shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shadowsong26) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2020-01-31 11:47 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2020-01-31 11:47 pm
Jungle Green #18, Jet Pack Blues #15
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Witness
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Jungle Green #18. Something is watching us/me, Jet Pack Blues #15. I hate the way you say my name, like it's something secret
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (TV Tropes Challenge, with reference to The End of the World as We Know It; Gotta Get Your Head Together; and And Show It to You), tapestry (Jungle Green and Novelty Beads), brush (macabre), stain, novelty beads
Word Count: 1155
Rating: R
Characters: Simon
Warnings: References to war and other apocalyptic events, torture, memory-erasure, Michaela and Lux being...well...them...
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Oh, look, I'm writing some actual Plot/worldbuilding stuff! This takes place in the immediate aftermath of this.
It had been...
He wasn't sure how long it had been since--since Lux had ripped him open and spirited him away from Dr. Lobell and Red Sky.
Days, at least. Enough for the worst of the raw pain to fade.
Which had been--it always hurt, when he remembered, but this time had been worse. Much worse. In part because his mind had already been raw, probably, after weeks with Dr. Lobell trying to figure out how his brain worked.
But mostly because it hadn't been natural, the way the wipes always faded in time; it hadn't been one of his own messages walking him through the worst of it; it hadn't even been Michaela reversing things for some necessity.
It felt--it felt as if she--Lux--had ripped his heart right out of his chest and made him watch.
He shivered, and buried his head in his hands. Hold together. Hold together, you have to think. Now, of all times, you cannot fall apart.
Phobos and Deimos had visibly shifted when he looked up again; it had taken him at least an hour or two to pull himself together.
To a point. It would be weeks before he was steady. He knew that. Even at the best of times--
But something about the whole experience bothered him, worrying at the back of his mind. Lux freeing him from Lobell, and, in a way, from Michaela--she had been angry, but not with him. Something about...something about whatever it was Michaela had sent him there to do.
He couldn't--he couldn't remember what the order had been. Lux had, as she put it, turned off the waterfalls, put his mind back under his control, but it was still raw and echoing.
And then one very important fact cut through the static.
He may not remember the order--might not remember it until he had to execute it; Michaela had a habit of doing that--but he remembered the context. He knew what was coming, and who Dr. Anders was, and her role in it.
This was the Apocalypse.
He'd lived through several, over the centuries. Plagues, famines, wars, massacres--small-scale and large...
But this, this final war between the angelic factions...this was something different. Something more.
He wasn't sure that it would actually undo creation, or even humanity. Humans were resilient. Most species were, more than the angels gave them credit. When the dust settled, the universe and all its peoples would pick themselves up and recreate something from the rubble.
But there was a ways to go before that dust settled. Years, maybe, of Hell on earth. And beyond.
And Michaela had put him right in the middle of things.
Why? he wanted to ask; didn't dare ask; Michaela might hear and put him back there, with Lux and Dr. Lobell and the war closing in around him.
It's already begun, whatever--whatever role I had in instigating this, I played hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. Why put me there now? Was I supposed to keep her away from Lux? No--not as a blank slate; she was curious and she pitied me, but that wasn't enough. Surely, Michaela understands humans at least that much.
...or maybe that was giving Michaela too much credit. In an attempt to be kind, in an attempt to protect a woman who had already suffered so much for the angels' plans, who didn't even know everything she'd endured, to give her something else to focus on, someone with faultlines that were something like her own, that might resonate, even if she couldn't see them yet...
Yes, that was very like Michaela.
He wasn't certain, though. It felt like he was missing some piece of it.
Was I supposed to just...witness this apocalypse? The way I have so many others? But then why put me with Dr. Anders? Why not with the Horsemen, wherever they are? If all I am is a witness...
The world froze around him.
...what use is a witness, unless he knows something? Something secret? Something valuable?
Lux had been buried in his mind, to find out why he was there and give him back his memories in return. If Michaela had known that would happen--if he was bait for Lux, not a shield for Dr. Anders--
Lux had been in his mind.
If she had left something there, some trace of her plans...
That had to be it. Nothing else made sense.
So, that was it, then. He was called into service, one last time--to testify, to be some kind of catalyst for a pyrrhic victory for the angels. Once again. On an even larger, more devastating scale.
Because he had been put into a position where Lux felt like she had to intervene, and then Lux had been buried in his mind.
--just as Michaela had been, time after time after time.
But while Michaela had kept him close, Lux had let him go. She had told him to run. She had promised--
--the same thing Michaela had, centuries ago.
I will guide you out. Nothing but pain waits for you here.
You are offered a new life. Cessation of all your pain. It will be taken away.
You helped me, and you've suffered enough.
You will do some good with your years.
I promise, I will keep you safe.
Keep your head down, and follow. You will be kept safe.
He didn't know all that he knew. Even when the--the aftershocks faded, there were three millennia of memories in a brain that was as much human as angel. Not really built for that kind of storage. He didn't forget, exactly, but sometimes it took him a while to find things.
It had never occurred to him before that Michaela--any of the angels--could leave things behind, not just take them away. But Lux had been concerned about the effect her presence might have on his mind. He'd picked that much up. Which meant other bleedover was at least possible.
And what had he done in the first place? What had been his crime? The reason he had been created?
To be a witness. To testify.
...I don't think Lux realized what she had done, he thought. Or she never would have let me go. But if she does--when she does...
If either of them found him, he would be torn open, for all the things he somehow knew. And then, maybe, it really would be the very undoing of creation.
He had never been able to hide from Michaela before, but he knew, as sure as he knew his name, that he had to learn that now. And fast.
Because he was certain, as he had never been certain before, that he could not let them find him.
He would not let any of the angels use him to end the world.
Story: Witness
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Jungle Green #18. Something is watching us/me, Jet Pack Blues #15. I hate the way you say my name, like it's something secret
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (TV Tropes Challenge, with reference to The End of the World as We Know It; Gotta Get Your Head Together; and And Show It to You), tapestry (Jungle Green and Novelty Beads), brush (macabre), stain, novelty beads
Word Count: 1155
Rating: R
Characters: Simon
Warnings: References to war and other apocalyptic events, torture, memory-erasure, Michaela and Lux being...well...them...
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Oh, look, I'm writing some actual Plot/worldbuilding stuff! This takes place in the immediate aftermath of this.
It had been...
He wasn't sure how long it had been since--since Lux had ripped him open and spirited him away from Dr. Lobell and Red Sky.
Days, at least. Enough for the worst of the raw pain to fade.
Which had been--it always hurt, when he remembered, but this time had been worse. Much worse. In part because his mind had already been raw, probably, after weeks with Dr. Lobell trying to figure out how his brain worked.
But mostly because it hadn't been natural, the way the wipes always faded in time; it hadn't been one of his own messages walking him through the worst of it; it hadn't even been Michaela reversing things for some necessity.
It felt--it felt as if she--Lux--had ripped his heart right out of his chest and made him watch.
He shivered, and buried his head in his hands. Hold together. Hold together, you have to think. Now, of all times, you cannot fall apart.
Phobos and Deimos had visibly shifted when he looked up again; it had taken him at least an hour or two to pull himself together.
To a point. It would be weeks before he was steady. He knew that. Even at the best of times--
But something about the whole experience bothered him, worrying at the back of his mind. Lux freeing him from Lobell, and, in a way, from Michaela--she had been angry, but not with him. Something about...something about whatever it was Michaela had sent him there to do.
He couldn't--he couldn't remember what the order had been. Lux had, as she put it, turned off the waterfalls, put his mind back under his control, but it was still raw and echoing.
And then one very important fact cut through the static.
He may not remember the order--might not remember it until he had to execute it; Michaela had a habit of doing that--but he remembered the context. He knew what was coming, and who Dr. Anders was, and her role in it.
This was the Apocalypse.
He'd lived through several, over the centuries. Plagues, famines, wars, massacres--small-scale and large...
But this, this final war between the angelic factions...this was something different. Something more.
He wasn't sure that it would actually undo creation, or even humanity. Humans were resilient. Most species were, more than the angels gave them credit. When the dust settled, the universe and all its peoples would pick themselves up and recreate something from the rubble.
But there was a ways to go before that dust settled. Years, maybe, of Hell on earth. And beyond.
And Michaela had put him right in the middle of things.
Why? he wanted to ask; didn't dare ask; Michaela might hear and put him back there, with Lux and Dr. Lobell and the war closing in around him.
It's already begun, whatever--whatever role I had in instigating this, I played hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. Why put me there now? Was I supposed to keep her away from Lux? No--not as a blank slate; she was curious and she pitied me, but that wasn't enough. Surely, Michaela understands humans at least that much.
...or maybe that was giving Michaela too much credit. In an attempt to be kind, in an attempt to protect a woman who had already suffered so much for the angels' plans, who didn't even know everything she'd endured, to give her something else to focus on, someone with faultlines that were something like her own, that might resonate, even if she couldn't see them yet...
Yes, that was very like Michaela.
He wasn't certain, though. It felt like he was missing some piece of it.
Was I supposed to just...witness this apocalypse? The way I have so many others? But then why put me with Dr. Anders? Why not with the Horsemen, wherever they are? If all I am is a witness...
The world froze around him.
...what use is a witness, unless he knows something? Something secret? Something valuable?
Lux had been buried in his mind, to find out why he was there and give him back his memories in return. If Michaela had known that would happen--if he was bait for Lux, not a shield for Dr. Anders--
Lux had been in his mind.
If she had left something there, some trace of her plans...
That had to be it. Nothing else made sense.
So, that was it, then. He was called into service, one last time--to testify, to be some kind of catalyst for a pyrrhic victory for the angels. Once again. On an even larger, more devastating scale.
Because he had been put into a position where Lux felt like she had to intervene, and then Lux had been buried in his mind.
--just as Michaela had been, time after time after time.
But while Michaela had kept him close, Lux had let him go. She had told him to run. She had promised--
--the same thing Michaela had, centuries ago.
I will guide you out. Nothing but pain waits for you here.
You are offered a new life. Cessation of all your pain. It will be taken away.
You helped me, and you've suffered enough.
You will do some good with your years.
I promise, I will keep you safe.
Keep your head down, and follow. You will be kept safe.
He didn't know all that he knew. Even when the--the aftershocks faded, there were three millennia of memories in a brain that was as much human as angel. Not really built for that kind of storage. He didn't forget, exactly, but sometimes it took him a while to find things.
It had never occurred to him before that Michaela--any of the angels--could leave things behind, not just take them away. But Lux had been concerned about the effect her presence might have on his mind. He'd picked that much up. Which meant other bleedover was at least possible.
And what had he done in the first place? What had been his crime? The reason he had been created?
To be a witness. To testify.
...I don't think Lux realized what she had done, he thought. Or she never would have let me go. But if she does--when she does...
If either of them found him, he would be torn open, for all the things he somehow knew. And then, maybe, it really would be the very undoing of creation.
He had never been able to hide from Michaela before, but he knew, as sure as he knew his name, that he had to learn that now. And fast.
Because he was certain, as he had never been certain before, that he could not let them find him.
He would not let any of the angels use him to end the world.
no subject
no subject