i think they would go to the mall together. [RBS APPRECIATED]
Out of Touch
the concept and idea of “you can always start trying to be a better person” is extremely important to me both in media and irl and i continue to be deeply deeply disturbed by the trend on this site pushing that these ideas in media are bad writing or even morally reprehensible
because theyd rather someone stay terrible or just straight up die than become a better person
from a compassionate point of view it’s deeply distressing and from a pragmatic point of view it’s outright frustrating
it’s fucked up.
I think one of my favourite character journeys in BSD has to be Kunikida learning to be better with kids because you'd expect it to be a fun wholesome character arc. Only, it ends up being heart breaking as it's immediately turned against Kunikida.
Despite the 'Dad status' that the fandom has given Kunikida, he was actually terrible with kids towards the start of the manga.
Take how he treated Atsushi in the first chapter. (Yes, Atsushi is not a little kid, but he was a starving and vulnerable orphan when they met.) When Kunikida and Dazai mention the 'man-eating tiger' Atsushi immediately freaks out and tries to run away.
What does Kunikida do? He grabs Atsushi, slams him to the floor and then threatens to break his arm for information.
It's Dazai of all people who has to reign Kunikida in reminding him "The boss himself warned you that the gathering of intelligence needn't be an interrogation". Dazai was the sweet talker and Kunikida was threat, even to a terrified, starving orphan.
Later with Kyouka, he's not much better. He attempts to intimidate her into giving the agency information. Whilst Atsushi now fulfils the role of the gentle approach. She's a mafia assassin after all, even if he knows she had no choice in it, Kunikida treats her as a threat before he treats her as a child.
Even with Aya, the interaction that gave Kunikida his 'dad status', he started off badly. But, it is here we start to see Kunikida trying to be better, trying to take a softer approach, even if he's clumsy with it.
When he realizes Aya was just handed a bomb, he snatches it from her and gets rid of it. That can't be helped it was a literal ticking time bomb, he then phones the authorities to deal with it. He was planning to leave, it's only because he caught sight of Aya sitting alone did he approach her. It wasn't his first instinct.
If he hadn't seen her in that moment, he might not have gone looking for her at all.
He asks her if she's alright and then she shocks him by wanting to hunt down the culprit. He rightfully tries to dissuade her, but again, he's not good with kids, he's blunt and argumentative with her.
Obviously, that's not going to convince a kid with a hero complex to not chase the bad guy.
However, his turning point, in my opinion, is when he realizes he has to choose between Aya and the people on the train. Now, he had already set off the stun grenade and is putting all his faith in Yosano finding them. He trusts her so he knows they are most likely going to be okay.
But Aya doesn't know that and he can't explain it all in the time they have. He sees a child who thinks she's about to die and is trying to be brave about it. And Kunikida comforts her. He needs her to know that she's not alone, that she's not going to suffer, that he is with her and he hugs her.
There was no need for him to step into that explosion with Aya except to comfort her. He chose to do that. Above his own life, he chose her needs.
And that's where this journey starts to get heartbreaking, because Kunikida hadn't always been like this. He was obviously always going to try and protect children, his ideals state as much, but he also didn't believe himself to be a hero. He doesn't see himself as someone capable or even worthy of that role.
So he built up a barrier around himself that made him harsher and more callous. He called it a professional detachment. He had to, it was to protect himself, to keep his sanity in those moment when they couldn't save everyone. Now it's breaking down and he's showing more and more how much he cares.
And it's immediately used against him.
The very scenario that got him to open up is placed in front of him again. A child with a bomb around their throat. Only this time Yosano isn't there, and this time Fyodor is orchestrating it.
And Kunikida does everything right. He tells Atsushi to leave and carry on the mission so he can stay and help the child. He gets on the child's level, makes himself small and none threatening. He reassures the child in gentle voice that everything will be okay.
And then, it's the line "How about a magic trick?" that really gets me, because he's trying so hard to present himself as someone trustworthy. And a magic trick is exactly what he pulled off with Aya, but it's what goes wrong here.
Because Fyodor planned it this time. He didn't just target children to get at Kunikida, he made a twisted mockery of what happened to Aya. Except she doesn't live this time and Kunikida can't bring this child any comfort or safety because Kunikida is the threat. This child dies alone and afraid because Kunikida was there, just like Fyodor planned.
Fyodor saw Kunikida bare his heart once and immediately reached in his chest and crushed it.
So, having spent the last couple of months absorbed in the world of RE: Village, somehow what’s really got my inner-canon-sleuth going this time is the issue of timelines. Just how long was Miranda posing as Mia before she was found out? Just how old are each of the Four Lords of the village? The game’s not telling us, but can I puzzle it out…
There are probably no ‘canonical’ answers to questions like this, at least in the sense of ‘answers the writers have agreed on and written down.’ Even putting aside all the usual complications of writing for games, RE: Village is a horror title structured around a gothic fairy tale: genres built on dream-logic and atmosphere. You may as well ask the ‘canonical’ backstory of Cinderella’s evil stepmother, or Dracula’s three ‘brides’: there isn’t one, because that’s not the point.
And yet, RE: Village provides just enough tantalising hints that I can’t resist the challenge of hunting answers that are, if not definitive, at least consistent with all the (limited) information we get. Which is how I wound up writing up this whole spiel about the four lords and who joined the family when – only to realise that the section on Donna Beneviento alone was getting so long it really needed its own post – so here we are.
Here's what stands out about Donna: Miranda has (very canonically) been experimenting on her villagers for a full century. Her daughter’s death in the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1919 is as explicit as anything in this game gets. The four lords and their household crests are presented like an institution that’s been around for generations (Do Not Ask why a small Romanian village needs as many as four lords. It’s a fairy tale, and that’s the wrong question).
And yet, Donna herself logically can’t have joined Miranda’s family any more recently than 1996 – a mere 24 years ago.
We know this, because it’s the year of death on Claudia Beneviento’s grave (1987-1996) – and that grave already existed when she was adopted by Mother Miranda. What little we know about Donna’s past comes from her gardener’s diary, and he talks about both in entries only days apart. There’s no year provided, but the dates are November 10-29. It could have been 1997, it could have been 2019 – but it’s a year I’m old enough to remember either way.
So did it really take Miranda that long to ‘complete’ her little family collection? Or could there have been a previous cadou-empowered Lord or Lady Beneviento? And should I be reading so much into a date on a gravestone, which for all I know should have read 1896, and which made it into the game by accident? I have no idea, but we're going with it anyway.
But wait: we have more dates! We never meet the gardener himself, but he’s given the name Josef Simon in the note he left on the Iuthier house in the village. And if he left that note in person, he must have been still living in the village as recently as 2017, because (and this is where it all gets deep into nerd-analysis territory), there’s a child’s drawing on the wall of Iuthier’s house dated to that year.
Why does this matter? Well, his last diary entry ominously ends with him taking an invitation to visit Donna’s house to see his ‘departed wife’. And that’s all the more ominous, considering the Duke’s statement that ‘none of her playmates have ever returned’ – not to mention, well, everything that happens to Ethan down there. The looming implication is that the gardener died soon after writing that last entry – meaning those entries were written after he’d shut up the Iuthier house, meaning that Donna only became her mould-empowered self as recently as 2017 (or even more recently still).
(God, do you see why this shit had got me so hard? It’s like solving one of those grid-based logic puzzles where if Mary is wearing a red hat and Adam wasn’t in the house on Thursday, which of the household could’ve been present at the time of the murder? This isn’t even supposed to be a detective game, GDI!)
But before we get too far down this particular rabbit hole, it’s worth remembering we don’t know for sure that the gardener died within days of Donna joining Miranda’s family. Or, to take a slightly darker angle, we don’t know for sure that the gardener who kept that diary was the same gardener who shut up the Iuthier house after 2017. Maybe ‘Josef Simon’ is a completely new gardener, who kept that old diary around to remind himself why he should absolutely never breathe too deeply over Claudia’s grave, or accept any of Mistress Donna’s invitations to come inside for tea…
Claudia Beneviento herself is a figure so mysterious that I’m a little suspicious her grave (let alone those bizarre dates) only exists at all due to some miscommunication between the writers and the environment asset team, or as a relic of a couple of very different stories getting awkwardly redacted into one at the nth hour (notes that came with the artwork say that her house was originally conceived as belonging to a doctor, the doll-theme only added later, which isn’t surprising). Taken at face value, a woman in mourning dress with a creepy doll obsession and a 9-year-old’s grave in her garden screams that Claudia was Donna’s daughter, whose tragic death she never recovered from. It fits with the greater themes of the game too: Miranda and Eva, Ethan and Rose, Donna and Claudia?
Only problem being that the gardener’s diary suggests that Donna's personal tragedy was something else altogether.
If the gardener is to be believed, Donna’s story is that of someone who shunned others from childhood due to ‘the scar over her eye’ (a birth defect?) choosing instead to talk to people only through the ventriloquist’s doll made for her father – then cut off from the world even further by her parents’ tragic deaths. (Notes on the artwork go further, suggesting that her parents committed suicide at the waterfall, but this never made it into the game.) Where does a dead 9-year-old girl come into that? Is she Donna’s sister, her cousin or aunt? It’s damn hard to find space for a daughter in the gardener’s account, but the fresh bouquets on the grave suggest she was at least someone important. It all feels like a story that’s been hastily patched together at the last minute (and very likely, it was).
Donna’s powers present a similar dichotomy: hallucinogenic plants and autonomous living dolls? The only common theme there is ‘spooky shit’. (God, it’s like Heisenberg and the lycans all over again!) I don’t mean any of this as a serious critique of the game or story: Donna’s house stays with people for a reason – horror’s often more effective because it’s incomprehensible – but Donna-the-character is a cypher.
Speaking of Donna's medical report, that confusing line about how she "divided her Cadou among her dolls in order to control them from a distance" is (inasmuch as I am qualified to translate it) a little clearer in the Japanese version. A more literal translation might be more along the lines of "has shared her own cadou with her favourite doll to control it from a distance" ‒ which certainly adds context to why it's Angie's remains you bring back to the Duke. What's in all those other dolls is open to question: more experimental cadou, or is them moving just another illusion? We'll never know for sure.
That's about it for hard info. Still, for what it’s worth, have some rampant speculation!
Suppose Donna and Claudia were sisters, Claudia the treasured ‘normal’ sister, to Donna’s disfigured recluse. Suppose Claudia died, and their grief over the loss of their one 'proper' daughter led Donna’s parents to throw themselves over the waterfall, leaving her all the more alone. Yeah. Just let that settle in for a moment.
Alternatively, suppose both of Donna’s parents (and perhaps even her ‘normal’ sister) lost their lives to Miranda’s quest to integrate all four noble houses into her own twisted family. The success rate for cadou experiments was notoriously low. Suppose she resorted to Donna last because her deformity made her that much less desirable – only for Donna to survive, to be ‘adopted’ by the very woman who murdered her whole family.
Now imagine Donna living under the shadow of inevitably being supplanted (yet again) when her new ‘mother’ manages to revive the true daughter she really wanted all along…
Now there are some horror stories for you.
As a side note, I’ve seen some articles claim Donna had a female family member called Bernadette who died in Miranda’s experiments. This isn’t based on much: the only evidence is a 21-year-old “Bernadette B” mentioned in one of Miranda’s case notes, shortly before the success story of “Alcina D”. Notably, “Alcina D” is recorded as being ‘of noble birth’, while “Bernadette B” is simply noted as ‘no occupation’, which doesn’t really support the idea the B stands for another important family. Being nearly as old as ‘Alcina D’, Bernadette would have lived and died generations before Donna and Claudia. So even if B does stand for Beneviento (and it probably doesn’t), it doesn’t add much to Donna’s story.
And on a final note, did anyone else notice that of all the four lords, Donna is the only one who gets called by her first name? Like, Heisenberg is ‘Heisenberg’ even to his mother, brother and sister. I don’t think anyone but the Duke ever says Dimitrescu’s name aloud (let alone calls her ‘Alcina’). But Heisenberg mentions his other two siblings twice, and both times they’re Donna and Moreau. Not Beneviento and Moreau, or Donna and Salvatore: Donna and Moreau.
Now, maybe he’s just lazy (Beneviento is a bit of a mouthful), but while everyone else in the Duke’s spiel is called by their last name, Donna gets to be Donna Beneviento. Naturally, she’s ‘Mistress Donna’ to her gardener too. Possibly Angie is part of the reason ‒ logically, she's a Beneviento too, and we need some way to distinguish the two of them ‒ but it certainly speaks to how she's thought about, by family and by the writers.
No other first name is spoken aloud at all, AFAIK – you have to find Miranda’s experiment reports at the very end of the game to learn Moreau and Heisenberg’s first names (‘Alcina’ is at least written on her diary as well, much earlier on, as well as in Miranda’s separate case notes on experiment 181).
I doubt there’s much significance behind this detail, but it does kind of back up the idea that Donna may be the baby of the family – the youngest in years and the youngest when she was turned. And somehow still the most mysterious, for all that we arguably have more information about her past than any of the other three.
Please don’t take that as suggesting she’s just an innocent little baby, though. There’s a tendency in fandom to portray her as perfectly talkative and functional with the right audience (never mind that she speaks only a few words in the whole game, and canonically preferred to ‘talk’ through her Angie even to the gardener who’d known her since childhood, and who clearly cared for her deeply). Her backstory is tragic as fuck however you fill in the blanks, but all those fucked up murder dolls didn’t come from nowhere. Angie is functionally her own alter ego: very plausibly her way of acting out her own childhood trauma, from which she never recovered or matured. And trauma exorcised into a new vessel isn’t trauma that’s gone away.
Wow! Don’t I love not being obsessed with horror puppets! Couldn’t be me!!! :)
Made a new poster! :)
Get it while you can!!! You don’t wanna miss this!!!
Good
Yandere highschool art? In 2023????