inner circle, isolating and mocking New Money for not understanding things like which silverware to use and other silly rules that take a lifetime to learn.
What makes Stede interesting in OFMD and prevents the tired cliche of this meeting of Old vs New from playing out the same way as it does everywhere else is that Stede is giving up his privileged Old Money position to meet Ed in the middle. More importantly, Stede lacks the class arrogance of Old Money and respects pirates like Ed far more than he cares about the refinement of other people's upbringing or lack thereof. As far as we can tell within the story, Stede is fairly class-blind and as noted, seems to see the refinements of a gentleman to be a lifestyle choice one can be worthy of simply by having a sincere wish to do so, rather than something that is based on birth. (This is a huge part of why Ed finds him so fascinating and attractive by the way, in my opinion.)
Now, Stede is privileged enough that his "abandoning" of his Old Money fortune still puts him ahead of the pack, he can "start" with a well-appointed ship (though only a single one and not one that's competitive against a British naval vessel) and pay his crew a salary. But what makes Stede in some ways redeemable is that he does not trade on the overwhelming wealth of his Old Money to give himself a fleet or frame himself as better than other pirate captains (beyond dressing better, which goes back to Stede seeing being a gentleman as a lifestyle choice open to anyone rather than a birth privilege). Rather, Stede's reducing his personal wealth down to "upper middle class" or perhaps "lower upper class" to be the pirate captain of a single vessel because it's what he passionately wants to do. He cares about being a pirate captain more than being extremely wealthy and comfortable.
(Interestingly, in S2, we're going to see Stede without any wealth or property, even the Revenge, truly forced to rely on his own wits to survive and that promises to be a very interesting story.)
To go back to Ed, while he is a man of many uncertainties with a great deal of self-consciousness around his upbringing that still plays directly into the New Money trope. Ed these days is not poor or of a lower wealth class. He's also not insecure about his ability to rebuild his wealth again should he lose it. These days, he has supreme confidence in his ability to succeed in any industry he sets his mind to.
Rather, Ed's bashing his head against the glass ceiling of the next level of success. He wants to be respected and comfortable by those who are also wealthy and he wants to be welcomed among them. He craved the acceptance of the fancy nobles at the party and didn't want to hear from Stede that they're awful and not worth his time. It was shattering for him to be so roundly rejected by the French aristocrats. The New vs Old Money trope becomes a romance rather than a competition based on the fact that both Ed and Stede are meeting in the middle and the lesson conveyed from that encounter isn't that Ed as New Money will never be accepted by the Old Money elite, but rather that he doesn't need to be because the best part of that group, Stede, wants to meet him in the middle and there they get to be themselves and create a world that makes them both happy, away from society at large with all its restrictions and prejudices.
I think the point I'm trying to get to is part of a larger one I've been ruminating on around Ed's well-earned pride, that so often goes unremarked upon or unacknowledged. Ed deserves to be proud. He clawed his way to the top of a difficult and brutal field to become the most famed and feared pirate on the sea. His meeting with Stede is a meeting of two people who have reached the top of what society says we should want: to have a successful career or to have a spouse and children, and both have reached that goal and found themselves to still be unhappy. They meet in the middle in forging a new path. But Ed still deserves, for better or worse depending on the views of the audience, to be acknowledged for what he is on the page in the story: a wealthy man, albeit one who came up through a criminal enterprise (not to say that Old Money didn't!) who sees in Stede the final step that has been denied him, the final privileges of the life he has earned: luxury and the respect of his financial peers.
Clearly part of what drew his fascination to the idea of Stede, the Gentleman Pirate, is that someone would be born into the life he wants and then choose the life he has. He was immediately fascinated, perhaps seeing Stede as a means to an end only, perhaps in love with him a little from the first time he heard of him (as I believe) but definitely one way or the other set on an idea that he couldn't explain to Izzy (who wouldn't understand): that Ed hoped by interacting with this Old Money Gentleman Pirate to achieve by education or by violence that final step of respect and luxury that is so often denied to New Money, according to the age-old trope that is also often the reality.
Yesterday at the store I was waiting in the check out line alone while my roommates were off grabbing something last minute and I overheard a conversation between two people that frustrated me. Nothing that I've never heard 100 times before, but you know just a little classism and ableism on top of an already tedious trip. I wasn't particularly paying attention, but I was just standing there alone waiting so I overheard a bit. One of them said something along the lines of you better grab that now because it's the first of the month and it'll be gone soon. In this context "the first of the month" is essentially used as a dog whistle to speak poorly of people on snap / food stamp. You know it's ironic I don't even get my snap until the 9th and us folks on snap don't get much, especially compared to the current cost of food. They started giving us 10 more dollars a month whoop-dee-doo that's a little over two extra dollars a week. Also recently they made it harder to get on snap and if you aren't working you have to prove that you're disabled. This is my third year on snap and my therapist had to fill out something for my reapplication. This wasn't very problematic for me, but they are making it harder and harder to get snap. What really pisses me off though is that in America we overproduce so much food that ends up going to waste and they have the nerve to act like us folks on snap are taking everything. Also I think it's really important to mention this issue intersects with racism and though as a white person I can't really speak on that "the first of the month" is often said with a racist connotation to it.
Anyway I know people say ignorant things in public all the time I just felt like talking about this. I've been really hyperfixated on the topic of overconsumption and all of the waste caused by overconsumption. Also I do want to acknowledge as someone who talks about enjoying collecting as a hobby I absolutely am working on challenging my own overconsumption. I should make a separate blog post about this at some point, like overconsumption as a collector and the conflict between being someone who enjoys collecting and being leftist + talking about how to engage in the hobby in a more sustainable way. If I'm being honest even though it feels horrible to admit I was kind of avoiding it for the longest time because collecting things is one of my special interests, but that's no excuse especially as an anti-capitalist I should know better and do better.
Valentino rose a brow at Vaggie, who he already didn't understand. She was carrying her own purchases, which was weird, and he didn't think that she liked anything he'd seen her buy. Who was all that shit for?
"I'm trying to decide what I'm getting me, and what I'm having Voxxy get me."
Taking a drag off of his cigarette holder, he glanced behind him at his overwhelmed limo driver staggering along behind them. Hmm... Maybe he should have brought two. At this rate, he'd have to excuse his driver to go take his bags, boxes, and zipper bags to the limo and return to him.
"Julio," Valentino began, "Get your ass to the limo, put my things away gently, and come back. We'll be at V&M. If you can't find me, text me." The driver was quick to turn around and try to make his way to the door of the mall, and Valentino made a face, taking another drag off his cigarette.
"I think V&M is gonna be a Voxxy's credit card store."
What do you think about Erik being queer-coded/interpreted as queer by fans?
For context, I am queer myself, and I grew up in an environment where it was... not really accepted, let's say, so I'm not going off of stereotypes here. It's true; he does live in a theatre, he's dramatic as all hell, and he can put an outfit together like nobody's business, but this goes a bit deeper for me.
Throughout his whole life, Erik was told that he was a monster because of the way he was born. This, combined with the abhorrent treatment he received because of his difference pushed him so far from humanity that he ceased to feel human at all. Although that 'difference' is his physical deformity and not sexuality, the parallels are there- he's been forbidden from loving because of that difference as well. I'm not saying that gay people are all completely alienated from society, but being treated as strange, dangerous or inhuman can have an effect on you.
When he sings about being "Hounded out by everyone, met with hatred everywhere," it strikes a chord with me. I've never been chased by an angry mob, but it's all too easy for me to imagine what he's been through because of my experiences. I wonder if there are other fans who feel the same way.
I'd think that many fans have actually felt the same way as the Phantom, again not to the extremes that of the Phantom's experiences, but the feeling of being outcast, shunned, different. It's part of why the Phantom's story has such universal appeal - probably everyone knows the feeling of not being accepted because of their gender, sexuality, race, culture, nationality, disability, and so on.
So no, I certainly don't have any problems with the Phantom being interpreted as queer or queer-coded, just like I've never had any problems with the Phantom being interpreted or coded as, say, neurodivergent, of being a person of color, of having a mental illness (on top of a physical disability), and so on. You can certainly argue too that many people who fall into those categories have been forbidden or at least found it difficult to have romantic relationships, as you consider, say, how people who are neurodivergent have difficulties socializing in ways considered acceptable by people who are neurotypical, how they and people who have physical disabilities, mental disabilities, etc. are often infantilized and seen as inherently non-sexual or asexual, the fact that miscegenation laws existed in the US up until the 1960s, and in the most extreme cases, the eugenics program and sterilization programs that specifically targeted those who were poor, disabled, or people of color.
Which is not to say that people who are LGBT+ have had it easier or something, simply that they are one of many groups who have found something relatable in the Phantom's story, and that interpreting the Phantom as such is just one of many ways of doing so, one of many ways of fandom interacting with a story in a way that includes their own personal experiences. I cannot tell you how many times I've seen people writing posts about how they personally see the Phantom as autistic, as having PTSD, about how the casting of actors of color in the role adds more to the Phantom's story, and so on, and I don't see why interpreting him as LGBT+ and/or queer is any different.
Potentially my only caveat about it is not assuming that this is intentional on the part of Leroux, ALW (ha), or any other creators - meaning that I doubt that they intended for the Phantom to be canonically a person or color, or to be neurodivergent, or LGBT+, and so on. This is mainly because I've seen people who have assumed so, and therefore attributed more, er, "wokeness" to creators than they may actually have had, and also because sometimes people will assume that their interpretations are now canon and will go after others who disagree. At the end of the day, these are interpretations, headcanons if you will, not canon - but that should not make them any less valid for you.
