Talon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
talonkarrde) wrote2010-06-08 08:01 pm
talonkarrde) wrote2010-06-08 08:01 pm
Entry tags:
Price to Play
"Excuse me," he said politely to the person in front of him. "I'm not sure where I should be going; this is my first time here, I think."
A look of surprise came over her face. "Oh? I didn't know we still had newcomers; I haven't met any in a long time. You're in the wrong line — this one is for those that have already decided where they're going. But it's quite alright - just head over to that counter, and they'll take you through the entire process."
He went as he was directed, looking up at the tall, tall man behind the counter. It didn't look at him.
"Hello, sir. I'm here for...something." He paused, searching his awareness. "A process to be started."
"Everyone is here for something. This happens to be the sorting department. Why do you require sorting? Haven't your experiences taught you enough?" The response was curt, and the giant — a nametag said Gabe — still didn't look at him, though he did shift slightly behind the counter.
"Because," the smaller one said, "I've never done it before."
The reaction was immediate: the giant abruptly bent down, inspecting him carefully, with a look that was more omniscient than piercing. "Well," Gabe said after a bit, and then again, "Well."
"You are new. Come, please, follow me." Without another word, Gabe strode away, leading him through a veritable maze of hallways and intersections, with doors spaced every so often; each door bore a different name. Every once in a while, someone would pass by the pair — an old man missing an eye; a cheerful young woman with an ankh around her neck; a man, brown of skin, with a falcon's head; and a tall, slim man with eyes of madness and a shadow that writhed — and never once was he paid any mind by them.
Finally, the giant stopped in front of another doorway, one bearing a short, four letter word on it, and gestured for the newcomer to head on in.
"End of the line, beginning of the process. You'll have to make a choice and then, well, all of those that we passed in the Crossings will start taking an interest in you, that's for sure. Now, I don't usually give advice...but it's been couple eons since we've had a newcomer, and, well, maybe it will make a difference. So, here: take risks. You'll be back."
With that, Gabe rose to his full height, clapped the young man on the shoulder, and then spread his wings and flew away.
Miles — that's what he decided his name was — watched as the angel flew away, and then stepped through the archway.
The room was dark and close and pulsed faintly; it enveloped him and never seemed to extend more than a few feet to any side, though he kept walking and the walls kept retreating. Eventually, he stopped, and found that two others were there with him. One, he saw, was the light, and the other darkness, and they were in balance, neither overriding the other.
The light spoke first, and it knew his name.
"You are new to this existence, Miles, and so you have a decision to make. You may choose what form you take, what responsibilities you will be given, what burdens you will bear."
The dark continued, "And you will choose what pains you will suffer, how your nights will be spent, what calamities will pass you by."
"What-" he started to ask, and then found his question answered.
"Anything at all," the light said, sinking roots into the ground, stretching above Miles and communicating in patterns of dropped leaves and sunlight peeking through branches. "You could be an oak tree, starting from a seed in the ground, forever growing towards the light, casting a canopy thirty-meters wide and providing a home for tens or hundreds of other species."
"Until the bulldozer comes," the dark continued, twisting into a whirring, mechanical maelstorm, "and sawblades cut your body apart, destroying the shelter that you provide and leaving an ugly scar where you were. But you will feel nothing; you will simply, one day, stop living."
"Or you could be a cat," the light said, stretching out a paw and batting at the air, "and play with humans, and be fed and nourished by them, and enrich their lives when they are feeling down, and be a cherished part of their lives from the time that you are born to the time that you die."
"But you will suffer," the dark responded, and gave Miles the feeling of hunger from not being fed, of pain from being mistreated by owners that saw him as nothing more than a plaything, of terror at being chased by creatures bigger than him and having no one to defend him.
They were feelings that Miles did not envy, and he asked what else he could be, and the light and the dark told him of the millions of shapes that life had taken.
-
And then, finally, they show him what being human was like.
The light smiles at Miles and lets him see visions of a father cradling his newborn daughter for the first time, the love between two octogenarians that have been married for more than half a century, the thrill of a winning goal on a team of underdogs. He shows him the wonder of thousands of people working together to make peace in a war-torn region, and the effects that one good person can have on his community, on history.
And the dark shows him the pain from losing a child to a miscarriage, a misunderstanding between a child and his parents leading to something that tears the family apart. He inflicts upon Miles the pain of losing family members to war, of innocent civilians dying for no reason, and shows him the emptiness that their deaths leave behind. The dark tells him that pain is unavoidable though happiness is far from certain, and that many will live meaningless lives and die in pain, alone, for no reason.
And when they are done, they ask him what his choice will be, and he does not hesitate. There is no amount of pain, he says, that would not make life — and self-awareness — worthwhile. The light and the darkness disappear, and where they were, Miles observes that in the middle of this dark, pulsing, enveloping room, a cell is dividing.
Soon, he knows, it will be him.
A look of surprise came over her face. "Oh? I didn't know we still had newcomers; I haven't met any in a long time. You're in the wrong line — this one is for those that have already decided where they're going. But it's quite alright - just head over to that counter, and they'll take you through the entire process."
He went as he was directed, looking up at the tall, tall man behind the counter. It didn't look at him.
"Hello, sir. I'm here for...something." He paused, searching his awareness. "A process to be started."
"Everyone is here for something. This happens to be the sorting department. Why do you require sorting? Haven't your experiences taught you enough?" The response was curt, and the giant — a nametag said Gabe — still didn't look at him, though he did shift slightly behind the counter.
"Because," the smaller one said, "I've never done it before."
The reaction was immediate: the giant abruptly bent down, inspecting him carefully, with a look that was more omniscient than piercing. "Well," Gabe said after a bit, and then again, "Well."
"You are new. Come, please, follow me." Without another word, Gabe strode away, leading him through a veritable maze of hallways and intersections, with doors spaced every so often; each door bore a different name. Every once in a while, someone would pass by the pair — an old man missing an eye; a cheerful young woman with an ankh around her neck; a man, brown of skin, with a falcon's head; and a tall, slim man with eyes of madness and a shadow that writhed — and never once was he paid any mind by them.
Finally, the giant stopped in front of another doorway, one bearing a short, four letter word on it, and gestured for the newcomer to head on in.
"End of the line, beginning of the process. You'll have to make a choice and then, well, all of those that we passed in the Crossings will start taking an interest in you, that's for sure. Now, I don't usually give advice...but it's been couple eons since we've had a newcomer, and, well, maybe it will make a difference. So, here: take risks. You'll be back."
With that, Gabe rose to his full height, clapped the young man on the shoulder, and then spread his wings and flew away.
Miles — that's what he decided his name was — watched as the angel flew away, and then stepped through the archway.
-
The room was dark and close and pulsed faintly; it enveloped him and never seemed to extend more than a few feet to any side, though he kept walking and the walls kept retreating. Eventually, he stopped, and found that two others were there with him. One, he saw, was the light, and the other darkness, and they were in balance, neither overriding the other.
The light spoke first, and it knew his name.
"You are new to this existence, Miles, and so you have a decision to make. You may choose what form you take, what responsibilities you will be given, what burdens you will bear."
The dark continued, "And you will choose what pains you will suffer, how your nights will be spent, what calamities will pass you by."
"What-" he started to ask, and then found his question answered.
"Anything at all," the light said, sinking roots into the ground, stretching above Miles and communicating in patterns of dropped leaves and sunlight peeking through branches. "You could be an oak tree, starting from a seed in the ground, forever growing towards the light, casting a canopy thirty-meters wide and providing a home for tens or hundreds of other species."
"Until the bulldozer comes," the dark continued, twisting into a whirring, mechanical maelstorm, "and sawblades cut your body apart, destroying the shelter that you provide and leaving an ugly scar where you were. But you will feel nothing; you will simply, one day, stop living."
"Or you could be a cat," the light said, stretching out a paw and batting at the air, "and play with humans, and be fed and nourished by them, and enrich their lives when they are feeling down, and be a cherished part of their lives from the time that you are born to the time that you die."
"But you will suffer," the dark responded, and gave Miles the feeling of hunger from not being fed, of pain from being mistreated by owners that saw him as nothing more than a plaything, of terror at being chased by creatures bigger than him and having no one to defend him.
They were feelings that Miles did not envy, and he asked what else he could be, and the light and the dark told him of the millions of shapes that life had taken.
-
And then, finally, they show him what being human was like.
The light smiles at Miles and lets him see visions of a father cradling his newborn daughter for the first time, the love between two octogenarians that have been married for more than half a century, the thrill of a winning goal on a team of underdogs. He shows him the wonder of thousands of people working together to make peace in a war-torn region, and the effects that one good person can have on his community, on history.
And the dark shows him the pain from losing a child to a miscarriage, a misunderstanding between a child and his parents leading to something that tears the family apart. He inflicts upon Miles the pain of losing family members to war, of innocent civilians dying for no reason, and shows him the emptiness that their deaths leave behind. The dark tells him that pain is unavoidable though happiness is far from certain, and that many will live meaningless lives and die in pain, alone, for no reason.
And when they are done, they ask him what his choice will be, and he does not hesitate. There is no amount of pain, he says, that would not make life — and self-awareness — worthwhile. The light and the darkness disappear, and where they were, Miles observes that in the middle of this dark, pulsing, enveloping room, a cell is dividing.
Soon, he knows, it will be him.
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Seriously, I really like this one.
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I really have to second this comment - this is what I really love about this entry.
And as always, you are full of the most brilliant of ideas.
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...and I've been reading since I was three...and you know just how long ago that was. ;)
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And good, by the way, is still a ways away from great :P
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If you're this GREAT now, imagine how incredible you'll be when you're no longer a toddler! :P
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I want to say that there's a "cool warmth" here, but I don't really understand what that means. I like it, though. A lot.
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