So what’s your take on headcanon?
I know that there’s a certain level of futility to
it. After all, I gave Street Fighter V the headcanon treatment
before its story mode made the rounds.
There were enough clues to make guesses on where the upcoming A Shadow Falls would go narratively, and
so I made those guesses -- about Necalli, about the nature of the Dark Hadou,
and more. Then
the actual story came out, and…uh…I don’t want to talk about how wrong I
was.
Fans and fandoms are powerful, but they’re nothing
in the face of the actual content creators.
That’s probably a good thing in some cases, because A) you have to
respect the creative vision of the guys and ladies in charge, and B) giving
power to fans who don’t always know
better can lead to….well, let’s call it “misfortune” and
leave it at that. The reverse is true,
of course; fans can and do create stuff that makes the pros look like
amateurs. But as long as they’re on the
bottom rung, they’re doomed to have their best work and razor-sharp skills
languish in obscurity. Why bother with
it, then?
Easy.
Because it’s fun. It’s fun to
come up with different takes on a story, especially when it’s something you
really care about. So let’s get ready to
have a ball with an alternate, hypothetical take on RWBY and its 4th volume.
More specifically: let’s start with Yang and work backwards.
There’s been a lot of noise in-universe about how
much of a hothead Yang is, and how that rashness is going to keep landing her
in trouble. That’s been proven on
various occasions, though there is more that could be done (her whole “don’t
mess with her hair” berserk button is brought up so infrequently that I’d
forgive you for mistaking it as a dream).
Losing her arm to Adam Taurus is a good catalyst for character
progression, but I think that Volume 4 went too far in one direction. They utterly broke Yang instead of doing what
they should’ve done: deconstruct her.
Yes, there had to be a scene or two where she felt
down and/or broke down. What I would
like to see, however, is Yang trying to be Yang despite (or maybe because of)
her losses. Make her suddenly snap one
day and decide she’s done being sad and languishing at home. It wouldn’t be a genuine fix or progression
past her sorrow, of course -- but since all Yang knows is brute force, it’s
only natural to have her break through what ails her as best she can. It’s just that in this case, “as best she
can” is synonymous with “pretty damn terrible”.
With a slew of bad jokes and a cocky swagger, Yang
bikes her way across Remnant in search of information about the baddies’
plans. Since we’ve already seen her get
involved with shady individuals at the local watering hole, I’d imagine that
she goes even further -- because she’s Yang, and can’t help herself -- and gets
in deeper with the criminal underworld.
It’s not something she’s entirely opposed to, either. The myriad, potential vices combined with her
impulsive nature make her drift astray from the original mission and her duty
as a Huntress -- not completely, of course, but enough to make you think
“you’re on a slippery slope, girl.”
But Yang goes on regardless, and pretends like
there’s nothing wrong with her, what she’s doing, or even her situation. Inevitably, it leads to her getting into
several fights. At first, it’s against a
bunch of scumbags in a bar, which she ends up winning handily because she’s
still one hell of a fighter despite only having one arm. (It’d also be a good chance to have some
striking visuals and imaginative choreography, like having her go into a
drunken fist style if/when she gets hammered.)
Granted she doesn’t do as well as she could because of her handicap, but
she starts confusing her ability to fight with her overreliance on her
Semblance -- AKA something very similar to the
K-Groove, wherein tanking hits makes her progressively stronger.
Given that Yang said a couple of volumes ago that
she wasn’t really fighting for anything but fun (outside of finding her
mother), it’s not hard to imagine her outright dropping her mission as a
Huntress and a member of Team RWBY to delight in brawls with Remnant’s seedy
underbelly. It leads to a point where
she fights her way up the criminal ladder, and then has a chance to take on a
big boss…and even steal that position for herself, with all of the baggage that
implies. But Yang’s too punch-drunk to
think too hard about those implications; all she cares about is having her fun
and fighting her hardest to prove she’s A-OK.
Essentially, becoming a mafia boss is the greatest proof of her “I’m
fine-itude” she could ever ask for.
Naturally, she’s NOT A-OK. She’s not just masking the pain (which is
only getting worse because she’s in denial and refuses to address it). She’s in greater
pain because abusing her Semblance puts constant strain on her body, to say
nothing of the wounds she’s barely opting to treat. But this is where a holdover from the real Volume
4 would kick in: have Yang’s father show up and explain that her brashness is
self-destructive, and that it’s not the strength she’s desperate to prove she
has. Yang blows him off (because of
course she does), only to have the criminal underworld conspire to take her out
for real. And guess who they can target
now, if not the girl with the iron fist?
The plan backfires -- and thoroughly -- because
Yang redoubles her efforts in wrecking the underworld. And while dear old dad gets caught in the
crossfire (and takes some nasty hits), he manages to fight alongside his
daughter in a battle that brings them mere inches from the throne of the
underworld. It’s here that he gives her
an ultimatum, albeit one with no shortage of love and concern: if she really
does take the throne, there’ll be no turning back. She’ll have become the berserker and
psychopath that everyone expects her to be -- someone who relies on rage and
brute force instead of true strength (within and without). Even so, he’s quick to declare -- with a
smile, albeit a sorrowful one -- that he’ll love and accept her, no matter what
she chooses. And then he limps out of
the scene.
At long last, Yang takes a minute to reflect on
her actions and choices (something she should’ve done long before that point,
but whatever). Knowing what she’s done
-- that she’s done harm to the people around her, to her dad, and to herself --
she finally realizes that she’s not as okay as she’s pretended to be. It’s enough to nearly force her to tears,
though not quite enough to make her break down.
Instead, she heads further in to the criminal lair, to the place where
the metaphorical throne -- now vacated from the prior battle -- awaits.
What does she choose? The audience wouldn’t know; it’d just be Yang
standing in place, staring at the potential home she could claim as her
own. And we never get to see that
decision, because she’s interrupted by a new challenger: a Faunus by the name
of Blake Belladonna. Naturally, she
would drop down with sword drawn and aimed at Yang’s heart -- all to the sound
of the perfect theme.
It’s at this point where the story backs right the
hell up. This hypothetical Volume 4
starts with Yang (albeit with minor sense from other 2nd and 3rd
tier characters) interspersed, but the core four heroines are 100% absent until
it’s their time to shine. Why? Of those four, Yang fell the hardest; it’s
only natural for her arc to take priority, even if it’s at the expense of some
of the other stuff. Granted there could
still be world-building by having the scumbags of Remnant gab and strike out,
but yes. It starts with Yang, and then
it snaps over to the best girl Blake, flashing back to what she was up
to prior to her dynamic entry.
So the (theoretical) episode winds things back to
the epilogue of Volume 3, where Blake is still on the run. Where to?
Nowhere in particular. She just
knows that she doesn’t want to be near anyone, and she feels like she has to punish herself for her
failures. Frustrated over her complete
inability to stop Adam and crew from running wild -- and the grievous harm done
to Yang -- Blake goes into full-on hermit mode in some jungle depths, to the
point where she actively tries to scare people off when they approach. As a cat girl, one good hiss is all it takes.
For a while, Blake is content with being alone and
hidden away. She loses track of time,
though, among other things; imagine a downplayed version of the crazy cat lady
from The Simpsons, and you’re halfway
there (probably because Blake’s not going to throw around her
quasi-brethren). Despite her newfound
happiness, she can’t help but feel like something is missing -- like there’s an
emptiness inside her that can’t be hidden by a bunch of leaves and tree bark.
Part of that emptiness comes from an obvious
source. As a loner by nature, Blake was
forced to bond and mingle with Ruby, Weiss, and Yang. Though they had their differences at first
(Weiss and Blake, notably), they ended up becoming pals that would chat around
the campfire, play dumb card games, and pig out at on festival grounds. I would bet that that meant more to Blake
than to anyone else on the team, because she’s so used to being alone -- yet
also forced to work with people who provided insurmountable differences of
opinion. So on one hand, her forlorn
desire to see her friends figures into her problem. But there’s something much more important to
her than that.
Deep down, Blake doesn’t want to just chill out in
the jungle. She wants to fight for
justice.
Blake has always wanted to make the world a better
place. It’s why she sided with the White
Fang to begin with, and deserted when it became obvious that they didn’t have
the people’s best interests at heart.
It’s why she was utterly obsessed with finding clues about Torchwick and
his crew, even if it meant utter exhaustion.
It’s why she decided to be a Huntress in the first place, instead of
holing up in the family mansion and playing video games all day. Despite putting on airs of being the stoic,
cynical, badass loner you’d expect from any other anime, Blake cares more about
creating a virtuous life for everyone she can -- even if it’s to her detriment.
And sure enough, it’s to her detriment again. Despite being in hiding, Blake still has her
trusted Gambol Shroud by her side. Even
if it serves as a weapon she’s recently taken to use as self-defense -- or
scraping up wood and food -- she still can’t help but look at it on a near-daily
basis and lament what could have been.
Or what could be,
arguably. She hasn’t forgotten about the
good she did back in the first two volumes, which forces her to be of two
minds. Her brain tells her that she
won’t be able to fight it out unless she’s willing to screw up royally. Meanwhile, her heart tells her to take up her
sword and fight it out yet again. To
paraphrase a wise man, when she can do the things that she can, but she doesn’t,
and then the bad things happen, they happen because of her. Granted said “wise man” is world-famous for
his underoos, but that doesn’t devalue the words.
Having chosen to avoid everything and everyone,
Blake thinks that she’ll be able to fight without consequence -- that her
friends and family will be safe because she’s so far-removed from society. As fate would have it, her steps outside of
her hidden abode let her catch wind of the White Fang mobilizing. Because Blake is Blake, her sense of
responsibility and drive for justice lead her toward an investigation -- which,
naturally, turns into a full-on confrontation.
She manages to hold her own, but the fight turns nasty when more and
more White Fang agents get involved.
And, eventually, the fight reaches an apex once Adam shows up.
It doesn’t end well for Blake. Adam chides her throughout their duel, and
stops just short of calling her a scaredy-cat (which she kind of is,
thematically speaking). At one point he
wanted her back on the team, but knowing what he knows through their fight --
having seen her waffle and tremble so plainly -- he decides she’s not worth the
trouble. He opts to spare her life once
it’s blatantly obvious that she can’t win, since he believes that forcing her
to live with the same will do a lot more to hurt her than a taste of his
blade. But he does make a pretty marked
statement; not only does he severely injure Blake, but also decides to shatter
her pride into pieces. Literally. One cut is all he needs to break Gambol
Shroud, and leave Blake a huddled, bruised, teary-eyed mess on the ground --
one that instinctively tries to escape from this terrible situation.
Too bad she can’t run away from herself.
Thankfully, Blake ends up getting found by some
fellow Faunus (who assume that she just got nailed by a roving band of
racists). They nurse her back to normal,
but with a couple of caveats. For one
thing, Gambol Shroud is still broken.
For another: even if she did have it repaired -- which one would reason
she could, since it’s her weapon -- the problem goes beyond physical
injury. She’s mentally shaken; despite
being at full health, Blake’s so psychologically wrecked that she can’t even
grab the hilt, let alone swing it. She
can’t swing any weapon, because her
hands inexplicably make it shake right out of her grip.
She finds out that the Faunus who took her in are
actually part of an insurgent cell -- not too dissimilar from the White Fang
(shades of gray included), but still more altruistic overall. Blake still has her hang-ups, but as she
spends time with the cell she learns firsthand that the actions of the Fang and
others are destabilizing a world that’s already quaking -- and because of that
quaking, the Grimm are fanning out in record numbers. Before long, she realizes that she was an
idiot for staying hidden away, and opts to redeem herself the only she knows
how: by fighting the good fight.
Well, relatively speaking. But you don’t have to actually be a fighter to do that. Blake realizes that, and -- despite skewing
towards working alone -- she opts to take a different path. If only for a moment, she becomes someone not
unlike this guy:
Whether it’s to help her saviors or to fill in the
blanks left by her willing abdication of the world, Blake opts for stealth and
subterfuge instead of straight-up fighting.
With her speed and agility -- and her shadow clones -- she’s a
natural-born spy. And while she slips up
a bit at first, it’s not long before she’s able to slip in, harvest the
information/item she needs, and slip out before the baddies can wise up. Though it does force her to confront the
details of the White Fang’s schemes (and get dangerously close to another
confrontation), she manages to find solace in her new job…even if she risks a
panic attack at the sight of Adam yet again.
This sequence would serve multiple purposes. Obviously, it’s a way to keep the progression
of the story going, even if it’s focused decisively on Blake (for the
moment). On top of that, it’s a way to
develop the world of Remnant in a subtle yet perceptible way; just as Blake
learns about what’s going on, so too do we.
But the biggest and most obvious benefit is that it helps develop Blake
outside what we know of her as a member of Team RWBY and a Huntress-in-training
at Beacon. In a sense, she’s joined the
work force and has to get real mature real fast.
That feeds into the next point. Yes, Blake ends up doing a fine job as a spy,
even if she can’t take up arms herself.
But it’s hard to keep yourself clean when you’re regularly exposing
yourself to the greed, malice, and corruption that infect the world. Rather than be corrupted by it (like Yang),
Blake stays inherently pure and devoted to justice -- maybe a little too
much. The indignation inside her blooms
and grows, after each successful mission; it only spreads when she hears that
other members of the cell bit it while working out in the field. Bit by bit, the determination builds inside
of Blake; it’s kept behind a dam, but the cracks have long since started to
form. Inevitably, it reaches its
breaking point. Blake’s research and
investigations let her pick up on the rumblings of the criminal underworld --
where a certain blonde pugilist is making waves.
Blake’s slow slide into Knight Templar territory
resonates with Yang’s uprising in Remnant’s underbelly; the latter serves a
catalyst for her to conclusively get back into the action. Even though she recognizes her efforts as a
spy have an effect, she acknowledges that she won’t be satisfied until she personally fights for justice. She’s in no rush to admit whether or not she
intends to use lethal force (on Yang or anyone), but it’s enough to help her
try and get back in the groove. In
between her spy missions, she trains in private to reclaim Gambol Shroud, or at
least get ready to use it again. It
doesn’t work out at first, but the more she trains (and the more she sees the
evil in the world), the closer she gets to crushing her mental block.
Inevitably, she does manage to overcome it and
seizes the sword’s broken hilt. Despite
the physical exhaustion and mental weariness she’s had to endure (during her
“training” and beyond), she pushes further to rebuild and upgrade her trusted
weapon. When it’s done, she doesn’t even
bother with sleep. Nor does she bother
saying goodbye to her newfound comrades and home. She just rushes out to fight for justice,
slashing and smashing her way through the gates of the underworld to do what
she thinks is right. There’s no
introspection, and no foresight. She
just thinks that all she needs -- that all she needs to do -- is “beat the bad
guys”. Because of it, she drops right
into the fray…and into a duel with
her old teammate.
What happens next?
*shrug* I dunno.
Well, yeah, I do, actually. But this post is long enough as it is. That’s kind of what happens when I have fun
with stuff like this, irrespective of my curse that turns everything into an
encyclopedia. So I’ll cut off here and
come back later on -- because I still need to get to Weiss and Ruby.
Similarly, I need to finish this sequence off
first. It’ll have to have a happy
ending, because I’ll allow nothing less than a 100% canonization of the
Bumblebee ship. NOTHING. LESS.
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