Dollhouse Fic: The Future Is But Once
A couple of days ago I realized that I hadn't posted this yet. My final submission for whedonland's Last Author Standing, it started out much longer than it ended up. When the word count had reached 1104 or so I realized I'd have to make some changes. No one wants to read a 1000+ word story for voting, lol. So out went a couple of scenes and in-betweens; perhaps I'll post the outtakes one day ;)
Title: The Future Is But Once
Rating: G
Character(s): Adelle DeWitt
Word Count: 737
Notes: Won first place in the last round of whedonland's LAS. Thank you so much to everyone who left feedback for this at the Last Author Standing challenge. I was like a cartoon character with hearts for eyes as I read them. I just wanted to bundle them all up and put 'em in my pocket for safekeeping, they were all so wonderful. Thank you ♥
Disclaimer: Dollhouse is not mine.
The sword fell from her fingertips. The clatter of metal against wood reverberated up through her Mary Janes, into her legs, and up her spine.
"I can't do it!"
The moustached face of her drama teacher, Mr. Carson, came into view as he crouched beside her.
"Addie," he sighed. "You're a natural. You're also the only girl who didn't end up stabbing Ms. Reynolds during re-auditions."
A smile tugged at the corners Adelle's lips, but her tear-filled eyes betrayed her true state of mind.
"But all those people. They'll be watching me." She wiped her face with her sleeve. "And anyway, Felicity is the one you really picked. She should be doing this."
"Felicity has a broken arm. You are our young Arthur, Miss DeWitt, whether you like it or not."
Adelle's mind flashed back to that unfortunate moment two days ago. The title of 'Winner of the Twenty-First Annual James Allen's Girls' School Scavenger Hunt' was one object from being Adelle's. That is, until Felicity Kent scampered by her as she made her way to the sparkly box in the middle of the football pitch. As soon as Adelle had realized what was happening she had broken into an outright sprint. It wasn't until she had the box in her hands that she noticed Felicity splayed out on the grass behind her, clutching her arm. She had tripped over an exposed tree root. In the end, Adelle had not only won the scavenger hunt, but after a quick bout of recasting, she'd also won the lead in Year Four's production of The Sword in the Stone. She wasn't too sure what she thought of the latter.
Mr. Carson's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Be confident in your abilities, Adelle. You can do this. Remember: be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."
Adelle rolled her eyes. "Wrong play, Mr. Carson."
Her teacher picked the sword up off the ground and placed it in her hands. "I'm glad you've been paying attention. Now let's start this scene again."
-~-
As a child, I believed in Fate. I believed that each of us had a destiny, a path, be it to greatness or something somewhat less grand. As I grew and matured, the essence of that belief didn't change significantly, though it did become much more convoluted and pessimistic, life's disappointments having crumbled my naive ideals to a fine dust. I learned that Fate was a cruel puppet-master, delighting in the impotent flailing of its feeble-minded pets, watching fascinated as those pets-those clueless little beings-tied themselves up and suffocated in the delusion that they had any control, any say, in the life set before them. Some might have called that defeated, without hope or cure. I called it realistic. But now I realize that such thoughts were far too simple-minded. You see, for the balanced order of Fate to exist, so must Chaos-and Chaos cares not if Fate's pets live or die. With a wiggle of its slender fingers, in the blink of its blind eye, all can be tangled, lost, destroyed. Now, after all that has happened, this is what I know: sooner or later, the strings are cut and we must dance on our own.
- from the archives of Adelle DeWitt, 2067
-~-
As Adelle stepped out beneath the bright sun, into the chaos of a world undone, she surveyed the wreckage wrought by the hubris of lofty minds untethered by consequence and ethics. The group she led from the Dollhouse milled about, waiting for whatever was to come. The pulse hit in the pause between breaths and continued on without haste, the legacy of a mind and heart burdened by its greatness. Adelle looked toward those in her care. They were all in her care now, weren't they? Every soul with mind recaptured, each was now her responsibility.
A glint caught her eye, something sparkling amidst the dirt and decay. She walked toward it, not stopping until it lay before her feet. It was a toy, no doubt cherished by someone at some point in time. She crouched down and stared at it. It was scuffed and dented, and the handle had been gnawed upon by creatures unknown. But between the scars it still shone. She grasped the tiny metal sword in her hand and stood. There was work to be done.
Title: The Future Is But Once
Rating: G
Character(s): Adelle DeWitt
Word Count: 737
Notes: Won first place in the last round of whedonland's LAS. Thank you so much to everyone who left feedback for this at the Last Author Standing challenge. I was like a cartoon character with hearts for eyes as I read them. I just wanted to bundle them all up and put 'em in my pocket for safekeeping, they were all so wonderful. Thank you ♥
Disclaimer: Dollhouse is not mine.
The sword fell from her fingertips. The clatter of metal against wood reverberated up through her Mary Janes, into her legs, and up her spine.
"I can't do it!"
The moustached face of her drama teacher, Mr. Carson, came into view as he crouched beside her.
"Addie," he sighed. "You're a natural. You're also the only girl who didn't end up stabbing Ms. Reynolds during re-auditions."
A smile tugged at the corners Adelle's lips, but her tear-filled eyes betrayed her true state of mind.
"But all those people. They'll be watching me." She wiped her face with her sleeve. "And anyway, Felicity is the one you really picked. She should be doing this."
"Felicity has a broken arm. You are our young Arthur, Miss DeWitt, whether you like it or not."
Adelle's mind flashed back to that unfortunate moment two days ago. The title of 'Winner of the Twenty-First Annual James Allen's Girls' School Scavenger Hunt' was one object from being Adelle's. That is, until Felicity Kent scampered by her as she made her way to the sparkly box in the middle of the football pitch. As soon as Adelle had realized what was happening she had broken into an outright sprint. It wasn't until she had the box in her hands that she noticed Felicity splayed out on the grass behind her, clutching her arm. She had tripped over an exposed tree root. In the end, Adelle had not only won the scavenger hunt, but after a quick bout of recasting, she'd also won the lead in Year Four's production of The Sword in the Stone. She wasn't too sure what she thought of the latter.
Mr. Carson's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Be confident in your abilities, Adelle. You can do this. Remember: be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."
Adelle rolled her eyes. "Wrong play, Mr. Carson."
Her teacher picked the sword up off the ground and placed it in her hands. "I'm glad you've been paying attention. Now let's start this scene again."
-~-
As a child, I believed in Fate. I believed that each of us had a destiny, a path, be it to greatness or something somewhat less grand. As I grew and matured, the essence of that belief didn't change significantly, though it did become much more convoluted and pessimistic, life's disappointments having crumbled my naive ideals to a fine dust. I learned that Fate was a cruel puppet-master, delighting in the impotent flailing of its feeble-minded pets, watching fascinated as those pets-those clueless little beings-tied themselves up and suffocated in the delusion that they had any control, any say, in the life set before them. Some might have called that defeated, without hope or cure. I called it realistic. But now I realize that such thoughts were far too simple-minded. You see, for the balanced order of Fate to exist, so must Chaos-and Chaos cares not if Fate's pets live or die. With a wiggle of its slender fingers, in the blink of its blind eye, all can be tangled, lost, destroyed. Now, after all that has happened, this is what I know: sooner or later, the strings are cut and we must dance on our own.
- from the archives of Adelle DeWitt, 2067
-~-
As Adelle stepped out beneath the bright sun, into the chaos of a world undone, she surveyed the wreckage wrought by the hubris of lofty minds untethered by consequence and ethics. The group she led from the Dollhouse milled about, waiting for whatever was to come. The pulse hit in the pause between breaths and continued on without haste, the legacy of a mind and heart burdened by its greatness. Adelle looked toward those in her care. They were all in her care now, weren't they? Every soul with mind recaptured, each was now her responsibility.
A glint caught her eye, something sparkling amidst the dirt and decay. She walked toward it, not stopping until it lay before her feet. It was a toy, no doubt cherished by someone at some point in time. She crouched down and stared at it. It was scuffed and dented, and the handle had been gnawed upon by creatures unknown. But between the scars it still shone. She grasped the tiny metal sword in her hand and stood. There was work to be done.