Divine Contemplation
Nov. 8th, 2001 11:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilascaveA prologue snippet of an Angel AU plot bunny. Some of you may recognise. I'm not writing fic, by the way. I'm working. I'm at work, right? Ergo, working. :-)
He sits in a chair in the dark. He's alone, no prospect of anyone stopping by or calling. He's alone, as alone as he ever gets. The thoughts in his head never still, and he can always hear the noise from through the window, through the doorway.
He doesn't mind. He's had long enough to get used to it.
He thinks about getting out of his chair. Leaving the room, going out into the world. Seeing people, doing...something. Anything, it wouldn't really matter what.
In fact, he knows exactly how much it wouldn't matter. He smiles at the thought. Tonight, it doesn't bother him. Instead he thinks about sitting in the dark and contemplating doing something. He could go out and find some injustice to fight, some wrong to right, some tiny good deed to perform.
Alternately, he could go out and mess with some drunk man's mind. He could stalk the darkness and frighten whomever he finds in the shadows. He could go destroy something man has made, or find the beach and stand on its shore, and scream.
It doesn't really matter. Nothing appeals, though, so he stays in his chair. Sits in the darkness and thinks about godhood, and how they never tell you that all-consuming power comes with all-pervasive knowledge, and that all-knowing sight shows you just how pointless doing anything can be. Knowledge is of all possible futures, given all possible actions. The only unknown is which path the world will take.
All the gods are strapped by inaction, because their omniscience shows them the consequences of their actions. In the end, none of it will matter, and the only thing left to amuse is to walk through the crowds and watch, and share a smile, and find yourself a place where you can play the child.
He toys sometimes with the thought of telling someone. Just to share, just to do something that's different, make a connection that's more than playing. But he's done that before, a thousand years ago, and - in the end - it didn't matter. Didn't matter to the universes at large, and drove him out of his dimension, to here. A new world to set up shop and drift silently through life, changing faces and names and dreams, he steps lightly as the gossamer steps of any mortal.
He sits in his chair and he thinks. Someday he will find someone who will be a god, too, and they can play together.
the end
He sits in a chair in the dark. He's alone, no prospect of anyone stopping by or calling. He's alone, as alone as he ever gets. The thoughts in his head never still, and he can always hear the noise from through the window, through the doorway.
He doesn't mind. He's had long enough to get used to it.
He thinks about getting out of his chair. Leaving the room, going out into the world. Seeing people, doing...something. Anything, it wouldn't really matter what.
In fact, he knows exactly how much it wouldn't matter. He smiles at the thought. Tonight, it doesn't bother him. Instead he thinks about sitting in the dark and contemplating doing something. He could go out and find some injustice to fight, some wrong to right, some tiny good deed to perform.
Alternately, he could go out and mess with some drunk man's mind. He could stalk the darkness and frighten whomever he finds in the shadows. He could go destroy something man has made, or find the beach and stand on its shore, and scream.
It doesn't really matter. Nothing appeals, though, so he stays in his chair. Sits in the darkness and thinks about godhood, and how they never tell you that all-consuming power comes with all-pervasive knowledge, and that all-knowing sight shows you just how pointless doing anything can be. Knowledge is of all possible futures, given all possible actions. The only unknown is which path the world will take.
All the gods are strapped by inaction, because their omniscience shows them the consequences of their actions. In the end, none of it will matter, and the only thing left to amuse is to walk through the crowds and watch, and share a smile, and find yourself a place where you can play the child.
He toys sometimes with the thought of telling someone. Just to share, just to do something that's different, make a connection that's more than playing. But he's done that before, a thousand years ago, and - in the end - it didn't matter. Didn't matter to the universes at large, and drove him out of his dimension, to here. A new world to set up shop and drift silently through life, changing faces and names and dreams, he steps lightly as the gossamer steps of any mortal.
He sits in his chair and he thinks. Someday he will find someone who will be a god, too, and they can play together.
the end