Not Quite So WIP Wednesday 14
Oct. 26th, 2022 10:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
between_time_and_42Well, it's Wednesday again... and since I've finished Will They Come?, this work isn't REALLY in progress anymore, but at the same time, I do still have a couple little things to add so this sort of counts. Anyway, I've been really wanting to share a little more of it, since I haven't posted any excerpts since I began to work on it. So I thought for today, I'd share the prologue, which sets up the rest of the story. Looking back, I'm actually surprised by how much of the same phrasing I kept from the original draft, as by the end of the story I was pretty much rewriting from scratch.
No one noticed when they first arrived. If they had, they wouldn’t have cared.
The glistening noses of the ships broke through the noxious yellow fumes that now choked the life out of the Earth and all of its inhabitants, passing through the haze as easily as a knife cuts through butter. The ships’ radiant energy turned away the fumes, their passengers breathing without any ill-effects. All hands were on deck and all eyes were below, scanning the barren Earth for signs of vitality.
A ramshackle house stood at the border of what once had been a marvelous city, its two inhabitants lying prone on the floor. They were part of the rare few who had managed to survive the riots and pollution of Planet Earth, but there was no celebrating this fact. According to the date– of which only a handful of people kept track anymore, these people included– this was truly the end. The Earth, its natural resources already exhausted, had finished struggling for a breath and was about to pass on, and those left on its surface would quickly perish. Aware of their fate, the head of the household whispered her last goodbyes into her son’s ear.
“Jack… I love you. I’m so sorry.”
The child to whom she directed her words did nothing but cough. He held onto her, and she cradled him close as if he were still an infant. This wasn’t the way she’d once thought their story deserved to end. But she’d had five years to prepare herself. She’d known what was coming and yet she had brought this child into the world. And now that the end was here, he would suffer from that decision.
Those were the mother’s last thoughts before the sky opened up and the ships came pouring down.
When the mother and her child came to, they were both on board one of the ships, surrounded by many others like them, too many to count. Each passenger was fed nutrients directly into their body, and revived with the first clean oxygen they had breathed in years. As the mother stumbled around on board, she wondered if this was what they called the afterlife.
“Where are we?” she asked aloud, but none of the denizens of Planet Earth had an answer for her.
After a lengthy period of travel, the ships docked on the foreign shores of an unknown, distant land. The mother was among the first to disembark. She scanned the mossy green land in front of her, sloping downwards from the outcrop on which the ships had landed into a stunning valley. A river pulsed and wound its way through the glistening spires of what she could just barely identify as a city. Beyond the early morning mist, a pair of suns rose in the blue-green sky.
The child slipped his hand in hers, and as she turned her attention from her surroundings to his face, she cast aside her questions.
“Where are we?” she'd asked.
We’re home, she wanted to say. Our new home.
*
Time passed. Land was staked out, scavenged, tilled. Bonds were formed and quickly shattered. Control was passed from individual to individual, until it was agreed upon to do away with such pretenses. The city was, for the most part, avoided. Children grew, and as they grew, they asked questions.
“Mommy, where are we?”
“We’re at home, Jack,” his mother replied, certainty saturating her voice. “Where else would we be?”
“But– where’s home?”
“Home is here.” Putting a hand on her son’s shoulder, the mother gestured to the open window and the lush vegetation beyond it. “We live outside a city with no name, on a planet with no name. Here is the only name we have.”
He digested this with the seriousness of a child who didn’t understand what he was being told, but wanted to look like he understood it nonetheless. Then he chose to use his favorite word. “Why are we here?”
“We’re here because we have nowhere else to go,” his mother patiently explained. “We used to live on another planet, but it died. We were brought here by Saviors who came down from the clouds.” She paused, processing his question in full. “Or, if you mean why are we here… We can’t live in the city. It’s too dangerous. So we live outside it instead.”
He nodded, remembering. He was only five Earthly years old, and thus wasn’t able to put most of his past memories in context. But he still recalled the yellow fog, and the glowing green eyes…
Shivering, he hastily moved on to another question.
“Are there other people like us?”
“Yes,” his mother said. “There are many people who chose to live outside the city.”
“Who lives in the city?”
“Bad people,” came the instant reply. “If luck is on our side, we will never come to meet them.”
The words rattled around the boy’s brain, to eventually be internalized. Don’t go to the city. It’s full of bad people. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder, based on what little he knew about how things were meant to be.
“Are you my family?”
“Yes, I'm part of your family.”
“Do you have a family?”
“No.”
“Are there more families in the city?”
The mother sighed. “There are other families, but they’re not our family.”
“What happened to our family?”
“They’re gone, Jack. Everyone else died on Planet Earth, and some died even before that.” Her voice grew softer. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”
Some time later, his mother explained to him where his father had gone. He hadn’t known that he was supposed to have had a father, and listened with rapt attention.
“Your father’s name was Ziggy Stardust. He was a musician– a singer and a songwriter. He used to sing and play guitar. Our relationship didn’t last very long. He died a few days after we met. I found out later that I was pregnant with you. And then I gave birth to you.”
She showed him a large box full of odds and ends, which she’d held onto and brought all the way with her from Planet Earth. Most of the material inside pertained to herself, but there was one scrap of paper that she removed and told him to pay careful attention to. “This is your father, Jack. This is Ziggy.”
Jack’s soft hands touched the wrinkled paper as if it held a kind of magic, his eyes fastened to the face depicted on the page. His father had long, red-orange hair and a circle of glitter painted on his forehead. He was clothed in a snugly-knit jumpsuit, bright with rainbow stripes. A feathery purple scarf completed the look. His mouth was open wide, as if he were yelling, though Jack's mother told him that he had been singing. His eyes were blue to match his son’s, though one was a bit darker than the other. Jack stared at his father’s image for a long, long time, until his mother packed her belongings back up again.
“Mommy, did you love my daddy?”
“No, not ever. I was foolish and young, in all the wrong ways.”
“But you had me.”
“Yes, I had you. And I’m so glad I did.” She stooped to embrace her son. “No matter what happens, I am not letting you go, Jack. I love you.”
He hugged her back. “I love you too, Mommy.”
No one noticed when they first arrived. If they had, they wouldn’t have cared.
The glistening noses of the ships broke through the noxious yellow fumes that now choked the life out of the Earth and all of its inhabitants, passing through the haze as easily as a knife cuts through butter. The ships’ radiant energy turned away the fumes, their passengers breathing without any ill-effects. All hands were on deck and all eyes were below, scanning the barren Earth for signs of vitality.
A ramshackle house stood at the border of what once had been a marvelous city, its two inhabitants lying prone on the floor. They were part of the rare few who had managed to survive the riots and pollution of Planet Earth, but there was no celebrating this fact. According to the date– of which only a handful of people kept track anymore, these people included– this was truly the end. The Earth, its natural resources already exhausted, had finished struggling for a breath and was about to pass on, and those left on its surface would quickly perish. Aware of their fate, the head of the household whispered her last goodbyes into her son’s ear.
“Jack… I love you. I’m so sorry.”
The child to whom she directed her words did nothing but cough. He held onto her, and she cradled him close as if he were still an infant. This wasn’t the way she’d once thought their story deserved to end. But she’d had five years to prepare herself. She’d known what was coming and yet she had brought this child into the world. And now that the end was here, he would suffer from that decision.
Those were the mother’s last thoughts before the sky opened up and the ships came pouring down.
When the mother and her child came to, they were both on board one of the ships, surrounded by many others like them, too many to count. Each passenger was fed nutrients directly into their body, and revived with the first clean oxygen they had breathed in years. As the mother stumbled around on board, she wondered if this was what they called the afterlife.
“Where are we?” she asked aloud, but none of the denizens of Planet Earth had an answer for her.
After a lengthy period of travel, the ships docked on the foreign shores of an unknown, distant land. The mother was among the first to disembark. She scanned the mossy green land in front of her, sloping downwards from the outcrop on which the ships had landed into a stunning valley. A river pulsed and wound its way through the glistening spires of what she could just barely identify as a city. Beyond the early morning mist, a pair of suns rose in the blue-green sky.
The child slipped his hand in hers, and as she turned her attention from her surroundings to his face, she cast aside her questions.
“Where are we?” she'd asked.
We’re home, she wanted to say. Our new home.
*
Time passed. Land was staked out, scavenged, tilled. Bonds were formed and quickly shattered. Control was passed from individual to individual, until it was agreed upon to do away with such pretenses. The city was, for the most part, avoided. Children grew, and as they grew, they asked questions.
“Mommy, where are we?”
“We’re at home, Jack,” his mother replied, certainty saturating her voice. “Where else would we be?”
“But– where’s home?”
“Home is here.” Putting a hand on her son’s shoulder, the mother gestured to the open window and the lush vegetation beyond it. “We live outside a city with no name, on a planet with no name. Here is the only name we have.”
He digested this with the seriousness of a child who didn’t understand what he was being told, but wanted to look like he understood it nonetheless. Then he chose to use his favorite word. “Why are we here?”
“We’re here because we have nowhere else to go,” his mother patiently explained. “We used to live on another planet, but it died. We were brought here by Saviors who came down from the clouds.” She paused, processing his question in full. “Or, if you mean why are we here… We can’t live in the city. It’s too dangerous. So we live outside it instead.”
He nodded, remembering. He was only five Earthly years old, and thus wasn’t able to put most of his past memories in context. But he still recalled the yellow fog, and the glowing green eyes…
Shivering, he hastily moved on to another question.
“Are there other people like us?”
“Yes,” his mother said. “There are many people who chose to live outside the city.”
“Who lives in the city?”
“Bad people,” came the instant reply. “If luck is on our side, we will never come to meet them.”
The words rattled around the boy’s brain, to eventually be internalized. Don’t go to the city. It’s full of bad people. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder, based on what little he knew about how things were meant to be.
“Are you my family?”
“Yes, I'm part of your family.”
“Do you have a family?”
“No.”
“Are there more families in the city?”
The mother sighed. “There are other families, but they’re not our family.”
“What happened to our family?”
“They’re gone, Jack. Everyone else died on Planet Earth, and some died even before that.” Her voice grew softer. “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”
Some time later, his mother explained to him where his father had gone. He hadn’t known that he was supposed to have had a father, and listened with rapt attention.
“Your father’s name was Ziggy Stardust. He was a musician– a singer and a songwriter. He used to sing and play guitar. Our relationship didn’t last very long. He died a few days after we met. I found out later that I was pregnant with you. And then I gave birth to you.”
She showed him a large box full of odds and ends, which she’d held onto and brought all the way with her from Planet Earth. Most of the material inside pertained to herself, but there was one scrap of paper that she removed and told him to pay careful attention to. “This is your father, Jack. This is Ziggy.”
Jack’s soft hands touched the wrinkled paper as if it held a kind of magic, his eyes fastened to the face depicted on the page. His father had long, red-orange hair and a circle of glitter painted on his forehead. He was clothed in a snugly-knit jumpsuit, bright with rainbow stripes. A feathery purple scarf completed the look. His mouth was open wide, as if he were yelling, though Jack's mother told him that he had been singing. His eyes were blue to match his son’s, though one was a bit darker than the other. Jack stared at his father’s image for a long, long time, until his mother packed her belongings back up again.
“Mommy, did you love my daddy?”
“No, not ever. I was foolish and young, in all the wrong ways.”
“But you had me.”
“Yes, I had you. And I’m so glad I did.” She stooped to embrace her son. “No matter what happens, I am not letting you go, Jack. I love you.”
He hugged her back. “I love you too, Mommy.”
no subject
Date: 2022-11-23 12:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-23 08:09 pm (UTC)I've been trying to decide if I should make more changes so that the Venusians have more direct contact with the humans, because I like the idea of the humans knowing next to nothing about their saviors, but I also feel like they probably wouldn't have lasted anywhere near as long as they did if they didn't have any more info about the new planet. Something to consider for future edits, I guess. In this version, anyway, the Venusians sure aren't very communicative, haha.
no subject
Date: 2022-11-23 09:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-11-26 01:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-07 07:26 pm (UTC)