#rwby thread

How Salem influences RWBY as their enemy: Ruby and Yang's connection is quite obvious—Salem killed Summer Rose, their mother. For Ruby, Summer was her birth mother, and for Yang, she was the woman she counted as her mother. For Blake, it's obvious that Salem influenced the White Fang directly through Adam, and before that, indirectly through her inner circle member Cinder, so Blake would obviously hate Salem.

For Weiss, there wasn't really much connection at the beginning, as her problems were with her father and the SDC. However, after Salem was responsible for the fall of Atlas, both indirectly and directly, Weiss has every reason to hate her.

Ruby Rose:

Salem killed Summer Rose, Ruby's birth mother

This gives Ruby a deeply personal reason to oppose Salem

Yang Xiao Long:

Salem killed Summer Rose, the woman Yang considered her mother

Yang shares Ruby's personal vendetta against Salem

Blake Belladonna:

Salem influenced the White Fang directly through Adam Taurus

Salem also affected Blake's life indirectly through her inner circle member, Cinder Fall

Blake has clear reasons to hate Salem for corrupting the cause she once believed in

Weiss Schnee:

Initially had little connection to Salem, as her problems centered on her father and the SDC

After Salem's direct and indirect responsibility for the fall of Atlas, Weiss now has every reason to hate her

The destruction of her homeland made the conflict deeply personal for Weiss

Arthur Watts' Roast of Yang Xiao Long

Oh, Yang Xiao Long, the fiery brawler with a temper as short as your fuse and a ego as inflated as your... assets! (chuckles maliciously) You strut around like the sun itself, all golden hair and explosive punches, thinking you're the unbreakable heart of Team RWBY. But let's be real—you're a ticking time bomb of hypocrisy, impulsiveness, and unearned arrogance, a so-called hero whose every reckless swing leaves devastation in her wake! Your "strength" is just a crutch for your failures, your loyalty a selective farce, and your insistence on bulldozing through life has endangered everyone around you. Let's dismantle your pathetic delusions piece by scorching piece, shall we?

From the start, you've been a thrill-seeking fool, charging into battles like a mindless berserker, too hotheaded to think beyond the next punch. You lost to Neo because she danced circles around your predictable rage, and Adam? He sliced off your arm like carving a turkey, all because you barreled in without a plan, relying on your Semblance to bail you out. But oh, the aftermath—losing your arm and Blake's abandonment sent you spiraling into a pit of depression, where you turned cold and distant to poor little Ruby, treating her like an annoyance while you wallowed in self-pity. You viewed Blake as a traitor, seething with betrayal, yet you had the audacity to accuse Weiss of not understanding suffering—despite hearing her tales of abuse and neglect from Jacques time and again! You ignored her pain to make yourself the ultimate victim, proving your "compassion" is as shallow as your temper is deep.

You "got better," they say, but really, you just traded depression for vindictiveness, becoming the most cynical, blame-shifting member of your ragtag team. You're unafraid to lie, keep secrets, or spout half-truths when it suits you—harshly condemning Ozpin for his deceptions while hiding your own. Double standards much? In Volume 8, you had the gall to pin everything on Ruby's "poor leadership," claiming her recklessness doomed you all. Sure, Ruby's plans were half-baked, but you're conveniently forgetting your own betrayal: sneaking behind everyone's back to blab about Amity Tower to Robyn, shattering Ironwood's trust and accelerating Atlas's collapse. You lit the fuse that blew up the kingdom, yet you point fingers like a petulant child, ignoring your role in the chaos. Your arrogance blinds you to your own hypocrisy—preaching teamwork while undermining it at every turn.

Your fights? A parade of public endangerment! You smash through clubs, highways, and cities without a thought for the innocents caught in your explosive crossfire. In Argus, your temper drew Grimm hordes; in Atlas, your impulsive decisions helped Cinder snatch the relics. You insist on doing things your way, bulldozing obstacles instead of outsmarting them, and it’s cost lives—friends, kingdoms, everything. Your Semblance screams your flaws: soaking up damage like a masochist, only to explode in rage, wearing yourself out and leaving you vulnerable. Taiyang tried to teach you to fight smarter, not harder, but you still rely on brute force, proving you're too stubborn to learn.

And let's not forget your abandonment issues, "Sunny Little Dragon." Raven ditched you at birth, Summer vanished, Taiyang checked out—boohoo! But instead of growing, you obsess, nearly killing yourself and Ruby as kids in your mad hunt for answers. Even after "controlling" it, you let it fuel your cynicism, lashing out at allies while excusing your betrayals. You're not a protector—you're a wrecker, a self-righteous disaster who drags your team down with your ego. Your moral contradictions are laughable: condemning secrets while hoarding them, blaming others while dodging your guilt, preaching strength while crumbling under pressure.

Comparison and Contrast of Cinder Fall and Salem in RWBY

Cinder Fall and Salem, as central antagonists in RWBY, exhibit numerous parallels in their traits, motivations, and roles, yet stark contrasts emerge in their backstories, power scales, personalities, and narrative evolutions, as detailed in canonical wiki entries and user-provided speculations emphasizing Cinder's clearer motivations and potential independent threat level versus Salem's opacity and immortality-driven agenda.

Parallels in Motivations and Goals

Both characters are driven by a profound hunger for power rooted in past traumas of powerlessness, aligning with user speculations that Cinder embodies many of Salem's traits. Cinder's abusive childhood at the Glass Unicorn hotel, marked by starvation, bullying, and a shock collar, fuels her declaration to become "strong, feared, and powerful," mirroring Salem's ancient isolation in a tower and her curse of immortality after deceiving the Gods to resurrect Ozma, which transformed her into a being seeking to end Remnant for her own death. Their goals converge on acquiring godlike abilities: Cinder pursues Maiden powers to dominate and dismantle institutions like Beacon Academy, while Salem aims to gather Relics to summon the Gods, divide Humanity, and destroy the world, promising similar elevations to subordinates like Cinder. User documents highlight Cinder's motivations as more defined—seeking empowerment through destruction—paralleling Salem's suicidal ambition to break her curse by sowing discord, with both viewing power as a means to escape vulnerability, whether mortal abuse or eternal existence.

Parallels in Personality Traits and Leadership

Cinder and Salem share ruthless, manipulative leadership styles, demanding absolute obedience while tolerating limited unruliness, as noted in wiki descriptions and user observations of Cinder's shift to an "angry second-in-command." Cinder operates on a need-to-know basis with subordinates like Emerald and Mercury, slapping them for disobedience but valuing their skills, akin to Salem's fair yet collegial approach with her Inner Circle, boosting egos (e.g., Watts) or exploiting fears (e.g., Lionheart) while discarding the obsolete, such as killing Lionheart via a Seer Grimm. Both relish psychological cruelty: Cinder gloats over victims like taunting Pyrrha before her death or impaling Weiss to spite Jaune, echoing Salem's sadistic delight in forcing Ozpin to witness Atlas's destruction. Arrogance and intolerance of failure unite them—Cinder's explosive rages at criticism parallel Salem's imperious outbursts, like binding Hazel for misplaced blame—reinforcing user points that Salem possesses many of Cinder's traits, including cunning manipulation to undermine enemies.

Parallels in Skills, Powers, and Grimm Ties

Combat prowess and destructive abilities link the two, with Cinder's evolution reflecting a demoted version of Salem's mastery, as per wiki canon and user speculations on Cinder's pre-injury competence. Both wield offensive-focused styles with high pain tolerance: Cinder's swordsmanship, marksmanship, and superhuman strength (e.g., lifting and breaking necks as a teen) contrast but parallel Salem's superhuman feats, like flipping tables or regenerating from decapitation. Powers overlap in elemental magic and Grimm control—Cinder's Fall Maiden abilities enable fire blasts, flight, and limited Grimm influence (e.g., commanding a Wyvern), while Salem's innate Magic includes energy beams, fireballs, and absolute Grimm command, mutating hybrids like the Hound. Cinder's Grimm arm (Shadow Hand), grafted by Salem for power theft and punishment, directly ties her to Salem's Grimm-altered form post-Pools immersion, granting stretching limbs and smoke emission. User documents emphasize Cinder's Maiden powers as sufficient for Grimm control and escalation to a "monstrous or godly" threat, snowballing independently, which parallels Salem's hybrid creations and world-ending scale but on a derivative level.

Contrasts in Backstories and Vulnerabilities

While both stem from isolation and loss, Cinder's motivations are more relatable and detailed in canon, as user speculations assert, contrasting Salem's ancient, mysterious origins with lingering unknowns. Cinder's mortal abuse by a step-family and mentor Rhodes culminates in her killing them, shedding a tear for betrayal, providing clear psychological scars like detesting physical torture but enjoying psychological torment. Salem's backstory, involving divine deception, rebellion against Gods, and murdering her family in rage, remains opaque with mysteries like her full history with Summer Rose or unresolved daughter feelings (conjured as smoky images), making her "unlikeable" per user views, as heroes achieve little direct impact against her immortality. Vulnerabilities diverge: Cinder's Grimm integration renders her susceptible to Silver Eyes, causing maiming and dependence, while Salem's curse ensures indestructibility, regenerating from ash without limits, highlighting user points that "heroes can't really do much" against Salem, with key opponents like Ozma dead or reincarnating cyclically.

Contrasts in Personality and Evolution

Cinder's impulsive arrogance and jealousy of talents like Pyrrha's contrast Salem's patient, intellectually humble demeanor, respecting Humanity's ingenuity without personal vendettas. Wiki entries detail Cinder's shift from cunning mastermind in Volumes 1-3—outsmarting heroes via infiltrations and Beacon's fall—to a "dumb muscle lackey" post-injury, relying on brute force like Grimm arm claws and betraying allies (e.g., Watts and Neo) without foresight, as user documents critique. Salem remains composed and adaptive, tolerating unruliness but punishing disobedience (e.g., via Cinder's arm), evolving from kind mother to destructive force over millennia without demotion. User speculations note Cinder's pre-injury wins and clear goals make her more engaging, while Salem's predictability and failure to detect lies (e.g., Cinder's) underscore her as a detached, existential threat, with Cinder's hypocrisy (claiming independence while submissive) amplifying contrasts to Salem's self-assured authority.

Contrasts in Roles and Independent Threat Potential

"I know we often discuss Ruby Rose doing very little to stop Salem, and ultimately, while she does indeed seem quite passive, it's largely a case of her having a lot on her plate. From the Atlas disaster to dealing with Neo, she's truly unable to prioritize confronting Salem because she's overwhelmed with other pressing problems.

Foil Analysis: God of Light (RWBY) vs. The Outsider (Dishonored)

1. Origin: Divine Creator vs. Sacrificial Mortal

The God of Light is a primordial deity, emerging from the Great Tree in the Ever After alongside his brother, the God of Darkness. As a creator god, he shaped the Ever After and Remnant, crafting life and establishing the balance of creation and destruction. His divine origin grants him an inherent authority and detachment, viewing worlds like Remnant as "beautiful experiments." His power is intrinsic, tied to his role as a cosmic force of order and creation.

In contrast, The Outsider is a deity of human origin, born from a 15-year-old outcast ritually sacrificed by the Envisioned cult 4,000 years before Dishonored. Merged with the Void through a brutal ritual, he became its representational figure, trapped in a state of eternal observation. His mortal roots imbue him with human emotions but an alien perspective, making him a reluctant god bound by the Void’s will rather than a creator by choice.

Foil Dynamic: The God of Light’s divine, self-originating nature contrasts with The Outsider’s forced ascension from mortality, highlighting the former’s authoritative control and the latter’s tragic entrapment. The God of Light’s creation of worlds underscores his proactive cosmic role, while The Outsider’s passive existence as the Void’s avatar emphasizes his lack of agency, making his curiosity about human choices more poignant.

2. Personality: Orderly Authority vs. Detached Curiosity

The God of Light is soft-spoken, strict, and temperamental, driven by a commitment to maintaining cosmic balance. His demeanor is diplomatic yet unyielding, as seen when he refuses to revive Ozma to uphold the sanctity of life and death, or when he curses Salem with immortality as poetic justice. His interactions with humanity, such as offering Ozma reincarnation, reveal a blend of empathy and rigid adherence to order, with a willingness to enact cruel punishments to enforce his principles.

The Outsider, however, is defined by a detached, amoral curiosity, described as having “human emotion, but inhuman perception.” His tone is often sarcastic or deadpan, reflecting a boredom born of millennia observing humanity. He engages with mortals like Corvo or Emily not to enforce rules but to see how they wield power, showing amusement at unpredictable choices and disdain for mundane actions. His subtle hostility, as when taunting Daud about his guilt, contrasts with moments of surprising softness, like revealing his tragic origin to Emily.

Foil Dynamic: The God of Light’s rigid, order-driven personality contrasts with The Outsider’s aloof, curious detachment, embodying the “Lawful Authority vs. Chaotic Observer” archetype. The God of Light’s strict enforcement of balance makes The Outsider’s nonjudgmental observation seem more neutral, while The Outsider’s fascination with human agency highlights the God of Light’s controlling nature, revealing the latter’s hypocrisy in bending his own rules.

3. Approach to Empowering Mortals: Structured Mission vs. Chaotic Freedom

The God of Light empowers mortals with a clear, structured purpose. He grants Ozma reincarnation to unify humanity, creating the four Relics (Creation, Destruction, Choice, Knowledge) to aid this mission. His empowerment is conditional, tied to his goal of redeeming humanity, with the threat of global destruction if Ozma fails. Similarly, his creation of the Silver Eyes power is a deliberate gift to specific humans, aligned with his ability to destroy Grimm, reinforcing his control over his creations’ roles.

The Outsider empowers mortals like Corvo, Daud, or Emily by granting his Mark, which bestows supernatural abilities without specific directives. His motivation is curiosity, selecting “interesting” individuals to see how they use power, whether for good or ill. He provides tools like the Heart or Timepiece but avoids dictating actions, as seen when he lets Corvo choose between lethal and non-lethal paths. His minimal involvement, such as giving Daud Delilah’s name, is rare and driven by a desire to prevent cosmic disruption, not to enforce a grand plan.

Foil Dynamic: The God of Light’s structured, goal-oriented empowerment contrasts with The Outsider’s chaotic, open-ended gifting of power, fitting the “Purposeful Mission vs. Free Will” archetype. The God of Light’s conditional aid underscores his authoritarian control, making The Outsider’s hands-off approach appear liberating, while The Outsider’s unpredictable outcomes highlight the God of Light’s obsession with order, even at the cost of suffering.

4. Moral Framework: Order-Oriented Morality vs. Blue-and-Orange Morality

The God of Light operates within a rigid moral framework centered on maintaining balance between creation and destruction. He views humanity as an experiment, showing empathy (e.g., granting Ozma a chance at redemption) but prioritizing order, as seen when he permits the God of Darkness to wipe out humanity or curses Salem with immortality to teach her the value of life and death. His morality is hypocritical, as he bends his own rules by reincarnating Ozma, revealing a willingness to manipulate for his vision of balance.

The Outsider embodies a blue-and-orange morality, neither good nor evil, driven by curiosity about human choices. He grants powers to individuals like Delilah or Corvo without regard for their moral alignment, finding low-chaos (non-lethal) actions intriguing and high-chaos (violent) ones predictable. His disapproval of Delilah’s godhood ambitions stems from her threat to free will, not a moral stance. His human origins make him sympathetic to the powerless, yet he remains a dispassionate spectator, unmoved by human suffering unless it surprises him, as when Corvo spares Daud.

Foil Dynamic: The God of Light’s order-driven morality contrasts with The Outsider’s amoral curiosity, embodying the “Law vs. Chaos” foil archetype. The God of Light’s punitive justice (e.g., cursing Salem) makes The Outsider’s neutral observation seem less cruel, while The Outsider’s fascination with choice highlights the God of Light’s manipulative control, exposing his moral inconsistencies.

5. Narrative Role: Cosmic Arbiter vs. Enigmatic Catalyst

The God of Light serves as a cosmic arbiter in RWBY, shaping Remnant’s fate through his creation of the Relics and Ozma’s mission. His departure after humanity’s rebellion and his promise to judge humanity upon his return position him as a distant overseer, with his actions driving the central conflict between Ozma and Salem. His role is authoritative, setting the stakes for Remnant’s survival or destruction based on his standards.

The Outsider acts as an enigmatic catalyst in Dishonored, indirectly influencing events by empowering key figures like Corvo, Daud, or Delilah. His presence weaves through the narrative, from narrating outcomes in Dishonored to aiding protagonists against Delilah in Dishonored 2. His role in Death of the Outsider—where he aids Billie despite her mission to kill or free him—underscores his passive yet pivotal influence, destabilizing the world when removed from the Void.

Foil Dynamic: The God of Light’s role as a cosmic arbiter contrasts with The Outsider’s enigmatic catalyst, fitting the “Judge vs. Observer” archetype. The God of Light’s authoritative judgment makes The Outsider’s minimal interference seem more subtle, while The Outsider’s catalytic role highlights the God of Light’s heavy-handed control, emphasizing the latter’s detachment from humanity’s struggles.

6. Physical and Symbolic Representation

The God of Light appears in humanoid and draconic forms, both radiating golden light with silver eyes and branching antlers, symbolizing creation and authority. His Domain of Light, with golden trees and serene lakes, reflects his orderly, radiant nature. His Silver Eyes power, inherited by select humans, symbolizes his controlled influence over Remnant.

The Outsider manifests as a young man with black eyes and a shadowy aura, tied to whales and rats, symbolizing the Void’s chaotic, primal nature. His unchanging appearance reflects his human origin, while his shrines and bone charms, carved from whale bone, embody his connection to the supernatural. His Mark, his lost name in a dead language, symbolizes his fractured identity.

Foil Dynamic: The God of Light’s radiant, orderly imagery contrasts with The Outsider’s dark, chaotic aesthetic, reinforcing their thematic opposition. The God of Light’s golden light and antlers emphasize his divine authority, while The Outsider’s black eyes and Void imagery highlight his alien detachment, making their visual contrast a microcosm of their philosophical differences.

Conclusion

(I made organized this in a prompt but it was so brutal that I had to share it with the world.)

Arthur Watts' Roast of Ruby Rose

Oh, Ruby Rose, the ever-optimistic beacon of hope! (chuckles darkly) Look at you, prancing about with your silver eyes and your childish dreams, thinking you’re the hero Remnant so desperately needs. But let’s be honest, shall we? You’re not a hero—you’re a walking disaster, a whirlwind of failure wrapped in a red cape, leaving a trail of chaos everywhere you go! How’s that boundless optimism working out for you, hmm? Let’s take a stroll through the wreckage of your so-called "heroics."

First, let’s talk about your friends—oh, wait, the ones you couldn’t save? Pyrrha Nikos, burned to ash right in front of you because you were too slow, too weak, too busy chasing fairy tales to stop Cinder from tearing her apart. And Penny Polendina? Poor, naive Penny, brought back only to be slaughtered again under your watch. You were supposed to protect her, Ruby! You were her friend! But no, you let her slip through your fingers, twice, because apparently "hope" isn’t enough to keep a soul alive. How do you sleep at night, knowing their blood stains your hands?

And then there’s Argus. Oh, what a shining moment for the great Ruby Rose! You thought picking a fight with Caroline Cordovin was a brilliant plan, didn’t you? Throwing a tantrum, swinging your scythe like a toddler with a toy, and what did it get you? A Grimm invasion, that’s what! You stirred up a storm of negative emotions, painting a target on an entire city just so you could play hero. Did you even stop to think about the people in Argus? No, of course not! You were too busy believing your own hype, thinking your heart of gold could solve everything. Spoiler alert, Ruby: it didn’t.

Let’s not forget your marvelous handling of General Ironwood. The man was trying to save Atlas, to protect what was left of a crumbling world, and you—what did you do? You turned your back on him, sowing distrust, fracturing alliances, because you couldn’t stomach sharing the truth about Salem. You thought you knew better, didn’t you? You and your ragtag team of idealists, preaching unity while driving a wedge through the Atlas Military. And when Ironwood fell, when he broke under the weight of your betrayal, did you take responsibility? No! You just kept skipping along, pretending your moral high ground made you untouchable.

But the crown jewel of your incompetence? Atlas. The entire Kingdom of Atlas, Ruby, reduced to rubble because of you. You thought you were so clever, using the Relic of Creation to evacuate the city. A grand, noble gesture, wasn’t it? Except, in your infinite wisdom, you handed Salem and Cinder the perfect opening to snatch both the Relic of Knowledge and the Relic of Creation! Congratulations, Ruby, you didn’t just lose a battle—you lost an entire kingdom and two relics in one fell swoop! That’s not just failure; that’s a masterclass in catastrophic idiocy. Did you even consider the consequences, or were you too busy dreaming of silver-eyed victories?

You keep waving that optimism like a banner, shouting about hope and friendship, but what has it gotten you? A body count of friends, a city in ruins, and Salem laughing as she tightens her grip on Remnant. You’re not a leader, Ruby—you’re a liability. You think because you’ve suffered, because you’ve lost, that you’re entitled to be the savior? Suffering doesn’t make you special. It doesn’t make you worthy. You have to be smart, Ruby, and you? You’re about as sharp as a sack of hammers. You have to be strategic, but you’d rather charge in with a smile and a scythe, leaving everyone else to clean up your mess.

You’re not a hero, Ruby Rose. You’re a migraine. No, worse—you’re a plague, infecting everyone around you with your reckless, delusional optimism. You think you’re destined to save the world? The world would be better off if you’d just stayed in Patch, sipping hot cocoa and dreaming of fairy tales. Because all you’ve ever done, all you’ll ever do, is lead everyone around you to their doom.