Spinning Still -- Shade's NaNo

[Rikku]

I like your writing. ^_^ You know this, but it bears reiterating.

I am happy you can see how things fit together! 'cos that is always awesome, and I am happy to have somewhat explanations, and I now kind of want to eat a sandwich.

[Shadaras]

xD And I like your writing! So it all works out nicely. ^_^

Yes. =D I love being able to see how things work. It makes writing the things themselves easier, as long as I don't forget. And that particular effect of reading that scene amuses me quite nicely. ^_^

[Shadaras]

SPOILER: Click to show

Dr. Doyle waved a hand and walked over to the desk. He leaned against it, and looked at each of them, his grayish eyes sharp and birdlike in their motions. “I’m sure you have classes to go to and reports to study for.” His eyes lingered on Lionel a second longer than the others, and Lionel straightened, meeting the government agent’s eyes without fear. Dr. Doyle smiled a little. “Tell me this, then. What have you learned from those I set you to watch and help?”

None of them spoke for a full minute. Lionel occupied himself during that time by studying the man more closely. Silver sparked his bristly black hair, clustering at his temples. Clean-shaven, strong, broad, features, a solid frame – Lionel suspected most of that mass was muscle from the way his suit fit. Not a man to mess with. The severity and creases of Dr. Doyle’s face confirmed that; they weren’t the marks of a man who laughed and smiled, but rather one who frowned and scowled. Lionel was starting to trace Dr. Doyle’s contributions to Norm research when Augie began to speak.

“I’ve learned that family can destroy a man just as easily as it can create one,” he said softly. “I’ve learned that the Norm isn’t always a good thing, and that it can do bad things to good people, even as it does good things to bad people. I’ve learned that it’s possible to break someone’s heart by taking their work away, not just by taking their family and friends. I’ve learned that, for some people, the act of creation, the art of creativity, is more important than their job. Or,” he said more strongly, more coldly, with his eyes raising from his hands to Dr. Doyle’s eyes, “the Norm.”

Dr. Doyle nodded slowly. “You were studying Dale primarily. Yes, yes. He would have strong opinions. Tell me,” he said, with a smile a tad too forced to feel anything but predatory, “when you changed the Norming given to the Brennans, what was your reason for it?”

Lionel opened his mouth to speak, but August got there first. “You wanted us to study them and try to help them, sir,” he said, voice rushing, heated, heedless. “It’s impossible to do that when they’re Norm-doped enough to hide all vestiges of their personality, or, indeed, anything but their basic motor functions. The nurses doped them until they would agree to anything, and wouldn’t really speak or do anything without prompting.” His cheeks flushed bright red with anger, and his hands clenched. “I honestly don’t think that’s what you want. So we asked for the Norming to be reduced to a palatable level, one where we could work with who they are and were.”

“No need for fury, Augustine.” Dr. Doyle raised a hand, but the smile didn’t change. “I wasn’t making a judgment.”

“Then why did you phrase your question in such a forceful way?” Lionel asked softly. “You could have asked us why we changed the Norm levels, but that formality isn’t what we’re used to here.”

“My apologies, Matthias.” The hand flipped in a vestige of a bow. “I forget, sometimes, that the College and the State are not on the same level when it comes to formality. Now.” His smile dropped. “Augustine, your findings?”

“Aurora...” August sighed and leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “I don’t know. She’s beautiful, sweet, kind – she wants to take care of everyone. But ask her about her husband and she shuts down. I can see the marks on her body. They’re... they’re not pleasant. I can understand why she doesn’t want to talk about him, but I need her to before I can help her, or even learn much of anything that I didn’t already know.”

“Fair.” Dr. Doyle nodded his head. “I did give you what is likely the hardest case of the three. And now, Matthias Lionel, what did you discover from Colleen?”

Lionel laughed. “What did I discover from talking to her? That she’s a wonderful person, very talented, very sensitive, and that she can’t deal with the Norm very well. More interesting is what she inspired me to learn about the Norm, but August says I shouldn’t go into that because it doesn’t really apply here.” He paused, a maniac grin spreading across his face. “Want to hear it anyway?”

Dr. Doyle’s gray eyes sharpened, turning nearly silver. “Yes,” he said, very softly, tone very deadly. “I would.”

Lionel took a deep breath, met those silver-gray eyes, and began to talk. “First things first. I’m not from here. I’m not looking at this information in the same way as any of your wonderful Grebian scientists might. I’m looking it as an alien. An outsider. Someone who came here for the education in more normal matters.” Lionel smiled a bit. “But see, the Norm permeates absolutely everything here. There’s no way to avoid it. I mean, it’s far enough in the background that I didn’t actively notice it until I got assigned to do some stats work for a professor. The stats had to do with the Norm, so I got a crash-course in what the Norm was and why it existed.”

He drummed fingers on the arm of his chair and frowned a little, trying to think of how to phrase the next part. He ignored, very easily, the looks August was giving him. They didn’t matter. At last, he said, “I guess what happened next is the logical extension. I started researching the Norm. Didn’t do that much, what with classes and all, but over the year since then, I got a pretty good idea of what the Norm did and so on. Probably I know more about the Norm than most people who’ve grown up here.” He gave a tight smile. “Then you gave us the Brennans, and things changed. It got a bit more personal. You gave me the opportunity to see what happened to people who were given the Norm, and to go into the research labs where we study the effects of the Norm. It’s very educational.”

“And what did you discover?” Dr. Doyle said, ice and anger equally present in his voice.

Lionel shrugged. “Too many records, for one. Once I got through that mess, I started finding some inconsistencies in history as it’s normally taught and as the preserved records show. Like the Works and the Streets.” Lionel smiled at that, a sweet smile full of malice. “The Works have always been here. The Streets sprang up after the Norm. The Works grew, true, but they were always there. It’s interesting, the way the hierarchy of this city evolved. The smartest people have always taken the center, but you here on the outside believe yourselves to be in control. There are records that suggest you aren’t, though.” He shook his head ever so slightly. “I’d like to visit the Works and see for myself, honestly.”

Dr. Doyle let out a slow breath, and his lips curved up into a smile.

Really, the interesting bit is after that, because I start pulling things together that I've been wanting to get to for ages. And now I can. ^_^

Next step. Magnus again, in Sumati's past. Because it somehow makes sense and I want to show Magnus with people who know who/what he is.

Then probably something more with Lionel? And probably Colleen, since it's been ages since I showed her in this.

Then Sarika or Austin. Maybe Gus or Sumati.

Then we can start drawing it together. The entire cast can gather in one spot for one purpose and I can hold it there. ^_^ I love being able to see the path this needs to take, even if only vaguely. (Even if my phrasings end up being things that only I really understand sometimes. xD)

[Trilly (18426 words)]

I'm looking forward to NaNo being over just so I can read through what everyone's written. ^^ I've said it before, but this story seems like it'll be neat. And you're right, it is nice when things start really coming together and you just know instinctively where the story is going. It makes for fun writing and fun reading. ^__^

[Shadaras]

^_^

I wrote a thousand words today. xD Which is decent, since that was in ~35 minutes.

Magnus likes talking telepathically when he can. This amuses me, for some reason. It also means I don't feel like putting any except here today.

The NaNo word-counter adds about a hundred words to my word-count. Sigh. I should be used to this, but it still bugs me.

...and yes, I know, better that it add some than subtract some, but still. *likes it being accurate more* xD

[Shadaras]

Wrote nearly 5k today to hit 70k. ^_^

SPOILER: Click to show

Some things are best said alone. Magnus slipped around her, though he kept a light touch on her shoulder at the curve where her neck and shoulder met. With that light touch, and a thread of his mind, he pulled her along behind him, giving her no choice but to follow. He was irresistible, and Sumati mentally cursed him for it, knowing full well that the telempath could hear her perfectly if he so chose. From his amusement, he did so choose, and he didn’t particularly mind her stream of half-irritated curses and swears, mostly directed at him.

He led her though the crowd easily; people parted ahead of them like they were just moving with the natural shift and flow, give and take, that crowds have, and didn’t really seem to notice them. Bloody telepath, she sent towards Magnus, not expecting it to be anything more pointed than the general thoughts of hers he read. Can’t just move like normal people do; you’ve got to go and mess with minds to get your way, don’t you? Impossible, you are. Bloody impossible. You could get so much done just with words; you don’t need to manipulate them to get it all done.

But I do, he said in response, sad, surprised, words whispering in her head. They don’t listen, you know. Most people. The Institute – the scorn in his mind flooded her, leaving her stunned for a moment – they’re better about listening than ordinary people, but even here you don’t always hear what’s being said. Think for a moment. Would you hear what I had to say were I not forcing myself upon you?

Sumati looked away from him. She couldn’t quite bring herself to break the physical connection between them, even now that they were in the endless cream-toned corridors of the underground Institute’s halls. Then she said, very quietly, “That depends on what you have to say.”

He stilled, and nodded – though she only felt that, didn’t see it – and turned into a side room. An office, one of many that went unused much of the time. He sat down in a hard metal chair covered with a thin layer of cloth, and gestured to the other chair – a more comfortable wooden one with thin cushions – and said, in a weary tone, “How much do you know about the people of Street and City?”

“From your tone, not enough,” Sumati said before she could think. She blinked, then looked down at her hands. He wasn’t binding her anymore; she could run, go somewhere else, let this go...

His amusement washed over her. “You never have been able to let go of things like this, have you, Su?” It’s one of the things I like about you, his mind said, blending into his spoken words. Now listen. “You walk among them many days, if I’ve read the Institute rightly.” He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously and looking up at the ceiling. The boyish position and careless ease and grace of movement felt very much at odds with his pristine suit and careful, cultured, way of speaking. He ran a hand through his longish hair and grimaced. “What do you hear?”

“Pain.” Sumati sent the emotions through him, letting him read all that she could not speak. “Despair.” She closed her eyes and whispered the last: “Fear.”

He breathed out, slowly, and the echo of pain that touched Sumati brought tears to her eyes before she even noticed. “Exactly,” he said. “But what do you do, once you know all this?”

Sumati didn’t move her eyes from her clasped hands. “Nothing,” she whispered. “Nothing at all.”

And why not? He moved, chair settling back on the ground with a hard thud, and man ghosting whisper-soft around to stand behind her, warm, rough, hands squeezing her shoulders. You have the power to change things, don’t you? Why don’t you? Why do you hide here, in your whispers and webs, spiders not daring the wrath of the flies?

“They aren’t flies,” she murmured, feeling red rage flowing between them, the emotion going both ways. “And yes, we’re spiders, but...” She took a breath, raised her eyes, turned ‘till she could see his solemn face. “We aren’t eating them. We’re just walking the webs of life.”

He studied her, dark eyes seeing more than she wanted them to. “You lost your name to them, Sumati. Your name, your life – they threw you out and sent you here. Are you bitter?”

She smiled. “They sent me home, Magnus.” She reached out to touch his cheek, feeling the prick of barely-there bristles. Through that, she felt something, and her smile turned sad. “Is that something you’ve ever had?” she asked, very quietly, very gently. “A place to call home, with friends and family around you?”

This time, he looked away, and she felt him withdraw, pulling himself back behind shields where she could no longer feel him, and he could no longer touch her.

They stayed that way for longer than she thought possible, before he sighed and straightened, and said, very formally, “Thank you for your time, Sumati. I think I’ll be taking my leave – both of you and this strange, harsh, city – now.” He bowed with a flourish of the hand more suited to a man wearing a hat than one dressed as he, and swept out the door with the arrogant stride that, she knew, was all most people saw.

She sat there a while longer, smiling softly, sadly, to herself, and wishing that they could understand and teach each other more. But that, she knew, would never be possible, for he was a child of the lonesome wandering fields, and she was born to the dirt and grime and drugs of the City she had never left.

[Rikku]

... Half-telepathic conversations are really fun. <3

[Shadaras]

You're just saying that 'cause Magnus. xD

Butyeah, they are. A bit annoying to code into here, but fun to write. ^_^

[Rikku]

xD I was gonna add 'And Magnus of course! <3' but that felt kinda mean to Sumati.

[Shadaras]

xD Well, that excerpt was kind of chosen 'cause Magnus, so... :3

Sumati gets more scenes than Magnus, so Magnus needs more awesome in the scenes he does have. ^_^ It works out.

[Shadaras]

75,079 words.

And done.

The final word is 'Change'.

That suits, I think.

Anyway, the oddness of the epilogue, which is mostly rambling that actually does make sense with the story as a whole, but... this really is an epilogue. The ending of the story comes with the line "It's time to change the world".

But an epilogue fit the feel, and so it was written.

SPOILER: Click to show

The beginning and the end. The weaver and the yarn. What place does one take in a story that is both of one’s own making and yet that one had no part in at all? What does it mean to touch the pieces and set a game in play, yet never have any part to play but that which began it all?

I cannot help but think, when I look upon Grebes, of the plays that have come and gone, the pieces and partners that might-have-been, and I wonder what might have happened had I taken a more active role in the playing of this game. Would it have led to a quicker, more decisive, outcome? Or would it have simply added more tangles to the thread, more complexity to the knot that must be unraveled? It’s hard to say. One can never know the future that may-have-been, no matter how much we may dream and guess.

And so I stand here now, watching as the pawns I put into play years ago finally come into their own, reach the edge of the board and become queens and kings in their own right. There are some things that you can see, if you open yourself and forgo those barriers that most of my kindred place upon their abilities. I understand why they put them there; without guarding yourself, without limiting yourself in some fashion, you hear so much, you feel and understand and know so much about the world around you...

It’s enough to drive one mad.

You’re a god. You’re everyone and everything, and you can change everything so long as it is not physically there – the world in its physicality is not our realm, you see; we rule over only the heart and mind, the soul, one could say, of humanity – and, because you can do all this, you want to. You want to touch and meddle, but that is the truth of madness: you cannot become everyone in the way you must to manage that grand scale of power. It’s simply impossible. You need to be powerful to even attempt it, but only wisdom can save you and show you how you must proceed: you must avoid touching the worldsoul that you see.

You may take information, certainly, but to change it? Only a fool would try to blow a storm out of its course with naught but the breath in his lungs. And that is what it is like, trying to change the worldsoul. No, instead you play with only the power you were born to, and you touch the hearts and minds of those immediately present, and you give them the ability to guide hearts and minds into the channel you wish the storm, the raging river, to follow. And, if you are skilled as well as powerful and wise, you may actually succeed.

I had not expected to succeed with Grebes; it is an old city, and set in its ways by one whose power, I believe, equaled my own. My knowledge of Institute history is ragged at best, but even I learned the stories of Grebeson, many long years ago. It was he who began my own quest, and I have not regretted a thing I do, as it is all in service of the people who cast me out, though they did not call it that, so many years ago...

But I ramble, I fear. Tell me, do you know why I have shown you this story? Taught you the power of changing hearts and minds using only the information I saw in hearts and minds here? I laid no touch of power upon them, this time; I merely observed, and let you see what it is I saw. Yes, I felt all they felt, and more, and I do not tremble beneath it. One person’s emotions, no matter how strong, cannot overwhelm me anymore; I learned, long ago, how to keep even the Streets of Grebes from overwhelming me when I was wide open.

It is a skill more should learn, but few ever will, for few have the patience for such a task.

Perhaps it is for the best. Few should learn the heart of steel and thorns that is necessary to change the world as I have done. You see, the problem with trying to change the world is that it doesn’t like change. People, by their natures, are beings of habit; try to break one or change one and you will understand. Few people realize this consciously, though all know it at some level. This is why we can find the worldsoul if we strive and have the power. And this is why it is so hard to change it; the worldsoul has its own habits, the storm its regular paths, and to change it we must draw deep channels, create powerful winds, and pray to all the gods that we have done what is right.

And then we sit back, and we hope that everything works.

More often than is healthy, it does, and I see the world grow another step closer to the future I’ve dreamt of for it. A future of peace, and of love, and of harmony. I doubt it will get there while I still live, but I do not doubt that one day, even if it is long after anyone now alive is dead, humanity will find its way there.

The habit of love is there, after all. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be able to reach it and use it to manipulate people so easily. It’s just buried more deeply than it should be. All I do is bring it up to the surface and strengthen it. And that, my friend, is all that ever needs doing. Come, now, let us walk on; this story has reached its turning point, and now beings the long process that we call by a name beautifully simple and enormously complex:

Change.

And anyone who wants to read the strangeness that is this story can ask and there's a good chance I'll agree to send it. There's a chance I might forget to, 'course; there's always a chance. If I do something like that, bug me after finals. xD ((Also it is a .docx file unless I find need to resave it as .doc, just so you know.))

Butyeah. I finished, and that makes me happy, though in a quieter way than I think it's been in previous years. But that's okay, that makes sense. And I'll stop rambling now, I suppose; there's not really anything left to say about this story right now.

But. :3 I finished.

And I'm happy about that.

<3

[Rikku]

^_^ I am glad that you are finished. And that I can read it, and that you are happy. (And that Magnus.) And yes. <3 Congratulations.

[Tam]

<3 Congratulations, love. I never doubted you would finish, of course, but it is a beautiful thing that you finished a story you are happy with. Way to go!

[Amneiger]

I haven't read your epilogue because it might spoil things, but congratulations. xD I'll be asking for your NaNo come December, I would think.

[Shadaras]

Rikku-love -- Yes. ^_^

Tamia-dear -- xD I'm happy with most of it, which is about as good as you get for NaNo. I like the story and the ideas and the characters, don't always like the scenes, and am also probably on a happyhigh from finishing still so it's all covered in golden glows.

Amnei -- I don't think it actually spoils anything. xD If I thought it did, I wouldn't have posted it, probably.


And thanks, y'all, for the congratulations. ^_^ <3