ambidextrous-space-samurai:

Oh NO. Had the most horrific thought, my heart is hurting. Thought I’d share.

To preface: So, we entertain the running joke about calling Bruno “Hernando” and “Jorge” when his hood is up/bucket is on – we’re playing along! It’s fun! This was a cute little joke by the screenwriters to show that this is a silly, theatrical, creative man who has definitely gotten a bit more eccentric in his decade of loneliness and solitude – UNDERSTANDABLE. Look at all of us after only 21 months, come on.

The deeper level to it that I also acknowledge is that he assumes aliases to get through the things that scare him, in an intentional way, like hey if it isn’t “Maldito Bruno” sneaking out to the kitchen, spackling the cracks, mixing plaster, etc maybe none of that bad luck will leak out, maybe no one will catch me, maybe it’ll be okay, maybe the fix will stick, maybe it will just go right this time. It’s Hernando, it’s Jorge, they’re brave and they fix things and they DON’T cause bad things to happen.

This is a headspace we see from him with his vision ritual and superstitious tics as well, and it is is a VERY common set of internal rules to be working from when you have OCD. (“If I can do it perfectly, nothing will go wrong” – I go into that in a lot more detail in my post about the mechanics of his visions, which I’m STILL working on bc it’s turning into a gd essay)

BUT.

Are we forgetting that Bruno has grown up USED to being one of three? The triplets are a unit – they each have their strengths and weaknesses, they protect each other, they assume different roles to get through difficult times. Consciously or not, would he not need those roles to be filled in their absence?

We have Pepa – the weather-wielder, bold and brave and terrifyingly tempestuous, always ready to stand in front, be the loudest, take the initiative, defend her family – undaunted in the face of any conflict that might make her gentler siblings shrink.

So we have Hernando, who patches the cracks and is afraid of NOTHING.

We have Julieta – the one who heals wounds with her cooking, warm and kind and calm, steady and supportive and observant and tactile – the glue that keeps the three of them together when her more anxious siblings feel ready to shatter.

So we have Jorge, who makes the spackle meant to heal the cracks in the casita and keep everything from falling apart.

He needs his sisters. So, in their absence, he constructs characters that can take up the mantle of protector, of healer, while he tries to maintain the distance he thinks is necessary to keep his family safe.

It’s just him, of course, fixing things from behind the scenes to try and prevent a future only he has witnessed. And he knows this.

What he doesn’t realize, naturally, is that his sisters need him, too. His foresight, his careful attention to detail, his knack for stories, his unerring kindness and humility, his quiet words of support. They are stronger together, always, and they’ve all been scattered and hurting for so long.

Thank you for this extra level of ANGST GOT DAMMIT