Fanfiction
Aug. 23rd, 2002 10:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tarigwaemirAd Mundo Exteriore,
I'm a ficcing blogger now. If you want to read the parts before, you must either wait until I upload the documents to my website (which will probably take forever) or you can find it on Fanfiction.net, Returning.
TITLE: Returning (8/?)
AUTHOR: Tari Gwaemir
PAIRINGS: 1+6; implied 6+13/13+6, 5+13, 3+4/4+3, 2+1
ARCHIVE: Email me at tarigwaemir@hotmail.com first, but I always say yes.
DISCLAIMER: Gundam Wing doesn’t belong to me, but is owned by Bandai, Sotsu, Sunrise and other big companies, whose names I do not remember. I make no money from this piece of fanfiction, nor do I intend to.
SUMMARY: A Gundam Wing tribute to the narrative style of The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. LeGuin
COMMENTS: Lots of obscure metaphors ahead. If you dislike heavy-handed, unsubtle allegories, avoid this chapter at all costs.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 8: The Exchange
The myth began with this: a young man--no more than a boy, really--fell in love with the sun. But the tragedy began with this: one day, the sun--impossibly, wonderfully and hopelessly--loved him back. In an inadvertent moment, Apollo, that bright-haired, fiery Phoebus, reached out with glowing hands to comb his fingers through the long hair which mimicked so well his own golden rays. The young man, with his large, bewildered, boyish eyes, turned with half-open mouth to the shining sun-god, to be met with caresses and kisses. Intoxicated, he followed Apollo into a reconstructed Eden--racing unclothed with bows and javelins, falling together without shame into beds of soft moss, lost in their warrior world of immortal youth and strength...
But gods bring death when they dally with mortals. The storytellers will tell you that jealous Zephyr, with the rosy, downy cheeks of a young boy, watched with envious, and increasingly despairing, eyes as he hovered at the edges of this changeless Eden. They will tell you that the demi-god of the west wind, his breezes gusting into angry gales, forced his way to where the lovers played at games in the shade of laurel trees and frenziedly flung the sun god's discus toward his beloved's head. The Eden shattered and disappeared. Zephyr flew away into a spiral of madness. And grieving Apollo, bent over his loved one's body, caused a bright red flower to bloom in the flowing blood...
Did you ever wonder why Apollo, the god of light and prophecy, had not the power or the foresight to stop Zephyr's murderous breath?
At first, it was no more than a bright dot on a radar screen, but in a blink of an eye, the dot had become a giant, a Titan. It's a gundam...a new model? It stood, clothed in red armor and carrying a whip, and held out its glowing sword in a wordless challenge that Zechs recognized right away. Without thinking, he rushed forward, his gundam's sword extended for the enemy's throat.
The gundams hurled toward each other, as if they were pulled together by some irresistable force, like yin and yang trapped in one circle. They fought like puppets, mindless and focused, recognizing only their enemy in the sea of data, which threatened to overwhelm and swallow them. Somewhere, in the middle of the tempest, they found the words to link them back to reality.
"Heero Yuy!"
"Zechs!"
Somewhere, somehow, Zechs fought his head clear of the ZERO system's relentless assault on his senses. Why should he fight with this boy? He had returned to protect his kingdom, his childhood home, from a second destruction. He called out to the other gundam, "Heero, you must confirm whether you're an enemy!"
There was no reply. Instead, images passed before his eyes, too quickly for him to fully comprehend what he was seeing. Burning buildings, mobile dolls, explosions...
He rememebered. Those nightmares that had never stopped haunting him had returned with a vengeance. What cruel fate, what ironic destiny, could have made those memories real once more?
The strange new gundam rushed toward him again, taking advantage of his momentary hesitation. In a snap, all of his horror, all of his self-loathing and despair, turned on the unseen figure at the heart of that mobile suit. How...how...but you were there! You, you, let it happen! Even as his gundam leaped forward to meet the attack, he cried in fury and hatred, "If the Sank kingdom has been destroyed, this battle is pointless!"
He clenched his eyes shut, trying to will away the images of destruction that continued to flicker across his screen. But even as he focused on holding back his tears, he could still hear the gundam's blind thirst for victory. He began to smile. "Kill all those who wish to kill me. Is that what you're saying, Wing Zero?"
With a twist of a lever, he was once again the Lightning Count, fighting faster and more furiously than ever. The duel grew frenzied, a bacchanalic whirl instead of the usual measured, calculated waltz. The two pilots felt themselves growing more aroused than ever, meeting attack with parry almost before their conscious minds could register the moment. They screamed at their machines to move faster, wondering how the huge suits of metal could be so impossibly slow, when they could see so much, so quickly, so perfectly...
Then, the gundams stopped. And two exhausted pilots fell from their cockpits.
Heero recovered first, his eyes opening against the basalt pebbles, the sound of crashing waves deafening his ears. He stretched out a hand wearily toward the other pilot, but could not persuade his body to move closer. Instead, he willed himself to sit up and blearily look around.
Zechs groaned and opened his eyes, seeing Heero's brown, tousled head slumped on his knees. He took off his mask, rubbing at spots where it had chafed against his cheeks. He managed to gasp out, despite his aching chest, "Heero? Are we alive?"
Heero glanced at him and stared. His mouth dropped open, but he could not speak.
"Heero?"
"I...I think we are," the boy whispered.
Zechs sat up and looked more closely at the boy. He lifted an eyebrow. Is that a blush on his cheeks?
Heero turned away, his expression blank again. "I never saw you without your mask before."
Zechs tried to smile, but found it too painful. "This is Milliardo Peacecraft's face. Zechs Marquise wears the mask."
"So who are you? Milliardo or Zechs?"
"I tried to be Milliardo. But I think the only person I know how to be right now is Zechs." He settled the mask carefully on his head.
"I've had more than one name before. They used to call me Odin, after my father."
"Your father?"
"Not my real father. I was an orphan. But Odin raised me and named me after himself."
"Ah."
Heero fell silent. They stared out at the sea beyond the cliff. Slowly, Heero edged himself toward Zechs until they sat side by side, their arms around their knees. It was a comfortable silence.
"It seems we both haven't adjusted to these new gundams."
Heero sighed. He got up to his feet and turned, meeting Zechs' eyes with his own. "Epyon told me you're an obstruction to the path I have chosen."
Zechs blinked. "I see."
They could see the lights of approaching planes and carriers. Heero tossed his helmet to Zechs.
"What--"
"I'm taking the Wing Zero. I'll take the dolls coming by sea."
"But the Epyon?"
Heero lowered his eyes and stared thoughtfully at the ground. "Treize built that gundam. I think I don't really understand him well enough to pilot it, though." With that, he dropped silently off the cliff, toward the fallen gundam.
Zechs stared at the helmet in his hands. In his fancy, he thought he could hear the slow whistle of a discus whirling through the air, like the sharp zing of the guillotine or swish of the scythe. I can't escape you. Why can't I escape you? Even now, after casting me out like a used doll, you command me against my will. He stared up at his new mobile suit, running his eyes over its wine-red armor, its scale-like whip. He could almost see Treize turning to face him, his shoulder cape swirling for added dramatic effect, a wine glass in one gloved hand and a rose held out in the other. That aristocratic mouth curving into a charming smile, those deep blue eyes ordering him to accept...
He climbed into the cockpit. Beneath the gundam's foot, a red flower bloomed.
------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTES: Er...Treize is Apollo. Zechs is Hyacinthus. Heero is Zephyr. (It’s supposed to be an awful pun, west wind and wing...yes, I know it’s not funny.) So, Heero delivers the instrument of Zechs’ descent into madness, which is sort of like death. (Well, the death of his sanity, anyway.) Just like Zephyr blowing the fatal discus towards Hyacinthus’ head. But in this case, Treize is the one who is ultimately responsible, since he created the Epyon and intended for Zechs to pilot it. The insinuation is, in this version of the myth, Apollo’s discus killing his poor besotted lover is no accident. And it does make sense. If he’s the god of prophecy, why can’t he tell the future when it matters? (I’m willfully ignoring the Greek belief that no one can escape his or her destiny.)
...Tari
I'm a ficcing blogger now. If you want to read the parts before, you must either wait until I upload the documents to my website (which will probably take forever) or you can find it on Fanfiction.net, Returning.
TITLE: Returning (8/?)
AUTHOR: Tari Gwaemir
PAIRINGS: 1+6; implied 6+13/13+6, 5+13, 3+4/4+3, 2+1
ARCHIVE: Email me at tarigwaemir@hotmail.com first, but I always say yes.
DISCLAIMER: Gundam Wing doesn’t belong to me, but is owned by Bandai, Sotsu, Sunrise and other big companies, whose names I do not remember. I make no money from this piece of fanfiction, nor do I intend to.
SUMMARY: A Gundam Wing tribute to the narrative style of The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. LeGuin
COMMENTS: Lots of obscure metaphors ahead. If you dislike heavy-handed, unsubtle allegories, avoid this chapter at all costs.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 8: The Exchange
The myth began with this: a young man--no more than a boy, really--fell in love with the sun. But the tragedy began with this: one day, the sun--impossibly, wonderfully and hopelessly--loved him back. In an inadvertent moment, Apollo, that bright-haired, fiery Phoebus, reached out with glowing hands to comb his fingers through the long hair which mimicked so well his own golden rays. The young man, with his large, bewildered, boyish eyes, turned with half-open mouth to the shining sun-god, to be met with caresses and kisses. Intoxicated, he followed Apollo into a reconstructed Eden--racing unclothed with bows and javelins, falling together without shame into beds of soft moss, lost in their warrior world of immortal youth and strength...
But gods bring death when they dally with mortals. The storytellers will tell you that jealous Zephyr, with the rosy, downy cheeks of a young boy, watched with envious, and increasingly despairing, eyes as he hovered at the edges of this changeless Eden. They will tell you that the demi-god of the west wind, his breezes gusting into angry gales, forced his way to where the lovers played at games in the shade of laurel trees and frenziedly flung the sun god's discus toward his beloved's head. The Eden shattered and disappeared. Zephyr flew away into a spiral of madness. And grieving Apollo, bent over his loved one's body, caused a bright red flower to bloom in the flowing blood...
Did you ever wonder why Apollo, the god of light and prophecy, had not the power or the foresight to stop Zephyr's murderous breath?
At first, it was no more than a bright dot on a radar screen, but in a blink of an eye, the dot had become a giant, a Titan. It's a gundam...a new model? It stood, clothed in red armor and carrying a whip, and held out its glowing sword in a wordless challenge that Zechs recognized right away. Without thinking, he rushed forward, his gundam's sword extended for the enemy's throat.
The gundams hurled toward each other, as if they were pulled together by some irresistable force, like yin and yang trapped in one circle. They fought like puppets, mindless and focused, recognizing only their enemy in the sea of data, which threatened to overwhelm and swallow them. Somewhere, in the middle of the tempest, they found the words to link them back to reality.
"Heero Yuy!"
"Zechs!"
Somewhere, somehow, Zechs fought his head clear of the ZERO system's relentless assault on his senses. Why should he fight with this boy? He had returned to protect his kingdom, his childhood home, from a second destruction. He called out to the other gundam, "Heero, you must confirm whether you're an enemy!"
There was no reply. Instead, images passed before his eyes, too quickly for him to fully comprehend what he was seeing. Burning buildings, mobile dolls, explosions...
He rememebered. Those nightmares that had never stopped haunting him had returned with a vengeance. What cruel fate, what ironic destiny, could have made those memories real once more?
The strange new gundam rushed toward him again, taking advantage of his momentary hesitation. In a snap, all of his horror, all of his self-loathing and despair, turned on the unseen figure at the heart of that mobile suit. How...how...but you were there! You, you, let it happen! Even as his gundam leaped forward to meet the attack, he cried in fury and hatred, "If the Sank kingdom has been destroyed, this battle is pointless!"
He clenched his eyes shut, trying to will away the images of destruction that continued to flicker across his screen. But even as he focused on holding back his tears, he could still hear the gundam's blind thirst for victory. He began to smile. "Kill all those who wish to kill me. Is that what you're saying, Wing Zero?"
With a twist of a lever, he was once again the Lightning Count, fighting faster and more furiously than ever. The duel grew frenzied, a bacchanalic whirl instead of the usual measured, calculated waltz. The two pilots felt themselves growing more aroused than ever, meeting attack with parry almost before their conscious minds could register the moment. They screamed at their machines to move faster, wondering how the huge suits of metal could be so impossibly slow, when they could see so much, so quickly, so perfectly...
Then, the gundams stopped. And two exhausted pilots fell from their cockpits.
Heero recovered first, his eyes opening against the basalt pebbles, the sound of crashing waves deafening his ears. He stretched out a hand wearily toward the other pilot, but could not persuade his body to move closer. Instead, he willed himself to sit up and blearily look around.
Zechs groaned and opened his eyes, seeing Heero's brown, tousled head slumped on his knees. He took off his mask, rubbing at spots where it had chafed against his cheeks. He managed to gasp out, despite his aching chest, "Heero? Are we alive?"
Heero glanced at him and stared. His mouth dropped open, but he could not speak.
"Heero?"
"I...I think we are," the boy whispered.
Zechs sat up and looked more closely at the boy. He lifted an eyebrow. Is that a blush on his cheeks?
Heero turned away, his expression blank again. "I never saw you without your mask before."
Zechs tried to smile, but found it too painful. "This is Milliardo Peacecraft's face. Zechs Marquise wears the mask."
"So who are you? Milliardo or Zechs?"
"I tried to be Milliardo. But I think the only person I know how to be right now is Zechs." He settled the mask carefully on his head.
"I've had more than one name before. They used to call me Odin, after my father."
"Your father?"
"Not my real father. I was an orphan. But Odin raised me and named me after himself."
"Ah."
Heero fell silent. They stared out at the sea beyond the cliff. Slowly, Heero edged himself toward Zechs until they sat side by side, their arms around their knees. It was a comfortable silence.
"It seems we both haven't adjusted to these new gundams."
Heero sighed. He got up to his feet and turned, meeting Zechs' eyes with his own. "Epyon told me you're an obstruction to the path I have chosen."
Zechs blinked. "I see."
They could see the lights of approaching planes and carriers. Heero tossed his helmet to Zechs.
"What--"
"I'm taking the Wing Zero. I'll take the dolls coming by sea."
"But the Epyon?"
Heero lowered his eyes and stared thoughtfully at the ground. "Treize built that gundam. I think I don't really understand him well enough to pilot it, though." With that, he dropped silently off the cliff, toward the fallen gundam.
Zechs stared at the helmet in his hands. In his fancy, he thought he could hear the slow whistle of a discus whirling through the air, like the sharp zing of the guillotine or swish of the scythe. I can't escape you. Why can't I escape you? Even now, after casting me out like a used doll, you command me against my will. He stared up at his new mobile suit, running his eyes over its wine-red armor, its scale-like whip. He could almost see Treize turning to face him, his shoulder cape swirling for added dramatic effect, a wine glass in one gloved hand and a rose held out in the other. That aristocratic mouth curving into a charming smile, those deep blue eyes ordering him to accept...
He climbed into the cockpit. Beneath the gundam's foot, a red flower bloomed.
------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTES: Er...Treize is Apollo. Zechs is Hyacinthus. Heero is Zephyr. (It’s supposed to be an awful pun, west wind and wing...yes, I know it’s not funny.) So, Heero delivers the instrument of Zechs’ descent into madness, which is sort of like death. (Well, the death of his sanity, anyway.) Just like Zephyr blowing the fatal discus towards Hyacinthus’ head. But in this case, Treize is the one who is ultimately responsible, since he created the Epyon and intended for Zechs to pilot it. The insinuation is, in this version of the myth, Apollo’s discus killing his poor besotted lover is no accident. And it does make sense. If he’s the god of prophecy, why can’t he tell the future when it matters? (I’m willfully ignoring the Greek belief that no one can escape his or her destiny.)
...Tari
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(no subject)
Date: 2002-09-29 03:21 pm (UTC)*squeals ear-splittingly*
and I like the 6+13 stuff. *sniffles* You wouldn't consider writing more of that, would you?
and, yeah. I like this chapter very much--no criticisms, really. Maybe a couple of word-choice things--like Zephyr's "murderous breath." I like the description very much otherwise, but the idea of anybody having murderous breath makes me laugh. Also it reminds me unpleasantly of Robert. *shudders* Ugh.
He could almost see Treize turning to face him, his shoulder cape swirling for added dramatic effect, a wine glass in one gloved hand and a rose held out in the other. That aristocratic mouth curving into a charming smile, those deep blue eyes ordering him to accept...
*starts sniffling again* I like that; I like your Zechs very much in general. I think you've almost convinced me to look into 13x6 again. My only criticism: "ordering him to accept"--accept what? I'm sorry if I'm being pedantic; I thought this chapter was very good, but you asked for constructive criticism.
sorry this took me so long.
(no subject)
Hm...on second reading you're right. "Murderous breath" sounds rather ridiculous. I got a bit carried away with the lavish descriptiveness here, wasn't I? Will edit soon.
As for the "ordering him to accept" I thought that was fairly obvious: it's the gundam of course. I mean, he's staring at Epyon, and this image of Treize pops up in his mind...well, if it seems obscure, I should do something about that, neh?
Danke, Lyd-chan. Now go read part 9. ^_^
...Tari