Monad Application
Nov. 10th, 2014 02:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
OOC Information
IC Information
IC Information
Name: The Neophyte Redglare
Canon: Homestuck
Gender: Female
Age: Low-10s in sweeps, so early 20s in human years at her time of death, remarkably young for a troll of her high bloodcaste and long lifespan.
History: Canon information here for Redglare
Canon information here for Latula Pyrope, her alternate universe self
Headcanon Information follows:
Redglare was hatched in a much different Alternia than most before or since, being in a turbulent age that served as the hotbed of a revolution which would change not only the fate of Alternia, but of surrounding planets themselves. Like most trolls who survived the trials of her planet, Redglare lived most of her earliest sweeps in caverns under constant fear of natural selection only fueled further by numerous life-threatening trials which await all trolls hoping to reach adolescence.
Upon completing these dangerous tests, Redglare, then an unnamed troll, gained a distinct honor which would not see repetition until long after her death. The tealblooded grub, only a mediocre shade on the Alternian hierarchy, was selected by a newly hatched dragon by the name of Pyralspite, who would serve as her lusus (a guardian of sorts for young trolls) and later companion. Unlike her descendent, Redglare had the distinct honor of living under the care and guidance of a hatched dragon, one that allowed her to survive fairly peacefully upon the solitary edges of a colorful forest covered in trees with bright pink blossoms. In these trees, Redglare and Pyralspite constructed a hive, or home, in which the young troll would stay fairly secluded during her childhood years.
Without worries of being killed by other aggressive members of her species, thanks to both her secluded home and moderately high blood caste, Redglare was able to focus her time studying dense legal texts and the basics of Alternian history, society, and laws. Her lusus, being blind until maturity, was often hidden away deeper in the forest, where she could be consulted by Redglare only when the troll needed it; otherwise, she was kept away in order to reach her full frightening size and gain her senses to overcome a surprisingly weak young state. Due to the youth of her lusus and its inability to communicate, Redglare was given no name by her lusus (unless she wished for a name that sounded like a baby dragon’s crying roars) as many other trolls had, and she instead opted to adopt a name based on the blind dragon’s piercing red eyes. Thus came the name Redglare, a name which is unique in its broken customs thanks to the girl having named herself once reaching the proper age to do so.
It was in this age of adolescence and early teenage years that Redglare was introduced to a force which would motivate her actions for the remainder of her short life. The Signless was killed by the very legal system she adored, and upon studying the case after the fact, the young girl became increasingly disillusioned with the Alternian legal system. The Signless’ death, she felt, was a permanent stain upon the entirety of the Empire, a blight which could not be removed without severe reorganization and rethinking. As she studied more into who the Signless, or later Sufferer, was, Redglare found herself enchanted by his messages. The tomes of his loyal Disciple captivated her, and she felt the messages resonate with her very beliefs and very self. Many nights she would sit in the ever-sprawling forests around her hive and speak to her lusus of the Signless’ beliefs, regaling and debating with the dragon over the notion that the hemospectrum meant naught in the world.
To her, there was only one truth and one decider, and that was true justice.
Redglare scoffed at the excused cases of murder in Alternia written off by highblood ink, the use of words like ‘culling’ to hand wave the murders of the masses. The fact that a lowblood could kill a man and be put to death while a highblood with similar sin walked free made her wretch at the notion. From here, she determined that her life would be devoted to the reworking of this crooked system. All trolls were equal, she would proclaim, and the color of one’s blood will not spare them the righteous constriction of the noose of justice. With the Signless as her witness, Redglare swore to tear down the hierarchy from the inside out. She would bring swift indignation to highbloods, and she would mix shades of noble and peasant blood upon the same gallows, and if her fate so led her to it, she would raise the Grand Highblood’s head itself as a trophy of her victory.
In this age of somewhat radical belief and rash thought, Redglare journeyed outward to find the last reachable member of the revolution itself, His Loving Disciple. Her hidden exile was nothing but a riddle to be solved by Redglare’s sharp mind, and after nights of research and sleepless plotting, the tealblood found herself journeying deep into the mountainous jungles, unexplored by the majority of the planet. Within a cave of otherwise complete unimportance, Redglare would find the Disciple, and she spent many a night returning to speak with her, to express her sympathy and beliefs with the distraught and increasingly disillusioned woman. She gave her promises and speeches of her future, of how she would carry on the Signless’ message herself, and she comforted the woman over their similar losses. For the Disciple, a loss of a love and irreplaceable light; for Redglare, the loss of an idol and hope in the current systems. These meetings would continue almost regularly, and the tealblood treated the Disciple as one of her few friends in this world, one of the few who saw the rare glimpse past her cynical and business-like façade. She even wore the necklace given to her by the Disciple wherever she went, a gleaming silver symbol of the man they both so firmly believed in.
When Redglare reached an age of about 8 sweeps, she sought out her ambitions in full. Dragon lusii mature rapidly after numerous sweeps of vulnerable childhood, and thus at this point Pyralspite was growing daily, though her sight was still quite a ways off. Redglare, with her dragon lusus in tow, set out to make a name for herself at this surprisingly young and active age in a troll’s life, seeking out her dream to become a legislacerator, loyal and steadfast legal servants of the Empress herself.
The process of becoming a legislacerator was a long and arduous task, involving countless attempts of independent glorified bounty hunting work to prove their worth and be noticed by Imperial scouts and officials. As such, Redglare spent her later ‘teenage’ years, as humans would call them, hunting down those who evaded imperial law and any who wronged their fellow trolls. Here, the tealblood stood as a candidate with no equal. Her uncanny ability to read the motives and methods of criminals paired with the impossible speed and might of her ever-present companion ensured that criminals targeted by her would never be able to escape. Ruthless and seemingly always one step ahead, Redglare left dozens of wanted trolls hanging by bright red nooses for discovery by the empire, a feat that would not go unnoticed.
Within only two sweeps, Redglare was recognized for her abilities and offered the position of a true legislacerator. Upon her hiring, she was given the title of “Neophyte”, the ranking of a low-level and newbie legislacerator. Unfortunately, even with her talent and veritable brilliance, Redglare would not advance beyond this title. From here, her meetings with the Disciple trickled to a complete stop, now that her actions were so carefully monitored by the Empire and her every move so crucial. She made herself a terror of the courtroom, one who would twist the laws of Alternia to her whims and find every troll before her guilty, no matter what rank they held and no matter what their position in the Imperial hierarchy may have been.
Her trials were a revolutionary show, one that went unnoticed by the Empire for how well the tealblood’s silver tongue could persuade the court into making the decision she wished, even if it were so blatantly against their own devices. Such events gathered a large following of lowbloods, eager to watch the few trials in which they could witness a seemingly legendary figure covertly bring their dreams to a gruesome and draconian reality. As such, Redglare’s trials were the only ones in Alternian history to allow lowbloods to spectate, most other courts keeping to highbloods so as to ensure there would be no problem. Before long, Redglare’s trials became entirely attended by lowbloods, all watching eagerly for the next neck to be brought to the noose, no matter what shade their cheeks would turn in their dying moments of asphyxiation.
The ambitious legislacerator would settle for nothing but the highest of glories, which led her, much akin to Icarus, to reach for the very sun. Her terrifying gaze, hidden by signature shades, was pointed to the infamous pirate, the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, during her last sweep of life. For this sweep, Redglare became obsessed with the woman, following her every step and every lead she could take. The renowned elusiveness of Mindfang made her an impossible target for most legislacerators far higher up the ladder than Redglare, but the Neophyte refused to surrender. Only by losing countless hours of sleep every bright and irritating Alternian day, and by devoting the majority of her time between trials, could Redglare finally catch a lead on Mindfang. From then on, she waited, roosted over her and watching her every move for the perfect time to strike.
Such an opportunity came on a night like any other. Mindfang’s fleet of outlawed ships were gathered for a momentary meeting, one which would prove disastrous to all. The shimmering white wings of a nearly matured Pyralspite silhouetted in the moonlight was all that alerted many of the crew to their impending doom, one which came so swift that none could even arm a cannon to deter the oncoming beast. Pyralspite’s flames ignited ammunition barrels aboard the ships, blowing countless trolls into the water, where they attempted to cling to burning driftwood for their very lives. Priceless treasures melted in the roaring heat, and ships fell into the smoky waters, the surface colored by countless hues of pirate blood and illuminated by fantastic red flames. Only Mindfang, of her crew hundreds strong, was left alive, though maimed with one eye blinded by Pyralspite’s brilliant eyes and one armed lopped off by Redglare’s sword. Only Mindfang would be left to stand trial, held within Redglare’s clutches until the fateful day.
In this time, Redglare was able to speak to the woman who she had obsessed over. Conflicted feelings had led her to this moment in the first place. She could have killed Mindfang along with her crew and have been awarded countless honors, but her hand was stayed by an odd feeling of hatred… perhaps pity? Regardless, Redglare enjoyed her talks with Mindfang before the trial. The two were not so different at the core, both taking issue with the legal system of Alternia, and both harboring hidden sympathies for the plights of the lowbloods. The difference, however, stood out to Redglare clearly: Mindfang was guilty, and Redglare was the one to deliver her justice.
That thought, however, would never come true. Redglare would be killed on the day of Mindfang’s trial, as the lowbloods in the courtroom were manipulated against her and she was left hanging by her own noose.
Personality:
Redglare is often defined by her steadfast beliefs, which leads to an incredibly polarized view of the world around her. To her, most things are incredibly black and white, and she is quick to judge people based on any aspect of their personality that she sees as wong or in conflict with her beliefs. This is fortified by her draconian punishment of any that she decides the fate over. She has no trouble looking over a person’s past or other facets of their personality when it comes to a decision of guilty or innocent, often very quick to reach her conclusion. More often than not, of course, she finds people guilty due to her cynicism and disdain for those who use their status as any excuse to harm others, otherwise justified or not.
Her beliefs often form the backbone of her inner thoughts. She follows the Signless to a nearly religious extent, oftentimes even praying with the necklace of his symbol. This is mostly due to how the doctrines of the Signless are the closest thing she has to follow, after being so thoroughly disillusioned by the systems of justice and authority she had followed beforehand. As such, she is also quick to overlook any faults or criticism any may have of the Signless or his followers, believing wholeheartedly that the closest the world had ever gotten to a man of true innocence and justice was in the Signless himself. This also means she is quick to show disdain to any who distort the Signless’ message. Had she lived to witness the Summoner’s rebellion, she would have made herself sure to execute those involved for their blatant disregard of the Signless’ true beliefs.
Her fanaticism for her beliefs, however, are often controlled outside of the courtroom and her thoughts. Given that she needed to survive within the very organization which put the Signless to death, she became very effective at keeping her burning desire for rebellion within herself and suppressing her disdain for those in command of her. Her personality is mostly one of reserved stoicism, oftentimes keeping a straight face no matter what conversation she is involved in and normally following required orders to a T. However, many can note that Redglare maintains a very sarcastic and humorous personality through her perceived stoicism. Often she mixes deadpan backhanded remarks in with serious statements so she can inwardly smirk at the reaction, or lack of one, she gets.
Redglare Pyrope has a very potent sense of humor. This remark is a shock to almost anyone who has had to work beside the straight-faced law-woman, who seems to have a perpetually growing stick lodged snugly in her ass. The few people who are able to speak to her candidly will find that her deadpan remarks can often lead to snickering laughter once out of the public eye, and that her lips are usually curled upward into the slightest of grins during private conversation, which is usually gratuitously peppered with inside jokes and double-edged remarks. Much like her descendant, she often thinks she is one of the more funny people she knows, even if others would disagree.
On more personal matters, away from beliefs and humor, Redglare is often quick and efficient with everything she does. Small talk is essentially nonexistent to her, and unless someone is speaking to her of business, she will quickly bring an abrupt and punctual end to the conversation so she can get to more important matters. Her vocabulary, given her more reclusive and book-intensive childhood, is often refined to a pretentious degree, full of legal jargon and unnecessarily long words that border on pretentious. When it comes to decisions, she will almost always pick whatever choice stick closest to the law and efficiency, very rarely taking risks unless she truly believes in the cause behind it.
Beneath this professional look, however, is an incredibly curious side of the Neophyte. Like her pre-scratch self, Redglare has a guilty streak of uncharacteristic thrill-seeking and overt casualness repressed in her past that still occasionally shines through when she’s off the record and relaxed. Archaic and somewhat embarrassing lingo still slips into her vocabulary at times, forming an odd mix of formal business speak with occasional 90s surfer words. If someone is to catch her off-guard, she can sometimes make rash and bold decisions for the hell of it, though she will be extremely embarrassed of herself after the fact. Old habits die hard, after all, though that doesn’t make them any less painfully shameful. Even her name is a shining example, a single word which seemed, at the time, to have captured the radical feeling of a badass dragon, but now is just a groan-worthy combination of words to write on a legal sheet bound for the Empress.
Even further at the core of Redglare’s personality lies a more dark facet of her mind. Despite her numerous achievements and ambitious methods, the Neophyte was notably self-conscious and self-depreciating throughout her life. Every step she took was judged by herself to the point that she nearly hated everything she did, thinking herself a failure no matter what. This crippling self-doubt leads her to overthink almost any possibility and feel a horrific anxiety about any action she wishes to take. Only through the words of the Signless and putting up a distant personality as a shield can Redglare find solace from the constant criticism of her own mind, unable to let her true insecurity show for fear of making herself seem even more useless than she already feels.
In terms of relationships, Redglare holds few loyalties and connections. She believes herself closest to the believers of Signless, though she only ever met the Disciple in her lifetime. With the Disciple, she felt most comfortable and genuinely happy to be in contact with, opening up with her to an unusual degree and actually opening up to her unlike most which she stays closed and distant to. Her lusus, Pyralspite, is another close contact. Unlike many other trolls, Redglare respected and loved her lusus fully, the main reason for why they made such a cohesive and powerful team in the ranks of Imperial legislacerators. Her lusus was quite possibly the only creature she had ever spoken to about her crippling self-doubt issues which plagued her for the entirety of her life.
Her other contacts range generally from ‘acquaintance’ level to ‘disgusting person’. On the latter half of the scale is the Grand Highblood, a man the Neophyte felt nothing but the most platonic of hatred for. Seeing him as the epitome and figurehead of the forces that killed the Signless, Redglare wished nothing more than to be the one to bring his overly sized neck into a noose and end the system of ‘justified’ culling he represented. Most if not all of their personal interactions are completely looked over by Redglare, who sees him essentially as the very essence of the devil himself, if the Signless were to be her prophet. Ironically, however, she holds no such ill will towards the Condesce. An inlaid sense of loyalty for the laws and semblance of order the Empress brings with her words makes Redglare eerily accepting if not loyal to the Empress.
The most complicated of her lifelong contacts is Mindfang herself. Perhaps in part due to her polarizing judgment of people paired with the beliefs they seemingly shared, Redglare found that the only person she could not fling an immediate label upon was Mindfang. This conflicted feeling was not helped in the least by how closely Redglare followed Mindfang’s life, to the point of putting herself in the pirate’s shoes and trying to think like her to an obsessive extent. This strange obsession led to her actually admiring the pirate’s work, even feeling the slightest hint of red feeling for how quickly the ceruleanblood thought and how worthy of a challenge she proved. When the time came for Redglare to kill Mindfang or allow her trial, Redglare went against all precedents of merciless justice and allowed the woman to live, if for nothing else than to speak to her. The mixing of red and black feelings would persist throughout the last sweep of Redglare’s life, even to the point where she was hanged.
Other than Mindfang, Redglare kept incredibly exclusive to herself. Thanks to her solitary childhood, the Neophyte was an incredibly independent troll, even among a race so notorious for independence and personal separation from the whole. She kept few friends, and even fewer were considered anything beyond platonic, her quadrants having never been actually filled in life. While some may have attributed this to a lack of feeling from Redglare and a lack of desire from any potential quadrantmate, it was mostly actually due to a lack of thought and interest from the tealblood. Despite quadrants being a paramount facet of troll life, the woman simply thought of her work as far more important and never really spent a second thought on seeking out a quadrantmate.
Powers/Abilities: Redglare’s most evident ability is her uncanny power to feel the proper action to take. A leftover factor of Latula’s Mind aspect, Redglare is very attuned to the correct path to take in every situation, and can easily discern unnecessary risks and dangerous routes with only a second’s thought.
Her other obvious power is the strength of her mind and brilliant deductive prowess. The envy of her descendant especially, Redglare’s ability to see through lies and relentlessly pursue suspects to admit their guilt is one of the primary reasons the Neophyte gained her prestigious position in the first place. She’s very easily attuned to small details around her, noticing everything from sights, smells, sounds, and feelings to analyze and judge every situation she’s presented with.
Then, of course, comes the natural biological facet of any troll: physical endurance. Redglare benefits from renowned hardiness like any other of her species, being able to sustain falls of incredible heights and able to cut off limbs and fight other trolls even without extensive training from her life of reading and learning. However, she is not a prime physical example of trollkind, as past her surprising agility and endurance is a distinct lacking of brute physical strength.
Keepsakes/Mementos: -White cane adnorned with the head of a dragon, which houses a blade inside
-Silver necklace with the symbol of the Sufferer, given to her by the Disciple
-Countless dense legal texts and records recording countless cases in Alternian history
-Signature red-shaded glasses which would honestly look ridiculous on anyone else
-Copies of the Disciple’s journals and writings
Sample: This was the wrong move.
This was the phrase that repeated in Redglare’s head over and over again as she dressed herself for the early night of the long-awaited trial of Mindfang. This was the wrong move. Not today. Postpone the trial. Forgo the verdict. Kill the pirate. Do anything except go into that damned courtroom. Who was she to reject her gut instincts? After all, they had done so well to get her this far.
Who was she? A damn stubborn woman with a vision in her mind of grandeur, of finally bringing this disgusting system to an end. Of tearing them apart from the inside out. The Neophyte silenced her inner voice with a final white button clasped to her vest. Staring at herself in the mirror, Redglare could feel a lump in her throat, one that wouldn’t go away with a powerful swallow. Her own body was turning against her, trying to close her neck and shake her head into a clearer state. This was the wrong move. She told herself again and again; she was about to throw all her pieces away for a feeble attack at the Queen, not even noticing that her own King was becoming ensnared in the process.
With a pointed glance, Redglare bares her triangular teeth at the mirror, telling herself to silence the voice within her. Nothing would stand before her and watching Mindfang squirm at the end of her remarks. If all went well, perhaps she would be squirming at the end of a rope. However, her instinct told her nothing would go well. Perhaps this guided her to move forward. Perhaps the slightest tinge of pity, or of pure black hatred, guided her to want to see just how well Mindfang could throw her off. Perhaps she was challenging the pirate, and challenging herself. Perhaps, truly, the prospect of death was welcoming to her; the only true ascension above the petty trolls and their hemospectrum built upon lies.
Whatever it was, Redglare saw the wrong move, and she made it with style. Grabbing her cane from its resting point, she turned to the door and left to meet her people, her crowd. The courtroom was beautiful, all alive with the shades of dozens of low hues, watching Redglare with eagerness and hope in their eyes. At least they held some semblance of hope.
Opening statements were such a bore. In all honesty, the Neophyte had barely rehearsed them. Her evidence was damning, her words were powerful, and her verdict was assured. Why bother with some common courtesy like opening statements when such a victory is all but guaranteed? As fate would have it, no one wished to hear the opening statements. Redglare’s eyes caught sight of Mindfang, wasting no time in bringing her powers into the forefront. How she wished she had the capability to care that she was quickly turning the tables. With her last glance at the pirate, Redglare showed nothing but a cold and distant disdain. It was a shame, really, that her oh-so-evident death would be brought about by such a cowardly method. She had honestly put more hope in the ceruleanblood. No doubt a subjuggulator would come rushing out from the stands to club her to a violent end. Whatever awaited her, she knew that there would be little escaping, and instead turns to her last support.
With a turn to the lowbloods in the stands, all joy in their eyes were gone, replaced by a piercing disdain and hatred for Redglare. This was the wrong move, and this was checkmate.
While Redglare wished she could say she kept her emotions hidden, such an idealism never occurred. Mindfang was a beast all in her right; she may have been an agreeable person, even one worthy of rivalry, but she was a cowardly criminal nonetheless. Her methods should never have bothered her, yet here Redglare faced one old friend she had not seen for quite the time: Crippling failure. That was the only descriptor of the feeling surging through Redglare’s limbs as she watched the lowbloods approach her.
She had failed them. These people, who she had tried her hardest to give her all for, were now staring at her. They looked through her as if she didn’t exist, hating her very essence and piercing her cold shell of an exterior. They looked at her for what she truly was: a frightened young woman, barely more than a child, hiding her failures behind an official suit and a powerful dragon. She failed. She failed them. She made the wrong move, and the only person she had to blame for it was herself.
The lowbloods groped at her shoulders, her legs, any point of her body they could reach. The pulled and tore the red cloth she wore, some had their fingernails dig beneath her teal bodysuit, drawing out fresh blood. They wouldn’t even speak to her, not even grace her with a proclamation of her failure. They only continued to raise her upward, a group effort to bring her to the noose. Why had they forsaken her? After all she had fought for, believed in, and even /killed/ for? Why would this be happening?
As her head was brought to the noose, Redglare’s eyes widened, though tears would not fall. She refused for them to fall. She refused to let herself show pity for her death. She had failed these people, and this death was justified. This was a conclusion she might have been brought to be at peace with, perhaps even accepting of, had she not caught one last glimpse of Mindfang.
She was smiling.
This was her doing. These lowbloods, they had not turned against her. THIS was Mindfang’s grand attack. This was Mindfang’s spineless last stand. This was all her plan. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rushing through her body at the feeling of being brought to her death, perhaps it was the irony surrounding her, or perhaps it was simply how ridiculous the whole scenario was, but Redglare couldn’t help but crack her terrified gasp into a wicked smile. Her teeth shimmered in the dim light of the courtroom as the noose was secured around her neck, eyes widened in a mania as she watched Mindfang continue her stationary work. A pirate always needed a crew to hide behind, it seemed; another criminal figurehead saved by the power of others.
With this thought, the rustling of the courtroom and general awe-shocked silence was broken by a piercing cackle. Redglare threw her head within its loose confines, laughing aloud at the men holding her up, at the woman in control, at the highbloods she had deceived, at the grotesque monster heading the court itself. With her last free breath, she laughed in their faces. There would be no mourning for her; her necklace would be discovered and her name disgraced. There would be no justice sought; Mindfang would merely slip back into hiding as the clown-faced trolls danced jovially to the news of another death, regardless of whose. There would be no remorse; the lowbloods would awaken from their stupor and stare up at her corpse, then feel pity for a short time before returning to their pitiful lives.
It was all so damn funny, for she could see it now. There was no justice in this world. Justice was dead, lynched and hung long ago by these disgusting pigs that called themselves trolls. They didn’t so much as flinch when the Signless died; why would she be any different? No, she would die without ceremony, and life would go on. However, from here, she could see clearly. There was no justice for this world, but it awaited them among the horizon. On the horizon Redglare rapidly approached, being lifted upon the countless outreaching arms of lowbloods, the legislacerator could see the light of true justice. She could see that those who were so inclined to kill her, to kill the Signless, would face their righteous judgment by a court much higher than her own.
Everyone is equal when they’re dead, after all.
The uproarious laughter was cut off with a simple tug by the collective of feeble minds, Redglare’s cackling replaced by silent gasps and strained chokes as she continues to smile and look up to the roof of the courtroom. Her fate was sealed, and her place beside the Signless himself was promised. Today she would leave this damned world, to take her position where she belonged, among those who followed the words of the righteous. And so she would leave, and not look back.
These trolls were all damned, and on that day; they lost their last savior.
Mindset: If her sample is anything to go off of, Redglare will be terribly disappointed upon waking in Monad. She thoroughly believed her death would separate her from the wicked, and sharing an afterlife with those who she held a thorough disdain for in the living world will likely be an infuriating turn of events. However, she will likely calm herself upon realizing there’s nothing she can do; after all, she’s not one to focus entirely on things she can’t control. More than likely, Redglare will continue to try and find purpose in her life at Monad, whether that be through working or any other method. She will also try to avoid those that she tolerated in life, seeing as how being dead likely excuses herself from potential punishments she could have faced otherwise. It will be a rocky transition, but Redglare will more than likely return to her normal self quite quickly, though her jarring death will leave some major bitterness at first.
G̶̶l̨͡i̵͢t̷c͝͠h̕é͠s̷̷͡: Redglare’s self-image issues haunt her even in death. Any sort of feeling of uselessness will make a doubtlessly powerful impression upon her. Alongside this, any degradation of her life’s work, mainly pointing out her purpose as pointless or her existence as having no effect will be profound on her own self-esteem. Tying in with this fear of failure, the potential thoughts of those she strove to help being disappointed or angry at her was a constant fear in her life, and still holds true into the afterlife. Finally, noose motifs and feelings of asphyxiation have an understandably terrifying effect on her, making her uneasy now that she’s had the pleasure of experiencing a hanging firsthand.
Canon: Homestuck
Gender: Female
Age: Low-10s in sweeps, so early 20s in human years at her time of death, remarkably young for a troll of her high bloodcaste and long lifespan.
History: Canon information here for Redglare
Canon information here for Latula Pyrope, her alternate universe self
Headcanon Information follows:
Redglare was hatched in a much different Alternia than most before or since, being in a turbulent age that served as the hotbed of a revolution which would change not only the fate of Alternia, but of surrounding planets themselves. Like most trolls who survived the trials of her planet, Redglare lived most of her earliest sweeps in caverns under constant fear of natural selection only fueled further by numerous life-threatening trials which await all trolls hoping to reach adolescence.
Upon completing these dangerous tests, Redglare, then an unnamed troll, gained a distinct honor which would not see repetition until long after her death. The tealblooded grub, only a mediocre shade on the Alternian hierarchy, was selected by a newly hatched dragon by the name of Pyralspite, who would serve as her lusus (a guardian of sorts for young trolls) and later companion. Unlike her descendent, Redglare had the distinct honor of living under the care and guidance of a hatched dragon, one that allowed her to survive fairly peacefully upon the solitary edges of a colorful forest covered in trees with bright pink blossoms. In these trees, Redglare and Pyralspite constructed a hive, or home, in which the young troll would stay fairly secluded during her childhood years.
Without worries of being killed by other aggressive members of her species, thanks to both her secluded home and moderately high blood caste, Redglare was able to focus her time studying dense legal texts and the basics of Alternian history, society, and laws. Her lusus, being blind until maturity, was often hidden away deeper in the forest, where she could be consulted by Redglare only when the troll needed it; otherwise, she was kept away in order to reach her full frightening size and gain her senses to overcome a surprisingly weak young state. Due to the youth of her lusus and its inability to communicate, Redglare was given no name by her lusus (unless she wished for a name that sounded like a baby dragon’s crying roars) as many other trolls had, and she instead opted to adopt a name based on the blind dragon’s piercing red eyes. Thus came the name Redglare, a name which is unique in its broken customs thanks to the girl having named herself once reaching the proper age to do so.
It was in this age of adolescence and early teenage years that Redglare was introduced to a force which would motivate her actions for the remainder of her short life. The Signless was killed by the very legal system she adored, and upon studying the case after the fact, the young girl became increasingly disillusioned with the Alternian legal system. The Signless’ death, she felt, was a permanent stain upon the entirety of the Empire, a blight which could not be removed without severe reorganization and rethinking. As she studied more into who the Signless, or later Sufferer, was, Redglare found herself enchanted by his messages. The tomes of his loyal Disciple captivated her, and she felt the messages resonate with her very beliefs and very self. Many nights she would sit in the ever-sprawling forests around her hive and speak to her lusus of the Signless’ beliefs, regaling and debating with the dragon over the notion that the hemospectrum meant naught in the world.
To her, there was only one truth and one decider, and that was true justice.
Redglare scoffed at the excused cases of murder in Alternia written off by highblood ink, the use of words like ‘culling’ to hand wave the murders of the masses. The fact that a lowblood could kill a man and be put to death while a highblood with similar sin walked free made her wretch at the notion. From here, she determined that her life would be devoted to the reworking of this crooked system. All trolls were equal, she would proclaim, and the color of one’s blood will not spare them the righteous constriction of the noose of justice. With the Signless as her witness, Redglare swore to tear down the hierarchy from the inside out. She would bring swift indignation to highbloods, and she would mix shades of noble and peasant blood upon the same gallows, and if her fate so led her to it, she would raise the Grand Highblood’s head itself as a trophy of her victory.
In this age of somewhat radical belief and rash thought, Redglare journeyed outward to find the last reachable member of the revolution itself, His Loving Disciple. Her hidden exile was nothing but a riddle to be solved by Redglare’s sharp mind, and after nights of research and sleepless plotting, the tealblood found herself journeying deep into the mountainous jungles, unexplored by the majority of the planet. Within a cave of otherwise complete unimportance, Redglare would find the Disciple, and she spent many a night returning to speak with her, to express her sympathy and beliefs with the distraught and increasingly disillusioned woman. She gave her promises and speeches of her future, of how she would carry on the Signless’ message herself, and she comforted the woman over their similar losses. For the Disciple, a loss of a love and irreplaceable light; for Redglare, the loss of an idol and hope in the current systems. These meetings would continue almost regularly, and the tealblood treated the Disciple as one of her few friends in this world, one of the few who saw the rare glimpse past her cynical and business-like façade. She even wore the necklace given to her by the Disciple wherever she went, a gleaming silver symbol of the man they both so firmly believed in.
When Redglare reached an age of about 8 sweeps, she sought out her ambitions in full. Dragon lusii mature rapidly after numerous sweeps of vulnerable childhood, and thus at this point Pyralspite was growing daily, though her sight was still quite a ways off. Redglare, with her dragon lusus in tow, set out to make a name for herself at this surprisingly young and active age in a troll’s life, seeking out her dream to become a legislacerator, loyal and steadfast legal servants of the Empress herself.
The process of becoming a legislacerator was a long and arduous task, involving countless attempts of independent glorified bounty hunting work to prove their worth and be noticed by Imperial scouts and officials. As such, Redglare spent her later ‘teenage’ years, as humans would call them, hunting down those who evaded imperial law and any who wronged their fellow trolls. Here, the tealblood stood as a candidate with no equal. Her uncanny ability to read the motives and methods of criminals paired with the impossible speed and might of her ever-present companion ensured that criminals targeted by her would never be able to escape. Ruthless and seemingly always one step ahead, Redglare left dozens of wanted trolls hanging by bright red nooses for discovery by the empire, a feat that would not go unnoticed.
Within only two sweeps, Redglare was recognized for her abilities and offered the position of a true legislacerator. Upon her hiring, she was given the title of “Neophyte”, the ranking of a low-level and newbie legislacerator. Unfortunately, even with her talent and veritable brilliance, Redglare would not advance beyond this title. From here, her meetings with the Disciple trickled to a complete stop, now that her actions were so carefully monitored by the Empire and her every move so crucial. She made herself a terror of the courtroom, one who would twist the laws of Alternia to her whims and find every troll before her guilty, no matter what rank they held and no matter what their position in the Imperial hierarchy may have been.
Her trials were a revolutionary show, one that went unnoticed by the Empire for how well the tealblood’s silver tongue could persuade the court into making the decision she wished, even if it were so blatantly against their own devices. Such events gathered a large following of lowbloods, eager to watch the few trials in which they could witness a seemingly legendary figure covertly bring their dreams to a gruesome and draconian reality. As such, Redglare’s trials were the only ones in Alternian history to allow lowbloods to spectate, most other courts keeping to highbloods so as to ensure there would be no problem. Before long, Redglare’s trials became entirely attended by lowbloods, all watching eagerly for the next neck to be brought to the noose, no matter what shade their cheeks would turn in their dying moments of asphyxiation.
The ambitious legislacerator would settle for nothing but the highest of glories, which led her, much akin to Icarus, to reach for the very sun. Her terrifying gaze, hidden by signature shades, was pointed to the infamous pirate, the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, during her last sweep of life. For this sweep, Redglare became obsessed with the woman, following her every step and every lead she could take. The renowned elusiveness of Mindfang made her an impossible target for most legislacerators far higher up the ladder than Redglare, but the Neophyte refused to surrender. Only by losing countless hours of sleep every bright and irritating Alternian day, and by devoting the majority of her time between trials, could Redglare finally catch a lead on Mindfang. From then on, she waited, roosted over her and watching her every move for the perfect time to strike.
Such an opportunity came on a night like any other. Mindfang’s fleet of outlawed ships were gathered for a momentary meeting, one which would prove disastrous to all. The shimmering white wings of a nearly matured Pyralspite silhouetted in the moonlight was all that alerted many of the crew to their impending doom, one which came so swift that none could even arm a cannon to deter the oncoming beast. Pyralspite’s flames ignited ammunition barrels aboard the ships, blowing countless trolls into the water, where they attempted to cling to burning driftwood for their very lives. Priceless treasures melted in the roaring heat, and ships fell into the smoky waters, the surface colored by countless hues of pirate blood and illuminated by fantastic red flames. Only Mindfang, of her crew hundreds strong, was left alive, though maimed with one eye blinded by Pyralspite’s brilliant eyes and one armed lopped off by Redglare’s sword. Only Mindfang would be left to stand trial, held within Redglare’s clutches until the fateful day.
In this time, Redglare was able to speak to the woman who she had obsessed over. Conflicted feelings had led her to this moment in the first place. She could have killed Mindfang along with her crew and have been awarded countless honors, but her hand was stayed by an odd feeling of hatred… perhaps pity? Regardless, Redglare enjoyed her talks with Mindfang before the trial. The two were not so different at the core, both taking issue with the legal system of Alternia, and both harboring hidden sympathies for the plights of the lowbloods. The difference, however, stood out to Redglare clearly: Mindfang was guilty, and Redglare was the one to deliver her justice.
That thought, however, would never come true. Redglare would be killed on the day of Mindfang’s trial, as the lowbloods in the courtroom were manipulated against her and she was left hanging by her own noose.
Personality:
Redglare is often defined by her steadfast beliefs, which leads to an incredibly polarized view of the world around her. To her, most things are incredibly black and white, and she is quick to judge people based on any aspect of their personality that she sees as wong or in conflict with her beliefs. This is fortified by her draconian punishment of any that she decides the fate over. She has no trouble looking over a person’s past or other facets of their personality when it comes to a decision of guilty or innocent, often very quick to reach her conclusion. More often than not, of course, she finds people guilty due to her cynicism and disdain for those who use their status as any excuse to harm others, otherwise justified or not.
Her beliefs often form the backbone of her inner thoughts. She follows the Signless to a nearly religious extent, oftentimes even praying with the necklace of his symbol. This is mostly due to how the doctrines of the Signless are the closest thing she has to follow, after being so thoroughly disillusioned by the systems of justice and authority she had followed beforehand. As such, she is also quick to overlook any faults or criticism any may have of the Signless or his followers, believing wholeheartedly that the closest the world had ever gotten to a man of true innocence and justice was in the Signless himself. This also means she is quick to show disdain to any who distort the Signless’ message. Had she lived to witness the Summoner’s rebellion, she would have made herself sure to execute those involved for their blatant disregard of the Signless’ true beliefs.
Her fanaticism for her beliefs, however, are often controlled outside of the courtroom and her thoughts. Given that she needed to survive within the very organization which put the Signless to death, she became very effective at keeping her burning desire for rebellion within herself and suppressing her disdain for those in command of her. Her personality is mostly one of reserved stoicism, oftentimes keeping a straight face no matter what conversation she is involved in and normally following required orders to a T. However, many can note that Redglare maintains a very sarcastic and humorous personality through her perceived stoicism. Often she mixes deadpan backhanded remarks in with serious statements so she can inwardly smirk at the reaction, or lack of one, she gets.
Redglare Pyrope has a very potent sense of humor. This remark is a shock to almost anyone who has had to work beside the straight-faced law-woman, who seems to have a perpetually growing stick lodged snugly in her ass. The few people who are able to speak to her candidly will find that her deadpan remarks can often lead to snickering laughter once out of the public eye, and that her lips are usually curled upward into the slightest of grins during private conversation, which is usually gratuitously peppered with inside jokes and double-edged remarks. Much like her descendant, she often thinks she is one of the more funny people she knows, even if others would disagree.
On more personal matters, away from beliefs and humor, Redglare is often quick and efficient with everything she does. Small talk is essentially nonexistent to her, and unless someone is speaking to her of business, she will quickly bring an abrupt and punctual end to the conversation so she can get to more important matters. Her vocabulary, given her more reclusive and book-intensive childhood, is often refined to a pretentious degree, full of legal jargon and unnecessarily long words that border on pretentious. When it comes to decisions, she will almost always pick whatever choice stick closest to the law and efficiency, very rarely taking risks unless she truly believes in the cause behind it.
Beneath this professional look, however, is an incredibly curious side of the Neophyte. Like her pre-scratch self, Redglare has a guilty streak of uncharacteristic thrill-seeking and overt casualness repressed in her past that still occasionally shines through when she’s off the record and relaxed. Archaic and somewhat embarrassing lingo still slips into her vocabulary at times, forming an odd mix of formal business speak with occasional 90s surfer words. If someone is to catch her off-guard, she can sometimes make rash and bold decisions for the hell of it, though she will be extremely embarrassed of herself after the fact. Old habits die hard, after all, though that doesn’t make them any less painfully shameful. Even her name is a shining example, a single word which seemed, at the time, to have captured the radical feeling of a badass dragon, but now is just a groan-worthy combination of words to write on a legal sheet bound for the Empress.
Even further at the core of Redglare’s personality lies a more dark facet of her mind. Despite her numerous achievements and ambitious methods, the Neophyte was notably self-conscious and self-depreciating throughout her life. Every step she took was judged by herself to the point that she nearly hated everything she did, thinking herself a failure no matter what. This crippling self-doubt leads her to overthink almost any possibility and feel a horrific anxiety about any action she wishes to take. Only through the words of the Signless and putting up a distant personality as a shield can Redglare find solace from the constant criticism of her own mind, unable to let her true insecurity show for fear of making herself seem even more useless than she already feels.
In terms of relationships, Redglare holds few loyalties and connections. She believes herself closest to the believers of Signless, though she only ever met the Disciple in her lifetime. With the Disciple, she felt most comfortable and genuinely happy to be in contact with, opening up with her to an unusual degree and actually opening up to her unlike most which she stays closed and distant to. Her lusus, Pyralspite, is another close contact. Unlike many other trolls, Redglare respected and loved her lusus fully, the main reason for why they made such a cohesive and powerful team in the ranks of Imperial legislacerators. Her lusus was quite possibly the only creature she had ever spoken to about her crippling self-doubt issues which plagued her for the entirety of her life.
Her other contacts range generally from ‘acquaintance’ level to ‘disgusting person’. On the latter half of the scale is the Grand Highblood, a man the Neophyte felt nothing but the most platonic of hatred for. Seeing him as the epitome and figurehead of the forces that killed the Signless, Redglare wished nothing more than to be the one to bring his overly sized neck into a noose and end the system of ‘justified’ culling he represented. Most if not all of their personal interactions are completely looked over by Redglare, who sees him essentially as the very essence of the devil himself, if the Signless were to be her prophet. Ironically, however, she holds no such ill will towards the Condesce. An inlaid sense of loyalty for the laws and semblance of order the Empress brings with her words makes Redglare eerily accepting if not loyal to the Empress.
The most complicated of her lifelong contacts is Mindfang herself. Perhaps in part due to her polarizing judgment of people paired with the beliefs they seemingly shared, Redglare found that the only person she could not fling an immediate label upon was Mindfang. This conflicted feeling was not helped in the least by how closely Redglare followed Mindfang’s life, to the point of putting herself in the pirate’s shoes and trying to think like her to an obsessive extent. This strange obsession led to her actually admiring the pirate’s work, even feeling the slightest hint of red feeling for how quickly the ceruleanblood thought and how worthy of a challenge she proved. When the time came for Redglare to kill Mindfang or allow her trial, Redglare went against all precedents of merciless justice and allowed the woman to live, if for nothing else than to speak to her. The mixing of red and black feelings would persist throughout the last sweep of Redglare’s life, even to the point where she was hanged.
Other than Mindfang, Redglare kept incredibly exclusive to herself. Thanks to her solitary childhood, the Neophyte was an incredibly independent troll, even among a race so notorious for independence and personal separation from the whole. She kept few friends, and even fewer were considered anything beyond platonic, her quadrants having never been actually filled in life. While some may have attributed this to a lack of feeling from Redglare and a lack of desire from any potential quadrantmate, it was mostly actually due to a lack of thought and interest from the tealblood. Despite quadrants being a paramount facet of troll life, the woman simply thought of her work as far more important and never really spent a second thought on seeking out a quadrantmate.
Powers/Abilities: Redglare’s most evident ability is her uncanny power to feel the proper action to take. A leftover factor of Latula’s Mind aspect, Redglare is very attuned to the correct path to take in every situation, and can easily discern unnecessary risks and dangerous routes with only a second’s thought.
Her other obvious power is the strength of her mind and brilliant deductive prowess. The envy of her descendant especially, Redglare’s ability to see through lies and relentlessly pursue suspects to admit their guilt is one of the primary reasons the Neophyte gained her prestigious position in the first place. She’s very easily attuned to small details around her, noticing everything from sights, smells, sounds, and feelings to analyze and judge every situation she’s presented with.
Then, of course, comes the natural biological facet of any troll: physical endurance. Redglare benefits from renowned hardiness like any other of her species, being able to sustain falls of incredible heights and able to cut off limbs and fight other trolls even without extensive training from her life of reading and learning. However, she is not a prime physical example of trollkind, as past her surprising agility and endurance is a distinct lacking of brute physical strength.
Keepsakes/Mementos: -White cane adnorned with the head of a dragon, which houses a blade inside
-Silver necklace with the symbol of the Sufferer, given to her by the Disciple
-Countless dense legal texts and records recording countless cases in Alternian history
-Signature red-shaded glasses which would honestly look ridiculous on anyone else
-Copies of the Disciple’s journals and writings
Sample: This was the wrong move.
This was the phrase that repeated in Redglare’s head over and over again as she dressed herself for the early night of the long-awaited trial of Mindfang. This was the wrong move. Not today. Postpone the trial. Forgo the verdict. Kill the pirate. Do anything except go into that damned courtroom. Who was she to reject her gut instincts? After all, they had done so well to get her this far.
Who was she? A damn stubborn woman with a vision in her mind of grandeur, of finally bringing this disgusting system to an end. Of tearing them apart from the inside out. The Neophyte silenced her inner voice with a final white button clasped to her vest. Staring at herself in the mirror, Redglare could feel a lump in her throat, one that wouldn’t go away with a powerful swallow. Her own body was turning against her, trying to close her neck and shake her head into a clearer state. This was the wrong move. She told herself again and again; she was about to throw all her pieces away for a feeble attack at the Queen, not even noticing that her own King was becoming ensnared in the process.
With a pointed glance, Redglare bares her triangular teeth at the mirror, telling herself to silence the voice within her. Nothing would stand before her and watching Mindfang squirm at the end of her remarks. If all went well, perhaps she would be squirming at the end of a rope. However, her instinct told her nothing would go well. Perhaps this guided her to move forward. Perhaps the slightest tinge of pity, or of pure black hatred, guided her to want to see just how well Mindfang could throw her off. Perhaps she was challenging the pirate, and challenging herself. Perhaps, truly, the prospect of death was welcoming to her; the only true ascension above the petty trolls and their hemospectrum built upon lies.
Whatever it was, Redglare saw the wrong move, and she made it with style. Grabbing her cane from its resting point, she turned to the door and left to meet her people, her crowd. The courtroom was beautiful, all alive with the shades of dozens of low hues, watching Redglare with eagerness and hope in their eyes. At least they held some semblance of hope.
Opening statements were such a bore. In all honesty, the Neophyte had barely rehearsed them. Her evidence was damning, her words were powerful, and her verdict was assured. Why bother with some common courtesy like opening statements when such a victory is all but guaranteed? As fate would have it, no one wished to hear the opening statements. Redglare’s eyes caught sight of Mindfang, wasting no time in bringing her powers into the forefront. How she wished she had the capability to care that she was quickly turning the tables. With her last glance at the pirate, Redglare showed nothing but a cold and distant disdain. It was a shame, really, that her oh-so-evident death would be brought about by such a cowardly method. She had honestly put more hope in the ceruleanblood. No doubt a subjuggulator would come rushing out from the stands to club her to a violent end. Whatever awaited her, she knew that there would be little escaping, and instead turns to her last support.
With a turn to the lowbloods in the stands, all joy in their eyes were gone, replaced by a piercing disdain and hatred for Redglare. This was the wrong move, and this was checkmate.
While Redglare wished she could say she kept her emotions hidden, such an idealism never occurred. Mindfang was a beast all in her right; she may have been an agreeable person, even one worthy of rivalry, but she was a cowardly criminal nonetheless. Her methods should never have bothered her, yet here Redglare faced one old friend she had not seen for quite the time: Crippling failure. That was the only descriptor of the feeling surging through Redglare’s limbs as she watched the lowbloods approach her.
She had failed them. These people, who she had tried her hardest to give her all for, were now staring at her. They looked through her as if she didn’t exist, hating her very essence and piercing her cold shell of an exterior. They looked at her for what she truly was: a frightened young woman, barely more than a child, hiding her failures behind an official suit and a powerful dragon. She failed. She failed them. She made the wrong move, and the only person she had to blame for it was herself.
The lowbloods groped at her shoulders, her legs, any point of her body they could reach. The pulled and tore the red cloth she wore, some had their fingernails dig beneath her teal bodysuit, drawing out fresh blood. They wouldn’t even speak to her, not even grace her with a proclamation of her failure. They only continued to raise her upward, a group effort to bring her to the noose. Why had they forsaken her? After all she had fought for, believed in, and even /killed/ for? Why would this be happening?
As her head was brought to the noose, Redglare’s eyes widened, though tears would not fall. She refused for them to fall. She refused to let herself show pity for her death. She had failed these people, and this death was justified. This was a conclusion she might have been brought to be at peace with, perhaps even accepting of, had she not caught one last glimpse of Mindfang.
She was smiling.
This was her doing. These lowbloods, they had not turned against her. THIS was Mindfang’s grand attack. This was Mindfang’s spineless last stand. This was all her plan. Perhaps it was the adrenaline rushing through her body at the feeling of being brought to her death, perhaps it was the irony surrounding her, or perhaps it was simply how ridiculous the whole scenario was, but Redglare couldn’t help but crack her terrified gasp into a wicked smile. Her teeth shimmered in the dim light of the courtroom as the noose was secured around her neck, eyes widened in a mania as she watched Mindfang continue her stationary work. A pirate always needed a crew to hide behind, it seemed; another criminal figurehead saved by the power of others.
With this thought, the rustling of the courtroom and general awe-shocked silence was broken by a piercing cackle. Redglare threw her head within its loose confines, laughing aloud at the men holding her up, at the woman in control, at the highbloods she had deceived, at the grotesque monster heading the court itself. With her last free breath, she laughed in their faces. There would be no mourning for her; her necklace would be discovered and her name disgraced. There would be no justice sought; Mindfang would merely slip back into hiding as the clown-faced trolls danced jovially to the news of another death, regardless of whose. There would be no remorse; the lowbloods would awaken from their stupor and stare up at her corpse, then feel pity for a short time before returning to their pitiful lives.
It was all so damn funny, for she could see it now. There was no justice in this world. Justice was dead, lynched and hung long ago by these disgusting pigs that called themselves trolls. They didn’t so much as flinch when the Signless died; why would she be any different? No, she would die without ceremony, and life would go on. However, from here, she could see clearly. There was no justice for this world, but it awaited them among the horizon. On the horizon Redglare rapidly approached, being lifted upon the countless outreaching arms of lowbloods, the legislacerator could see the light of true justice. She could see that those who were so inclined to kill her, to kill the Signless, would face their righteous judgment by a court much higher than her own.
Everyone is equal when they’re dead, after all.
The uproarious laughter was cut off with a simple tug by the collective of feeble minds, Redglare’s cackling replaced by silent gasps and strained chokes as she continues to smile and look up to the roof of the courtroom. Her fate was sealed, and her place beside the Signless himself was promised. Today she would leave this damned world, to take her position where she belonged, among those who followed the words of the righteous. And so she would leave, and not look back.
These trolls were all damned, and on that day; they lost their last savior.
Mindset: If her sample is anything to go off of, Redglare will be terribly disappointed upon waking in Monad. She thoroughly believed her death would separate her from the wicked, and sharing an afterlife with those who she held a thorough disdain for in the living world will likely be an infuriating turn of events. However, she will likely calm herself upon realizing there’s nothing she can do; after all, she’s not one to focus entirely on things she can’t control. More than likely, Redglare will continue to try and find purpose in her life at Monad, whether that be through working or any other method. She will also try to avoid those that she tolerated in life, seeing as how being dead likely excuses herself from potential punishments she could have faced otherwise. It will be a rocky transition, but Redglare will more than likely return to her normal self quite quickly, though her jarring death will leave some major bitterness at first.
G̶̶l̨͡i̵͢t̷c͝͠h̕é͠s̷̷͡: Redglare’s self-image issues haunt her even in death. Any sort of feeling of uselessness will make a doubtlessly powerful impression upon her. Alongside this, any degradation of her life’s work, mainly pointing out her purpose as pointless or her existence as having no effect will be profound on her own self-esteem. Tying in with this fear of failure, the potential thoughts of those she strove to help being disappointed or angry at her was a constant fear in her life, and still holds true into the afterlife. Finally, noose motifs and feelings of asphyxiation have an understandably terrifying effect on her, making her uneasy now that she’s had the pleasure of experiencing a hanging firsthand.