Things I like

Structurally speaking, ATLA did something important with Zuko that, in a purely mechanistic sense of narrative development, I think a lot of people don’t notice immediately, and that even fewer people who want to emulate what was done with him get.

Which is Zuko is made a protagonist VERY early, and the show goes out of its way to continually place Zuko into situations where the audience empathizes and roots for him.

This happens in literally the second episode of the series, if we count the two-part premiere as a single episode, which I think we should. The A-plot of that episode, “The Southern Air Temple,” is Aang reckoning with the genocide of his people… but the B-plot?

The B-plot is the introduction of Zhao, and more specifically, his introduction in a way that is calculate to shift the audience, whose introduction to Zuko did NOT engender a ton of sympathy to him, directly and forcefully onto his side. They want Zuko to kick Zhao’s ass.

This continues all through book one and book two. Remember, Zuko is never, ever the main villain of this series. That’s initially Zhao, followed by Azula and Ozai. (Plus various temporary players like Long Feng.) Whenever Zuko isn’t placed into direct conflict with the other protagonists, he’s always written and presented in a way that is careful, VERY VERY careful, not to make him too monstrous, and to make us root for him. He’s placed right next to Iroh, who is designed for people to like, and that reflects back onto Zuko; we want Zuko to be better than he is because we want Iroh to have good things.

1.) 

He made a deal with Aang to leave the Southern Water Tribe alone if Aang went with him. When Aang escaped with help from two of those tribe members, Zuko didn’t demand they go back and destroy what was left of the tribe as revenge. He didn’t even think of it as an option. There was no split second where he went, should I/shouldn’t I?

2.) 

This is repeated. He corners the Avatar somewhere, causes some damage to the area in the ensuing fight, but does not stick around to raze the village/monastery to the ground and kill the people when he doesn’t get what he wants. Doesn’t consider this a necessary action even once.

3.) 

The Iroh&Zuko relationship is juxtaposed with the Zhao&Zuko relationship. Both older men have more power over him. Iroh is a retired War General and Prince who is not banished. Zhao is a Commander in favor of the Firelord, who is also not banished. We could tell early on that Iroh is wise and despite being on the bad side, seems to be pretty chill. We took a liking to him immediately. Zhao is the opposite. He is very much like early!Zuko. Impulsive, rude, loud, cocky, etc… But why is he more annoying? Why do we root for Zuko as opposed to him? 

Because we see what Zuko is like with his Uncle Iroh. Iroh does not rub in the fact that he’s banished. He doesn’t use that when reprimanding him for his attitude or his failings. That is a hot iron and he knows it. It’s to the point where Iroh can bend fire in Zuko’s face and Zuko is perfectly relaxed over it and doesn’t once believe his uncle will hurt him. There is a lot of faith in Iroh, from this angsty teenager, and it’s very obvious with their interactions.

Zhao is not trustworthy from the start. We’re shown this by how both Zuko and Iroh are hesitant to interact with him and don’t want to linger in areas he has control over, for too long. They even lie to him despite him obviously having more favor in the Firelord’s eyes than either of them do. Zhao’s personality opposes both Zuko and Iroh. And as we like Iroh, we want him to win and have nice things, as stated above. But Zuko&Iroh is a package deal. And as Zhao reveals himself more and more to be nasty even if it’s subtle, we want Zuko to win even harder.

And even when Zuko wins and he’s in the prime position to do to Zhao what Ozai did to Zuko for also ‘speaking out of turn’… he doesn’t do it. He walks away. He is the bigger man in that scenario. And Iroh further puts shame onto Zhao when he goes against the sacred rules of the Agni Kai because he can’t handle a loss to a banished teen. We are shown that Zuko follows rules and has honor, which is reinforced by Iroh’s, ‘even in exile, my nephew is more honorable than you’. Iroh’s Word is basically Law at this point. Sf he says it is so, then he must be right and the audience accepts that. He knows Zuko better than us and hopefully we’ll get to understand more as the story progresses.

Already by the 3rd episode, we’re shown that Zuko is in no way the worst person from the Fire Nation. In fact, we’re given a sort of scale now from the four major Fire Nation people we know of. Iroh–Zuko——-Zhao–Firelord.

We’re also hoping that Iroh rubs off on Zuko enough for him to also become wise and learn to chill out.

4.) 

When “The Storm” finally rolls around, we’re pretty invested by then in the Iroh&Zuko relationship and that episode gives us so much more info into Zuko’s character and we are shown that Iroh is right. He has honor and he cares for others. And yet it’s obvious the Firelord doesn’t because we see Zuko do the right thing(protesting the plan to treat new recruits as cannon fodder) in the wrong place, and then his face gets burned off by his father because of it. And further, he’s banished for refusing to fight his own father. What sane parent wants to do battle with their own child? What sane parent banishes their child for speaking out of turn at the defense of their own peoples’ lives? What the fuck is wrong with the Firelord?

Zuko was punished severely for showing compassion and having a kind heart. And Iroh(and the ship crew even) is properly mortified by the punishments his nephew received for it, which in turn affects the audience’s perception of this situation. Iroh doesn’t like it, it’s especially bad then.

Now we start wondering why does Zuko wants to go back to the guy who burned his face off?! Iroh, talk some sense into him! PLEASE!

Halfway through S1, they got us to the point of wanting Zuko to have a redemption arc. 

Canonically, according to MB, it gleans self-esteem from the following: when people recognize it’s there to help them, when it solves something in a clever way (bonus if a human sees), and when it successfully saves its people. These have to do with people recognizing it’s a smart, independent entity who is good at its function. But I would counter that the majority of Murderbot’s self-esteem actually comes from its easy ability to be a martyr. To destroy itself for others, maybe even as a sort of final proof that it’s “good” and “safe.”

Murderbot’s got a lot of anxiety around people perceiving it as dangerous. It often talks at great length about how frequently it was shot with friendly fire on past contracts, how the reason it’s awkward around humans is that humans are afraid of it. And then there’s that scene at the end of Network Effect, where Murderbot says that ART had told its crew about it, but that it had made MB sound safe and not like a terrifying Murder Machine. being described neutrally, let alone positively, feels off to it.

I mean! Murderbot’s got complicated feelings about itself! There’s the SecUnit fights, people misusing SecUnits as CombatSecBots, combat overrides, and even code attacks/glitches like Ganaka Pit. All of this not even touching on the thorough propaganda.

We don’t have to look further than its chosen name: “Murderbot” is a pejorative like “sexbot,” which reduces constructs—these incredibly complicated machine/organic hybrids—to a crass understanding of their function. That MB calls itself this is a little tongue-in-cheek and a little genuine self-abasement.

But despite the name, the propaganda, and its experiences, SecUnits were not created to murder, they were created to protect. And the way Murderbot has interpreted that function is via self-destruction. To sacrifice itself for humans. Even if it wasn’t literally coded into it, MB was definitely shaped this way via a “social development” that ensured it experienced dehumanization and alienation.

This dehumanization and alienation it endured at the hands of the company made it associate bodily harm with good things (or positive things, at least). Let’s start by looking at when it was still with the company: getting injured meant time in a cubicle, where it could have some uninterrupted time for itself. it could watch media in an enclosed space where it didn’t have to worry about anything but itself for a bit.

Then once it’s with the PresAux crew (or ART), it gets tangibly *physically* cared for when it is injured. People show it care and regard and help put it back together.

It’s worth mentioning that when MB is hurt, its cognition is often down. This means it can’t be as guarded. It’s vulnerable, and in this state it is treated with care. It is finally getting some direct emotional support in these moments. It’s also tangible proof that people are considering it, that they have not abandoned it like the survey instruments at the beginning of ASR. Getting rescued is something we know really melts it. It’s almost like a really painful test: if Murderbot proves it’s not evil by destroying itself, its reward is people going back for it… but the test is still predicated on usefulness.

So we have all of these examples of how Murderbot’s self-esteem is tied to its own physical harm, and that it gets positive feedback in certain key ways when it’s injured, but i think it goes further than that. There are actually at least three examples of deliberate self-harm in System Collapse:

When it is having a mild freak-out about the shuttle landing when they’re first looking for the separatists, Murderbot says to let it jump out of the shuttle at like 20+ meters (+66 feet), which everyone obviously gets upset over.

After Leonide torpedoes their diplomatic approach with the separatists, Murderbot is so distressed it thinks about how it wishes it could smash something, especially itself.

Later, MB observes Iris almost throw her interface, and it says: “Been there. Threw my whole body at a wall once.” This is more frustration than straight up distress, but the impulse to harm itself to combat negative feelings still holds.

Its body is a thing. The company owned it. There are logos on it that it can’t remove, and any record of its self-sacrifice is erased. Swiped clean. Its physicality is that of an appliance it has no control over, but maybe its physical destruction can redeem it in the eyes of others. So, harm is evidence of a good job, it is a means of proving itself, it’s a release valve, and a means of receiving care.

(^@gertritude-art)