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So I've been reading some classical Greek tragedies and I've been thinking...the one blessing of tragedies is that tragic heroes generally don't survive their own tragedies. Othello dies and so does oedipus. Cyrano also dies. They all don't have to live past their tragedies.

But Andy does...all of them do to some extent but with thousands of years to live she has outlived so many tragic narratives.

In tragedies, those left behind after someone dies have to live for decades at most, but Andy lives that pain for centuries.

Quynh dies and a proper tragedy would have her spend the rest of her life searching for her and she can't do that.

Tragedy is in a way about Catharsis, but Catharsis only comes when there is a conclusion.

#andy #tog #the old guard #andromache the scythian #tog mine

“I lead a group of immortals. Solders. Fighters like you.”

Charlize Theron as Andromache the Scythian (The Old Guard)

#the old guard #theoldguardedit #filmedit #ctheronedit #charlize theron #andromache the scythian #tog mine #what a hot badass #did anyone else think of her in Hancock?#same vibes but def better here

The Old Guard favourite characters (1/6) ~ Sebastian Le Livre AKA Booker

You'll always and forever be the young woman right there. But everyone around you, everyone you love, is going to grow old, is going to suffer, is going to die. And if you try to touch their lives, well, they will get to learn your secret. They will beg you to share it with them, and you won't be able to.

#the old guard #sebastian le livre #matthias schoenaerts #booker #the old guard edit #the old guard 2020 #old guard #old guard booker #sebastian le livre edit #tog mine #tog characters #my shit

Andy and Quynh as Among us beans

#it didn't scan very well. im just figuring scaning out so bear with me #andy #andromache the scythian #quynh #the old guard #tog art #my art #tog #tog mine

Vaguely felt the sighing wind, warm as it brushed against her damp cheeks. And heard, so soft it was as if she dreamed it, a woman’s voice whispering, Why are you crying, Fireheart?

It had been ten years—ten long years since she had heard her mother’s voice. But she heard it then over the force of her weeping, as clear as if she knelt beside her. Fireheart—why do you cry?

“Because I am lost,” she whispered onto the earth. “And I do not know the way.”

It was what she had never been able to tell Nehemia—that for ten years, she had been unsure how to find the way home, because there was no home left.