In Memory Of Sokovia

In memory of Sokovia

A little oneshot I thought about while writing Zemo- I’ve decided to put it here.

Zemo tells an audience of children all about Sokovia, how the earth there was rich and matted, and all around them tall grass would spin out crackling sounds.

That if you walk far enough into the rising mountains, till you could only see the tops of the low terrace houses and the smoke spiraling up lazily from your house chimney, and you closed your eyes: you’d hear the rise and fall of hissing grass, they’d turn in huge ocean waves as the wind blew.

He would name all the mountain ridges, from the snowy peaks, all the way to the parts where the ice melted and trickled down into streams, gathering into cold rivers and bubbling springs. The water would be a pale green from afar, and a hazy yellow up close, reflecting the small brown rocks that lined the bottom.

He’d tell them that where the river mouth was, the water was flowing clear and crisp, and children used to drink from it and catch tadpoles. A kilometer down, where the bustle of the town was, the river would be sun-warmed and algae infested, swirling lazily around and releasing the deep grassy perfume of the hills, saturating the air. In summer this was even more so.

When the plum and apple trees were ripe you could pick the fruits as they came bobbing down the river. The children would stand at the banks and fish them out with long nets, and even those that were partially rotten would be taken back home.

When the sun rose you could hear the song of the Stieglitz- the goldfinches, all across the valley. And the Gimplel with their red bellies and the Blaumeise, the rotund little scoundrels with their small beaks.

There’d be roads of crunching gravel and houses built on hills, stacked up like a mound of uneven books, the steps and rooftops cascading down into flatland where the bridge crosses the river and meets land.

You could harvest berries from the mountains, any berry was the right one, all were ripe and burst into sugary water in your mouth. You could pluck them straight from the stems, collect bunches and bunches, eating and spitting out the seeds as you went.

When the apple flowers bloomed he would wear crowns of them in his hair, spun by the maids that worked for his mother and father. They smelt delicate and sweet, like roses but without the dampness, and just a hint of fresh apple skins. When he was young he had thought they were cherry blossoms, for they looked so much alike. And he would tell the children in a conspiratorial whisper, that these were better than cherry blossoms, for they flourished for months and months instead of a mere week.

And then the children, in wonder and amazement, would tug at his sleeves, asking him to point out his country on the map. Zemo’s gaze would drift away, his face would settle into the mould of its suffering... Sokovia was gone from the maps, would only exist in his memory.

Slowly, the children would see that he was drifting away, they would lose interest and run away to play together, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Sitting alone, Zemo thinks of fires burning and towns flying, snow melting under tremendous heat. He remembers water evaporating, berries and flowers crushed under stampeding feet, and the smell of smoke. The grass is no more, the roads and the rooftops are no more, they’ve been covered by wet concrete.

John Walker: a study in story framing, character archetype, established canon details, and audience manipulation

There’s been a ton of discourse surrounding the character of John Walker, everyone has a lot of opinions. But having read many articles, posts, tweets, and watched reaction channels and video essays, I have found a common theme among them: a fundamental misunderstanding of the character due to the story framing.

In fact, the character of John Walker that exists in fandom discussions is more of a projection of what people think he is and what people want him to stand in for rather than the actual canonically established character that exists in the story of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier. This is why I have decided to write this post along with an episode-by-episode breakdown, because I think John Walker the character has been completely eclipsed by John Walker the symbol, lost underneath the iconography that he’s been associated with and not really given a fair look as an individual person.

I should make it clear upfront; it is not my intention with this to tell people how they should feel about a character. Whether you agree with my points or not doesn’t really matter. My hope is that this at the very least provides you with a different perspective on the character and his motivations. Maybe have you consider him in a new way.

So, let’s start from the beginning.

——————————–

EPISODE 1

Story framing is important, it effects our perspective as an audience, and it is deliberately controlled by the writers and filmmakers to manipulate certain emotions and impressions out of us. The Falcon and The Winter Soldier expertly does this from the very beginning by framing John Walker immediately as someone whom we should not want.

Because the music is mournful and ominous despite the celebratory occasion shown on TV.

Because Sarah is upset.

Because Sam has his fists clenched and is unhappy and suspicious, and then closes his eyes in upset.

Because when dialogues like this is delivered, the show is purposefully playing into real life iconography and feelings that already raises our hackles.

Because Sam retired the shield and the hero position, so when someone else seemingly carelessly and casually steps in waving like a propaganda piece with a gun on his hip, and a grey flag symbol that looks so close to the thin blue line flag used by cops, there is something unsettling to us even if we didn’t consciously pick up on it, we just know that it goes against what we want and what our main protagonist wants.

Because this strange person in a Cap costume winking looks like a jerk. We didn’t ask for this.

As it’s always said, first impressions are important. How someone first perceives you decides how someone might judge anything that you do. If someone thinks you’re an arrogant jerk, then anything you do will be colored by that impression and they will never think well of your intentions. But if their first impression of you is kind and caring, then any mistakes you made is automatically given leeway because your intentions would be well considered. And in one fell swoop, the show firmly planted into the minds of every single person watching that John Walker is an arrogant jerk espousing propaganda no one wants and everything he does is automatically suspect and questionable.

In fact, they even go the extra step to make that very clear by how the cast credits is used. Notice the difference between the image of Walker in Episode 1 and Episode 2-6?

The red mark over his eyes, blocking him from us, not only feels foreboding, it feels as if it’s warning us.

So, when I say that John Walker was from the beginning set up to fail, it’s because he was, the story intended for it to be. We have to hate, question, suspect, and think the worst of Walker in order for Sam’s eventual reclaiming of the shield to mean anything or have that emotional catharsis. Because nobody wants to see Sam take the shield from a nice dude, it would be bittersweet or even mean, but if the story tells us that this guy is someone we can dislike or hate right off the bat because there is something vaguely “bad” about him, then we would root for Sam to take that shield.

There is a reason we don’t get Walker’s perspective at all in his introduction. He’s just this stranger we’ve been programmed as an audience to hate. We are not treated to Walker waiting to go outside and feeling nervous, or Walker doubting himself or perhaps even not wanting to take up the shield at first when it was given to him. The purposeful lack of his perspective is done so we only feel the weight of emotions from the Wilsons being upset, because we must relate to the protagonists.

Walker is not the hero of this story, he’s not the protagonist of this story, if he was, then the story would have framed his unveiling as Captain America in a completely different way, and we would have been treated to a sympathetic look at what he was feeling about taking on the shield, we would have had an inside look at his mindset before he walked out there and looked into that camera and winked. But because we the audience lack that important context that was deliberately kept away from us, our views on Walker formed and solidified without it, and then we all stewed on those feelings for a whole week.

By the time Episode 2 rolled around to open with Walker’s perspective, the damage was already done, it was too late, because people had already made up their mind about what kind of a person he was, and even those who might have given him a chance was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The show had very clearly made sure that John Walker was always going to have an uphill battle in the eyes of the fans, however fairly or unfairly. And that deliberate and purposeful removal of his perspective and context would be the key to how the character will be misread. Because the reality is, Walker hasn’t even done anything wrong yet and people have already made assumptions just because of one wink, just because of his mere presence. There was no objective consideration that Walker winked because he understood having to put on a cheerful public facade, no consideration that he could have been told to play along nicely for the cameras and directed to look there and wink, no consideration that he didn’t ask for this job but was ordered to do so and is as much a “victim” of the government as Sam. Because the show had already used every trick in the book to make us feel bad and ominous about his presence, the audience would automatically assume the worst.

CLICK THIS LINK TO CONTINUE TO EPISODE TWO AND THE REST OF THIS 219 PAGES AND OVER 28K WORDS ANALYSIS

330 notes View Post

obnoxiouslylongandboring

3 years ago

Lmao I was laughing nervously in the theatre because I was like- guys, that was a CHOICE 👁👁

I saw someone pointing this out....(sorry I didn't know who you are anymore if you saw this please notify me) this must be part of Simu Liu's fault too because he literally can't take his eyes off of Tony Leung on set he was so star struck 🤣. Simu HE is your dad in the movie please.

50 notes View Post

obnoxiouslylongandboring

3 years ago

This is a very interesting concept! I’m not sure who von Strucker is, but I’m willing to find out. I love diplomacy and political intrigue.

Actually, this is something I would consider writing. Let’s see how long my fascination with Zemo lasts, hehe

Sokovian politics

So….in the MCU, von Strucker is german.

But what if, for fanfic purposes, he was Sokovian? Both him and Zemo (at that point still Heinrich, but the point still stands) are barons. They’d both be Sokovian aristocracy. They could be rival houses, with von Strucker bringing HYDRA into Sokovia and Baron Zemo hating it. There would be a lot pf political scheming and manouvering going on, some of it maybe involving EKO Skorpion, Helmut’s team.

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obnoxiouslylongandboring

4 years ago

Nnngh yes, I would like that as well

The fact that there's no walkerbaron alpha/omega fic 😭 I want a beasty walker railing a young zemo so bad (consensual of course)

I KNOW RIGHT? I would love some Alpha Walker just being all protective over Zemo 24/7 and treating him like a princess and I would die for a flustered Omega Zemo who just cannot help but blush everytime the Alpha praises him

Zemo definetly would be like how is it possible that this man is making me all docile and passive?! He would be SO angry and pissed but at the same time like please, call me pretty again!

Also, I do believe Walker would give everything Zemo asks for, in everyway 😏

18 notes View Post

obnoxiouslylongandboring

4 years ago

Daddy Issues

Zemo, as a young man, is frequently neglected by his father. When he grows up, he is extremely receptive towards approval from men older than him and subconsciously chases after their stray bits of affection.

---

Helmut finds that he converses more easily with adults. He leaves his peers behind, waits for them to leave the classroom before he goes up to the podium where his professor was arranging his papers. He tiptoes up to rest his elbows there, tips his chin up to smile at the man. The professor, Mr Weber, looks down at him curiously.

"Helmut, is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

Hearing his own name, a slow curl of warmth settles into his belly. Helmut resisted the urge to giggle- it would be unprofessional. This was already toeing the line as it is, he shouldn't try his luck. Instead, he handed Mr Weber his worksheet.

"This question, I don't understand it," he said softly as one does when they are savouring a moment. Here, he didn't have to be loud to be heard, didn't have to shout halfway across the manor to match his father's booming voice, didn't have to entertain any guests.

Mr Weber takes the worksheet, looks carefully through Helmut's calculations. His eyebrows are scrunched up in concentration, a single strand of hair slips out from where he's tucked it behind his ear. Helmut breathes out slowly, matching the rise and fall of Mr Weber's shoulders.

His professor frowns. "Helmut, we went through this in class yesterday," he chides. But there's no disapproval in his voice, no harsh rebuke, and Helmut preens under the tone like a flower facing the sun. He shuffles a little on his tiptoes, rubbing one foot on the other, wringing his hands. Sheepishly, he asks if Mr Weber could go through the question again, and his teacher complies with a fond sigh.

"Come a little closer," Mr Weber says, and Zemo complies. Standing almost side-by-side, his teacher is taller than him by a head, maybe even more. Helmut looks up in blinding adoration, but his eyes dart back to the worksheet shyly as Mr Weber starts explaining with that calming, instructional voice.

You could tell me to do whatever and I'll do it, Helmut thinks breathlessly.

He tries to understand the best he can, and gets it quite quickly when he actually listens. Mr Weber had taken him under his wing and taken a liking to him, as Helmut slowly worked his way down to one of the assistance-required and remedial-required students. He liked it, to be honest- it was a guilty pleasure to know that his teacher would take care of him, would give special attention to help him. He'd find himself leaving little careless mistakes on the paper every now and then, just so that he could hear those words - Helmut, you'd do so well if you would just check. Be more careful next time, alright?

At home, he must be tall and proud and stick out his chest. His voice must be like a bull's roar, it must be like rolling thunder. His father expects him to be a man, when all he wants to do is stay a boy.

But here, with someone else, that is what he can be.

He can be short. If he didn't wear high-heeled shoes, he would receive pats on the head from other men tall enough to rest their elbow on his shoulders.

Here, he can be stupid and dumb and slow on the uptake. If he wasn't manipulative or cunning, he would be confided with the small little trinkets of their secrets and feel oh so warm on the inside.

Zemo smiles easily at older men, for they give what his father denied him.

---

When he joins EKO Scorpion, he takes a shine to one of the older, more compassionate commanders, a man of 6 foot of solid muscle. Commander Muller. But now, twenty-three years old, it is time to be a man... even though he's never really received the nurturing love that would guide him out of childhood.

---

Helmut is a Baron, after all. He joins the political ring, plays coy games with a foreign ambassador twelve years older than him. Mr Lanto, he remembers. It makes the conferences bearable. He must be cold, cunning, ruthless. He speaks into the microphone with a sharp growl that makes the speakers tremble. But under the table, one of his gloved hands is clasped over the other, drawing slow circles on his wrist in the parody of a grounding touch.

---

Helmut marries. His wife is sweet and kind, her skin smells like flowers. She wants to have two children. He wants to be a better man than his father.

But sometimes, it's not what you want, it's what you know.

And when his first child is born, a beautiful boy with his wife's eyes, he panics. Helmut leaves to rejoin the military and EKO Scorpion, goes back to the days where he can stop thinking, where there are only barked orders that he needed to follow. The innocent, starved flower within him had erupted into a raging inferno, an animalistic craving.

Helmut stays faithful. But when he returns from the civil war, he brings back a determination that has doubled. This time, he gives his son the love that his own father denied him. He makes sure that his precious boy would never have to seek out warmth in the arms of another older man.

---

Sokovia comes and goes.

---

Helmut is broken out of the Raft by a group called the Thunderbolts. John Walker has broad shoulders and hands that can crush a man's skull. He is attentive and instructional when he points at the map and lays out their plans of attack. He challenges and provokes, so much so that Helmut gets dizzy trying to keep up.

The moment he realizes is on one winter day- when John drapes an arm over his neck, and he could feel the warmth of the man burning at his side like a furnace. Helmut's breath hitches, but John doesn't seem to notice.

The boy in him rears his head for the first time in years, and Helmut thinks- oh god.