2005-12-23
(no subject)
Late night, and all the duties were out of the way. The packs were charged and hung up for the night. The containment unit was safely purring away, its generator backup n+2 redundant as he'd been planning for some time. The bedtime reading (Chapter 43: Psychoengrammatic Matrices of Class Seven Full-Form Repeaters) had been done and Ecto was safely asleep. The roster was clear for the next two days. All the duties were done.
He should probably have been sleeping, or at least in bed. Right now, though, the roof had infinitely more appeal.
( In the ink of an eye I saw you bleed / Through the thunder I could hear you scream / Solid to the air I breathe / Open-eyed and fast asleep )
The conversation with Danny was still in his head. The poor kid had been saddled at fourteen with the kind of duty that would've made even Peter Parker go 'ulch'. He'd offered to help, of course- how could he not?- but there'd been something else there that he hadn't quite thought of. Not consciously, anyway. It had been this: if I knew, at fourteen, just how many things out there would one day want to see me dead. . . The thought had only finally surfaced when he'd gotten ready to head home for the night.
( Falling softly as the rain / No footsteps ringing in your ears / Ragged down worn to the skin / Warrior raging, have no fear )
And that, of course, had woken other memories. Mike, to start with- there are ancient, powerful things out there in the dark, I can hear them howling for your blood. . . they tell stories about you, you know. . .
( I’m kneeling down with broken prayers / Hearts and bones from days of youth / Restless with an angel’s wing / I dig a grave to bury you )
The look on Illyria's face when the blue goddess had won her way to the surface- This one recognizes you. Foolish mortal, how many enemies have you made?
( No feet to fall / You need no ground / Allowed to glide right through the sun )
The little demon at the portal in Andrew's world, asking that damned question, again.
( Released from circles guarded tight / Now we all are chosen ones )
Clark Ashton, in the animated continuum, struggling as the cops cuffed his hands behind his back. Fools! You may have won this time, but Cthulhu cannot be destroyed! He waits and dreams in the deep, and the cities of man shall fall before him! And oh, the look of pride and hatred on his face as the NYPD hauled him away. . .
( Secure yourself to heaven )
Morgannon, after the chicken incident. Well, that's it, I suppose. See you soon . . . well, one of you, anyway. Granted, that had been aimed at Peter, and Morgannon had been pleased, but still.
( Hold on tight, the night has come )
The black oil in its magnetic bottling downstairs, stirring when it thought no one was about. Ivo Shandor, in that one New York, snarling with rage and disgust and then all but spitting in surprise as Eddie and the rest came into play.
( Fasten up your earthly burdens )
They had enemies. He had enemies. Beings no one in his family had ever even begun to comprehend- hell, hadn't ever even begun to consider- knew his name, his face, his equipment, probably even his smell-
( You have just begun )
Foolish mortal, how many enemies have you made? He didn't know.
Secure yourself to heaven / (in the ink of an eye I saw you bleed) / Hold on tight, the night has come / (through the thunder I could hear you scream) / Fasten up your earthly burdens / (solid to the air I breathe) / You have just begun / (open-eyed and fast asleep)
What the heck, Danny, I've got enemies in a bunch of different continua so far, what's one more? He'd said that. He'd actually said that. Probably Danny had heard it differently, but the point was that he'd said that and he hadn't even considered it, not really-
Secure yourself to heaven / (no feet to fall, you need no ground) / Hold on tight, the night has come / (allowed to glide right through the sun) / Fasten up your earthly burdens / (released from circles guarded tight) / You have just begun / (now we all are chosen ones)
How the dickens had he gotten himself into this, anyway? Yeah, they'd taken up ghostbusting because there wasn't anything else worth doing, but something in him had wanted to be a hero and it hadn't thought. It just wanted, and only now was it really sinking in just how much that meant.
( Now we all are chosen ones / (secure yourself to heaven) )
They warned you about the hard work when you set out to do something worthwhile, if you were lucky. He really couldn't say he hadn't been warned about that, whether with the 'busting or the Jedi path. If you were lucky, they warned you about the terrible parts- the lonely places where no one knew what you did, where they called you names and swore you were an exterminator or a fraud or a lunatic fanboy. He'd never had a warning about that, but he'd gotten through it, eventually.
( Allowed to glide right through the sun / (hold on tight the night has come) )
It would have been nice, really, if he'd at least been warned about the danger from himself- about the moments when perspective struck with all the force of a cee-sabot.
The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.
So very much was out there, more than he had ever stopped to look at or think about or anything-
The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.
That had a certain amount of appeal to it on some level that he didn't really like to admit to. Partly he wondered whether Mike had made that connection, back before- whether he'd seen or heard enough to drive him over the edge, because the other side of the event horizon was easier to bear than perspective. Lord knew the idea of spending a while with a bucket over his head had a certain appeal right now.
( Released from circles guarded tight )
There was a little bit of wind, a cold bit of air wending its way along the streets and across the rooftops from the direction of the Hudson. It carried very little in the way of smells at this hour of the night, though there was a whiff of horse and hydrocarbon to it. He allowed himself a good, long inhale.
( (fasten up your earthly burdens) )
It occurred to him, then, that all of those things were out there indeed. And that they despised him. Cosmically powerful though they were, or merely capable of making human life miserable on an extremely personal scale, they hated him and his friends- or feared them, or considered them enemies. Not gnats to be batted away, not puling insignificant entities to be ignored like all the rest of the planet's inhabitants- enemies. You took enemies seriously. That was practically built into the definition. They wouldn't be enemies if you didn't have to take them seriously- they'd be minor obstacles cleared away by your lackeys in the first reel on the way to the rest of the movie. And all those things out there, as horrible and powerful and mad and cosmic as they might be- or as tiny and personal and deliberately focused as, say, Mike had been- that was how they saw him, and the others. Enemies.
Let the lord of the Black Land come forth, that justice may be done upon him!
And that. . . was actually kind of cool. Pants-wettingly scary. . . but still cool.
( Now we all are chosen ones. . . )
He smiled then, and stood up, and dusted the inevitable bits of rooftop schmutz from his pyjama bottoms. Then he went downstairs, thinking to sleep, and he did so; and if he did it with his lightsabre under his pillow and his old stuffed Mr. Stay-Puft under one arm, nobody said anything about it the next day.
He should probably have been sleeping, or at least in bed. Right now, though, the roof had infinitely more appeal.
( In the ink of an eye I saw you bleed / Through the thunder I could hear you scream / Solid to the air I breathe / Open-eyed and fast asleep )
The conversation with Danny was still in his head. The poor kid had been saddled at fourteen with the kind of duty that would've made even Peter Parker go 'ulch'. He'd offered to help, of course- how could he not?- but there'd been something else there that he hadn't quite thought of. Not consciously, anyway. It had been this: if I knew, at fourteen, just how many things out there would one day want to see me dead. . . The thought had only finally surfaced when he'd gotten ready to head home for the night.
( Falling softly as the rain / No footsteps ringing in your ears / Ragged down worn to the skin / Warrior raging, have no fear )
And that, of course, had woken other memories. Mike, to start with- there are ancient, powerful things out there in the dark, I can hear them howling for your blood. . . they tell stories about you, you know. . .
( I’m kneeling down with broken prayers / Hearts and bones from days of youth / Restless with an angel’s wing / I dig a grave to bury you )
The look on Illyria's face when the blue goddess had won her way to the surface- This one recognizes you. Foolish mortal, how many enemies have you made?
( No feet to fall / You need no ground / Allowed to glide right through the sun )
The little demon at the portal in Andrew's world, asking that damned question, again.
( Released from circles guarded tight / Now we all are chosen ones )
Clark Ashton, in the animated continuum, struggling as the cops cuffed his hands behind his back. Fools! You may have won this time, but Cthulhu cannot be destroyed! He waits and dreams in the deep, and the cities of man shall fall before him! And oh, the look of pride and hatred on his face as the NYPD hauled him away. . .
( Secure yourself to heaven )
Morgannon, after the chicken incident. Well, that's it, I suppose. See you soon . . . well, one of you, anyway. Granted, that had been aimed at Peter, and Morgannon had been pleased, but still.
( Hold on tight, the night has come )
The black oil in its magnetic bottling downstairs, stirring when it thought no one was about. Ivo Shandor, in that one New York, snarling with rage and disgust and then all but spitting in surprise as Eddie and the rest came into play.
( Fasten up your earthly burdens )
They had enemies. He had enemies. Beings no one in his family had ever even begun to comprehend- hell, hadn't ever even begun to consider- knew his name, his face, his equipment, probably even his smell-
( You have just begun )
Foolish mortal, how many enemies have you made? He didn't know.
Secure yourself to heaven / (in the ink of an eye I saw you bleed) / Hold on tight, the night has come / (through the thunder I could hear you scream) / Fasten up your earthly burdens / (solid to the air I breathe) / You have just begun / (open-eyed and fast asleep)
What the heck, Danny, I've got enemies in a bunch of different continua so far, what's one more? He'd said that. He'd actually said that. Probably Danny had heard it differently, but the point was that he'd said that and he hadn't even considered it, not really-
Secure yourself to heaven / (no feet to fall, you need no ground) / Hold on tight, the night has come / (allowed to glide right through the sun) / Fasten up your earthly burdens / (released from circles guarded tight) / You have just begun / (now we all are chosen ones)
How the dickens had he gotten himself into this, anyway? Yeah, they'd taken up ghostbusting because there wasn't anything else worth doing, but something in him had wanted to be a hero and it hadn't thought. It just wanted, and only now was it really sinking in just how much that meant.
( Now we all are chosen ones / (secure yourself to heaven) )
They warned you about the hard work when you set out to do something worthwhile, if you were lucky. He really couldn't say he hadn't been warned about that, whether with the 'busting or the Jedi path. If you were lucky, they warned you about the terrible parts- the lonely places where no one knew what you did, where they called you names and swore you were an exterminator or a fraud or a lunatic fanboy. He'd never had a warning about that, but he'd gotten through it, eventually.
( Allowed to glide right through the sun / (hold on tight the night has come) )
It would have been nice, really, if he'd at least been warned about the danger from himself- about the moments when perspective struck with all the force of a cee-sabot.
The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.
So very much was out there, more than he had ever stopped to look at or think about or anything-
The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.
That had a certain amount of appeal to it on some level that he didn't really like to admit to. Partly he wondered whether Mike had made that connection, back before- whether he'd seen or heard enough to drive him over the edge, because the other side of the event horizon was easier to bear than perspective. Lord knew the idea of spending a while with a bucket over his head had a certain appeal right now.
( Released from circles guarded tight )
There was a little bit of wind, a cold bit of air wending its way along the streets and across the rooftops from the direction of the Hudson. It carried very little in the way of smells at this hour of the night, though there was a whiff of horse and hydrocarbon to it. He allowed himself a good, long inhale.
( (fasten up your earthly burdens) )
It occurred to him, then, that all of those things were out there indeed. And that they despised him. Cosmically powerful though they were, or merely capable of making human life miserable on an extremely personal scale, they hated him and his friends- or feared them, or considered them enemies. Not gnats to be batted away, not puling insignificant entities to be ignored like all the rest of the planet's inhabitants- enemies. You took enemies seriously. That was practically built into the definition. They wouldn't be enemies if you didn't have to take them seriously- they'd be minor obstacles cleared away by your lackeys in the first reel on the way to the rest of the movie. And all those things out there, as horrible and powerful and mad and cosmic as they might be- or as tiny and personal and deliberately focused as, say, Mike had been- that was how they saw him, and the others. Enemies.
Let the lord of the Black Land come forth, that justice may be done upon him!
And that. . . was actually kind of cool. Pants-wettingly scary. . . but still cool.
( Now we all are chosen ones. . . )
He smiled then, and stood up, and dusted the inevitable bits of rooftop schmutz from his pyjama bottoms. Then he went downstairs, thinking to sleep, and he did so; and if he did it with his lightsabre under his pillow and his old stuffed Mr. Stay-Puft under one arm, nobody said anything about it the next day.