1. The Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer “Ladies and gentlemen of the City Council, I’m just a caveman… Your world frightens and confuses me. When I see your tall buildings and flashing neon signs, sometimes I just want to get away as fast as I can, to my place in Martha’s Vineyard. I’m more at home hunting the woolly mammoth than I am hunting a good interior decorator. And when I see a solar eclipse, like the one I went to in Hawaii last week, I think ‘Oh no, is the moon eating the sun?’, because I’m a caveman… but there is one thing I do know. The new resort housing development proposed by my partners and myself, will include more than adequate greenbelts for recreation and aesthetic enhancement. Thank you. (smug grin)” —Cirroc, The Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer, Saturday Night Live We’ve all seen it. A character is placed in a completely unfamiliar environment, perhaps sent forward through time, or to a ship in outer space, or something equally ridiculous, and quickly becomes a Fish out of Water. This case doesn’t seem any different. Just like every other time, the fish is flapping around, and is running out of air. But wait, why does it look like that fish is trying to walk on its hind fins? IT’S LEARNING TO BREATHE AIR! Something’s fishy here. Take it to the illogical extreme, and you could end up with a caveman, frozen in ice for thousands of years, who awakes to the modern world and promptly becomes a lawyer. It’s when a former Fish out of Water becomes well adapted to their new environment, to the point where they almost fit there better than the people that actually belong there. Makes you think this is where they should have been in the first place. Often justified in that the person coincidentally had an affinity for the very environment they ended up in, and thanks to their Genre Savvy manage to adapt with little fuss. i.e. a person who reads a lot of sci-fi novels ending up in space and thanks to all the stories he’s read about aliens, is inoculated against the shock of being around them and easily wraps his head around their whacky explanations of all the Phlebotinum they tote around. Sometimes the justification is that the newcomer’s fresh viewpoint makes them superior to the natives at operating in his new environment. An alternate justification is that the newcomer possesses a trait he always considered useless, but is of incredible utility in his new environment. Named for SNL’s Cirroc, The Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer, who slyly manipulated the jury by playing the “I’m just a caveman” card, who wore nice suits, and had a smug charm stereotypical of modern laywers. Despite the name the character is not necessarily a Contemporary Caveman. Compare Like a Fish Takes to Water, Going Native, Mighty Whitey, and I Know Mortal Kombat; contrast Fish out of Water and Fish Out of Temporal Water. An Unfazed Everyman may grow into this. Villains Blend In Better is a subtrope. Very like a Bunny-Ears Lawyer in that they’re strange but competent and accepted as such.

    The Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer

    “Ladies and gentlemen of the City Council, I’m just a caveman… Your world frightens and confuses me. When I see your tall buildings and flashing neon signs, sometimes I just want to get away as fast as I can, to my place in Martha’s Vineyard. I’m more at home hunting the woolly mammoth than I am hunting a good interior decorator. And when I see a solar eclipse, like the one I went to in Hawaii last week, I think ‘Oh no, is the moon eating the sun?’, because I’m a caveman… but there is one thing I do know. The new resort housing development proposed by my partners and myself, will include more than adequate greenbelts for recreation and aesthetic enhancement. Thank you. (smug grin)”
    —Cirroc, The Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer, Saturday Night Live

    We’ve all seen it. A character is placed in a completely unfamiliar environment, perhaps sent forward through time, or to a ship in outer space, or something equally ridiculous, and quickly becomes a Fish out of Water. This case doesn’t seem any different. Just like every other time, the fish is flapping around, and is running out of air. But wait, why does it look like that fish is trying to walk on its hind fins? IT’S LEARNING TO BREATHE AIR! Something’s fishy here.

    Take it to the illogical extreme, and you could end up with a caveman, frozen in ice for thousands of years, who awakes to the modern world and promptly becomes a lawyer. It’s when a former Fish out of Water becomes well adapted to their new environment, to the point where they almost fit there better than the people that actually belong there. Makes you think this is where they should have been in the first place. Often justified in that the person coincidentally had an affinity for the very environment they ended up in, and thanks to their Genre Savvy manage to adapt with little fuss. i.e. a person who reads a lot of sci-fi novels ending up in space and thanks to all the stories he’s read about aliens, is inoculated against the shock of being around them and easily wraps his head around their whacky explanations of all the Phlebotinum they tote around. Sometimes the justification is that the newcomer’s fresh viewpoint makes them superior to the natives at operating in his new environment.

    An alternate justification is that the newcomer possesses a trait he always considered useless, but is of incredible utility in his new environment. Named for SNL’s Cirroc, The Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer, who slyly manipulated the jury by playing the “I’m just a caveman” card, who wore nice suits, and had a smug charm stereotypical of modern laywers. Despite the name the character is not necessarily a Contemporary Caveman.

    Compare Like a Fish Takes to Water, Going Native, Mighty Whitey, and I Know Mortal Kombat; contrast Fish out of Water and Fish Out of Temporal Water. An Unfazed Everyman may grow into this. Villains Blend In Better is a subtrope. Very like a Bunny-Ears Lawyer in that they’re strange but competent and accepted as such.

  2. Eye Am Watching You So there’s something off about the new guy. You want to keep him on his toes, let him know that he can’t be at home just yet. You want him to know that you’ll be watching him. The wonders of nonverbal communication make saying all this without wasting your breath possible. Just perform these three simple gestures: 1. Point to yourself: “I” 2. Point to your eyes, preferably using the backward V Sign: “AM WATCHING” 3. Point to your target: “YOU.” Details can vary from forgoing some of the steps (most often the first one, since technically you’re pointing to yourself in step 2 anyway) to using different fingers when pointing at different things, but this is how you generally tell someone that Eye Am Watching You. Though generally a threatening gesture, it is known to have at times been used in a friendly or reassuring manner as well; communicating something to the effect of “I’ll be seeing you”, “I’ve got your back” or such. In sign language, the same gesture from one side of the face (not centered) translates as “see” or “I see you.”

    Eye Am Watching You

    So there’s something off about the new guy. You want to keep him on his toes, let him know that he can’t be at home just yet. You want him to know that you’ll be watching him.

    The wonders of nonverbal communication make saying all this without wasting your breath possible. Just perform these three simple gestures: 1. Point to yourself: “I” 2. Point to your eyes, preferably using the backward V Sign: “AM WATCHING” 3. Point to your target: “YOU.” Details can vary from forgoing some of the steps (most often the first one, since technically you’re pointing to yourself in step 2 anyway) to using different fingers when pointing at different things, but this is how you generally tell someone that Eye Am Watching You.

    Though generally a threatening gesture, it is known to have at times been used in a friendly or reassuring manner as well; communicating something to the effect of “I’ll be seeing you”, “I’ve got your back” or such. In sign language, the same gesture from one side of the face (not centered) translates as “see” or “I see you.”

  3. Winged Humanoid Simply put, it’s a human with wings sprouting from their back. Biologically improbable due to human bone and muscle structure, and if they’re intended for actual flight, you may have to write off several laws of physics as well. Therefore, such characters are often assumed to be not entirely of this world. This ties into the classic depictions of winged angels as well. The type of wing is usually indicative of the character’s morality — see Good Wings, Evil Wings. If there’s something even slightly resembling feathers, expect a Perpetual Molt. Don’t expect flapping, however there will be plenty of floating. Best done via animation, as live-action wings are bulky and can look rather silly. Animated wings are also easier to “tuck away”, or may even vanish into hammerspace. If a character suddenly sprouts a pair, it’s because Power Gives You Wings. Generally seen as highly attractive, even if the Wings Do Nothing. If you’re looking for the flying partner of an Ace Pilot, try Wing Man. Compare Peacock Girl, Pegasus. May become a Broken Angel if their wings are clipped.

    Winged Humanoid

    Simply put, it’s a human with wings sprouting from their back.

    Biologically improbable due to human bone and muscle structure, and if they’re intended for actual flight, you may have to write off several laws of physics as well. Therefore, such characters are often assumed to be not entirely of this world. This ties into the classic depictions of winged angels as well. The type of wing is usually indicative of the character’s morality — see Good Wings, Evil Wings. If there’s something even slightly resembling feathers, expect a Perpetual Molt. Don’t expect flapping, however there will be plenty of floating. Best done via animation, as live-action wings are bulky and can look rather silly.

    Animated wings are also easier to “tuck away”, or may even vanish into hammerspace. If a character suddenly sprouts a pair, it’s because Power Gives You Wings. Generally seen as highly attractive, even if the Wings Do Nothing. If you’re looking for the flying partner of an Ace Pilot, try Wing Man.

    Compare Peacock Girl, Pegasus. May become a Broken Angel if their wings are clipped.

  4. High Class Glass Leela: I know Fry’s rich, but do we really have to wear these top hats? Bender:Maybe you don’t understand just how rich he is. In fact, I think I’d better put on a monocle. — Futurama, “A Fishful of Dollars” Want to give your character a prop that sets him as high as possible in the social strata? Give him a tophat and a monocle. Like a sir. Largely obsolete today, the monocle is a corrective lens applied to only one eye. In this sense it is no different from eyeglasses. But while eyeglasses have never been anything more than a medical appliance (with the possible exception of the pince-nez), the monocle has been a status symbol virtually since its invention. They are never seen on the faces of the working class. Instead, they are the exclusive province of titled nobility, high ranking military officers, upper-echelon businessmen, academics, etc. They are also exclusively worn by men — though lesbians in the early 20th century sometimes used them for a subtly masculine edge. Monocles were available to the lower classes, but proper manufacture and fitting made them very expensive. Cheaper versions were of poor quality and very uncomfortable to wear. In media, the monocle’s wearer will constantly clean it and fidget with it. It will be whipped out and squinted through when the wearer views something below his social station. In comedies, a monocle will pop off its wearer’s face and/or shatter in shocked response to the working class hero giving this pompous toady his well-deserved comeuppance. The monocle is also a popular graffito to draw on a sleeping person’s face. A trope largely as obsolete as the monocle itself, it still turns up in period pieces and parodies, and is gaining popularity in the Steam Punk scene. The female version is the lorgnette, which is a pair of spectacles on a small stick to be held up when you want to look at something. It is a common property of the Grande Dame. Given its association with wealth and status, it’s a very popular prop for the Mock Millionaire. Today, putting a monocle and top hat on anything is sure to get a laugh just out of the pure absurdity. Sub-trope of Stock Costume Traits.

    High Class Glass

    Leela: I know Fry’s rich, but do we really have to wear these top hats?
    Bender:Maybe you don’t understand just how rich he is. In fact, I think I’d better put on a monocle.
    — Futurama, “A Fishful of Dollars”

    Want to give your character a prop that sets him as high as possible in the social strata? Give him a tophat and a monocle. Like a sir.

    Largely obsolete today, the monocle is a corrective lens applied to only one eye. In this sense it is no different from eyeglasses. But while eyeglasses have never been anything more than a medical appliance (with the possible exception of the pince-nez), the monocle has been a status symbol virtually since its invention.

    They are never seen on the faces of the working class. Instead, they are the exclusive province of titled nobility, high ranking military officers, upper-echelon businessmen, academics, etc. They are also exclusively worn by men — though lesbians in the early 20th century sometimes used them for a subtly masculine edge. Monocles were available to the lower classes, but proper manufacture and fitting made them very expensive. Cheaper versions were of poor quality and very uncomfortable to wear. In media, the monocle’s wearer will constantly clean it and fidget with it. It will be whipped out and squinted through when the wearer views something below his social station. In comedies, a monocle will pop off its wearer’s face and/or shatter in shocked response to the working class hero giving this pompous toady his well-deserved comeuppance. The monocle is also a popular graffito to draw on a sleeping person’s face. A trope largely as obsolete as the monocle itself, it still turns up in period pieces and parodies, and is gaining popularity in the Steam Punk scene. The female version is the lorgnette, which is a pair of spectacles on a small stick to be held up when you want to look at something. It is a common property of the Grande Dame. Given its association with wealth and status, it’s a very popular prop for the Mock Millionaire. Today, putting a monocle and top hat on anything is sure to get a laugh just out of the pure absurdity. Sub-trope of Stock Costume Traits.

  5. Crystal Ball “I don’t need help, it’s obvious what this means: there’s going to be loads of fog tonight.” — Ron Weasley looking into a crystal ball, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban Common prop used by witches and psychics (and Hollywood Roma) for fortune telling, scrying, and long distance communication. Most commonly it’s a dinner plate sized sphere of clear glass, but these can be of just about any size and material, so long as they’re shiny. Despite their ubiquity, there are many, many more ways to tell the future or view remote locations. Pools of water are mystic favorites, as are thrown bones, giblets, and of course Magic Mirrors. See also Surveillance As The Plot Demands, Blindfolded Vision, Crystal Skull and Chronoscope.

    Crystal Ball

    “I don’t need help, it’s obvious what this means: there’s going to be loads of fog tonight.”
    — Ron Weasley looking into a crystal ball, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

    Common prop used by witches and psychics (and Hollywood Roma) for fortune telling, scrying, and long distance communication. Most commonly it’s a dinner plate sized sphere of clear glass, but these can be of just about any size and material, so long as they’re shiny.

    Despite their ubiquity, there are many, many more ways to tell the future or view remote locations. Pools of water are mystic favorites, as are thrown bones, giblets, and of course Magic Mirrors.

    See also Surveillance As The Plot Demands, Blindfolded Vision, Crystal Skull and Chronoscope.

  6. Absurdly Powerful Student Council “Each student government possesses decision-making powers that outrank those of the board of directors, the PTA, and the faculty.” — CLAMP School Detectives In real life, power in United States schools is in the hands of the principal and faculty and the board of education; and of course, these are subordinate to the power of state and federal courts. In England and Wales it lies with the Headteacher, the Board of Governors and the Local Education Authority. Other jurisdictions, including Scotland, may have their own arrangements. To create the illusion of students having power over their lives at school, student councils are forged. In truth, these groups are largely figurehead posts, the only real power they have is superficial and the only benefit is a student council slot on your college application under “extra curricular activities” and an extra picture in the yearbook. In fiction, student council is Serious Business, with power worthy of corruption and abuse in the hands of those with evil in their hearts. Students have unparalleled freedom — they do as they please on campus, invent arbitrary rules that punish the masses and give themselves and their allies special privileges. No member of the staff dare rebuke them. In fact, the staff may rarely appear at all (see Two-Teacher School). Occasionally, their power will be checked by others, such as the School Newspaper Newshound. In the event that the student council is not corrupt and seeks to use their powers for good rather than evil, their rival will be the actual school administration, who will often butt heads with the council over the administration’s own corruption/tyranny. One thing that may or may not overlap with this trope is how the Yearbook Committee seems to have supreme power over the yearbook, despite the fact that in Real Life schools, administration would step in so that the student(s) that is in danger of being hurt by the pictures would be out of harm’s way. Naturally, led by the Student Council President. If the student council is not only powerful, but more powerful than the adults, then they have a Teenage Wasteland. Note that in Japan, this is an exaggeration of Truth in Television, as the Student Councils actually do have power over the approval and funding of student clubs. Clubs are SERIOUS BUSINESS, as they’re meant to prepare students for the high-pressure work environment into which they’ll eventually be dumped, and students are strongly encouraged to join at least one. And just like in their future jobs, students are expected to show utmost loyalty to their club: once you join, you’re there for life. Are you starting to see the clout Student Council can hold? In terms of rank, about the only authority trope arguably as low as this is the Landlord. For the only other lower step, see Club President. For the next step up, see Student Council President.

    Absurdly Powerful Student Council

    “Each student government possesses decision-making powers that outrank those of the board of directors, the PTA, and the faculty.”
    — CLAMP School Detectives

    In real life, power in United States schools is in the hands of the principal and faculty and the board of education; and of course, these are subordinate to the power of state and federal courts. In England and Wales it lies with the Headteacher, the Board of Governors and the Local Education Authority. Other jurisdictions, including Scotland, may have their own arrangements. To create the illusion of students having power over their lives at school, student councils are forged. In truth, these groups are largely figurehead posts, the only real power they have is superficial and the only benefit is a student council slot on your college application under “extra curricular activities” and an extra picture in the yearbook. In fiction, student council is Serious Business, with power worthy of corruption and abuse in the hands of those with evil in their hearts. Students have unparalleled freedom — they do as they please on campus, invent arbitrary rules that punish the masses and give themselves and their allies special privileges. No member of the staff dare rebuke them.

    In fact, the staff may rarely appear at all (see Two-Teacher School). Occasionally, their power will be checked by others, such as the School Newspaper Newshound. In the event that the student council is not corrupt and seeks to use their powers for good rather than evil, their rival will be the actual school administration, who will often butt heads with the council over the administration’s own corruption/tyranny. One thing that may or may not overlap with this trope is how the Yearbook Committee seems to have supreme power over the yearbook, despite the fact that in Real Life schools, administration would step in so that the student(s) that is in danger of being hurt by the pictures would be out of harm’s way. Naturally, led by the Student Council President.

    If the student council is not only powerful, but more powerful than the adults, then they have a Teenage Wasteland. Note that in Japan, this is an exaggeration of Truth in Television, as the Student Councils actually do have power over the approval and funding of student clubs.

    Clubs are SERIOUS BUSINESS, as they’re meant to prepare students for the high-pressure work environment into which they’ll eventually be dumped, and students are strongly encouraged to join at least one. And just like in their future jobs, students are expected to show utmost loyalty to their club: once you join, you’re there for life. Are you starting to see the clout Student Council can hold? In terms of rank, about the only authority trope arguably as low as this is the Landlord. For the only other lower step, see Club President. For the next step up, see Student Council President.

  7. Millenium Bug They say two thousand zero zero, party over, oops, out of time So tonight we’re gonna party like it’s nineteen ninety nine. —Prince, 1999 Supposedly, on the first of January, 2000, the world was going to be destroyed by a computer glitch named the ‘Millennium Bug’ (also referred to as ‘Y2K’ or the ‘Year 2000 problem’) whereby numerous computer systems would think the year was 1900 instead of 2000, resulting in planes falling out of the sky, satellites going wrong and all the calculators going to silicon heaven. (Most of the actual problems were just cosmetic, such as programs displaying the year after “1999” as “19100”, or desktop internal clocks resetting to 1st January 1981 as a crash-preventing exception). Of course, planes, satellites and calculators didn’t do that, much to the joy of aviators, astronomers and calculus students. But the bug was an opportunity for writers to come up with doomsday stories and a few of them even wrote of actual insects (groan-worthy though that may sound). Some newspapers even had a weekly column in their tech section throughout 1999, detailing how things were going in the battle against the bug. It’s worth noting that Y2K is now seen as being blown out of proportion, but that was mostly a direct result of thousands of man-hours of programmers (mostly COBOL, which isn’t really used for safety-critical software) working tirelessly to avoid a technological apocalypse. Although some dangers such as “planes falling out of the sky” were pretty much fabricated, the effects on the economic centre would be immeasurable. In addition, the Y2K preparations also had the effect of causing a lot of companies to rethink their emergency plans, helping them get back on their feet faster after events like 9/11 and the 2003 Northeast US blackout. Funnily enough, just when people started to relax when the 1999-2000 transition came to pass and nothing really major happened to computers across the globe, something actually did come along and wreak havoc on computers worldwide: the ILOVEYOU virus, or the “Love Bug” as it came to be misnomered. For the sequel to the Bug itself, watch for the Year 2038 problem (when the UNIX system time integer exhausts its 32 bits), coming soon to a computer near you. Fortunately, by that point, we will certainly be using 64-bit processors; however, many embedded systems still run on 32-bit CPUs and will continue to do so for years - maybe until 2038.

    Millenium Bug

    They say two thousand zero zero, party over, oops, out of time
    So tonight we’re gonna party like it’s nineteen ninety nine.
    —Prince, 1999

    Supposedly, on the first of January, 2000, the world was going to be destroyed by a computer glitch named the ‘Millennium Bug’ (also referred to as ‘Y2K’ or the ‘Year 2000 problem’) whereby numerous computer systems would think the year was 1900 instead of 2000, resulting in planes falling out of the sky, satellites going wrong and all the calculators going to silicon heaven. (Most of the actual problems were just cosmetic, such as programs displaying the year after “1999” as “19100”, or desktop internal clocks resetting to 1st January 1981 as a crash-preventing exception).

    Of course, planes, satellites and calculators didn’t do that, much to the joy of aviators, astronomers and calculus students. But the bug was an opportunity for writers to come up with doomsday stories and a few of them even wrote of actual insects (groan-worthy though that may sound). Some newspapers even had a weekly column in their tech section throughout 1999, detailing how things were going in the battle against the bug. It’s worth noting that Y2K is now seen as being blown out of proportion, but that was mostly a direct result of thousands of man-hours of programmers (mostly COBOL, which isn’t really used for safety-critical software) working tirelessly to avoid a technological apocalypse. Although some dangers such as “planes falling out of the sky” were pretty much fabricated, the effects on the economic centre would be immeasurable. In addition, the Y2K preparations also had the effect of causing a lot of companies to rethink their emergency plans, helping them get back on their feet faster after events like 9/11 and the 2003 Northeast US blackout.

    Funnily enough, just when people started to relax when the 1999-2000 transition came to pass and nothing really major happened to computers across the globe, something actually did come along and wreak havoc on computers worldwide: the ILOVEYOU virus, or the “Love Bug” as it came to be misnomered. For the sequel to the Bug itself, watch for the Year 2038 problem (when the UNIX system time integer exhausts its 32 bits), coming soon to a computer near you.

    Fortunately, by that point, we will certainly be using 64-bit processors; however, many embedded systems still run on 32-bit CPUs and will continue to do so for years - maybe until 2038.

  8. Doom Magnet “No matter what I do, the ones I love are always the ones who suffer.” — Spider-Man A character followed by doom and despair. He himself won’t feel the full sting of this cloud of doom. Instead, any character who he knows, is friends with, is related to, or even makes eye contact with, is inevitably doomed to some wretched fate, be it death, or something worse. A character like this is usually does one of two things: He either goes about his life, uncaring that this is happening, or he goes about life lamenting about how he can’t stop causing suffering. Basically, a character who always indirectly has collateral damage all around them. Any Hitman with a Heart especially runs the risk of suffering this. Related to Cartwright Curse, and Mike Nelson, Destroyer of Worlds. The more Genre Savvy sufferers of it keep their It’s Not You, It’s My Enemies speech ready. The Jinx is a lighter version, causing unlucky incidents but rarely deaths. Walking Disaster Area is for when the doom happens to a large number of redshirts around the main character, on a much larger scale, but tends to leave major and supporting characters alone. If locations tend to suffer instead of people, then the hero is a Destructive Savior. Compare and contrast Deus Angst Machina and Trauma Conga Line, if the character in question also suffers from all this doom. If the character literally causes plants to die and the environment to become dark and dreary, it’s a Walking Wasteland.

    Doom Magnet

    “No matter what I do, the ones I love are always the ones who suffer.”
    — Spider-Man

    A character followed by doom and despair. He himself won’t feel the full sting of this cloud of doom. Instead, any character who he knows, is friends with, is related to, or even makes eye contact with, is inevitably doomed to some wretched fate, be it death, or something worse.

    A character like this is usually does one of two things: He either goes about his life, uncaring that this is happening, or he goes about life lamenting about how he can’t stop causing suffering. Basically, a character who always indirectly has collateral damage all around them. Any Hitman with a Heart especially runs the risk of suffering this. Related to Cartwright Curse, and Mike Nelson, Destroyer of Worlds. The more Genre Savvy sufferers of it keep their It’s Not You, It’s My Enemies speech ready. The Jinx is a lighter version, causing unlucky incidents but rarely deaths.

    Walking Disaster Area is for when the doom happens to a large number of redshirts around the main character, on a much larger scale, but tends to leave major and supporting characters alone. If locations tend to suffer instead of people, then the hero is a Destructive Savior.

    Compare and contrast Deus Angst Machina and Trauma Conga Line, if the character in question also suffers from all this doom. If the character literally causes plants to die and the environment to become dark and dreary, it’s a Walking Wasteland.

  9. Sinister Silhouettes Where The Faceless meets Chekhov’s Gunman. It comes in several different flavors, with a common theme. It is an abstract (i.e. not an actual scene) shot of one or more characters, who will eventually be revealed, with said character(s) shown as silhouettes. The background can be anything from bland to suitably ominous, but either way, the Sinister Silhouettes will typically be just standing there in a badass manner. The background music will most likely be ominous. This shot is frequently used to either show that the hidden characters are the kind that you wouldn’t want to mess with unless you were The Hero or Too Dumb to Live, or to depict them as Shrouded in Myth. May be subverted in that the silhouetted person turns out to be not as badass as had been implied. Typically a trope associated with villainous characters, though it being of The Rival is not uncommon. May have rare heroic cases. The delivery can go about in a few ways, but most frequently, Alice could just casually mention the name of the Quirky Miniboss Squad. Bob, however, has never heard of them before, and so Alice goes through the trouble of quickly summarizing what she knows about them. As she does, it cuts to a Team Shot of them as Sinister Silhouettes. Said silhouettes being in intimidating poses is optional. Other methods of presentation include it being shown as part of the Title Sequence or ending credits. Maybe even in an On The Next or Pastel-Chalked Freeze Frame. Compare The Omniscient Council of Vagueness, which is a group of Sinister Silhouettes in an actual, non-abstract scene.

    Sinister Silhouettes

    Where The Faceless meets Chekhov’s Gunman. It comes in several different flavors, with a common theme. It is an abstract (i.e. not an actual scene) shot of one or more characters, who will eventually be revealed, with said character(s) shown as silhouettes.

    The background can be anything from bland to suitably ominous, but either way, the Sinister Silhouettes will typically be just standing there in a badass manner. The background music will most likely be ominous.

    This shot is frequently used to either show that the hidden characters are the kind that you wouldn’t want to mess with unless you were The Hero or Too Dumb to Live, or to depict them as Shrouded in Myth. May be subverted in that the silhouetted person turns out to be not as badass as had been implied. Typically a trope associated with villainous characters, though it being of The Rival is not uncommon.

    May have rare heroic cases. The delivery can go about in a few ways, but most frequently, Alice could just casually mention the name of the Quirky Miniboss Squad. Bob, however, has never heard of them before, and so Alice goes through the trouble of quickly summarizing what she knows about them. As she does, it cuts to a Team Shot of them as Sinister Silhouettes. Said silhouettes being in intimidating poses is optional. Other methods of presentation include it being shown as part of the Title Sequence or ending credits. Maybe even in an On The Next or Pastel-Chalked Freeze Frame.

    Compare The Omniscient Council of Vagueness, which is a group of Sinister Silhouettes in an actual, non-abstract scene.

  10. More Expendable Than You Raine: We’re heading into great danger. We need to decide in advance o whose lives take priority. Regal: I see. That’s the sort of discussion that would likely anger Lloyd. Raine:Lloyd… we must protect him no matter what. — Tales Of Symphonia Standard Job requirement for the Hero Secret Service. A heroic character wants to do something dangerous. Dangerous as in “you might be Killed Off for Real, or at the very least, maimed” peril. His less focused-on (and thus implicitly more disposable) friend (possibly The Atoner) will knock him out and go to do the dirty work himself. Cue the Heroic Sacrifice, or more commonly, Redemption Equals Death. Often preceded by a More Hero than Thou dispute, or deliberately pre-empting such a dispute. Usually part of an Only I Can Kill Him scenario — The Hero is too important to waste on this minor sacrifice preceding the big showdown. Alternatively, it could be needed to avert Shoot the Medic First. Puts the “Cannon Fodder” in We Are Team Cannon Fodder. Contrast Martyr Without a Cause. Death Trope. Spoilers ahoy.

    More Expendable Than You

    Raine: We’re heading into great danger. We need to decide in advance o whose lives take priority.
    Regal: I see. That’s the sort of discussion that would likely anger Lloyd.
    Raine:Lloyd… we must protect him no matter what.
    — Tales Of Symphonia

    Standard Job requirement for the Hero Secret Service. A heroic character wants to do something dangerous. Dangerous as in “you might be Killed Off for Real, or at the very least, maimed” peril. His less focused-on (and thus implicitly more disposable) friend (possibly The Atoner) will knock him out and go to do the dirty work himself.

    Cue the Heroic Sacrifice, or more commonly, Redemption Equals Death. Often preceded by a More Hero than Thou dispute, or deliberately pre-empting such a dispute. Usually part of an Only I Can Kill Him scenario — The Hero is too important to waste on this minor sacrifice preceding the big showdown. Alternatively, it could be needed to avert Shoot the Medic First. Puts the “Cannon Fodder” in We Are Team Cannon Fodder.

    Contrast Martyr Without a Cause.

    Death Trope. Spoilers ahoy.