Shatterbird, who had deigned to observe for the moment, hovering over the scene, was an individual who craved validation.  She would be insulted to hear it spoken aloud, but she needed to be powerful in the eyes of others, civilian or teammate.

She’s lucky she’s got such a ridiculously powerful power, then.

Or maybe there’s a causation here in one or both directions.

She could tolerate much, but an insult or a joke at her expense could push her over the edge.

So she’s… fragile.

As carrots went, a simple word of praise could satisfy her for a week, and an opportunity to shine could sate her for a month.  It was why he allowed her to ‘sing’ each time they arrived somewhere new, even as he found it repetitive and boring, brooking the same scenarios time after time.

I suppose it would get repetitive after a while, but you gotta admit it’s a really good dramatic entrance.

“Hi, we’re here, fuck you and your city!”

Her stick was easy enough: the threat of physical harm, or the embarrassment of being made to lose control.  Were she to attack a member of the group, Siberian or Crawler would retaliate, and they would hurt or kill her.  It would be inevitable, unequivocal.

Yeah, no way she’s winning against either of those, especially if she’s physically fragile on top of being emotionally so, which seems likely.

The idea of the shame she’d feel in that ignoble defeat held her back as much as anything.

Huh.

I’m beginning to see the connection between her and Hookwolf (every Slaughterhouse member went for someone with something in common with them, but it was less clear – no pun intended – between Shatterbird and Hookwolf). This is very much warlord-like behavior.

It also heavily reminds me of Armmaster, but there’s a crucial difference: Armmaster cared about how everyone else saw him. Shatterbird seems to care more about how she sees herself, something that is affected by how everyone else sees her.

Armmaster was, is, confident in his own abilities and worth and just wanted people to recognize that, while Shatterbird seems to be less confident and wants people to see her be powerful so that her worth can be reflected (oh hey, mirrors, looks like we’re back to glass again) back at her from others. She’s a fragile person who acts tough to make herself believe that she is.

Recognition versus validation.

At least that’s what I’m getting from this. For all I really know I might be totally off the mark here.

The slight hurt more than she’d expected.  It wasn’t like it was something new.  It had been going on for weeks.  And it was fully deserved.

Perhaps. I’m not gonna lie, I’m somewhat leaning towards their side, for now. I know Amy doesn’t like messing with brains, for fear of messing something up, but it might be worth at least trying. On the other hand, I completely understand that she doesn’t want to risk making it even worse.

Amy is the Spiderman of Worm. Not in terms of power, not in terms of personality, but in terms of that ancient wisdom that is oh so familiar:

With great power comes great responsibility.

The origin story of Spiderman, in every iteration I’m familiar with and probably most iterations I’m not, has always been all about Peter learning that if you’ve got the power to help, it is your duty to use it. In Interlude 3, we learned how Panacea feels bound by this – she has an amazing power that can help so many people, and with it came a sense of duty to do that as much as she possibly could, even at the expense of her own health, and the power/responsibility to make decisions on whom she should prioritize helping.

The other characters with strong connections to this theme are Taylor and Charlotte. Taylor is vocally against bystanderism, because so many people at her school, including Charlotte, had the power to open the locker and set her free, or fetch a teacher to do so, but nobody followed through on their responsibility to do so.

I think Taylor and Amy could, given circumstances forcing them to get to know each other better, relate to each other over letting this sense of duty to help someone out take over their lives and run them ragged. Amy is just a little further down this path, and more trapped by societal expectation than altruism at this point (though I don’t believe altruism has nothing to do with it). Taylor might not like Amy’s desire to quit, and Amy might not like Taylor for putting more pressure on her.

Amy: With great power comes great responsibility, which people around her expect her to fulfill regardless of what she herself wants.

Taylor: With great power comes great responsibility, which she wants to fulfill regardless of what people around her expect from her.

“We should help her,” I growled the words, “I won’t fucking sleep tonight if I walk away from this.”

Taylor is a damn good character to put in her story role of “torn between heroism and villainy” because of how strongly she has the capacity for both.

On one hand, she’s good-hearted and definitely has a heroic attitude towards saving innocents, a tendency to take it upon herself to keep everyone else from harm’s way and an unhealthily strong guilt when she can’t, even if it’s not really something she’s responsible for in the first place.

On another hand, she also has a penchant for rebelliousness and can be quite inventively cruel when it serves her needs, which she’s pretty good at convincing herself is fine, and her power is well suited for villainy.

In short, she’s an amazing representation of chaotic good in a nominally villainous role.