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gw500
[Fic] GW500 prompt -- Dawn
Title: The Trouble with Memorials
Author: cliosfolly (Merellia)
Rating: PG-13 for language
Pairing: None, really. 02-05 present.
Warnings: Spoilers for the end of Endless Waltz.
Notes: it's been a long time since I felt like writing fic, so please be kind!
Duo knew first light too well, and hated it. It was when objects became distinguishable from the dimness of colony dark, like the rubble of Maxwell Church, still smoking and clattering occasionally as bricks shifted and the light was sufficient to let you see small fingers that had stopped reaching, that would never reach again. It was the time spent waiting for confirmation that a friend, that Heero or Quatre or Hilde had survived the night. It was the best time to bring a mission to a head, G had taught him, because it demoralized an enemy to be awakened into a world that had changed radically for the worse while you slept. Duo despised the slow, soft shades of dawn, the deceptive way they painted the world in the symbolism of rebirth and renewal.
"It's all crap, and I won't do it then," Duo snapped at the other three, crossing his arms and scowling at Quatre.
Quatre leaned forward earnestly, his hair shining brightly under the hospital florescents. Wearing a white shirt and against the pale blue walls and darker upholstery of the private waiting room chairs, he looked especially angelic. Trowa stood at his shoulder like a guardian saint. Duo tried not to sneer at the bullshit imagery. "Duo, it's the perfect time: there aren't a lot of people about to make a spectacle of it, we can be gone before the media arrive, and, cyclically, it makes so much sense--this is the dawn of a new era, so--"
"All except that last piece of shit is just as true of the middle of the night," Duo shot back. "Or noon, or the evening, and it's the place that will prevent people rubbernecking, not the time."
"But time has meaning, Duo," Wufei said from where he sat opposite Duo, on the far side of a small shin-high table scattered over with rumpled, glossy magazines that crawled with animated headlines (Queen of the World Abducted! and A New World Coup? next to Top Ten Gift Gadgets for Your Techie Boytoy). No-one had touched them except to rest coffee cups on their surfaces. While waiting for dawn, while waiting for the next update about Heero’s status. "If we harness that meaning to our actions, they become the stronger for it. It was said by an ancient poet that 'the leaves tremble at dawn,' and how better--"
Duo flung himself out of his chair, glaring at Wufei and his snotty scholar-instructing-the-ignorant-masses tone. "I don't fucking care what some fucking moldy poet who couldn't fly a Gundam if we installed the fucking procedures directly into his brain said about asswiping leaves. I am not destructing 'Scythe at dawn. The sun was fine! The sun was a great idea, boom, big sizzle and no parts around that some idiot might try to salvage. This leaving them on some hillside in smithereens is fuckwittery, and I'm not adding my buddy to it because the timing is meaningful."
"Duo," Trowa said, unwillingly drawing the other pilot's attention to him. "It's like a shrine: here are the relics of the Gundams. People can visit. They can learn from them. The timing enhances the story that people will build."
"And next you're going to say that people can make pilgrimages to them, Tro?" Duo asked scathingly. "And maybe someone'll decide to pray to Heavyarms for intervention when they've done bad? What if they find it fucking inspirational? What if it's not, here lie the evil Gundams, let us learn from them and live in peace, it's I could do it better than that?"
He snorted, and stalked to the door leading towards the patients' rooms. "I still think the sun's the best answer. If you decide to do it on Earth, I'll go along. But not at dawn. Do it in daylight. Here's the end of the Gundams, exposed where everyone can see. Fucking invite the media, for that matter. Install plaques. Just don't mystify it with figurative shit." He jerked the door open. "I'm going to go check on Heero." He slammed the door behind him.
The windows at the far end of the battle trauma unit hallway showed the pale pinks and lavenders of first light reflected off the glass of the hospital tower opposite. An alarm shrilled from one of the patients' monitors and staff ran to it. The light was off in Heero's room. The fucking dawn could just go fuck itself.
Author: cliosfolly (Merellia)
Rating: PG-13 for language
Pairing: None, really. 02-05 present.
Warnings: Spoilers for the end of Endless Waltz.
Notes: it's been a long time since I felt like writing fic, so please be kind!
Duo knew first light too well, and hated it. It was when objects became distinguishable from the dimness of colony dark, like the rubble of Maxwell Church, still smoking and clattering occasionally as bricks shifted and the light was sufficient to let you see small fingers that had stopped reaching, that would never reach again. It was the time spent waiting for confirmation that a friend, that Heero or Quatre or Hilde had survived the night. It was the best time to bring a mission to a head, G had taught him, because it demoralized an enemy to be awakened into a world that had changed radically for the worse while you slept. Duo despised the slow, soft shades of dawn, the deceptive way they painted the world in the symbolism of rebirth and renewal.
"It's all crap, and I won't do it then," Duo snapped at the other three, crossing his arms and scowling at Quatre.
Quatre leaned forward earnestly, his hair shining brightly under the hospital florescents. Wearing a white shirt and against the pale blue walls and darker upholstery of the private waiting room chairs, he looked especially angelic. Trowa stood at his shoulder like a guardian saint. Duo tried not to sneer at the bullshit imagery. "Duo, it's the perfect time: there aren't a lot of people about to make a spectacle of it, we can be gone before the media arrive, and, cyclically, it makes so much sense--this is the dawn of a new era, so--"
"All except that last piece of shit is just as true of the middle of the night," Duo shot back. "Or noon, or the evening, and it's the place that will prevent people rubbernecking, not the time."
"But time has meaning, Duo," Wufei said from where he sat opposite Duo, on the far side of a small shin-high table scattered over with rumpled, glossy magazines that crawled with animated headlines (Queen of the World Abducted! and A New World Coup? next to Top Ten Gift Gadgets for Your Techie Boytoy). No-one had touched them except to rest coffee cups on their surfaces. While waiting for dawn, while waiting for the next update about Heero’s status. "If we harness that meaning to our actions, they become the stronger for it. It was said by an ancient poet that 'the leaves tremble at dawn,' and how better--"
Duo flung himself out of his chair, glaring at Wufei and his snotty scholar-instructing-the-ignorant-masses tone. "I don't fucking care what some fucking moldy poet who couldn't fly a Gundam if we installed the fucking procedures directly into his brain said about asswiping leaves. I am not destructing 'Scythe at dawn. The sun was fine! The sun was a great idea, boom, big sizzle and no parts around that some idiot might try to salvage. This leaving them on some hillside in smithereens is fuckwittery, and I'm not adding my buddy to it because the timing is meaningful."
"Duo," Trowa said, unwillingly drawing the other pilot's attention to him. "It's like a shrine: here are the relics of the Gundams. People can visit. They can learn from them. The timing enhances the story that people will build."
"And next you're going to say that people can make pilgrimages to them, Tro?" Duo asked scathingly. "And maybe someone'll decide to pray to Heavyarms for intervention when they've done bad? What if they find it fucking inspirational? What if it's not, here lie the evil Gundams, let us learn from them and live in peace, it's I could do it better than that?"
He snorted, and stalked to the door leading towards the patients' rooms. "I still think the sun's the best answer. If you decide to do it on Earth, I'll go along. But not at dawn. Do it in daylight. Here's the end of the Gundams, exposed where everyone can see. Fucking invite the media, for that matter. Install plaques. Just don't mystify it with figurative shit." He jerked the door open. "I'm going to go check on Heero." He slammed the door behind him.
The windows at the far end of the battle trauma unit hallway showed the pale pinks and lavenders of first light reflected off the glass of the hospital tower opposite. An alarm shrilled from one of the patients' monitors and staff ran to it. The light was off in Heero's room. The fucking dawn could just go fuck itself.