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timepiececlockI started this fic a few months ago, right around the time Entropy was airing. Got through chapter one, then as I frequently do, I lost interest. Probably because it was all about Dawn, and not really about B/S.
But I want to put up a conversation up here, from what would be chapter 3 or so. Sometimes I do that thing where I'm imagining a conversation between characters, and I write out all the dialogue first, and figure I'll fill in the surrounding character actiosn later. Not the best way to write, I'm sure, but sometimes that's how it goes. Anyway, this is like that. All bare-boned dialogue (because it'd be a dialogue-heavy story anyway).
The idea behind the story this would be part of is exploring Dawn's existence as the Key, with the idea that she was created for more than jsut destroying the universe, and that her power didn't disappear on the tower. The fic was going to be a series of dreams; Whistler begins visiting Dawn in her dreams sometime in late season six, and training her. In some ways to be like him, but in some ways more. She doesn't know who he is at first, or that he knew her sister, but in the dreams she begins to learn about herself and her own identity and power. I think one of the reasons I stopped was because I wasn't sure how to write Whistler.
Anyway, here's a piece:
“Good? Bad? I told you: mortal concepts, purely subjective. Your have to open your mind, Kiddo; think beyond what others have always told you.”
“And just listen to way you’re telling me things are?”
“Cute. And annoying. You’ve certainly got the spunk required for this kind of work. But I’m not telling you to do anything against your nature, I’m trying to get you to open your damn mind.”
She ‘harrumphed’ him, sniffing contemptuously. Sometimes there was no helping teenagers. “Maybe I will if you tell me your name.”
“Kid, I can’t even say my own name with human vocal chords. When the time comes you’ll be able to know my name without my help.”
“And you don’t have a nickname? What do people call you?”
He chuckled. “Sorry, Dawnie but it’s not that easy. Yes, I have a human nickname, but telling it to you would stomp all over the whole purpose in you learning to figure it yourself.”
“Well I don’t see what’s so important about hiding it.”
“Sentient beings allow their names to define them, it’s something that can’t be helped. One of the few trappings of individualism. Thus, names are power.”
“You know my name.”
“Yes and no.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“When you’re ready, you’ll know.”
“You’re really enjoying this aren’t you? Don’t think I can’t tell. I’ve been a Slayer’s sister long enough to know that.”
“Being vague is my job, remember? It’s what I’ve done for dozens of millennia, after all. Most of the time I do enjoy it.”
“Maybe I’ll just have Buffy come rip your throat out. Wouldn’t be so cool and serene then, would you?”
He barked a short, sharp laugh. It was almost bitter, “You’re not getting it Dawn. Your sister can’t touch me. Sure, she could tear this body into pieces. So what? It wouldn’t affect me or what I am. I’m beyond physical damage.”
“So you’re divine now? Invincible? I remember the mayor—he thought he was invincible too. The Slayer destroyed him like smashing eggs with a hammer.”
“Or dynamite.”
“What?”
“Oh please, grow up and wake up, Dawn. Wilkins, as you called him, was a once-human sorcerer trying to become a demigod. He was earth-bound, like humans, like vampires, like everything your little Sunnydale band has ever faced. Even Glorificus, trapped in that boy’s frail human body. I’m not divine. Divine doesn’t even factor into what I am. I am a servant of the Powers That Be. I am eyes, I am hands, I am voice. I’m not human, only because I choose not to be. I don’t come from heaven or hell, because heaven and hell are dimensions, constructs of terra-bound beings and any combination of power, magic, and coincidence. I’m not special or holy, or all-powerful. I simply am. All that you see, is what I choose to be. It is what humans perceive, and only that.”
“You’re really saying it then. You’re telling me…you’re trying to say I’m not human either. That I can serve them, be like you, because I am like you. Not human.”
“You are human. Now. And you will continue to be human until you realize a simple truth—You, Dawn, have no limits. The monks gave you a body, made you self-aware. But their spell doesn’t hold you together; it hasn’t held you together since that night on the tower.”
“You think... no. It’s not true.”
“It is. Say it; admit it to yourself.”
“No! I can’t!”
“Yes! You can! Dawn, you have to accept yourself; you have to stop lying to yourself now. You know the truth, just say it.”
“Oh God. It--- it is true then. I’m—I’m the one keeping me here. I’m the one doing the spell.”
“Yes. YES. See, Dawn. Open your mind and see what you are, what you could be. You are free, kiddo, freer than any other thing or any other one in existence. Know yourself.”
But I want to put up a conversation up here, from what would be chapter 3 or so. Sometimes I do that thing where I'm imagining a conversation between characters, and I write out all the dialogue first, and figure I'll fill in the surrounding character actiosn later. Not the best way to write, I'm sure, but sometimes that's how it goes. Anyway, this is like that. All bare-boned dialogue (because it'd be a dialogue-heavy story anyway).
The idea behind the story this would be part of is exploring Dawn's existence as the Key, with the idea that she was created for more than jsut destroying the universe, and that her power didn't disappear on the tower. The fic was going to be a series of dreams; Whistler begins visiting Dawn in her dreams sometime in late season six, and training her. In some ways to be like him, but in some ways more. She doesn't know who he is at first, or that he knew her sister, but in the dreams she begins to learn about herself and her own identity and power. I think one of the reasons I stopped was because I wasn't sure how to write Whistler.
Anyway, here's a piece:
“Good? Bad? I told you: mortal concepts, purely subjective. Your have to open your mind, Kiddo; think beyond what others have always told you.”
“And just listen to way you’re telling me things are?”
“Cute. And annoying. You’ve certainly got the spunk required for this kind of work. But I’m not telling you to do anything against your nature, I’m trying to get you to open your damn mind.”
She ‘harrumphed’ him, sniffing contemptuously. Sometimes there was no helping teenagers. “Maybe I will if you tell me your name.”
“Kid, I can’t even say my own name with human vocal chords. When the time comes you’ll be able to know my name without my help.”
“And you don’t have a nickname? What do people call you?”
He chuckled. “Sorry, Dawnie but it’s not that easy. Yes, I have a human nickname, but telling it to you would stomp all over the whole purpose in you learning to figure it yourself.”
“Well I don’t see what’s so important about hiding it.”
“Sentient beings allow their names to define them, it’s something that can’t be helped. One of the few trappings of individualism. Thus, names are power.”
“You know my name.”
“Yes and no.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“When you’re ready, you’ll know.”
“You’re really enjoying this aren’t you? Don’t think I can’t tell. I’ve been a Slayer’s sister long enough to know that.”
“Being vague is my job, remember? It’s what I’ve done for dozens of millennia, after all. Most of the time I do enjoy it.”
“Maybe I’ll just have Buffy come rip your throat out. Wouldn’t be so cool and serene then, would you?”
He barked a short, sharp laugh. It was almost bitter, “You’re not getting it Dawn. Your sister can’t touch me. Sure, she could tear this body into pieces. So what? It wouldn’t affect me or what I am. I’m beyond physical damage.”
“So you’re divine now? Invincible? I remember the mayor—he thought he was invincible too. The Slayer destroyed him like smashing eggs with a hammer.”
“Or dynamite.”
“What?”
“Oh please, grow up and wake up, Dawn. Wilkins, as you called him, was a once-human sorcerer trying to become a demigod. He was earth-bound, like humans, like vampires, like everything your little Sunnydale band has ever faced. Even Glorificus, trapped in that boy’s frail human body. I’m not divine. Divine doesn’t even factor into what I am. I am a servant of the Powers That Be. I am eyes, I am hands, I am voice. I’m not human, only because I choose not to be. I don’t come from heaven or hell, because heaven and hell are dimensions, constructs of terra-bound beings and any combination of power, magic, and coincidence. I’m not special or holy, or all-powerful. I simply am. All that you see, is what I choose to be. It is what humans perceive, and only that.”
“You’re really saying it then. You’re telling me…you’re trying to say I’m not human either. That I can serve them, be like you, because I am like you. Not human.”
“You are human. Now. And you will continue to be human until you realize a simple truth—You, Dawn, have no limits. The monks gave you a body, made you self-aware. But their spell doesn’t hold you together; it hasn’t held you together since that night on the tower.”
“You think... no. It’s not true.”
“It is. Say it; admit it to yourself.”
“No! I can’t!”
“Yes! You can! Dawn, you have to accept yourself; you have to stop lying to yourself now. You know the truth, just say it.”
“Oh God. It--- it is true then. I’m—I’m the one keeping me here. I’m the one doing the spell.”
“Yes. YES. See, Dawn. Open your mind and see what you are, what you could be. You are free, kiddo, freer than any other thing or any other one in existence. Know yourself.”
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no subject
Date: 2003-02-13 02:59 am (UTC)I really love this part. I liked the whole thing- I think it's stronger than the other snippets you've posted of other fics- but these lines? Love them, a lot. I've never seen Dawn and Whistler interaction before but they have good chemistry. In a way, it reminds me a bit of a (darker) fic I read where Ethan was a sort of Watcher to Dawn. It would be fun to see more, I hope you continue it. I have yet to find a fic exploring Dawn's Keyness in an original and interesting (that last being especially lacking) way and wish more people would write a palatable Dawn. Nice!
Re:
Date: 2003-02-13 08:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-02-13 07:10 am (UTC)I also think you nailed Whistler's voice for the most part. Maybe a couple of more formal words exchanged for more street slang sounding replacements here and there, and it's pretty much perfect. Great balance between zen and snark.
Re:
Date: 2003-02-13 11:38 am (UTC)I like the idea a lot too. I was thinking I could use Dawn to sort of play around with the perception of reality, the idea that you make your own reality or world. Because if you think about it, power wasn't just put into Dawn like it was put into into Buffy to make her the slayer... Dawn was _made_out_of_ the power. And I just think that something like that can't go away, you know? But I like the idea of Dawn being human, having a human soul. It's like-- you take the greatest and most concentrated source of power in the universe, and you give it a human mind. And you give it human experiences to temper it, and human emotions/identity so that in the end it will serve human existence.
So I thought-- that person would be the strongest force in the universe, and someone's got to teach it. Whistler could come to her in dreams, and teach her that way, because it would make her more accepting and also allow her to continue living her life as it was. But the conflict I'm thinking woud be that eventually she'd start to remember the dreams, and the power would start spilling over into Dawn's waking, human life. And then what would that mean for her, or her loved ones?
slang
Date: 2003-02-13 11:41 am (UTC)Re: slang
Date: 2003-02-14 08:02 am (UTC)Re: slang
Date: 2003-02-14 10:37 am (UTC)I was thinking so, too. It's kind of intimidating, but on the other hand its not like someone can really tell me that I "got it totally wrong" either.