Click to hear their voice claims!
Music Video 6: Fuck You
YouTube Version
Text Transcripts
The video is set to the song "Fuck You" by Lily Allen. The lyrics will be transcribed in brackets [ like this ] and precede a description of the scene that happens during them.
Scene transitions will be noted with an asterism, like this: ⁂
The video is in a black and white colour scheme. The onscreen lyrics will sometimes be colour-coded according to who is being referred to.
Now look a bit harder.
'Cause We're so uninspired, so sick and tired,
Of all the Hatred You harbour. ]
Def-Se, outfit now changed to a snazzy waistcoat and bow tie, begins its musical number.
Well, I think You're just Evil You're just some racist who can't tie my laces Your Point-of-View is Medieval ]
Def-Se does a smug little dance while Reception beatboxes off beat and poses in the background. Mirasol has no idea how to react to the ridiculous scene.
'Cause We hate what You do
And We hate Your whole crew
So, please don't stay in touch ]
Mirasol watches in annoyance as Def-Se and Reception continue their singing and dancing.
'Cause Your Words don't Translate
And it's getting quite late
So, please don't stay in touch ]
Def-Se rearranged the Wire of Reality around the blank canvas of the Margins until they form a spider web like formation with a heart at the centre, and Mirasol can only helplessly watch in confusion and worry.
Out of being small-minded?
You want to be like your father, it's approval you're after
Well, that's not how you find it ]
Def-Se ties the Wire around Mirasol's neck, kicking her in the head as it pulls the Wire tighter. Mirasol berates Def-Se for what it's doing, which seems to make it hesitate for a moment, but it continues with tying her up.
Living a life that's so hateful?
'Cause there's a hole where Your soul should be
You're losing control a bit, and it's really distasteful ]
Def-Se argues back against her and finishes the arrangement it was doing with the Wire. It snaps its fingers and Reception immediately jumps to action, flinging Mirasol against the spider web.
[ Loading architecture… ] chimes in Def-Se's Hypothetical Voice. After several moments of waiting with nothing happening, Def-Se says "Pick up the pace V.A.R.A. You are ruining My Artistic Timing."
'Cause We hate what You do
And We hate Your whole crew
So, please don't stay in touch ]
Woosh'd!
A podium suddenly sprouts from underneath Mirasol, launching her up into a significant height. The Wire reforms as a bird cage around her, and V.A.R.A watches in confused terror as a ginormous, medieval tower seems to be erected out of nothing around her.
'Cause Your Words don't Translate
And it's getting quite late
So, please don't stay in touch ]
Mirasol looks up to find herself trapped in the cage, the very centre of its roof retaining the same heart shape. Several more podiums pop out of the floor, which Def-Se uses to climb up with a sense of beguiled lightheartedness, stopping right in front of Mirasol's level and leaning forward with an elbow resting on a podium, smiling at her condescendingly.
As the enigmatic tower finishes its construction, Def-Se raises its arms and myriads of its birds descend, soaring around the tower.
Fuck You, fuck You, fuck You
Fuck You ]
Def-Se waves an arm around and in an instant, their outfit changes to that of a Judge's, summoning a mallet and taking of its spectacles. Under Def-Se's instruction, the birds alight on the tower's ridges and from out of their throats, people's hands push themselves out, and soon an assortment of other limbs.
Mirasol stares up at them, somehow looking different: scratchier and full of gaps. Seemingly encroached by a dark void, she watches as multiple eyes stare back at her.
Well, You're already in one.
'Cause it's people like you that need to get slew
No one wants Your opinion ]
The gavel in Def-Se's hands grow in size, and Def-Se leaps across the podiums towards the roof of the cage.
'Cause We hate what You do
And We hate Your whole crew
So, please don't stay in touch ]
With a powerful swing, Def-Se brings the mallet's head down on top of the cage, right where the heart is, and the force of it causes the Wire the cage is made of to intensely vibrate. With the Wire still tied around her neck, the vibration reverberates towards Mirasol, shocking her. She covers her ears, eyes shut in agony, before opening them and staring in shock at something unshown.
'Cause Your Words don't Translate
And it's getting quite late
So, please don't stay in touch ]
What Mirasol saw and what happened after the altercation is never shown as Ava cuts her story short.
"Intermissional Anecdote over. Back to the task at hand," she says curtly.
Bien holds the radio, staring at it in confused irritation. "Wait, I didn't get what that last part was all about at all. There was some building?"
"It was a Recursive Panopticon," Ava clarifies in a way that answers nothing.
"I thought we were talking about the components of the Living or something. What on Earth is a 'Recursive Panopticon'?"
"I already explained this," Ava says, very conveniently for the plot, as one may have it.
Bien's frustration grows. "You keep introducing new info out the wazoo with absolutely zero context or pretense to explain what you mean."
The sigh is palpable in Ava's voice. "Look, from your vantage point, Time appears to be linear even though it is actually unstable. I tell you things in proper order where I am but that doesn't mean you will perceive it that way. From my perspective, we have been stuck on this Intermission for about half a year.
"It will all make sense eventually, but for now I need you to write a new code down."
Bien isn't satisfied enough to let the issue go. "Who was the random spacey dude?????"
"That was the Angel Mirasol, my previous Vessel."
"So if the three Immortals are Angels, Demons and Marginals and Mirasol is an Angel but you aren't Mirasol then what are you supposed to be?"
"No more silly questions."
Marginal Notes #2
Here is something to note: language was not a creation of the Immortals, and the usage of it was not needed among them until the growth of the first Marginal necessitated a way for Heaven and the Margins of Reality to communicate.
Beforehand, all Immortals worked off of instinct. It was through learning language from the Living that the first Marginal began to evolve. As its abilities strengthened, language became the faculty from which all magic derives.
Language is also one of the Requirements of the Living: specifically, while many beings can be said to have "language" in the broadest sense, what distinguishes the language of the Living from the non-Living (and argued to be the only component to do so) is recursion.
After delving deeper into the subject, I have found that while recursion is traditionally considered to be a uniquely Living component of language, there exists some preliminary research that claims recursive syntax may exist to a limited capacity in non-Living birds.The tower is fully constructed, appearing as a long column with each floor being a smaller iteration of the one preceding. V.A.R.A. speaks.
[ If a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
The universe exists inside itself through the recursion of how it remembers its inhabitants, and how its inhabitants remember it.
All the objects of a world: they exist simultaneously as a result of the wires of reality, and as the disturbances in the fabric of space-time that causes the wires to vibrate in the first place.
But this cycle is just that: vibrations.
A vibration is not a sound until it is heard. ]
[ As the inner thoughts of a sentient being are nigh limitless, yet only echoes of the world outside of it, even the near-infinite cycle cycle of recursion of the world is bound to the reality it subsists.
[ As the inner thoughts of a sentient being are nigh limitless, yet only echoes of the world outside of it, even the near-infinite cycle cycle of recursion of the world is bound to the reality it subsists.
And so this cycle joins an even wider cycle of recursion, where the angels in heaven both make it into reality, and sees it for the reality it already is and always has been.
The world is but a sound spoken by the chorus all wires, the voice of reality itself, and heard by all that it is and all that surrounds it: the very essence of space and time. ]
Mirasol stares up at her cage, looking less… solid. The birds surround her.
[ As perception informs cognition informs action informs perception again is sung this cycle:
the hands of time,
the holding of space,
the hands of time,
the judgment of the living,
the voice of reality,
Def-Se wears a smug smile from its podium. "A bit of a convoluted mess, reality is, isn't it?" it says.
One of the birds grabs on to the bar of Mirasol's cage, surprising her. Def-Se continues its monologue.
"It seems Simple on the Surface, No? When a Mother Begets a Child, and that Child Begets a Child of Its Own, etcetera, etcetera, You have a Cycle. But the Recursion makes It Tricky. A Mother Makes a Child but a Child does Not Make Its Mother. Right?
The bird sings a strange note, which seems to shock Mirasol somehow.
"Even when a Child becomes a Mother, that Child is the Mother only to Its Own Child. You are Not a Mother to Your Own Mother!
"Well… That is a Simplistic Way of Looking at It.
"A Child does Make Its Mother. By Being Born, the Child Transforms a Person into a Mother, by Being Its Child. If the Child is Not Born, the Person does Not become a Mother, It is simply what It is."
The bird stares at Mirasol, its eye taking on an uncannily realistic quality. It disconcerts her, and she mutters "…What? D-don't look at me."
Def-Se continues. "A Mother may very well be a Mother Already Inside of Its own World, where the Thoughts of the Child and the Begetting and the Raising of It Have Happened, but it is only through the Birth that this Motherhood is Confirmed in External Reality. Another way the Nature of Reality extends Itself to Its Inhabitants, Yes? A Cycle of Recursion."
Def-Se's appearance shifts ever-so-slightly, their smile looking less genial. "When a Universe Dies, Its Objects are Judged to See Who Makes It Into the Next Universe. Whatever is Left becomes Me.
"The Judgment of the Living.
"That is What I Thought it was. The verdict of which of the Living persist as Real and which melt into the pitiable primordial soup of the Margins.
"you weren't There When I was Born. That's why I couldn't Be at all, Right? Why I Couldn't Be in the Living World. Reality Exists only through your Perception, and the Day I Was Born you Weren't There."
Def-Se's grin widens, looking more sinister.
"I believed that was the Verdict against Me. The Evil Incorrigible Mediocre Don't Make It, Right? The Judgment of the Living.
"It Took Me This Long to Realise. As you made Us. We Made You, right?"
"The Reason We were Left Behind wasn't just because of the Judgment Against Us, was it?"
Def-Se raises their arms up, hands grasped tight around the Judge's mallet, gaining momentum for the inevitable swing.
"It Was Because you Were Afraid of the Judgment We Would Have of you."
Notes
This is the worst of all the videos and the fact Bendy and the Ink Machine does a funny little fully animated dance doesn't cut it. Would breadavota.cafe be elevated by the existence of more fully animated dance sequences? Maybe, but I don't like animations, so we're not going to do that again.
Ava says that from her vantage point, they were stuck at the Intermission for half a year because it took half a year to finish this video, and by the end of it you can tell when it was getting tedious, anyway.
Eh he he he. Ja ja ja. You know animations are expensive, yes? I am once again asking for your financial support. I'm kidding. Since there was no team of animators behind this that needed to be paid there's nothing anybody would need to pay for. But it would sure be nice to just pay somebody else to do all the boring ass animation instead.