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Probably, the first, the man who engendered the conditions for this phrase (or warning to Evers) to be born: Fall Rhian, with the Pirate Captain, Hephaestus, and the Kingdom Council -> "Only the best Evil can disguise as Good."

I mean, when else have we seen the "appearance versus reality" theme predate the moment Rhian started stringing people along and mucking up Rafal's already filthy reputation via word of mouth (as early as Fall, not even the main series with Rafal's face)? "Rabid Bear Rex" and other tales from the prequel time didn't seem to involve the same level of trickery or disguise, I'm assuming?

And we don't know if "Finola the Fairy-Eater" (one of Lady Lesso's favorites, I think) came along later, during another generation, so the trickery and disguise there could've been inspired by Rhian (not that anyone knew the true outcome of the Great War, but the general notion may've been passed down, about Evil being subtle above all else).

EDIT: I misremembered/made a mistake. Some instances of Evil in disguise did predate Rhian and "Finola the Fairy-Eater" was mentioned in Rise. However, Rhian and the Great War did (of course) have had the most impact and most enduring consequences, compared to those smaller tales with lesser billing, which still leaves the possibility open that the Great War and the uncertain end result of who the victor was might've been the event to coin the phrase (if anyone shared August Sader's theory that the Evil brother won, contrary to popular belief).

Also, does anyone remember who first said that line on disguise? Was it Arthur's advice to first-year Tedros? And another question that remains was whether it was told to Arthur by someone else.

This photo from Pinterest provoked a thought in me:

Light is traditionally characterized as good and celestial while darkness is not. And yet, people find refuge in the darkness, how it can be comforting, as an excess of searing light can be blinding. And that reminded me again of Rafal turning into a shadow and Rhian turning into light towards the beginning of Rise and the subversion, of course. (This is sort of an offshoot from my flame versus non-existent shadow/Pans/eternal youth symbolism post and its companion post.) And of how James reacted to each of the brothers' souls: the reassuring, probably less volatile, unchanging quality to Rafal's and the deep-rooted instability of Rhian's.

The reaching motion in the photo also reminded me of a line from TLEA and how Rhian was foiled in being both extreme, strait-laced Good and extremely and throughly Evil—partly because he expended too much effort every time, and never allowed himself the chance to inhabit a natural state of being.

"The more you chase the light, the more darkness you find."

This also happens to relate to an idea I once heard in a class, that people (in general, not the Woods denizens themselves necessarily) consider Goodness the default state of being because Evil cannot produce any Good of its own, nor can it be anything more than the hollow "ape of Good" (or God, in some contexts). All it can do is imitate Good because it lacks all that Good has (the heavenly virtues? Perchance, think: patience versus restlessness?). And thus, Evil is the perversion of being. It is (was, in Rhian's case, as he had no "healthy" outlets for emotional release or catharsis, unlike Rafal's seemingly instinctual violence) deprived of being and parasitic toward the Good.

Also, have more photos from my Pinterest because why not?

POV: Rhian and Rafal go ice skating

Rafal: Keep up, Rhian. [he clips as he glides past Rhian as if in flight, posture ramrod straight, elbows out, hands tucked behind his back.]

[Rhian stalls at the edge of the lake from where he hadn't yet moved since lacing up his skates.]

Rhian: I still don't think it's a Good idea to skate over the Wish Fish. They're hibernating at this time of year, and the surface is thawing. It may not be safe.

Rafal: [scoffs from afar as he turns round a bend, completing his first circuit.] Safe? That's why I froze it over again.

Rhian: You could've harmed the fish!

Rafal: Don't be daft. I didn't. How could they sense our presence if they're dormant? You told me you wanted to skate, didn't you? Well then, wish granted. [He spun on his heels to skate backwards in a shower of ice chips, flung out both his arms to gesture at the lake below, and leaned into a passive-aggressive, obsequiously low bow, before straightening up again.]

Rhian: [firmly] But not here, not over their rightful home. Besides—you can grovel before me [he pauses] and them for forgiveness, another day. [he snipped primly.]

Rafal: You can't be scrupulous about everything in this world, or you'll never get anything done. Now, are you joining me? I gave my undeserving Nevers and that miserable Humburg a holiday today, so we could get out of the tower. [snidely] Or will I get the pleasure of watching the coward slink away from a challenge once again? It's not a good look for Good, you know.

Rhian: [mutters offhandedly under his breath] Wish you'd learn your lesson...

Rafal: What was that? [he calls back as he approaches Rhian at the edge, beginning to skid to a stop.]

[The ice beneath Rafal gives out in that instant and he falls through, into the pitch dark water, with one last gurgled shout, the fish shimmering under the surface, twinkling back at Rhian, dimming as Rafal kicks up sediment.]

Rhian: Nothing. [he said wide-eyed and guilelessly.]

[Rafal resurfaces, coughing up clouded, brackish water, dragging himself back over the edge of the broken ice, and glares up at Rhian.]

Rafal: [menacingly] Tell me, brother. Whyever would that happen, hmm? [he pressures. Yet, the effect is spoiled as he pulls a wriggling, silver-scaled fish from his jacket pocket and tosses it back into the gaping hole.]

Rhian: [hesitates, lips curling for a moment before he gloats:] Told you as much. The ice was bound to fall through. You never listen.

Rafal: [waves a hand dismissively.] Bah! My spell would've held if it weren't for, for—well, I just know you interfered, somehow.

Rhian: [grins, beside himself with mirth, having swallowed a laugh.] Let's get you inside. [He holds out his gloves as a peace offering to Rafal.]

Rafal: [bats them away into a snowdrift.] Don't need them. I'm cold no matter the weather.

Rhian: Inside and out. [he sighs.] Just when I thought you'd grown out of temper tantrums, you double back with twice the force...

Rafal: Can't expect any better from Evil. [he grins and yanks at Rhian's scarf, causing Rhian to stumble forward. Then, he takes off before Rhian can grab him out of the sky by his coattails, flapping stiffly in the chill like tail feathers.] Last one back's got to deal with the pots! [he crows.] And, they're on strike, again, so you ought to polish them.

Rhian: [breaks into a fervid sprint] RAFAL! YOU OLD CHEAT! I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FIG ABOUT WHO'S BACK FIRST—AND YOU WILL POLISH THEM IF I HAVE TO DRAW MY LAST BREATH TONIGHT!

Rafal: NOT A CHANCE IN THIS CENTURY!

Rhian: THEN I'LL WAIT A MILLENNIUM FOR YOU TO ACT YOUR AGE AND LEARN TO KEEP HOUSE!

Rafal: LIKE I SAID, NOT A CHANCE. [he cackles at the prospect in the distance.]

Rhian: IF YOU THINK THAT'S AMUSING, YOUR EAR CANALS MUST BE FULL OF WATER!

EDIT: I possibly should have included “Calculated, devious, or seductive” and also “Apathetic” somewhere, so those are two further options. The poll only allows twelve options in total.

Rhian, drop your morning/night routine!

Rhian: In the morning, I don't "wake up" like most do. Instead, I simply get out of bed since I'm usually up all night attempting to fall asleep. Repose rarely overtakes me, and my mind's always reeling. I may have to commission a sleeping draught from a witch one day.

At this stage of the morning, Rafal is usually still out cold, and it doesn't matter how loud I am, so I listen to the morning Kingdom Council spellcast reports from a mirror I've ensorcelled at full volume and review the Putsi market trends as I start on my routine.

The Gillikin Gazette's updates about its ongoing cathedral construction are my favorites though—its flying buttresses rival Camelot's dated, heavier Romanesque designs. I only manage to catch those reports on Saturdays though since I have to be out of the tower and on my way at an early hour most days. Oh, and I tend to cast a spell, so my bed makes itself while I busy myself with more important tasks.

Firstly, I need my ermine slippers and silk dressing gown. I shower and usually start with a facial, rosewater, or whichever magical cure-all I'm currently using to remove my under-eye shadows with.

Though, Rafal's been a bother about the cucumbers I go through. He thinks I'll drain the Woods' supply and that he won't have any left for his sandwiches. Mind you, that isn't true in the least.

I use charcoal imported from Akgul to remove impurities of the skin, and that's been rather effective as of late. I also ice my pores, page through Maxine's progress reports, and keep tabs on the lackadaisical performers. Tracking's very important at a School like ours, you know.

On some occasions, I do my own makeup, but really, it seems to me that only the Evergirls care if they notice at all. These days, I've been fond of whipped beetroot tinctures and orchid cologne. Then, I arrange my hair, dress suitably for the day's activities in whichever clothes I pressed the night before, and polish my boots. I polish Rafal's too. He doesn't notice or care—thinks we're immune to disease and scrutiny—but he's missing the point. It's about image, of course. And I worry that he'll bring bird mites from his Stymphs indoors, and that would not only be unseemly for a School Master, but a disaster of inordinate proportions, even if our health isn't at risk. Think of the parent complaints we'd receive, if we had an infestation. The picket-lines would never end!

When I head out, Rafal's almost always still asleep, so I bring us back breakfast, and wake him then.

Well, I say "wake him," but rousing him isn't as simple as I've likely led you to believe. By now, it's turned into an awfully elaborate burlesque. I switch mirror channels to the Jaunt Jolie Music Hall's Cricket and Brass orchestra production of the day. If that fails, I bang a ladle on our breakfast's silver cloche over him. And if all else fails, I shout "FIRE," "INVASION," or even "PIRATES" if I'm desperate and running late, and that does the trick. I still haven't figured out if he's been deluding me though, or if it's his dreams that leave him with those horrid little grins.

Yet, this particular song-and-dance of sorts has been more of a recent development. His clarion-belled alarm clock from Geppetto's broke last month, and he hasn't had the time to replace it. The flight's a day's trip, and this new class of Nevers cannot be left alone for more than a day because he's sure there'll be either an outbreak of some pox or of some general pandemonium since he doesn't think I'm capable of maintaining order. I'm more than capable in truth.

We eat then, he in his pajama shorts and shirt and black stockings with the runs I chastise him about throwing out everyday, and me in my typical smart attire.

At the end, I wash up, sit, and wait for him to set the dishes to scrubbing themselves, comb his hair, and dress. After that, we split off to our respective sides for the day, and I see him again at dusk.

"Bye." or "Morning, brother." is as talkative as he gets at this time of day before he vanishes into the Tunnel of Trees or crosses the Halfway Bridge into the smog, unless he has a storybook victory to congratulate himself over or another point to bolster his side of an argument with—arguments I naively believed we'd already put to bed the night before.

After a full day of overseeing classes, Rafal legs it over the window sill when he returns and showers immediately when he gets back. Then, he grades papers and exams. On days when he's exhausted by puppeteering mock battle raids or Storian knows what he subjects those poor children to, he passes out in bed fully-clothed without showering, and showers in the morning.

All the while, I perform my nightly skin- and hair care routines, snuff out the candles, and get in bed with an eye mask, in my attempt to get a good night's sleep, often sooner than he goes to bed because he reads news updates and whatever musty tome he's tearing through late into the night.

Sometimes, I wake in the middle of a night terror and realize he's still up marking or reading or scheming, so I confiscate the candles at that point and force him to sleep. Rarely does he listen, and I've stopped bothering most of the time as he reads by the light of his fingerglow instead, contrary to all sound advice. He doesn't view sleep as necessary seeing as the Storian sustains us, but he has no sleep troubles, so I suppose that's an easy conclusion to form if you're him. The latest remedy I've resorted to is tucking lavender into my pillowcase, but I've had not a drop of luck.

Quintana: You should be locked up! You are a danger to humanity!

Rafal: [seething with rage] That will never happen.

⸻

200 years later:

Rafal: [indignantly to no one in particular] Hmpth, I chose to lock myself up!

Agatha: [through an air vent, rolling her eyes] You must've gone stir-crazy. Even locked up you still endangered us.

⸻

Post-TLEA:

Dean Sophie: Oh, this old thing? Yes, I renovated everything in the tower—couldn't possibly live in a musty, old cell like Rafal did. I have standards.

@anobody277642 Here is Rafal's "routine." I tried to keep him in character. You can tell me if anything's off.

⸻

Rafal: I haven't had the chance to take my alarm clock in for repairs, so Rhian has been waking me up these past few weeks. I just wish he wouldn't do something as hare-brained as feigning a state of emergency. It's as if he wants me to die young from a heart attack before I finish torturing M-Z of my students. I'd just gotten up to the Q's when Rhian visited Evil. If only Quintana were still under my authority, putting her in a straitjacket would've been the perfect revenge. [He sighs exasperatedly.]

Wait. [He narrows his eyes with suspicion.] I'm sure Rhian's given you some sort of account. And no matter how accurate or misleading it is, why should I give you intel you could use against me? [cloyingly sarcastic] Tell me, would you also like a written timetable to monitor my every move with, pest?

Slightly niche Modern AU Rafal headcanon (Does anyone agree or have a different take?):

I had a random association and now, I'm almost certain Rafal would enjoy Russian doomer music, even solely for its vibes (assuming he is the fantasy equivalent of a Westerner who only speaks a Germanic language because most fairy tales in SGE are the Germanic ones. Honestly, one thing I wonder about, even if we have evidence of Spanish and other accents' existence, is how the Woods as we've seen them are rather monolingual, probably for plot convenience, but that depiction just strikes me as a little strange, like, too deeply suspect that their world is that unified, all by itself—unless the Storian is to blame as usual—maybe we're not meant to allot it any critical thought...), although I've looked up some English translations of this genre's lyrics and they are rather dark, so that fits him fairly well—unless being silent with his thoughts would be preferable.

Yet, one clarification to make: Even if the music might resonate with him, I think he wouldn't be a fatalist until much later in whatever character progression he'd have. Instead, I see him as a doomsday prepper, in probably a more I-will-live-against-all-odds, Western, literally every-man-for-himself, individualist sense as that might be more in line with his character in canon. He'd be obsessed with survivalism and TEOTWAWKI (The End of the World as We Know It) as a concept.

Here is an example of the music I found—I'm not sure if this is actually representative of the whole and I don't know much about it or the historical context though.

Also, here are some English lyrics from various songs under the cut that I just happened to like:

Again the spring has come, And warming rays of sun Are looking in my cell through window-panes Again the heart will ache The feelings will awake And memory recalls auld days

Those days will come to me And I shall feel and see The girl whom I loved so long ago That girl came and left That girl I can’t forget Her image’s always in my soul.

Vladimir prison-house Сold northern wind My transport came from Tver And all my evil deeds Lie on my heart like heavy weights

⸻

Stab me with that stare as i walk by It's like poison in my blood It trips me up just like a stone I'm just sick of people, and they're sick of everything

⸻

My ship is sailing straight ahead, avoiding the land The captain drunk and stubborn He'll protect it till the end Drowning to the right, drowning to the left Not enough lifeboats, there isn't help for everyone Swimming away, I'm swimming away somewhere straight, somewhere away

It’s rare that I find a completely instrumental song that reminds me of Rafal (forewarning: this is an entirely subjective interpretation), so I present to you: "All Night" by Parov Stelar. To me, it seems to track his character progression, Rise through Fall.

It starts out quick; Rafal doesn't spare anyone a second glance aside from Rhian, generally.

A certain part, in which the music speeds up, the tension mounting, conveys a sense of urgency, reflecting the speed of his return, his overpowering need to get back.

It's got creeps of emotion that are ruthlessly quashed, like how Rafal cuts his ties with others, as he suppresses and denies his humanity the right to interfere in what he does for his own sake (and sometimes the balance), and the recursiveness just feels obsessive. The song always returns to the regular and methodical, the walking pattern.

Then, it slows around the midpoint and deepens in pitch, as he genuinely starts to struggle in Fall as his powers start to fail him, while he has a limp, and he obliterates any attachment he feels to almost everyone, only to not win.

How do you think the twins (like all of them in SGE) would act in real life?

I'm not sure if I'm interpreting your question correctly, so you can correct me if I'm wrong! I will take the ask to mean that you'd like to know how I think they would they adjust to our modern world, not necessarily them in a Modern AU. (Also, would you like me to include Castor and Pollux? I'm not sure if I'd have an immediate response for them, but I'll try to think of something, if you'd like me to.)

Sophie and Rise Rhian would probably embrace modern conveniences, and Rhian would likely exhibit more fear than Sophie would, in response to them, or he'd conceptualize things like electricity, for instance, as a just another form of sorcery. They would both appreciate modern cosmetics and technology, and Sophie would probably never want to return to old, backward ways when the future is so pristine and sanitary. Rhian, however, would mourn the great architectural feats of our past and our obsession with pragmatism and designs purely focused on utility. Unfortunately, I could see them being prone to believing absurd, medical/political conspiracy theories, and their germophobia becoming worse.

Agatha, Rafal, TCY Rhian, and Japeth would be more skeptical about modernity, at first, I think. Agatha would probably grow used to it, but continue to live by her old ways and values, in many cases. She might get into environmentalism, humanitarian causes, or antiwar efforts, etc. If either Rafal, Rhian, or Japeth saw a use or benefit to modern technology and ways of life, they would likely adapt, especially if it could get them something they desperately wanted. Rhian would probably use some form of broadcasting or social media frequently—and eventually get cancelled. I could also see Rafal or Japeth trying to radically change or impact the modern world if it provoked them. Japeth could go down the activism route (if it's in regards to his being gay), but I can't see him being that selfless about others' rights, others who have nothing to do with him, and I can't come up with any modern objects or activities that might appeal to him. Maybe, he'd even disavow modern technology, if it proved it weren't a means to getting Aric back. In addition, I could also see Rafal being incredibly rude in commanding voice-operated devices, and refusing to entertain the trivial, human-like gestures machines are programmed to recite, like greetings, and he would rarely use "please" and "thank you" in his commands. He'd have no patience for small talk or manufactured, repetitive, pleasantness because it's just a machine, and he'd be damned if a machine expected more respect from him than any human subordinate ever would! And, he'd get irrationally offended by certain output before he realized why things did what they were preprogrammed to do, such as give simple-minded answers that could appear to be an insult to his intelligence and common sense, as, a machine couldn't know his identity. After all, machines aren't capable of being hostile like Adela Sader was. So, eventually, he'd learn. Also, getting automated or human directions from the bodiless voices of intercom systems, at self-checkout lines, or on public transportation would probably infuriate him because he's so used to being the greatest authority at all times. Why abide the law when you can keep above it?

Rafal, i want to study you like a bug

Like you know those butterfly collections

But less destructive

Put you in a jar maybe

Study your face °^°

~ [☆]

Rafal: [he shuts his eyes for a moment and inhales] This is the exact codswallop I tell Rhian I have to deal with everyday. [He stares forbiddingly.] I will be as unambiguous as possible, so I don’t have to repeat myself. Listen, once, or you’ll rue your existence: I have no interest in indulging that desire of yours. Do not bother me. Study Marialena instead. Squander away your life on something else, for all I care.

[He stalks away, musing to himself.] Never thought I’d see the day Rhian was proven right. I should get a “Keep Out” sign to tap, or perhaps one better: “TRESPASSERS WILL BE KILLED”—wasting my breath on gawkers. Pah.

How do you think Rafal would behave/talk in a highly feverish/delirious physical state?

I have a WIP with this concept in it, but I’m not sure I’ll ever finish it. So, for now, I’ll answer: I think he’d be about the same, but turn more irrational and have a lower tolerance for everything, like a hair-trigger temper, and maybe, not be at his best as far as comprehension or coherency of speech go.

Perhaps, like this:

Rafal: Rhian. The noise down there. Get my students to shut up. I can’t take it. The first person who contributes to my migraine should have their tongue cut out… and be drawn and quartered to a discordant orchestra, so I can’t hear their screams above the music. Usually, I like the screams, but not now. Can’t now. It’s all too harsh. Grates on my nerves. Even without tongues, they’ll sound guttural. [with palpable disgust] But inhuman noise is better—easier to ignore and a reminder that I don’t have to be surrounded by live people.

Rhian: [sighs quietly.]

Rafal: Shame. Didn’t think it’d be you. Hmm, we can use Stymphs instead for your execution, yes? But set it up yourself. I can’t move. And bring me opera glasses. I have to watch, to make sure you do it p- [hacks out a cough] properly. Wake me up when you’re ready to start. And don’t get it wrong—

Marialena is boring

And your hair is shiny

So ye

Rafal i choose you

~ [star here (ipads don’t have the star symbol 😭! I hate using tumblr on diff devices)]

[Horror of all horrors. You've evidently fed into his superiority complex and he knows it:]

Rafal: [suppresses a smirk.] No comment.

I agree with the anon that said they want to study Rafal

He is rather peculiar lmao

(Rafal do you hear that)

I agree with you and the anon.

⸻

Rafal: [wonderingly to himself] ...I don't resent that designation.

Rhian: No murderous ideation?

Rafal: [confirms,] No murderous ideation.

Rhian: For once then. You are peculiar.

Rafal: What does that mean from you?

Rhian: [to his audience] And there we have it. What exactly? An enigma? We'll never know.

Okay since we're on the topic of ur hair

How do you make it so shiny 😭

Magic? Storian? Conditioner? PLEASE TELL ME-

~ [☆]

Rafal: [deadpan] Ah. Of all the questions you could've asked, this is the one you chose? How telling. [His eyes glint with schadenfreude.] A magician never reveals his secrets.

Rafal do you think you could fit in a jar

~[☆]

Rafal: Of course I could. I simply have no need to.

⸻

I was on the fence about this one since we've only seen magic shrink characters in the context of it happening involuntarily, or as magic responding to identity or another source of magic. So, canonically, I have no idea if Rafal could shrink at will.

Thus, you could interpret his response here as lying to save face—if you wanted to.

The other option is picturing a sorcerer-sized jar.

Inspired by @wisteriaum's "dance with death" piece.

I'd love to hear the explanations or thought processes behind your answers.

And yeah, I guess I'm romanticizing/satirizing all this. What about it? /j

Sorry about how weird this question is, but I want to know:

*Basically, I want to know if he’d be hotter with a personality transplant or worse, as a vegetable (like, if he took an ice pick to the frontal lobe without it marring his face), or if what people like most about him is his all-around contempt, cleverness, malice, etc.

Personally, I usually try to keep him in character because his personality is already appealing and interestingly messed-up as it was written. Thoughts?

For a corollary to the last poll: