She can't become a magical girl presumably because she's wallowing in depression-envy, which could only be fixed by solving the gender dysphoria, which she can't do the magical girl way because of the depression-envy...
IDK if it's intentional but it mirrors having to jump through hoops to prove you're mentally well enough to make decisions, so you can get hormones that would improve your mental health.
See, what's interesting about this is at once a surprisingly apt comparison, and also missing the point in a way that loops around to conveying a whole new point in the negative space.
The emotional affirmation magical power genre at play kinda muddies the whole thing, but being an Angelic Saint isn't therapy, it's a job to fight giant monsters who try to maim people.
Temperance and Inessa push for C to join the team because it seems like it would help C emotionally and/or because they think C genuinely would be good at it, but Ida, and more pressingly, Michael, think the First Tree conflict is a burden the least amount of people should be involved in, and there are very practical reasons you don't give superpowers to someone who is very clearly unwell, especially in C's case:
"You and the gang all know who you are and what you want. You're reaching for things, growing every day, standing up for people. You've all become so amazing. And I'm just a dumb useless boy who can't do anything for himself, who doesn't have parents who care enough to help him figure out college if he can't get a scholarship he doesn't have the grades for."
I took a deep breath. My throat stung and I was half certain dad could hear us from inside. I would face consequences for that later, but that wasn't enough to stop me.
"But even if I did it's not like I have any idea where I want to go or what I want to do in the first place. So much is going wrong and it seems like the only thing I can do is to sit on the sidelines and wait to see what monster attacks me next and whether the Saints have finally gotten sick enough of it that they don't go risk themselves to rescue me. I'm powerless, and even if you offered me the world, I wouldn't even know what to ask for."
As pathetic as I felt, there were no tears. I'd learned that lesson well enough.
"So no, unless you know a way that someone useless like me could actually become, I dunno, a magical girl, then I don't think there's anything you can do for me Inessa."
Was the howling need buried deep in my chest really lust? I didn't know. Either way, Inessa didn't deserve this.
For her part, my best friend since childhood looked confused, then she smiled at me, and I found that some little part of me didn't think being upset at her was the worst of my many terrible decisions after all.
"I'm really not sure the Saints are girls only," she offered, stumbling a little of her words, "I'm sure they'd take boys, if the right one came along."
"That's not," that did nothing to fill the emptiness, "that's not the point Inessa."
I wondered what the right boy would look like. Obviously he wouldn't actually be anything like me, whatever Inessa's implied offer.
"Okay, so couldn't they join as a magical girl?" Temperance said, voicing the actual question I hadn't dared ask. I obviously wasn't worthy. But, while it had gone unsaid, there was always the possibility that I might have been. And now I would get an answer, and really there could only be one answer and the knowledge would only hurt. At the same time, it was nice to imagine that Temperance, however mistaken, might look at me and see someone who could stand with her. And, even if I knew it would only end in pain, because I wasn't good enough, a part of me remembered how free I had felt with the night winds at my back and hoped anyway.
"That's a great idea! Honestly, we really should be trying to recruit the other Saints if we want to win this, and C would be totally amazing as a teammate." Inessa leapt on Temperance's suggestion with immediate enthusiasm.
Michael stared at me. Deeply, I looked into the gemstones that served as her eyes and I saw, if only for a moment, what struck me as an unfathomably ancient kindness carrying wisdom I would never fully understand.
Then the moment passed.
"I'm sorry," Michael looked away first.
"Oh," I said, struggling to smile. If I didn't look hurt, no one was allowed to feel bad and it was silly to have wanted in the first place.
"Your desire to help is true, and you have the potential, but.." the angel considered me for a long moment as if deciding whether to say something, "you are not qualified."
I forced a laugh; though I was the only one to react that way. I wanted to run and hide and find somewhere to not cry—boys don't do that and it would have been ridiculous to cry about not getting to be a magical hero of which there were only a few exceptional people. Besides, the last time I'd run away from a well-meaning friend, it had ended pretty badly and it had barely been a few days since then. I couldn't be that pathetic, could I?
And, as I jumped so high I could steal the moon (were stealing not eir habit instead of mine), I could admit how much I longed for this. The day would never even offer me wings that I might burn myself by flying too close to the sun. But dreams would give me all the imitations I needed to glide through the night.
A noise I couldn't quite identify made its way out of my lips. Lupin's childhood was unimaginable to me, and I had no idea who she meant by 'us'. But I knew what it was like to be pushed to become an ideal you're entirely unqualified to match.
And yet, I couldn't imagine having the feeling of purpose that came through in Lupin's words, the weight she placed on her values and the way she could dedicate herself to a cause. I wondered what it would feel like to believe so much in something.
I wondered about that. I couldn't imagine what better would be like, not really. Maybe, in time, things would scar over with dad. It felt wrong to hope for that, but a part of me did anyway. But what then? Did I have a goal? A passion? Was there anything better than silly little dreams and the selfish fear of hurting others to justify existing in the end?
I envied them. And not in the passing way, I'd often admitted. Deeper than admiration or love or friendship, I envied them so much it hurt to be in their presence. We were all flawed, we all had our weaknesses. And yet, they were chosen to take the stage; to stand, to grow, to help others. Why did they get to be the kind of people who were worthy to become something more? Why did I have to remain this sad disgusting boy whose own father saw him for a worthless bug?
C spent half a month being mentally sawed at by Noir to be remolded into a Beast ('pushed to become an ideal you're entirely unqualified to match' speaks as much for Luxuria as it does being a Saint), and now more than back in January, C can't be satisfied with "Charlie the Part-Time Magical Person", anything less than a total replacement of everything weak and stupid about C would fall short, and being denied just destroys C.
Taking the stage in the role of an Angelic Saint wouldn't fix the essential problem for C, and assuming so would backfire immensely because, what happens when they win? When the Abyssal Forest is beaten and Michael either takes back the transformation bracelets or there's just nothing to use them for? C would have to find self-worth and the drive to get better independent of being an Angelic Saint anyway, and seeing that and letting that remain unresolved as you gain another fighter would be irresponsible at best.
Even Invidia Bat's advent, despite how climactic it is is just, utter self-loathing—
"We can help you." Inessa didn't ask if I'd been in control, didn't ask if I'd chosen to make monsters, to fight against the Saints. It must have seemed impossible, that poor pathetic little C would do any of those things of his own initiative.
"Let us bring you to Michael. We'll figure it out and keep you safe. I promise, we'll protect you C," I think I might have let her; if she had judged me a little, if she had looked and seen a person who wanted so badly to fall. But no, even now she was only talking at the phantom of a better friend.
Inessa never doubted me, never thought she might need to listen, never saw me as something that might not want to be protected the way I'd once offered to protect her. To her, I would always be nice, safe C: a brother, a font of moral support, a victim. She couldn't see the part of me that needed those dreams.
"I don't need protection," I said, and in saying so edged ever so much closer to making it true. "I don't deserve compassion either. Deep down, all I've ever been, all I'll ever be is the jealous bat watching from the rafters, too scared to step into the light of day. But that jealousy is my strength, my drive, my gift."
I spun in place, finding myself laughing freely. If only I'd known how good it felt to let go, to say the things you weren't allowed to feel.
Then I took a step toward Inessa and, gently as I could, shoved her away from me. "It's enough to let me pretend to be as strong and as beautiful as any of you."
I smiled at her and took a great weight off my chest. "It calls for me, and I don't want you to save me. You can't save me from my envy, from Invidia."
Something inside me writhed in joy and I found I somehow knew exactly what came next. I raised one hand and dragged it across my face. "Verdant winds of Invidia, change me!"
For one moment, I seemed to stand in a hall of envy's mirrors reflecting every inadequacy: too tall and clumsy, too ugly, too weak, too unlovable, too unmotivated. C couldn't change; couldn't be anything anyone would want to be, anyone anyone would really want to have. But envy would turn each inadequacy into a font of strength.
So what if I was too big and clumsy? I could just imitate Ida's grace. I could borrow Temperance's stature and poise. So what if I was weak? I could mimic Inessa's power and beauty. So what if I was pathetic; I could steal the bearing of a Saint.
(
—Without giving a lick of gender self-awareness—)
"Oh," I rubbed the back of my head. "Umm," on reflection, telling your friends that you, an ordinary boy, happen to have been the evil monster masquerading as a clone of your best friend from childhood who was a girl was awkward for more reasons than the whole part about beating them up a bunch.
—And even if we take C becoming a Beast as a bad decision that will lead to good decisions, in a way it kinda has to be for the entire story arc of ALV to make sense, like. It's not even
really the case Invidia Bat rampaging around on her own accord is the problem.
Because that's not what's gonna happen.
Because what C has never once thought, living the fantasy of being co-conspirators with Avaritia Wolf, them against the world, clashing against the Angelic Saints on the stage like in saturday morning cartoons, is that being a Beast? Means working for Mr. "Superbia Dragon" Noir.
I nearly tripped, trying to ignore my own heartbeat, trying to ignore the cloying scent of cinnamon that I was sure I couldn't actually smell. Temperance had been Gula; she'd known about Lupin. Had she known about Mr. Noir when he was tearing through my chest to pick apart my heart?
"Temperance," I asked eventually, hating myself for being the one to cave first of all of us. And yet, that cloying scent haunted me still. It wouldn't leave me alone until I knew.
She did not answer, but she did place her fork neatly on her tray and met my eyes, waiting. Dreading?
"Did you know Mr. Noir was…" I didn't finish the question.
Inessa and Ida stopped and turned to face Temperance, Inessa's brow crinkling in horrified realization.
"Sorry," she said carefully, "I thought he might be in the school." She paused for a moment as we stared at her in worry.
"I hadn't found him yet," she clarified belatedly, dropping the tension at the table by an order of magnitude.
Could I believe her? Did I trust Gula Shark? I shook my head. I didn't deserve to doubt her. She'd saved my life how many times? Done her best to help me figure myself out and, for all she was constantly making fun of me, always seemed to include me as if I belonged with the group in a way that even Inessa didn't quite manage.
And she'd lied.
Even now, on the brink of giving into Invidia, C is horrified and repulsed by Noir, by what he did, by the thought anyone close to C let him get close, and these thoughts don't, connect, that becoming Invidia Bat is a release, and joining the Abyssal Forest means being under Superbia's thumb right there besides Avaritia, despite thinking this just a chapter prior:
"Oh," her eyes shifted toward the floor and her smile flickered. "Yeah, parents are like that, huh. Anyway!" She turned back to me. "You can hold on to them for now, and, eventually, you'll be able to wear them. You'll find a place where you can be you."
I thought of Lupin's uncle and how Avaritia, of all people, had seemed terrified of what he might do to em for my failure to become a monster. I really had no reason to complain when that's what Lupin was probably dealing with.
"What was your childhood like?" I asked instead. I couldn't place a lot of what she said into any semblance of a normal life, but enough sounded alarming, even beyond the fact that her uncle was evil, that I found myself worrying for Lupin.
Like, that's what it always comes back to, "Cool Motive, Still Being Led By An Abusive Egomaniac", unless Invidia immediately flaps out of dodge the moment Avaritia tries to bring eir bestie back to homebase, C's gonna be under the roof of a petty, controlling authority figure right after leaving the FIRST one.
Honestly I'd pay good money to see Flaps Out Of Dodge The Moment The Werewolf Thinks Ey Can Get You Back Into Asshole Castle, but if we could expect C to make good decisions the instant after making terrible ones, we'd be reading an entirely different story.
Legitimately expect C and Lupin's dynamic to take a sharp angle from the Max Level You're The Only One Who Gets Me In The World Buddies staying pattern it's been edging towards, because like. Avaritia has never interacted with C having full awareness of their situations and the ability to actually have a conversation simultaneously:
I froze, "Just because they're both 'greedy' goths who…" I trailed off as once again the perception filter broke and I could suddenly put together how blindingly obvious that was.
"Oh," I said, without a clue how to process this.
A dark light pulsed at my— or rather Lupin's— feet before surrounding the both of us. When it cleared, I was unchanged, but the fingers around my neck had been replaced by familiar claws.
"Right! Not a step closer, or your little friend gets it."
Begrudgingly, Castitas lowered her bow, Avaritia took a moment to whisper once more in my ear, "Great, just keep playing along and you'll be fine."
I wanted to do something. I didn't know Lupin half as well as I knew Temperance or Ida, much less Inessa, but I was finally starting to like em as a person and now ey was the person who'd held me captive, who'd kidnapped me, who'd tried to turn me into a monster. Ey owed me an explanation.
Tonight Avaritia didn't fight. Ey knew, for all we couldn't talk, that I needed to fight alone, even if it broke me. So I fought and sang until there was nothing left to scream and I pushed them to the brink. Only then did I let them rout me into my partner's comforting arms.
The battle was lost, but the night remained ours. I couldn't understand eir words, but Avaritia's grin as ey lead me through the dark told it had only just begun.
And uh. They kinda disagree on things.
Avaritia glared, flexing eir claws as ey strafed away from me slowly, "I'm not throwing away my morals! I'm saying that shaming someone who's lost everything else for being greedy doesn't help if that's the only thing keeping them going! When you can't be the perfect little angel everyone just loves, you need wrath to stand up for yourself, envy to let you see how much you need the things you don't get."
Castitas put her hands on her hips and shook her head, "But think about how much you're taking from others! If you're in trouble, we can help! You can lean on us! You don't need to be greedy to be happy."
Avaritia snorted, angrier than I'd seen em since ey thought I was a pervert that one time ey kidnapped me.
"Look at C!" ey gestured dramatically, "How long have they been trying to be good, and are they any happier? C's nice, kind, humble and full of patience, and that makes them miserable. They can't figure out what they want even when all of it is so obvious because the world won't let them want in the first place!"
"Thanks, I love being used as a rhetorical point." I shouted back as I struggled to my feet. I should have been terrified, but it was oddly hard to be scared of Lupin, even if ey was Avaritia.
"Shut up C, you know I'm right!" Lupin stuck eir tongue out, but eir eyes didn't leave Castitas.
I dreamed of soaring through the sky, of being selfish enough to shout, to lay all my problems at everyone else's feet and lay claim to all the strength and beauty I didn't deserve and wasn't allowed to want. In dreams, the night air was more than a silent offer, it was a constant companion, as reliable as my wolf. In dreams I was not alone. In dreams I could abandon past and future and just exist in one moment of adrenaline to the next.
I could steal Inessa's fire and throw it at Temperance for daring to put all these thoughts in my head about what I could never be, and for being all those things and having the world itself acknowledge her.
I could break Ida's balance with jets of water for daring to keep trying until she made it. A bit of shattered glass wouldn't have broken her resolve. It wouldn't have happened to her anyway. She was tough and strong and good and any of her anxieties rang hollow to my ears. And of course that wasn't true, and of course I wasn't allowed to even think such thoughts. But I was dreaming, and no one could blame you for being petty in a dream.
I could bury Inessa in a wave of disrupted earth for daring to have the courage to face herself; for being beautiful both inside and out when all I could manage in a dream was a pitiful mockery of the former. I could crush her here for having a family that wouldn't stop caring, that would accept a useless shell of a boy into their home just because he was hurting.
Mostly, I tried to crush her for managing to be the kind of person who was able to keep loving me when I didn't deserve it.
Of course they fought back; they pushed, and refused to bow to the dark. No matter how high above them silent wings bore me through the night, they still sent me tumbling back to earth. The pain too was good.
Big Things.
Like, what keeps coming up, is that Avaritia really, truly believes in the endgoal of the Abyssal Forest. Ey think they'll make the world a better place.
C thinks they'll lose. That they
should lose.
This isn't any kind of ideological shift, for C, this is just openly self-destructive imitation, clinging to what C could never have by opposing it, playing Luigi even though you're seething about how much you wanted to play Mario in Mario Kart.
Avaritia is gonna have to convince Invidia they're the good guys to be satisfied and. I don't think ey'll manage.
Because, ultimately, being a Beast is a job to make giant monsters who try to maim people.
No one knows how Michael managed to get her set up with an apartment or put her in the school system, but most acknowledge that both seem to have happened without difficulty is, at least, a tiny bit worrisome...
Michael: What's a little document forgery between friends? Or in the name of the Lord?
So there it is. Michael can probably forge medical prescriptions for HRT.
I actually do love Michael.
Stupid Jesus Powered Plushie who answers to Women Protection before federal offenses.