The team arrives at the city of Omashu. Later it will become clear that they’re only here for Aang to have fun on his way to the North Pole. They have no other agenda at this point.
TWO
Aang knows he wants to stop at Omashu because he’s been here before. His friend, Bumi, lived here. More memories come later, but this is the introduction of a character critical to the episode and to the Eight. Trouble.
THREE
The arrow tattoos will be recognized, so Aang must wear a disguise. Using Appa’s itchy fur, the team crafts a wig and mustache that turn Aang into an old man.
He’s a young man in our fishing village. I think he’s supposed to be sympathetic because of his yearning to explore. However, he ends up crashed out on the ground, depleted, in a rather pitiful display of ineptitude.
First he’s outside the village gates, nearby at the shore. After, he’s down the lane outside of the Encampment. Finally, he’s inside the Witchwood, barely across the threshold. Each time he says, “Sorry,” and then goes even further. It’s a very unheroic journey.
We chase him around, though, because it’s worth it later. We’re not done with Valmiro, the lad with a drop-shoulder peasant shirt and a fishing pole.
He’s not an Envy person, that’s for sure. Darcy would drive him crazy if he were. And he’s quite content to take advice from Darcy, sometimes without engaging his own feelings or thoughts.
He’s the most easygoing person on the planet. As Mr. Bennet says to Jane, “You are each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will always exceed your income.”
So, who is this pleasant, placid man? Head Type or Body?
He really isn’t a thinker in the mold of a Five or Six. Seven, possibly. He has no consciousness of money, obviously, so he’s no One. Not an Eight! Oh, that’s funny. I’d like to see some version of Bingley who tells Darcy to stuff it, but that wouldn’t be Austen.
His ability to avoid conflict leads me toward Nine. His willingness to party leads me toward Seven. Heh.
His modesty is of no help whatsoever. In some ways it keeps him from having a defining personality trait. He doesn’t break forward with a fault or a strength. He’s just the nice lad who goes where he’s told.
Nine. Although a Seven can blow with the wind, they also seek new experiences. Bingley has no appetite for grand adventure. A quiet life and amiable friends are enough to satisfy.
She’s so modest she damages her own prospects, or at least according to Charlotte Lucas. She’s handsome enough to win Darcy’s opprobrium and too beautiful for even Caroline Bingley to feel jealousy. When her heart is broken she rallies herself by keeping busy and thinking well of others.
What Enneagram number is a saint?
Just kidding. We can all be saints! Jane, though, is truly good. Is that a character trait that points to a number?
Well, not a Body Type. Exercise is not something she seeks. Of course she’s Heart, the best kind of Heart. Her empathy for others seems like it must indicate a Heart Type. She’s a thinking person, but she’s not a Head Type.
She’s a Two. Women Two, such as (probably) Marilyn Monroe, have a sweetness that make them beautiful beyond their physical blessings. She seems almost inhuman, but then her vulnerability comes through. Bingley has hurt Jane deeply, but she keeps it inside. A Two should move to Four in strength and ask for some of what’s due her. She won’t, though.
If she’d been more forward, more demonstrative, when she first met Bingley he might have proposed then. We’d lose an entire plot line if that happened, though! Austen has created the perfect Jane: a generous person who thinks the best of everyone while completely not thinking of herself. Two.
We’re wandering. I have a portcrystal, something I can drop at almost any location I find on the map, and thereafter I can fast travel to it. If I want I can pick it up and use it elsewhere. These things are the BEST.
On the town notice board are escort quests. Someone wants to go somewhere, usually someplace dangerously far away. The easiest way to do these quests is to have gone there by ourselves already and drop a portcrystal. Boom — take the quest, greet the traveller, zip to the location, and clock the completion.
This is why we’re wandering. I know that Quina will have an escort quest, and I know her travel isn’t random like most of these quests are. I’m headed to the Abbey to drop my purple stone.
Quina’s already there, dressed in nun robes. Dangit. Her escort request would’ve been on the village notice board, and I didn’t check there. At least, that’s what I think. We’ve missed whatever she would’ve said about her reasons to go to the Abbey.
Sorry.
She gives a “tee-hee” and says everyone’s talking about the Arisen.
Now that it’s too late for Quina, I go to the village. Valmiro, a local fishing lad, is missing. He is prone to mad quests, apparently, and we’re to find him.
Also, one last little surprise: as I manage inventory at the inn, Pablos chats about Gran Soren guards and how drunk they are. If the dragon brings trouble, he would “sooner turn to sisters of The Faith for protection”. Quina’s Abbey quest takes on more meaning. She’s in the robes, right? She’s become a postulate of some sort.
This game can be very particular about timing and order of quests. I’m sure it won’t be the first story moment I miss.
I’ve dropped a new album (so far with only one track). Based on Pride and Prejudice, the concept is for each track to be a moment from the novel. The next track is being recorded now!
The French narrator establishes Mrs. Puff’s Boating School. Fish students drool and sleep while Spongebob takes diligent notes.
TWO
But, wait. It’s time to pick the Hall Monitor of the day. Spongebob looks up with wide eyes.
THREE
Mrs. Puff looks over her checklist. With a mark next to nearly every name, only one student hasn’t been Hall Monitor. Haha, you know whose name remains.
We go into the fahncy part of town. Ser Maximilian, Captain of the Wyrm Hunt is ready to show us four possible quests. I just grab the first in the list: Decipher a Text. He hands me a slate with old writing. Only a couple of words are understandable. “Arisen” is in there, as is “heart”. It’s obviously about us. We’re to run around town and ask for more info.
I should immediately admit that I’m sympathetic to Charlotte. Elizabeth hates her pragmatism when it comes to love and marriage. I kind of respect Charlotte’s reasoned and harsh perspective.
Of course, she’s stuck with Collins, which is an ill fate. But, her parents! She’s a financial burden with no prospects. God, I really admire her grit.
So, what Enneagram number is so unromantic? Well, a One. A Seven. Possibly a Three. An Eight. Is Charlotte a Body Type?
She’s a Seven! Wow, I’m wonderfully surprised. Like Collins, every portrayal of her has been a different number than what she is. Imagine a Seven, the Enneagram number most associated with hedonism, as an undesirable, unmarriageable Regency woman. What a lot of possibilities for character portrayal!
She and Elizabeth have that Head Type connection as the basis of their friendship.
Seven Women are so practical, so efficient. This is how Charlotte can marry someone she can’t respect and yet live a good life. The house is segregated by Charlotte into her private parlor and his garden and office. It’s not personal, it’s business. (Charlotte would make a great mafia don.)
Yes, some aspects of her life are sub-optimal, but look at the positives. She runs her own household and she likes it. Her position and income (her nest) are secure. When she has children they will be safe and healthy.
It’s utterly unromantic, but it’s not the worst. Like I said, I don’t condemn her. Charlotte’s a boss.
Although I love the screen portrayals of Mr. Collins, I’m interested that in the novel he’s described as tall and more physically present. He’s not diminutive. The kind of cringy or bantam-like behavior I associate with him all come from the actors.
He’s always obsequious, of course. The little attentions to the ladies, studied and prepared, is one of his ridiculous traits.
Let’s take Austen’s description as an Enneagram indicator, though. Forget about the actors. Collins is large. My first instincts — a One or a Six — are not correct. If he’s athletic, he’s a Nine. If not, he’s a Two. And he’s not athletic, regardless of how often Charlotte encourages him to enjoy his garden.
I would dearly love to see a production of P&P that casts Mr. Collins as a large Two. How does his character change? That mix of empathy and envy, how does it play out? When he comes to the Bennets after Lydia’s fall — always a scene that doesn’t quite work — how does it play if he’s a Two moving to Eight (weakness) at that moment? Or perhaps he’s a Two moving to Four (strength), looking out for himself and his own? Right now he’s portrayed as a judgmental placeholder, a mouthpiece for Lady Catherine. What if he expresses his own interests in that scene? Ooh, so exciting!
Isn’t that funny? Collins is beloved. I clap when I see him ooze onto the screen. But they’ve all been playing him wrong, and it’s deeply thrilling to imagine a production that gets him right. He doesn’t collect musical instruments or obscure tools, he collects Lady Catherine’s advice. Her attentions are the objects this Man Two places on his hobby shelf. It’s absolutely delightful.
