Drabble-fest: The Seven Ages of Man
Title: The Seven Ages of Man
Characters: All the team plus Martha, Tom, and John from Out of Time
Rating: All ages
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the BBC.
Summary: a suite of drabbles based on Jacques' soliloquy from As You Like It by William Shakespeare. Kindly beta'd by
jbs_teeth.
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
Birth
He sits at his desk, chewing on his biro and trying to find words to put on the card. “Congratulations” isn’t sufficient, and a joke like “See what sex gets you?” is too crass. Besides, neither would go well with the silly quilt they’d all helped make, with yellow and green sponge-painted pterodactyls on the squares.
Eventually, the proper words come in a rush. He wonders why he didn’t think of them earlier:
I wish you all a life of joy. Love always, Jack.
He seals the envelope and mails the package to Martha, Tom, and their newborn son.
Youth
He slouches over the conference table, right across from Toshiko.
...You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me. I may have to love you, but I don’t have to like you.
...Can’t you do anything right? I can’t believe you. You’re as useless as your father, wherever the hell he is.
...Sunshine, when you can pay for it, you can go to the pictures. Money doesn’t grow on trees, and you suck up enough of it in grocery bills.
He has to dig deep into those memories to “reclaim who he was.” He’d buried them for a reason.
Lover
Sweat drips down your brow, both from the heat of the flames and from your terror. You have to get out of here.
Lisa is lying in the conversion unit, screaming, with blood and metal twisted around her. You unhook the wires and cables with a savage sweep of your arm. Her screams die, and for an awful moment you wonder if you’ve killed her. You look into her eyes in a panic and see her looking back at you. She’s trying to not cry for your sake. You drag her away as fast as possible, crying because she doesn't.
Soldier
Toshiko wakes up, takes a shower, and dries off. She puts on her best knickers and bra, stockings with suspenders, and a new dress.
Toshiko doesn’t often wear scandalous knickers to work, but she knows she always feels more confident with them on.
Toshiko dances around her flat instead of walking, eating toast and throwing on high heels and smiling to herself. She sails out the door.
Toshiko knows a frozen soldier dreaming of a kiss from a pretty girl. She daydreams of being the one to kiss him awake. Maybe today she’ll actually do it.
Judge
“You’re right. I am cold and hard. You know why? Because I had Jonah’s mother curse my name for taking her to see her child. I watched a mother reject, then accept, then reject the maimed, crippled creature her son has become. And I do this every day. Do you ever wonder why I didn’t ask Jack if you could join? It’s because I like you, Andy Davidson. I used to be like you. I joined Torchwood and I got broken, and I like you far too much to see you get broken like me-
“Andy, wait, don’t hang up…”
Old Age
“Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?”
“A shot of whiskey might help.”
“I’d have to get out of the car. That will slow this down.”
“Why are you still here?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“If you want to tell me, yes.”
“You’ve already lost everything you had. Your home, your family, your life, your purpose. I’d give you some of that back if I could, but I can’t. The best I can do is make sure you don’t die alone.”
…
“Ianto, can you come around with the SUV…yeah, I know…I’m sorry.”
Death
“I’m scared. I’m really scared, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t eat, I can’t drink, I can’t sleep, I can’t piss, and I can’t screw. What am I supposed to do with my free time? Take up knitting? Oh, wait, I can’t do that either because I only have one good hand. Any suggestions, princess?”
Toshiko lifted her chin. “You can save lives.”
Owen stopped short and turned around.
She continued, saying, “Martha, Jaime, Maggie. And me.”
He stared at her, dumbfounded.
“Someday, Owen, I’ll return the favour. I promise.”
~~~~~~~~
Author's Note: This fic started life as a series of discussions between myself and
jbs_teeth over at the Torchwood Writer's Union about writing Torchwood fic based on classical literary pieces. After an entertaining and thoroughly erudite discussion on pieces such as Faust, Pride and Prejudice, Tristan and Yseult, the Matter of Britain, The Last Temptation of Christ, and Romeo and Juliet, the fic appeared fully-formed in my head like an off-brand Shakespearean fanfic Minerva. I wrote all but the Old Age piece in less than half an hour, tops.
The Seven Ages of Man speech is usually truncated to its first line, "All the world's a stage," and left at that. The remainder, a cynical, bitter stream of thoughts on life, is less often seen. It has appeared in the Whoniverse before (after a fashion) with Girl in the Fireplace, watching the changes in Madame de Pompadour's life through a series of vignettes with the Doctor and culminating with her acting as judge before the clockwork servants. In writing this fic, I chose to try for a whole spectrum of human emotion, from joy to terror to hope to hopelessness, rather than focus on the bitterness spoken by Jacques.
To read the entire soliloquy, go here.
Characters: All the team plus Martha, Tom, and John from Out of Time
Rating: All ages
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the BBC.
Summary: a suite of drabbles based on Jacques' soliloquy from As You Like It by William Shakespeare. Kindly beta'd by
jbs_teeth.
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
Birth
He sits at his desk, chewing on his biro and trying to find words to put on the card. “Congratulations” isn’t sufficient, and a joke like “See what sex gets you?” is too crass. Besides, neither would go well with the silly quilt they’d all helped make, with yellow and green sponge-painted pterodactyls on the squares.
Eventually, the proper words come in a rush. He wonders why he didn’t think of them earlier:
I wish you all a life of joy. Love always, Jack.
He seals the envelope and mails the package to Martha, Tom, and their newborn son.
Youth
He slouches over the conference table, right across from Toshiko.
...You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me. I may have to love you, but I don’t have to like you.
...Can’t you do anything right? I can’t believe you. You’re as useless as your father, wherever the hell he is.
...Sunshine, when you can pay for it, you can go to the pictures. Money doesn’t grow on trees, and you suck up enough of it in grocery bills.
He has to dig deep into those memories to “reclaim who he was.” He’d buried them for a reason.
Lover
Sweat drips down your brow, both from the heat of the flames and from your terror. You have to get out of here.
Lisa is lying in the conversion unit, screaming, with blood and metal twisted around her. You unhook the wires and cables with a savage sweep of your arm. Her screams die, and for an awful moment you wonder if you’ve killed her. You look into her eyes in a panic and see her looking back at you. She’s trying to not cry for your sake. You drag her away as fast as possible, crying because she doesn't.
Soldier
Toshiko wakes up, takes a shower, and dries off. She puts on her best knickers and bra, stockings with suspenders, and a new dress.
Toshiko doesn’t often wear scandalous knickers to work, but she knows she always feels more confident with them on.
Toshiko dances around her flat instead of walking, eating toast and throwing on high heels and smiling to herself. She sails out the door.
Toshiko knows a frozen soldier dreaming of a kiss from a pretty girl. She daydreams of being the one to kiss him awake. Maybe today she’ll actually do it.
Judge
“You’re right. I am cold and hard. You know why? Because I had Jonah’s mother curse my name for taking her to see her child. I watched a mother reject, then accept, then reject the maimed, crippled creature her son has become. And I do this every day. Do you ever wonder why I didn’t ask Jack if you could join? It’s because I like you, Andy Davidson. I used to be like you. I joined Torchwood and I got broken, and I like you far too much to see you get broken like me-
“Andy, wait, don’t hang up…”
Old Age
“Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?”
“A shot of whiskey might help.”
“I’d have to get out of the car. That will slow this down.”
“Why are you still here?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“If you want to tell me, yes.”
“You’ve already lost everything you had. Your home, your family, your life, your purpose. I’d give you some of that back if I could, but I can’t. The best I can do is make sure you don’t die alone.”
…
“Ianto, can you come around with the SUV…yeah, I know…I’m sorry.”
Death
“I’m scared. I’m really scared, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t eat, I can’t drink, I can’t sleep, I can’t piss, and I can’t screw. What am I supposed to do with my free time? Take up knitting? Oh, wait, I can’t do that either because I only have one good hand. Any suggestions, princess?”
Toshiko lifted her chin. “You can save lives.”
Owen stopped short and turned around.
She continued, saying, “Martha, Jaime, Maggie. And me.”
He stared at her, dumbfounded.
“Someday, Owen, I’ll return the favour. I promise.”
~~~~~~~~
Author's Note: This fic started life as a series of discussions between myself and
jbs_teeth over at the Torchwood Writer's Union about writing Torchwood fic based on classical literary pieces. After an entertaining and thoroughly erudite discussion on pieces such as Faust, Pride and Prejudice, Tristan and Yseult, the Matter of Britain, The Last Temptation of Christ, and Romeo and Juliet, the fic appeared fully-formed in my head like an off-brand Shakespearean fanfic Minerva. I wrote all but the Old Age piece in less than half an hour, tops.
The Seven Ages of Man speech is usually truncated to its first line, "All the world's a stage," and left at that. The remainder, a cynical, bitter stream of thoughts on life, is less often seen. It has appeared in the Whoniverse before (after a fashion) with Girl in the Fireplace, watching the changes in Madame de Pompadour's life through a series of vignettes with the Doctor and culminating with her acting as judge before the clockwork servants. In writing this fic, I chose to try for a whole spectrum of human emotion, from joy to terror to hope to hopelessness, rather than focus on the bitterness spoken by Jacques.
To read the entire soliloquy, go here.