Posterity: A Wall-E fanfic
Title: Posterity
Characters/Pairings: A human (with a cameo appearence from M-O)
Rating: G
Warnings: Spoilers for the end of the film
Summery: Not everybody was elated about the Axiom's return to earth...
His first glimpse of earth was… well… less than awe-inspiring. It was dirty, dingy, and dusty. He spied a little robot next to him scrubbing at all the dirt like maniac. He didn’t blame the little guy - this so-called “beautiful,” so-called “home” of his was filthy. Even the air was filthy; it clung to his skin like it trying to snuff the life out of him.
All he wanted was to be back on the Axiom. He wanted life to go back to normal.
Why did he need to farm, when the Axiom would just hand him meals in a cup? Why did he need to clean up all the trash, when the Axiom was perfectly sterile? Why did he need to work, when the Axiom allowed him to lead a life of leisure?
Who came up with this crackpot idea to return to earth anyway?
He was annoyed, and he was tired. Standing upright expended an exceeding amount of energy. He longed to be back in the comfort of his hover chair. He wanted, almost more than anything, to go drive some virtual golf balls on the virtual driving range.
That of course was out of the question because now they had more important things to do. Like saving the planet, or something equally or annoyingly as vague. From what he could see, the planet looked rather unsalvageable, but perhaps this was just a mirage, just an image, that would fizzle away to reveal the lush and gorgeous planet that his mother had told him stories about. Stories that, as they were passed down generation to generation, had been monstrously embellished. This planet was neither lush nor green, by any extent of the imagination.
His relief when the Captain finally ushered them back onto the Axiom was immense. It was short lived. Calling the people to gather one of the decks - Libido, it was called, or something like that - the Captain, whose name he could never remember, began talking about ground rules, and how the re-colonization process was going to work. It was boring. All he wanted was to retreat to his room, to hide in seclusion until these delirious optimists finished blowing their steam.
Time ticked by at a dreadfully slow pace. He sat through speech after speech, proposition after proposition. It was dreadfully dull, woefully dull.
And then finally the captain declared the forum over, and people began walking to their rooms. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t just get the hover chairs working again.
Back in his own room, he called for the robots that usually attended him. They were nowhere to be seen. This raised his ire: the place outside might be filthy, but the travelers on the Axiom didn’t have to assimilate into their environment so completely.
On second thought, perhaps they weren’t travelers anymore.
He didn’t know what inspired him to do it - really, it was just a random impulse - but there was an old, leather-bound trunk that his mother had always kept off limits. As he slowly lifted the lid, particulates spewed into the air, sending him into a fit of coughing. It did not deter him. After the dust settled, he got a better glance of what was in the trunk. There was a book sitting on top of everything else. He reached to pick it up, but as it was a large volume, it was heavier than he expected. Summoning all of his strength, he set it o the floor of his room. He read the title:
A History of World Societies: Complete Edition (Volumes I & II)
There was an image of a very odd looking man on the cover. For some reason it sparked his interest. He opened the cover. A small piece of lined paper fluttered into his lap. He gently picked it up, and read what was written on it:
It has been ten years since I last set foot on planet earth. This voyage was intended to be only a five-year ordeal, and thus I despair that I will never see my home again. Thus I am writing this to you, my daughter, if you are fortunate, and to all of my posterity.
This book has been mine since my freshmen year of high school. World Civilizations I was by far my favourite course that year. It was that year that I discovered the wonders of history. I was fascinated by the innovations of the Egyptians and entranced by the propaganda of Imperial Rome. It was from within this well-read tome that the great figures of history - Augustus Caesar, Queen Elizabeth I, and others - leapt from the page and into my heart.
I hope that you never forget these famous names, these famous places, these epic moments that changed the courses of history. And if, god forbid it, there is a generation borne in space that has never laid eyes on, never set foot on our most beloved planet, then it is even more crucial to tell them the great stories of the resilience and perseverance of the human spirit.
We cannot afford to lose the lessons learned by our ancestors.
All my love,
Holly V.
That evening - he assumed it was evening - the pages flew through his fingers. Though Holly was his mother’s ancestor, who had lived 700 years before him, he was moved by her message. It was a textbook, vaguely like the ones he had used as a child, but it was entrancing. The struggles and successes, the triumphs and the sorrows, it was a fascinating journey to him.
And something else stirred within him. Now he felt the pressing need to protect, to foster this strange planet that was his ancestral home. There were ties here, there was history here. His heart swelled at the thought of seeing his planet renewed to the lushness that millennia of artisans had glorified and eternalized in their work.
What were they waiting for, after all?
Characters/Pairings: A human (with a cameo appearence from M-O)
Rating: G
Warnings: Spoilers for the end of the film
Summery: Not everybody was elated about the Axiom's return to earth...
His first glimpse of earth was… well… less than awe-inspiring. It was dirty, dingy, and dusty. He spied a little robot next to him scrubbing at all the dirt like maniac. He didn’t blame the little guy - this so-called “beautiful,” so-called “home” of his was filthy. Even the air was filthy; it clung to his skin like it trying to snuff the life out of him.
All he wanted was to be back on the Axiom. He wanted life to go back to normal.
Why did he need to farm, when the Axiom would just hand him meals in a cup? Why did he need to clean up all the trash, when the Axiom was perfectly sterile? Why did he need to work, when the Axiom allowed him to lead a life of leisure?
Who came up with this crackpot idea to return to earth anyway?
He was annoyed, and he was tired. Standing upright expended an exceeding amount of energy. He longed to be back in the comfort of his hover chair. He wanted, almost more than anything, to go drive some virtual golf balls on the virtual driving range.
That of course was out of the question because now they had more important things to do. Like saving the planet, or something equally or annoyingly as vague. From what he could see, the planet looked rather unsalvageable, but perhaps this was just a mirage, just an image, that would fizzle away to reveal the lush and gorgeous planet that his mother had told him stories about. Stories that, as they were passed down generation to generation, had been monstrously embellished. This planet was neither lush nor green, by any extent of the imagination.
His relief when the Captain finally ushered them back onto the Axiom was immense. It was short lived. Calling the people to gather one of the decks - Libido, it was called, or something like that - the Captain, whose name he could never remember, began talking about ground rules, and how the re-colonization process was going to work. It was boring. All he wanted was to retreat to his room, to hide in seclusion until these delirious optimists finished blowing their steam.
Time ticked by at a dreadfully slow pace. He sat through speech after speech, proposition after proposition. It was dreadfully dull, woefully dull.
And then finally the captain declared the forum over, and people began walking to their rooms. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t just get the hover chairs working again.
Back in his own room, he called for the robots that usually attended him. They were nowhere to be seen. This raised his ire: the place outside might be filthy, but the travelers on the Axiom didn’t have to assimilate into their environment so completely.
On second thought, perhaps they weren’t travelers anymore.
He didn’t know what inspired him to do it - really, it was just a random impulse - but there was an old, leather-bound trunk that his mother had always kept off limits. As he slowly lifted the lid, particulates spewed into the air, sending him into a fit of coughing. It did not deter him. After the dust settled, he got a better glance of what was in the trunk. There was a book sitting on top of everything else. He reached to pick it up, but as it was a large volume, it was heavier than he expected. Summoning all of his strength, he set it o the floor of his room. He read the title:
A History of World Societies: Complete Edition (Volumes I & II)
There was an image of a very odd looking man on the cover. For some reason it sparked his interest. He opened the cover. A small piece of lined paper fluttered into his lap. He gently picked it up, and read what was written on it:
It has been ten years since I last set foot on planet earth. This voyage was intended to be only a five-year ordeal, and thus I despair that I will never see my home again. Thus I am writing this to you, my daughter, if you are fortunate, and to all of my posterity.
This book has been mine since my freshmen year of high school. World Civilizations I was by far my favourite course that year. It was that year that I discovered the wonders of history. I was fascinated by the innovations of the Egyptians and entranced by the propaganda of Imperial Rome. It was from within this well-read tome that the great figures of history - Augustus Caesar, Queen Elizabeth I, and others - leapt from the page and into my heart.
I hope that you never forget these famous names, these famous places, these epic moments that changed the courses of history. And if, god forbid it, there is a generation borne in space that has never laid eyes on, never set foot on our most beloved planet, then it is even more crucial to tell them the great stories of the resilience and perseverance of the human spirit.
We cannot afford to lose the lessons learned by our ancestors.
All my love,
Holly V.
That evening - he assumed it was evening - the pages flew through his fingers. Though Holly was his mother’s ancestor, who had lived 700 years before him, he was moved by her message. It was a textbook, vaguely like the ones he had used as a child, but it was entrancing. The struggles and successes, the triumphs and the sorrows, it was a fascinating journey to him.
And something else stirred within him. Now he felt the pressing need to protect, to foster this strange planet that was his ancestral home. There were ties here, there was history here. His heart swelled at the thought of seeing his planet renewed to the lushness that millennia of artisans had glorified and eternalized in their work.
What were they waiting for, after all?