Mastodawn

Reshaping Reality Jun 30, 2025

Clair Obscur: To be accountable to those that come after

CROSSPOST FROM COMRADERY. Part of a three part series: Disability (part 1), Right to Exist (part 2), and Accountability and Healing (part 3).

In my prior essays, I related themes woven through Clair Obscur to show how it can parallel real world complexities and oppression.

For the character of Alicia and Gustave (and even Lune if we accept my assertion of her as neurodivergent), disability cords through the story and asks questions the game may not have intended. I explored in that essay how Disability was a class constructed by capitalism to control labor and those unable to labor, and through that I showed how disability has been used to denote evil and bad throughout American history. But Clair Obscur twists those tropes on their head and refuses to villianize the disabled within the game. Instead, Alicia, Gustave, and others are given complex journeys and heralded as heroes in a way. Yet, by the end, the final ending choice between Verso and Maelle felt as if the player was the judge determining the fate of the disabled person for them. I wrote:

Will we be given the care and support we need to thrive? Will we be given agency to choose our own fate and route to healing?

Clair Obscur offers that choice to the player, thus placing the fate of a disabled person in their hands. In a way, the player acts as the judge who determines the fate of a disabled person, to determine whether they ever access the care and benefits they need. It is a replica of how our real world works, and it forces a painful glimpse into the struggles of disabled people.

This essay led me to my next where I explored the nature of the Canvas people and whether they are real. I examined how this paralleled dehumanizing narratives that subjugate and destroy unique cultures. I laid down a map of the shifting temporal realities the game presents through the different main characters of each act: Gustave (Lumierian reality), Verso (immortal painted Dessendre reality), and Maelle (both Dessendre reality and Lumierian reality). How weaving these different realities forces us to contend with the nature of what is real and who is allowed to exist within that reality.

The conclusion I came to, which perhaps will not surprise anyone reading my writings, is that I chose the ending that gave agency to people and saved the most lives. I could not accept that the unique lives of those in the Canvas were less than the Dessendre family. Nor could I accept anyone deciding for a disabled person how they must exist and heal.

By exploring these darker aspects of Clair Obscur, I undoubtedly focused on the more abusive and manipulative aspects of the Dessendre family to show how unsupportive they’ve been to Alicia/Maelle. The evidence painted within the game left me uneasy about the Dessendre family, partly informed by my own traumas as a queer nonbinary disabled person. Yes, they do love each other but love does not mean abuse cannot happen or exist, which I argued in my essay on Disability. That darkness echoed trauma and pain that destroying the Canvas cannot truly heal. A cycle of violence doesn’t heal through the use of more violence, but only when the cycle is stopped.

One could argue that Verso sought to stop the cycle of grief, and isn’t that stopping the cycle of violence? But that negates the temporal reality of the Canvas people, who endured countless oppressive actions and outright genocide. Sacrificing a population of people in an effort to ‘heal’ one family only continues the cycle of violence, and it doesn’t solve the lack of support in the Dessendre world, which Verso’s ending never truly reconciles. Alicia is still isolated, still without a voice, still disabled in a world that has done little to meet any of her needs.

So then, do we ever exit the cycle of violence? And what would it look like to attempt such a thing?

In my Disability essay, I pointed out healing cannot begin until we exit the abusive/traumatic environment/situation. Part of healing involves the end of the cycle of violence, which differs based on who abused and who endured the abuse. Those that abuse must hold themselves accountable and engage in repair as well as work on their own healing. Those that endured abuse must work on their own healing, and recognize the best place for that, which might require them to not engage again the person who harmed them. Ending the cycle of violence and moving toward accountability and healing is not an easy process and the trajectory will differ based on who is involved.

Yet even with those differing paths, one must still hold oneself accountable in order to push forward in the healing process. We will backslide. We will mess up, but it is crucial to acknowledge when we cause harm or when we make a mistake, apologize, and do better. That’s all part of the accountability process.

So in this essay, I want to explore what accountability is and how it does and doesn’t manifest in the characters’ storylines. Whether the characters were able to truly end the cycle of violence and move forward into healing or if the game leaves those questions open-ended.

What is Accountability? And how do we do it?

Accountability within today’s culture, especially within America where I’m situated, is wrought with videos and images of call-out culture. Where people call others out publically the harm and demand repair. While this may be a useful tactic when facing off against the rich and powerful, it ultimately isn’t true accountability. Or at least not the kind that may lead to actual healing and change.

So when I speak of accountability, I do not mean that public spectacle. I instead mean conversations like what Maelle and Verso have in Clair Obscur. They happen on a personal level and/or within the community, and often are not on a public stage. They may instead happen behind closed doors with or without a mediator. The survivor may decide or not decide to be present, while the person who harmed them works toward healing and accountability. It’s a complex process that goes far, far beyond the initial identification of the harm.

In the first chapter of the anthology Beyond Suvival: Strategies and Stories from the Transformative Justice Movement, editors Ejeris Dixon and Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha writes:

“Transformative justice and community accountability are terms that describe ways to address violence without relying on police or prisons. These approaches often work to prevent violence, to intervene when harm is occurring, to hold people accountable, and to transform individuals and society to build safer communities. These strategies are some of hte only options that marginalized communities have to address harm.

The work of transformative justice can happen in a variety of ways. Some groups support survivors by helping them identify their needs and boundaries while ensuring their attackers agree to these boundaries and atone for the harm they caused. Other groups create safe spaces and sanctuaries to support people escaping from violence.”

Here they show how accountability is only one piece of a larger puzzle of addressing violence. Without accountability, much of the work to address and end the cycle of violence would fracture and fall apart, yet as crucial as it is, full healing requires far more than just accountability.

Ejeris Dixon goes on to add:

“Violence and oppression break community ties and breed fear and distrust. At its core, the work to create safety is to build meaningful, accountable relationships within our neighborhoods and communities.”

Without trust, one cannot build safety. Without safety, one struggles to be vulnerable. Without vulnerability, one struggles to heal. And without the choice to heal, one will fail to hold oneself accountable.

This isn’t to say these are steps in a process, but more they are interlinking threads that are woven into a larger tapestry. Each thread crucial to the final form, and the tapestry wouldn’t be the same without each thread and stitch. None of this is easy, but then healing isn’t ever easy.

Healing always requires a choice. Do we choose to heal? Do we choose to hold ourselves accountable to that journey? Do we choose to be accountable for our actions and engage in repair when we inevitably cause harm? How do we engage in repair? Are we willing to be responsible and listen to those harmed by us? To let those harmed take the lead? Can we separate shame from guilt? To not fear accountability but instead embrace it so all involved can move forward in healing?

Of course, asking those questions can feel daunting, and it’s why relationship-building is so crucial. Healing requires support of one’s family, friends, and/or community. We can’t really heal in isolation. In chapter three of Beyond Survival, Blythe Barnow speaks about how isolation harmed her ability to heal:

“In the end, that was the most damaging. Doing it alone. Believing it was all my responsibility. Not the assault. But the healing. The justice. The protection for nameless other girls. I leaned heavy into the skills I learned as a child, over responsibility, independence, sharp analysis, and self-sacrifice. Which meant I never asked for the support I was so desperate for.

Because what I needed, maybe more than his apology, was a community of people who could help me hold and honor the stories that led to this one, who could help me uproot the layers of silence learned through too much violence. I needed to be asked what I wanted and what I was hoping for. I needed someone to help me craft those letters, someone to remind me that I could list expectations. I needed someone who was going to sit with me through the fallout. Someone who could read the responses people sent me and tell me to wait before reading them myself. I needed someone beside me to reflect the ways my own trauma, old and new, was informing the process. I needed someone who could show me love that was deeper and more nuanced than just hating him.”

I relate deeply to Barnow’s words here because isolation can steal away our voice, where we put on a brave mask for others. Often society and even friends and family can put tremendous pressure on survivors to ‘move on’ from the harm, to not speak of it, to stay silent, but that too is part of the cycle of violence. If we cannot acknowledge violence happened, how can we ever stop it from replaying again and again? Many therapists and researchers have written of the cycle of domestic violence and how it can sometimes thread through families. Part of that relies on silence and isolation.

Breaking silence and isolation requires the support of others, and it’s not easy to do. Believe me, I’ve struggled with this my whole life, but I’ve made progress on my healing from abuse because of the support of dear friends and good therapists.

This is why Maelle and Verso are able to have any conversation that deals with accountability. Lune, Sciel, Esquie, and Monoco form a support system to help them break the cycle of silence and isolation. This chosen family gives Maelle the love she needs to learn and grow, and they attempt to offer this to Verso as well.

For example, exploring the Reacher area will lead to the peak, where Painted Alicia ignores her brother to speak with Maelle privately — here the color fades into greyscale. She leads Maelle into the cavern at the peak to show her the true axon, and also to express her thoughts to Maelle through gestures and their fencing match.

After Painted Alicia leads Maelle back to the others, the scene snaps back into color. Maelle offers Alicia “a new beginning,” and I think she meant to repaint Alicia’s face and restore her voice. However, Painted Alicia grasps Maelle’s hand and presses it against her, thus thwarting Maelle’s attempt to repaint her face. Instead, she gasps out her desire for Maelle to gommage her. Verso doesn’t have a chance to stop it, because Maelle does as Painted Alicia asks.

Verso responds by trying to stop Maelle, and ends up holding the red petal remains of Painted Alicia. Sciel is at his side to comfort him in his grief.

The conversation they have later at camp delves into the impact of Maelle’s act:

MAELLE: I’m sorry.
VERSO: …
MAELLE: It’s what she wanted. I owed her that much. We owed her that much. I honoured her wishes. That’s something neither you nor Renoir ever did. And not Maman either.
VERSO: … I didn’t get to say goodbye. You didn’t wait. You didn’t give me a chance to persuade her.
MAELLE: She knew what she wanted. You wouldn’t have been able to sway her.
VERSO: She’s not you. You don’t know that. I know her better than you do. But you didn’t even give me the chance to try. You just erased her.
MAELLE: Verso…
VERSO: You’ve lost two brothers. You know what it’s like to lose your sibling and never get the chance to say goodbye.
MAELLE: …
VERSO: You Painters. You just do what you want, you don’t care how it affects the rest of us.
MAELLE: I do care. I know you’re hurting, but the person who made that decision wasn’t me. It was her. It would have been wrong to deny her just so you could try and talk her out of her decision.

Here Maelle seeks to understand Verso and why he is upset. She wants him to understand her reasons, where she sought to honor Painted Alicia’s wishes. She argues here for Painted Alicia’s agency in this, and how taking away her agency wouldn’t have been right.

Verso lashes out because of his grief and pain, but his words here “you don’t care how it affects the rest of us,” doesn’t align with the truth of Painted Alicia and Maelle’s actions at the peak of Reacher. Painted Alicia had made her wishes known, where she did not wish to continue in the disabled body Aline had given her in punishment for an action she’d never done. Perhaps there could have been other ways for her to thrive, but Painted Alicia had tried for decades to find that. Yet, perhaps it is irony that she sought the same annihilation that Painted Verso secretly seeks.

Maelle tries, in her own way, to honor the agency of others. To offer them different solutions, but Painted Alicia didn’t want any other solution. She had taken Maelle’s hand to press against her and urged her to gommage her away.

Does Maelle come to understand what Verso is trying to articulate here? Because so far, she gives her reasons and argues for Painted Alicia’s agency. The scene continues:

VERSO: She’s the last of my family. I have no one left now.
MAELLE: You have me. You have us.
VERSO: MAELLE. I wasn’t ready.
MAELLE: I don’t understand. You were ready when you set Papa free. You expected that he would erase the Canvas and everyone in it. Isn’t that the same thing?
VERSO: It’s different! It’s different. Why did she do that?
MAELLE: You know why.
VERSO: …
MAELLE: But you’re right. I should have thought of you. I should have given you a chance to say goodbye. I’m truly sorry, Verso.
VERSO: … *cries* At least she’s free now.

Maelle briefly gets defensive because she struggles to understand, but then she takes a moment to think. She may view the two events of setting Renoir free to erase everyone versus her honoring Alicia’s wishes to be erased as equivalent, but Verso does not. We then see Maelle hold herself accountable by putting herself in Verso’s shoes in an effort to understand. She admits that Verso is indeed right. She should have thought of him, and she apologizes. As one continues through the journey, Maelle does her best to honor this by doing better.

She also tries to show Verso that he does have people left. He has Maelle, Lune, Sciel, Monoco, and others as they all have been trying to reach out and build connections with him. He chooses to hold himself in isolation from them, whether he is conscious of it or not.

She actively does her best to hold herself accountable, to learn from her actions, and this shows how she wishes to end the cycle of harm. She wants everyone’s agency to be honored, for people to find what they need, and although she may offer different ways to do that, if the person ultimately rejects a solution, who is Maelle to refuse to honor their decision? For a sixteen-year-old, she’s remarkably mature here.

Verso, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to hold that same self-awareness, or if he did, he seems to have lost it. He’s so caught up in his cycle of violence, that he struggles to see any other solution as viable. To see this, let’s look at a conversation near the start of Act 3, when Maelle returns to the Canvas:

MAELLE: You should have helped me remember.
VERSO: Yeah… I wanted to, but I… I’m sorry.
MAELLE: I’m sorry too. If I’d listened to Maman… if I hadn’t trusted the Writers, Verso would still be alive, and you —
VERSO: Wouldn’t exist.
MAELLE: Wouldn’t be caught in the middle. Maman did a terrible thing, painting you into Verso’s Canvas. Giving you his memories. Pretending the fire only took me. But I’m glad you exist.
VERSO: Your father was right to erase everyone. It’s better this way.
MAELLE: Better for who? Verso would have never wanted his Canvas gone. He loved Esquie and his Gestrals and the Grandis.
VERSO: It was killing my … our mother, staying here so long in a make-believe world with her make-believe family.
MAELLE: It’s not make-believe. It’s not… you’re not.. To me…

Here Verso sees only one solution: annihilation. However, his reasons for why he manipulated and lied to Maelle are just that — excuses. So he acknowledges the hurt he did and apologizes. For true accountability to happen, it’s not enough to simply apologize; one’s present and future behaviors will need changed to avoid replicating the harm and continuing the cycle of violence.

For Maelle, she also apologizes, but in this instance, what is there for her to apologize for? Perhaps she shouldn’t have trusted whoever the Writers were, but she is not responsible for them starting a fire and for Verso’s death. Maelle is only responsible for her own actions, not the actions of others. This shows how she’s internalized the shame and guilt Clea and Aline both shoved onto her; both needed someone to blame, and Alicia, the survivor, is a convenient person to lay down the blame. Maelle/Alicia is young and lacking the support to realize that she does not need to carry this blame as it is not hers to bear.

Painted Verso does not try to negate the blame Maelle/Alicia puts on herself. Instead, he tries to convince Maelle that it is better for those in the Canvas to not exist, for the Canvas to be destroyed, but Maelle refuses to accept that destruction of entire people’s is the right answer. She disagrees that everyone in the Canvas is make-believe. To her they are as real as herself. This ties into what I discussed in my Right to Exist essay.

I wrote there:

We have now returned to one of the most crucial questions in the game: What is the right decision in regards to the fate of the Canvas people and the fate of Alicia/Maelle? As I have hopefully shown thus far, erasing people’s temporal realities causes immense harm and is genocide; people have a right to exist, and sacrificing them for the ‘greater good of society’ (or in this case the Dessendre family) cannot ever be the morally right answer.

Necrosecurity, as I spoke of earlier, paints a bleak and death-filled reality, where healing cannot ever take place because denial and control is at its roots. [Defined as sacrificing a population for the greater ‘good’ of society.] Until people’s temporal realities are respected and their agency honored, healing will forever stay out of reach.

Thus, escaping pain by committing genocide is not healing. It’s a continuation of the cycle of violence. The marginalized populations facing genocide have a right to exist, and their temporal realities are as valid and important as the oppressor. Just as the temporal reality of the Canvas people are as valid and important as the Dessendre family.

Healing can only happen when the cycle of violence ends.

Verso tries to justify the death and destruction as necessary to end the cycle, but Maelle refuses to accept that reasoning. She believes Verso is wrong when he claims his self and those of the Canvas people are make-believe, and she believes they have a right to exist. She acknowledges harm happened to Painted Verso. She apologizes for her part in it. This is a step forward in the addressing of harm and ending the cycle: acknowledging what happened and why it wasn’t okay.

Again, Maelle cannot repair what her mother did because it’s not her burden to bear. Only Aline can take responsibility for her own actions. Maelle can only take responsibility for Maelle’s actions, which Maelle tries her best to do. She tries to hold herself accountable, which is something neither Clea nor Aline ever seem to do. This act of being accountable seems to have been taught to Maelle perhaps by Renoir, but far more likely it was Gustave, Lune, Sciel, and the Lumierians who taught her this.

She may have regained her memories from the real world, but that doesn’t mean she lost her memories of growing up as a Lumierian. She holds both in her head, as she will admit to Lune and Sciel after she brings them back:

MAELLE: I’m sorry. I didn’t — My memories — I would’ve told you if I’d known —
LUNE: Don’t apologize. You were trapped too. You lived among us. You’re one of us. Even if you’re also one of them.
MAELLE: It’s… so weird. I have memories of two childhoods. Two homes. Two Lumieres.
SCIEL: You’re not an orphan anymore. You just found your family. Don’t you want to be with them?
MAELLE: I love my family, but … they’re all gone. In one way of another. And you’re my family too. So are Gustave and Emma. And I didn’t see it at the time, but all the families who took turns taking care of me…

Here Maelle, once again, tries to take on burdens that aren’t hers to hold. She had no memory of being a Paintress, so how could she have told them? Lune understands this and gently points this out to her. To root her in the facts of what they now know. She accepts who Maelle is — Maelle’s full self of being of Lune’s Lumiere but also of the Dessendre’s Lumiere — and provides comfort in this way.

Sciel, in turn, asks a crucial question, even though her voice aches with grief. “Don’t you want to be with them?”

Maelle’s answer is heart-rending, because truthfully, her family is gone. Clea is off fighting a one-person war with the Writers, Aline — Maelle’s mother — blames Maelle and casts her aside, Renoir may seek to bring Maelle back but he too has been neglectful of her, and Verso is gone. So what roots her in the Dessendre World? There she is disabled with no support system and half the family is abusive toward her (as I discuss in my Disability essay). So in a way, her Dessendre family is “gone” in the sense they do not truly support her, not like the Canvas Lumierians.

When Maelle blames herself for those that have harmed her or those she loved, she exhibits a common traumatic response; when she apologizes for actions that aren’t truly hers to own, that is also a traumatic response.

I know I’ve fallen into those trauma responses, where I had internalized the blame that it was my fault for the abuse done to me, my fault for the sexual assault. However, that blame is false. In reality, it wasn’t my fault as I did not do those actions. Those actions were done by other people to me. Just as Maelle did not paint Painted Verso, Aline did that. Just as Maelle didn’t start the fire, the Writers did that. Just as Maelle didn’t kill Verso, the fire and whoever started the fire did that. Just as Maelle didn’t lie to Lune and Sciel, she had no memories of her Dessendre life and thus no information to share; instead, Verso had that information and chose to not share it.

Maelle still tries to take accountability, but truthfully, it is not hers to bear. Lune gently teaches her that in that scene above.

Understanding these truths are hard when society and/or loved ones pressure us into thinking it’s our fault we were hurt. That’s just a falsehood to avoid accountability and to pressure survivors into silence, which effectively continues the cycle of violence.

To break out of that cycle, we must acknowledge that we are only responsible for our own actions and speech. Then we must separate out shame and guilt. We must choose to heal and continue toward healing no matter how hard that trajectory may become. But to even make that choice requires us to have support of others, to help us see when we are falling back into harmful thought processes that inhibit our ability to heal. Those that support us help us stay accountable to the process of healing.

Lune and Sciel both act as supporters for Maelle here. Lune, especially as she has also been hurt by Verso’s actions, seeks to hold Verso accountable. At this point in the game, Lune acts as a protective older sister to Maelle, while Sciel often falls into a motherly role. That’s part of how chosen families relate to one another — they fall into roles with one another, and those roles may change depending on the situation. Sometimes Maelle may be the more sisterly one to offer support to Lune or Sciel.

Chosen family can be a powerful support group and a crucial one, especially if one’s biological family has been abusive toward us. In the case of Maelle, some of her family members have been abusive toward her. So her chosen family provides the support for Maelle to work toward healing from that.

So what about Painted Verso? How does he hold himself accountable after this massive reveal? He hid the truth of who Maelle was from not only Maelle but everyone in the party. He manipulated them toward his end-goals. He chooses to talk to each individually, which the player can choose which character to start these conversations (or could choose to avoid them). If the player chooses to have these conversations, then how do they go?

Lune calls Painted Verso out for his lies:

LUNE: I was right not to trust you.
VERSO: And what would you have done in my position?
LUNE: I wouldn’t have betrayed my expedition. I would have warned them that everyone they cared about was about to be erased. That THEY were about to be erased. I would have told them the truth. Because after everything we’ve been through, we deserved that.
VERSO: So you’d choose your expedition over your mother?
LUNE: That’s your problem. You think in false dichotomies. It wasn’t an “either / or” a situation. Other solutions were possible, if you’d only trusted us enough to ask.
VERSO: Knowing what you know now, would you have helped me force my mother out of the Canvas?
LUNE: … *sighs*
VERSO: I don’t apologize for saving her. But I am sorry I broke your trust. And I will do everything I can to help bring everyone back.
LUNE: I guess we’ll see.

Here Verso is intent on his reasons for his lies and manipulations. Lune, of course, points to the faults in his argument, because there might have been more solutions possible. Verso’s response is to put Lune on the spot, which when it comes to intense conversations like this? It’s very hard to consider alternatives when one is upset, so of course Lune couldn’t respond right away. She takes her time deliberating and analyzing possible solutions. Put her on the spot? And she falls quiet because she has not been given adequate time to process the information and analyze for other solutions. So Verso acts rather unfairly toward her, and then makes a promise to win back her trust.

For Sciel, she processes her anger and hurt differently. She may have chosen to ‘get over’ her anger, but the hurt in her voice betrays how she feels. She tries to keep her tone light, but the desperate hope still slips through. Their conversation ends with her saying:

SCIEL: As long as you help me bring Pierre back. You owe me.
VERSO: You got it.

Once again, he makes a promise. Yet, his conversation with Maelle shows he may not honor the promise to Lune and Sciel:

MAELLE: We have to push Papa out of the Canvas before he erases everything.
VERSO: I’m surprised he hasn’t already.
MAELLE: He’s been weakened by his battle with Maman. That’s probably why he hasn’t come after us. But it won’t stop him for long.
VERSO: If you and your father keep fighting, you risk breaking the world again. Another Fracture, but this time, it might be you trapped inside the Monolith.
MAELLE: What’s the alternative?
VERSO: Maybe… maybe you should go home.
MAELLE: Verso…
VERSO: You’re fighting each other but you’re all doing the same thing.
MAELLE: No.
VERSO: Aline wants her son back. Renoir wants you and Aline back. You want Gustave back. The cycle we needed to break wasn’t the Gommage. It’s your family’s cycle of grief.
MAELLE: …
VERSO: Our whole world carries the burden of your family’s grief.

Although there is truth that the Canvas world carries the burden of the Dessendre’s family’s grief, he makes an assumption about Maelle’s motivations. Yes, Maelle may want Gustave back, but she earlier clarified that she doesn’t believe Painted Verso nor the Canvas people are ‘make-believe.’ She views them as real, and she refuses to let people die simply because her father decided they were a threat. So his assertion that it’s her continuing the cycle fails to understand the complexity in her motivations.

Instead, Verso tries to argue again why Maelle should leave the Canvas, but if she does, that means Renoir will finish erasing the Canvas and Lune and Sciel will never see their friends and family again. In fact, Lune and Sciel will cease to exist too. This conversation reveals that Verso is simply telling Lune and Sciel what they want to hear so that they can aid him in his goals. He isn’t holding himself accountable here. He’s manipulating everyone to push them toward the end-goal that he’s decided is best.

In doing this, he shows a lack of ability to understand and learn from the hurt and pain he’s done to others. He’s not really listening to them because he’s mapped out ways to carefully push each person into the actions he needs for his own goals. Thus, he’s continuing the cycle of violence.

Maelle has made it clear she wants the cycle of violence to end. She wants to save the Canvas people, because she believes they have a right to exist, that they are not ‘make-believe’ but real. Yet in these conversations, Verso turns up his charm and manipulation tactics to try to tweak the situation to his benefit. He wants Maelle to give up and leave the canvas so Renoir can erase it. He needs Lune and Sciel to work with them so that he can reach Renoir as he suspects that confrontation will be the only way he can push Maelle out of the Canvas.

Healing cannot happen in a manipulative environment that continues to cause harm to others. In the Beyond Survival Anthology, Kai Cheng Thom’s essay called ‘What to Do when You’ve Been Abusive,’ has a list of steps to assist people on that journey toward accountability and healing. The first step:

“‘Learn to Listen When Someone Says You Have Hurt Them.’ When one has been abusive, the very first — and one of the most difficult — skills of holding oneself accountable is learning to simply listen to the person or people whom one has harmed:

- Listening without becoming defensive.
- Listening without trying to equivocate or make excuses.
- Listening without minimizing or denying the extent of the harm.
- Listening without trying to make oneself the center of the story being told.

When someone, particularly a partner or loved one, tells you that you have hurt or abused them, it can be easy to understand this as an accusation or attack…”

Thom here lists what Verso struggles to do in these conversations. He listens but is also defensive with Lune about his actions and proceeds to make excuses for his actions. In a way, Verso struggles to not see these confrontation as an attack, but truthfully, Lune calling out the harm isn’t an attack, it’s a consequence. Pointing out harm isn’t an attack but a courageous moment of honesty and vulnerability. Whether Verso sees that gift of vulnerability is hard to say as his actions and words are conflict depending on the person to whom he speaks.

Verso tends to make himself the center of the story being told in both Lune and Maelle’s conversations. The only one he doesn’t do this with is Sciel, but then Sciel doesn’t really give him that chance. Sciel recognizes that he speaks to give his reasons, and she doesn’t want to hear it, so she instead takes the conversation toward what they will do next. It’s a masterful way of pivoting the conversation to a more active form of accountability — Sciel is essentially asking Verso, “So, you hurt us, what are you going to do to fix this? Here’s one solution.”

Verso accepts Sciel’s solution, but then his conversation with Maelle, he goes on the rampage. He points out her family’s cycle of grief continues to hurt this Canvas, but he also knows that if Maelle leaves, there is no possible way he can honor his promises to Sciel and Lune. He speaks of a cycle of grief that causes harm, which is important to acknowledge, yet he refuses to listen to what Maelle is saying. In turn, Maelle goes quiet, which she often does to think over what others have said.

Thus, Verso’s defensiveness with Lune and Maelle ends up being:

“… the cycle of violence talking. This is the script that rape culture has built for us: a script in which there must be a hero and a villain, a right and a wrong, an accuser and an accused. What if we understood being confronted about perpetuating abuse as an act of courage — even a gift — on the part of the survivor?

What if, instead of reacting immediately in our own defense, we instead took the time to listen, to really try to understand the harm we might have done to another person?

When we think of accountability in terms of listening and love instead of accusation and punishment, everything changes. Listenign without becoming defensive does not necessarily mean relinquishing one’s own truth. We must be able to make room for varying perspectives and multiple emotional truths in our hearts.”

Painted Verso doesn’t make room for varying perspectives or multiple emotional truths. He may take some responsibility for his actions, or at least acknowledges the harm his actions have done, where he takes on only what he has done — no more, no less, but he doesn’t truly grow from that.

Thom writes how taking responsibility for the abuse is a crucial step, but one must also “accept that your reasons are not excuses.”

There is no reason good enough to excuse abusive behavior. Reasons help us understand abuse, but they do not excuse it. Accepting this is essential to transforming culpability into accountability and turning justice into healing.

Painted Verso spends a lot of time giving his reasons and expecting that to excuse his actions. Lune will have none of it as his reasons doesn’t excuse his lying and manipulative actions. He didn’t just betray them but also lied to them and manipulated them in harmful ways. Can Verso recognize the harm and truly be accountable?

This is where support of others can be crucial. Thom writes:

“When having a dialogue with someone who has been abused, it’s essential to give the survivor the space to take the lead in expressive their needs and setting boundaries. You should also take time to think about your own needs and boundaries without making the person you have harmed take care of you. This is why having support in the community is crucial. If basic needs are going unmet, no one can heal from abuse, nor can anyone truly be accountable.

If you have abused someone, it’s not up to you to decide how the process of healing or accountability should work. This doesn’t mean that you don’t get to have rights or boundaries, or that you can’t contribute actively to the process. It means that you don’t get to say that the person you have hurt is “crazy” or that what they are expressing doesn’t matter.

Instead, it might be good idea to try asking the person who has confronted you questions like these: what do you need right now? Is there anything I can do to make this feel better? How much contact would you like to have with me going forward? If we share a community, how should I navigate situations where we might end up int he same place? How does this conversation feel for you, right now?

At the same time, it’s important to understand that the needs of survivors of abuse can change over time, and that survivors may not always know right away — or ever — what their needs are.

Being accountable and responsible for abuse means being patient, flexible, and reflective about the process of having dialogue with the survivor.”

It’s crucial to note here that Thom is not saying that the survivor is an expert on accountability or that they should have full control over the process. Thom adds:

“I feel strongly that as long as punishment remains at the center of our thinking around accountability and justice, survivor-led processes are doomed to fall into the trap of individuals desperately trying to avoid accountability out of fear. Survivor-led, to me, means that survivors get to lead their own process of recovery, that survivors are given space to tell their stories and speak their needs (which criminal justice usually does not allow).

It does not mean that people who have been deeply wounded are suddenly handed full responsibility for a community dialogue and rehabilitation process. Survivor-led does not mean that the community gets to abdicate its responsibility for providing support, safety, expertise, and leadership in making healing happen.”

There are multiple paths in the accountability and healing process: the survivor, the one who caused harm, and the community. These paths may intersect at times, but Thom is arguing that none should exert control over the other’s path. Instead, listening, understanding, honoring boundaries, and opening onself up to changing present and future behaviors is what ‘survivor-led’ should mean.

Thom also makes it clear that the community itself needs to be involved to lay the groundwork to meet the needs of those within this process. Support by building safety, sharing expertise to help guide, and providing leadership to keep those involved accountable are all needed to assist in the healing process here.

Community support allows those involved to have someone with which to work through their emotions and thoughts. By working through emotions and thoughts, one can come to understand one’s own behaviors, emotions, actions, and through that find a path forward. This work means they are also holding themself accountable in the sense they are continuing to move forward on the path toward healing. Supportive friends, family, and community members can assist in helping those in this process stay on the healing path — that’s another type of accountability.

Supportive community is is what Painted Verso lacks. He does not allow anyone to truly be in community with him, and those that try are held at arm’s length with him manipulating events toward his own ends. Whether he ever allowed community to help him work through his trauma and pain relies on his own shared stories, of which seem suspect since what he says to one person doesn’t always align with what he says to another of the same event. The best we have is a journal entry from a prior expedition where he expresses his pain and hopes — hopes he doesn’t seem to have in Maelle’s time.

VERSO’S JOURNAL:

I miss you. I don’t have the right to miss you but I do. I wish I could talk to you. Tell you. Fuck. I don’t know what I would tell you. Just ask that you forgive me. Julie, forgive me. I’m not… I’m not a traitor. I’m not. I’m trying to save… I’m trying to save us all. But you’re right. I am a coward. I’m a fucking coward. You deserved to know why. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t face you properly. Not and still do what had to be done. Papa believes you are Clea’s creation, and even if you’re not, we can no longer trust you. But I think you just wanted answers.

Why? Why couldn’t you just let it go? Why did you convince them to abduct me? Interrogate me? No. I shouldn’t say that. You thought I was a traitor. You were doing what you thought was right, just like we are. I swear to you, I’m doing what’s right. I should have known when you started questioning things that you wouldn’t be fooled. But how could I even explain? You’d have thought I’d gone mad. Doppelgangers. Countless worlds. But Papa’s right. We can’t take the risk. Too much is at stake. Too much. It had to be done. It had to. Clea already took our sister. If we want to save our family, our world, our people, we can’t take any chances. And once we free Maman, she… she’ll bring you back. It won’t be forever. I promise. We deserve to live. All of us. We deserve to exist.

In this journal, Verso admits to his pain and how much he misses Julie, who seems to be a loved one. He justifies his actions, but also shows a willingness to understand why Julie did what she thought was right. He does his best to not internalize the hurtful words that Julie and her expedition likely threw at him — traitor for one. However, he makes a crucial mistake here by assuming Julie’s reactions to the actual truth. He doesn’t allow her to have agency, and instead took that from her by keeping her in the dark. This fueled distrust, especially as he acknowledges Julie had started to question things and notice what doesn’t make sense. Julie wanted answers, and Verso, here at least, acknowledges that she did deserve to know why things transpired the way they did.

He also asserts that they “deserve to exist.” Yet, in Maelle’s time, he seems to have changed his mind entirely as he spends far too much energy trying to convince Maelle to let the Canvas be erased. In his ending, he goes to great lengths to make sure the Canvas is erased. So he breaks all of his promises, and decides that no one deserves to exist in the Canvas. That they are not real and thus it is okay to erase populations.

Why does he come to this conclusion? Partly due to the massive amount of death he witnesses over the decades, and also because he doesn’t have a community to hold him accountable. When one is isolated like Painted Verso, it is all too easy to fall into despair and a desire for annihilation. This is why those who are suicidal shouldn’t be left alone, but need supportive family and friends to help them heal and find new meaning in life.

In Maelle’s ending, Maelle will try to give Verso that opportunity when she offers him the choice of “if you could grow old, would you… find a reason to smile?”

She’s trying to break the cycle of violence by making sure Verso doesn’t have to live the immortal life he so abhors. So she offers solutions that doesn’t end in a genocide of peoples or Painted Verso’s death. Despite the harm Verso has done, Maelle seeks to humanize him and offer him a compromise. Her ending hints strongly that he accepts her alternate solution and seems to find some hope in it, as he does indeed grow old.

This humanization of the person causing harm is also critical to the healing process. The survivor of abuse doesn’t have to be the one to humanize the one causing harm, but those in the community ought to be able to step in for that.

In another essay in the Beyond Survival Anthology, there is an excerpt from the handbook, Ending Child Sexual Abuse:

“We see that abuse happens when one person believes, consciously or unconsciously, that their needs, wants, and preferences take precedence over others. People engaging in abusive behaviors are often numb to, or seemingly unable to feel, the impacts of their behaviors on others.

A process of accountability and transformation requires that the person who has been harmful:

- Stop doing the harm.
- Feels empathy and remorse for the pain and impact of their actions.
- Takes measures, like restitution or reparations, to address the harm caused.
- Takes measures to prevent future harm.
- Works to understand the root causes of their harmful behavior.
- Engages in the ongoing work of accountability, healing, and integration.
- Take action and organizes to support others to heal or to be part of changing community and social conditions that allow for CSA and other forms of violence.”

Here the list shows how difficult healing can be, and how scary it is to make the choice to heal. Yet, it’s crucial for ending the cycle of violence to not dehumanize anyone involved. Dehumanization continues the cycle of violence. As the handbook excerpt says:

“It is important to center the needs of those most directly impacted by the harm in a situation. We also hold that recognizing and attending to the humanity of those who harm is a central aspect of transforming our families, communities, and society. Seeing and dignifying the healing needs of people who abuse also runs counter to the idea that some people “out there” are “monsters” who are expendable or need to be “weeded out.” By standing for everyone’s need for healing, we challenge the dehumanizing logic that is central to systems of oppression, domination, and abuse. By standing for everyone’s need for healing, we maintain our commitment to a vision of true liberation.”

Part of this process means those who cause harm need to understand that not all consequences are “harm.” Consequences to their actions are often necessary and may not be a form of “harm.” For example, Lune calling out the harm of Verso’s lies is the consequence of his actions. She lost trust in him is another consequence. Him having to earn back that trust is yet another consequence. None of these consequences are “harms” done to Verso. It’s simply part of the accountability process.

Humanizing those involved are absolutely critical to ending the cycle of violence. When people are dehumanized, they are stripped of who they are, and this causes harm to all involved. If the cycle of violence is to be ended, then those involved must be humanized and their dignity honored.

This is incredibly difficult to do at times. As a survivor of abuse, I struggled greatly with wanting my abuser to feel the weight of my pain, but through therapy, I learned that truthfully I didn’t want my abuser to be harmed in return. I wanted the cycle of abuse to end. That revelation allowed me to move past the anger and make a conscious choice to heal.

This conscious choice to heal is required of those that cause harm as well. However, shame, guilt, and fear can often make that choice extremely difficult.

Both Verso and Maelle struggle with shame and guilt. Maelle’s guilt and shame lay in her internalizing the blame Aline and Clea lay at her feet. Except, the fire is not Maelle’s fault, but that of the Writers that cause it. Her guilt and shame originate from actions that are not her own.

However, for Verso, his guilt and shame do originate from his own actions, for he did kill members of his prior expeditions, he did lie to people, and he did manipulate people for his own ends. However, it’s crucial to separate shame from guilt. In Kai Cheng Thom’s essay, shame and guilt is defined:

“Shame and social stigma are powerful emotional forces that can prevent us from holding ourselves accountable for being abusive. We don’t want to admit to “being that person,” so we don’t admit to having been abusive at all.

Some people might suggest that people who have been abusive ought to feel shame — after all, perpetuating abuse is wrong. I would argue, though, that this is where the difference between guilt and shame is key. Guilt is feeling bad about something you’ve done; shame is feeling bad about who you are. People who have been abusive should feel guilty for the specific acts of abuse they are responsible for. They should not feel shame about who they are because this means that abuse has become a part of their identity. It means they believe that they are fundamentally a bad person — in other words, “an abuser.”

But if you believe that you are an “abuser,” a bad person who hurts others, then you have already lost the struggle for change — because we cannot change who we are. If you believe that you are a fundamentally good person who has done hurtful or abusive things, then you open the possibility for change.”

When Thom says we “cannot change who we are,” this is in regard to our identities and personality. The “possibility for change” is in regard to our decisions, actions, and future decisions and actions. Those we can change, but we shouldn’t try to alter our personality and identity to be someone we are not. We should focus on how to make better decisions and to act in ways that are more healthy and holistic for us and those around us.

Verso, when he first introduces himself to Expedition 33, calls himself a liar. By doing so, he shows he internalized his actions as part of his identity. This makes it very difficult to hold oneself accountable and being open to the “possibility for change.” If he views lying as crucial to his identity, then why should he stop? It’s who he is, isn’t it? It’s a complete 180 from his journal entry where he refused to accept ‘traitor’ as being who he is.

But lying isn’t who he truly is. He’s, instead, taken a behavior and marked it as a personality trait. Truthfully, his personality isn’t a lying manipulator — we can see bits and pieces of who he is in the scenes where he plays a piano with Maelle, goes out of his way to help Sciel move past her fear of water, shares music with Lune, chats with Esquie, or hangs out with Monoco. He’s a bit silly, fun-loving, jokester, that wants to do the right thing but doesn’t know how. He’s trapped in a cycle of his own making, yet he’s unwilling to recognize his own cycle. Instead, he internalizes the lies as part of who he is, when it’s not — that’s his trauma speaking.

Until Verso can recognize his own cycle of violence and shame, he remains trapped in his cycle, unable to acknowledge his abuse and never able to progress toward healing. Even in his ending, when he fights Maelle to force her from the Canvas, his solution to his cycle is to annihilate himself and everyone in the Canvas. He refuses to see another way. Yet, until he recognizes that his harmful behaviors are not core to his personality, he won’t ever see how to stop his cycle of harm.

This is where Thom goes on to state that as much as those who cause harm shouldn’t “expect anyone to forgive you,” they should, however, forgive themselves:

“Being accountable is not about earning forgiveness. This is to say, it doesn’t matter how accountable you are — nobody has to forgive you for being abusive, least of all the person you have abused. In fact, using the process of “doing” accountability to manipulate or coerce someone into their forgiveness to you is an extension of the abuse dynamic. It center the abuser, not the survivor. One shouldn’t aim for forgiveness when holding oneself accountable. Rather self-accountability is about learning how we have harmed others, why we have harmed others, and how we can stop.

But… you do have to forgive yourself. Because you can’t stop hurting other people until you stop hurting yourself. When one is abusive, when one is hurting so much on the inside that it feels like the only way to make it stop is to hurt other people, it can be terrifying to face the hard truth of words like abuse and accountability. One might rather blame others, blame society, blame the people we love, instead of ourselves.

This is true, I think, of community as well as individuals. It is so much easier, so much simpler, to create hard lines between good and bad people, to create walls to shut the shadowy archetype of “the abuser” out instead of mirrors to look at the abuser within.

Perhaps this is why self-accountability tools like this list are so rare. It takes courage to be accountable. To decide to heal. But when we do decide, we discover incredible new possibilities. There is good and bad in everyone. Anyone can heal, given the right circumstances, and everyone can heal, given the same. You are capable of loving and being loved. Always. Always. Always.”

These are critical points for accountability. The process isn’t so we can “earn forgiveness” like it’s some sort of game achievement. Accountability is about learning, listening, seeking to understand why we did what we did, and finding solutions on how we can stop. Where we end the cycle of violence and instead move into a trajectory toward healing and choosing actions that cause the least harm and the most good.

And what is the most good? How do we know what is good?

To understand what ‘good’ means, we need to briefly explore ethics and morality. This game, thankfully, has already given us that exploration already in the Lumierians — Gustave and Lune in particular. I won’t dig too deeply into this as I feel that Lord Khoury does a much better job in his video here (which I recommend as he lays out an excellent case for why Maelle’s ending is a morally good one). I will simply briefly highlight Gustave’s and Lune’s use of Utilitarianism.

Consequences and Utilitarianism

Gustave, at the start of the game points out how the Gommage seems almost gentle, how it makes Lumiere seem complacent, but it is no less violent. He defines the act of violence and injustice, and in his temporal reality, Lumiere identified the best route to liberation is through confrontation with the Paintress.

Throughout the Prologue and Act 1, we are shown how Gustave lives his morals and how he determines actions to be morally good. These deliberations rely on what is known as utilitarianism. The Standford Encyclopedia of Philosophy defines this as:

“…utilitarianism is generally held to be the view that the morally right action is the action that produces the most good. There are many ways to spell out this general claim. One thing to note is that the theory is a form of consequentialism: the right action is understood entirely in terms of consequences produced. What distinguishes utilitarianism from egoism has to do with the scope of the relevant consequences. On the utilitarian view one ought to maximize the overall good — that is, consider the good of others as well as one’s own good.”

Gustave’s moralism shows through the projects he describes — teaching his apprentices, Aquafarms, etc. — and in how he interacts with those around him. He understands quite well the consequences of possible actions, and chooses the ones that will do the most good.

For example, when Expedition 33 is separated, Gustave determines the right action is to seek Maelle. He evaluates the consequences of this, and although his emotions push for a specific end result, he still evaluates based on the known information at that time. As in, the note inscribed on the Indigo Tree, the lack of survivors at the Indigo Tree meeting point, and the knowledge of how difficult it is to survive alone.

GUSTAVE: It’s a lead, or only lead, whoever this is has Maelle. We have to go.
LUNE: No, not yet. Protocol is to regroup at rendevous point and wait three days. This message feels off. If it was an Expeditioner, they would have stayed here. Everyone knows the protocol.
GUSTAVE: Right, but they may have been in danger. Maybe this location has been compromised. Things change in the field.
LUNE: There’s a reason its protocol.
GUSTAVE: Protocol doesn’t cover every contingency. You know that.
LUNE: There’s a reason its Protocol. We designed it to yield the optimal result in the vast majority of situations.
GUSTAVE: Was our entire team dying part of that “optimal result?”
LUNE: …
GUSTAVE: Look, I’m going after Maelle. Protocol also states ‘never move solo.’ I’ll let you choose what protocol to break.

Here we see how both Gustave and Lune lay out their reasoning for the preferred actions. Gustave focuses on the consequences and concludes going after Maelle will save the most lives based on their current information. Lune, who attempts to argue for the Protocol, finds herself faced with possible consequences that could either endanger Gustave — if he goes alone — or herself — if she stays and he goes — or the mission — if the team is split up.

Lune follows him because of the two protocols they are breaking — one results in a higher number of lives saved and better chance at surviving long enough to complete their mission. Thus, after evaluating what is known and the consequences of various actions, she determines the action that achieve the most good.

In survival, determining the consequences of actions that result in the most lives saved fits firmly in the utilitarianism worldview. Thus, in determining what actions are ‘good,’ it is crucial to seek to understand the consequences of that action for everyone — not just ourselves. This is where Verso falls short as his understanding of the consequences of his actions revolves around the impact on himself; he continues to assert his view, even when others protest and show the harm of it.

Part of that is because he doesn’t show a willingness to examine the situation fully with other people. He’s kept himself relatively isolated for decades, and sought to meet his needs on his own. Isolation can easily distort our thinking and lead us toward despair.

With the Lumierians, we see an alternate route. Gustave and Lune actively talk through the situation at the Indigo Tree. Gustave lays out his analysis and Lune does as well. Gustave, however, focuses on the lives he can actively save in that moment rather than the lives they do not know still live or not. Though this dialogue, the two examine consequences of their actions. Both go back and forth in acknowledging what the other is saying, and also responding to the concerns brought up. In the end, Gustave’s decision to go after Maelle is vindicated in his eyes, and he offers Lune a choice. Lune, in turn, honors the protocol that will save the most lives — staying with Gustave and saving someone that is likely still alive. Considering, they have no further data on anyone else surviving, going after Maelle ends up being justified as the ‘good’ decision through the consequences of their actions.

We see this same sort of analysis play out a few times in Act 1 with how the group analyzes the situation, examines consequences, and come to a decision. Gustave and Lune lead the charge here, and their example provides a litmus test for Maelle to use in trying to determine what decisions are ‘good.’

For another example, Gustave and Lune’s intense fight before they find Maelle:

GUSTAVE: I am not letting Maelle die out here. I’m taking her home.
LUNE: What? No, no, no, we have a mission —
GUSTAVE: Oh, fuck the mission! Fuck the mission, Lune. What are we gonna do? Tell me. What are we gonna do? We’re gonna take down the Paintress, just the three of us? My — my gun and your sparks?
LUNE: I didn’t take you for a coward.
GUSTAVE: I’m not a coward.
LUNE: You swore the oath. “When one falls, we continue.”
GUSTAVE: Yes, I know.
LUNE: When one falls. WHEN one falls. Not if. When. We knew not all of us would make it. But “We Continue.” As long even one of us stands, our fight is not over.
GUSTAVE: But I’m not afraid to fight, it’s just Maelle, she’s —
LUNE: Maelle swore the same oath!
GUSTAVE: I know that!
LUNE: She choose her life! Come on, we always said that the future of Lumiere was more important than any —
GUSTAVE: individual life, yes.
LUNE: Do you still believe that?

Here Lune reminds Gustave of the consequences of swearing their oath. Consequences all of them knew before they swore the oath. She also makes it clear that Maelle also swore this oath, knowing the risks, and that she choose that. Lune is reminding Gustave of Maelle’s agency. Through this conversation, she’s challenging him on the consequences of what will happen if he takes Maelle back: he’d break his oath, he’d leave Lune here to continue alone, he’d violate Maelle’s agency, and he would put the future of Lumiere at risk.

This conversation pushes Gustave toward the ‘good’ decision, which is to honor Maelle’s agency. Something he will confirm in a later conversation after they are reunited with Maelle and have found Sciel with the Gestrals:

GUSTAVE: Maybe you should stay…
MAELLE: What?
GUSTAVE: It’s safer in the village.
MAELLE: And miss the change to meet Esquie? No way.
GUSTAVE: Maelle…
MAELLE: I’m okay. We stick together.

This conversation proved Lune to be correct. The consequences Lune had laid out as her reasoning on the ‘good choice,’ made it clear that Maelle had chosen this life. Gustave here confirms it with Maelle herself, and he then honors that choice.

Thus, Gustave and Lune provide excellent examples of the use of utilitarianism for determining the morally ‘good’ choice, as well as how to handle conflict. They also show how the Canvas Lumierians honor the agency of others.

It’s through our dialogue with those around us that we come to understand possible consequences and how they may impact others. That dialog then allows us to generate ideas that cause the least harm to all involved and saves the most lives (or in less dire situations, helps the most people feel heard, understood, and agency honored). This can be difficult to do, and in times of danger, we often act on instinct because there isn’t enough time to deliberate on consequences.

However, after the danger is over, we must be willing to analyze what happened and take accountability for our actions. We must not take on the responsibility of other people’s actions, only take on our own. We need to listen to others, and they in turn listen to us. We need to be open to change behaviors if we cause harm, which we see Lune, Gustave, Maelle, and Sciel do on their journey. That’s part of holding one another accountable and choosing healing.

Maelle having the support of her Canvas family is critical to her own journey toward healing. The scene where Maelle has a waking nightmare in Act 1 after the Gestral Village, we see Gustave, Sciel, and Lune gather around her to comfort her. They bring down her panic, and stay at her side until she’s calm. This level of care is not shown by the Dessendre family toward Maelle. Thus, Maelle finds her strongest support system within the Canvas, away from an environment of abuse and neglect. This chosen family helps hold her accountable and supports her as she makes decisions to end the cycle of violence. To choose to heal.

Verso struggles to understand this lesson the entirety of the game. The only clue we are given that he may finally learn it is in Maelle’s ending, when Maelle offers a different solution to his desire to cease his immortal life. He still lives in her ending, but he’s grown old. His fingers find it harder to play the piano — hence the dissonance at first before he plays. Perhaps in this ending he learns how to be accountable and chooses healing. The game seems to imply it, but the game also leaves it open-ended.

In Verso’s ending, Verso doesn’t choose healing but instead chooses to take the agency from everyone involved — Maelle, the faded boy, the different Canvas peoples — and fades into annihilation. Maelle, then, returns to life as Alicia Dessendre, who is disabled and essentially institutionalized in her family’s manor. She has no support system, and her mother still looks at her with disdain. Clea still offers no support, only goes off to do her one-person war. In the ending, Renoir doesn’t even look at Alicia — only at Aline. Alicia stands isolated, and tries to smile, tries to see anything good in this, but instead, she hallucinates the family she’s lost. As they gommage away, I noticed how her shoulders droop and she holds Esquie tighter. A sign that her hope evaporates with them? Again, the game leaves it open-ended.

When still in an abusive environment, healing is out of reach, even if one chooses it, because the circumstances causing the trauma is ongoing. One must exit the abusive environment, but to do so often requires support of others to assist in finding a safer place to be. If there is no one there to provide the necessary support to heal, then it is incredibly difficult to actively heal.

Thus, healing from grief and from abuse both require breaking cycles, but to break those cycles, we need the necessarily family/friends and/or community support. It is not truly possible to do this when we are isolated, because isolation itself is a form of harm that can easily lead us into despair, as we saw with Painted Verso.

Breaking the cycle of violence can only happen when we have built up a community of people who love us for who we are. Then and only then, will we have the support to choose to heal, to hold ourselves accountable, to actively listen to others, and when needed alter our behaviors toward more healthy patterns.

This is not an easy process, and it will require hard work from all involved. Yet the payoff is a healthier existence and a chance to thrive rather than just survive.

#abuse #accountability #Characters #clairObscurExpedition33 #disability #GameAnalysis #gameNarrative #healing #healingJourney #justice #mentalHealth #narrativeAnalysis #responsibility #transformativeJustice #writing

The Game Narrative Kaleidoscope

Game design is simple, actually