promethia_tenk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
promethia_tenk) wrote2009-05-17 08:08 pm
promethia_tenk) wrote2009-05-17 08:08 pm
Entry tags:
WIP FIC: Untitled, Spock from Star Trek XI
So, against all good sense and despite the fact that I have a million papers to grade and quite a bit of unfinished HIMYM fic to write, I am working on a fic for the new Star Trek. I really just need to cut myself off from all media before I loose my job and my sanity to another fandom. *sigh*
Anyway, as the new Star Trek fandom is *bloody, freakin huge* and therefore somewhat scary, I want to test out some bits in friendly territory. So, dear flist, please tell me what you think, be it "I love it" or "I hate it" or "I have no idea what the f*ck you're doing" or "Promethia, you ridiculous English major, get your head out of your ass and sell your Norton anthologies and stop writing this trippy, wanna-be literary crap." All feedback welcome.
Here's the set up: remember in the movie when Spock is flying Spock Prime's red matter ship into the black, spiny-flower Romulan ship and the computer's like "dude, you're gonna die" and Spock is all like "understood" and crazy-eyed and kamikazi-mode? Yeah, that freaked me out, and I'm shocked that I haven't seen any fic dealing with that moment. So this fic will be an attempt to get into his head in that moment with various flashbacks to other relevant scenes both in and out of the movie. The whole thing will be tied together with tropes of darkness and radiating shapes which the Romulan ship is making Spock think about.
Below are two of the flashbacks:
The flower had long, spiny petals reaching out towards them, inky black and devouring, and its center glowed with a blue blackness that drew the four-year-old Spock’s gaze deep into its recesses. In the Vulcan landscape of bone and rust and umber, of grating sand and sunlight, it was an alien, it was an impossibility, and Spock felt the rest of the world fade into whiteness surrounding this terrible star that seemed to eat the light, or rather, to give off darkness, in the way that all others gave off illumination. He did not understand, or perhaps he understood too well. He feared, and he dared not look away.
Soft words broke his trance: “Wife, are you unwell? It is nearly midday, and yet you are shivering.”
Spock looked up from the ground to his parents standing above him. His mother still gazed at the flower with the consuming intensity Spock had felt only moments before, and he observed the minute trembling of her limbs that had caused his father concern. Amanda shook herself slightly and returned her husband’s gaze.
“Thank you, I am well. The flower is simply . . . quite striking. It reminds me . . . .” Her voice trailed off as she searched for words she could not find.
“Yes,” Sarek attempted to reply after a confused moment, “a very unique specimen. The Chancellor informs me that he collected it during a stay on the northern continent. It grows only in the entrances to caves extending below the Vrectian highlands.”
His mother simply shook her head slowly from side to side, eyes back on the dark blossom, and Spock, compelled by a need he could not, at that moment, question, reached out his small hand to grasp her index finger, even though his few years in Vulcan society had already conditioned him to find such a gesture shameful outside the privacy of their own home. And the familiar, comforting brush of his mother’s mind was pierced with the blue, burning darkness, and around the edges their thoughts mingled together in fear and fascination before this deathly avatar that called forth a darkness somewhere from the folds of a deeper darkness, far back in the womb of the Earth.
--------
[from the scene with Uhura in the lift]
Spock could not look into her eyes. They were big and dark, only dark, pooling sadness and warmth larger than his mind could hold.
It was annihilation.
Spock looked at the turbolift doors: their solidity, their lines, their whiteness. He thought of his next move as acting captain. They needed to bolster their strength, their numbers, before moving on; they should return to the remains of the fleet and regroup.
But she was still before him with dark, enfolding arms and dark, enfolding thoughts. He would sink into their limpid well. He would drown. He would live. Her face, her mouth blossomed, opened against his, and his eyes went closed in the spreading darkness, and he melted into the twilight of its depths, and the sadness of a whole world lost and of a single life lost flowed through him with bitter warmth.
And he did not know if it was her mind that flowed so, with black sorrow and honeyed solace, or if at her touch the wine-dark sea had welled from within, but for a moment he circled his arms and cradled the darkness and held it as a lover holds his beloved.
Then she was speaking. Then he opened his eyes. Then the sweetness, the midnight, the ache were all gone, and all was white and bright and ordered and as planned—save her eyes, which alone were still dark, only dark, and sad, and real.
And he dismissed these too, with some words. Dismissed them and walked away from the white lift to the white corridor and off to other white rooms where the plans would go forth and his life would go on.
They would bolster their strength, before moving on; they would return to the fleet and regroup.
Anyway, as the new Star Trek fandom is *bloody, freakin huge* and therefore somewhat scary, I want to test out some bits in friendly territory. So, dear flist, please tell me what you think, be it "I love it" or "I hate it" or "I have no idea what the f*ck you're doing" or "Promethia, you ridiculous English major, get your head out of your ass and sell your Norton anthologies and stop writing this trippy, wanna-be literary crap." All feedback welcome.
Here's the set up: remember in the movie when Spock is flying Spock Prime's red matter ship into the black, spiny-flower Romulan ship and the computer's like "dude, you're gonna die" and Spock is all like "understood" and crazy-eyed and kamikazi-mode? Yeah, that freaked me out, and I'm shocked that I haven't seen any fic dealing with that moment. So this fic will be an attempt to get into his head in that moment with various flashbacks to other relevant scenes both in and out of the movie. The whole thing will be tied together with tropes of darkness and radiating shapes which the Romulan ship is making Spock think about.
Below are two of the flashbacks:
The flower had long, spiny petals reaching out towards them, inky black and devouring, and its center glowed with a blue blackness that drew the four-year-old Spock’s gaze deep into its recesses. In the Vulcan landscape of bone and rust and umber, of grating sand and sunlight, it was an alien, it was an impossibility, and Spock felt the rest of the world fade into whiteness surrounding this terrible star that seemed to eat the light, or rather, to give off darkness, in the way that all others gave off illumination. He did not understand, or perhaps he understood too well. He feared, and he dared not look away.
Soft words broke his trance: “Wife, are you unwell? It is nearly midday, and yet you are shivering.”
Spock looked up from the ground to his parents standing above him. His mother still gazed at the flower with the consuming intensity Spock had felt only moments before, and he observed the minute trembling of her limbs that had caused his father concern. Amanda shook herself slightly and returned her husband’s gaze.
“Thank you, I am well. The flower is simply . . . quite striking. It reminds me . . . .” Her voice trailed off as she searched for words she could not find.
“Yes,” Sarek attempted to reply after a confused moment, “a very unique specimen. The Chancellor informs me that he collected it during a stay on the northern continent. It grows only in the entrances to caves extending below the Vrectian highlands.”
His mother simply shook her head slowly from side to side, eyes back on the dark blossom, and Spock, compelled by a need he could not, at that moment, question, reached out his small hand to grasp her index finger, even though his few years in Vulcan society had already conditioned him to find such a gesture shameful outside the privacy of their own home. And the familiar, comforting brush of his mother’s mind was pierced with the blue, burning darkness, and around the edges their thoughts mingled together in fear and fascination before this deathly avatar that called forth a darkness somewhere from the folds of a deeper darkness, far back in the womb of the Earth.
--------
[from the scene with Uhura in the lift]
Spock could not look into her eyes. They were big and dark, only dark, pooling sadness and warmth larger than his mind could hold.
It was annihilation.
Spock looked at the turbolift doors: their solidity, their lines, their whiteness. He thought of his next move as acting captain. They needed to bolster their strength, their numbers, before moving on; they should return to the remains of the fleet and regroup.
But she was still before him with dark, enfolding arms and dark, enfolding thoughts. He would sink into their limpid well. He would drown. He would live. Her face, her mouth blossomed, opened against his, and his eyes went closed in the spreading darkness, and he melted into the twilight of its depths, and the sadness of a whole world lost and of a single life lost flowed through him with bitter warmth.
And he did not know if it was her mind that flowed so, with black sorrow and honeyed solace, or if at her touch the wine-dark sea had welled from within, but for a moment he circled his arms and cradled the darkness and held it as a lover holds his beloved.
Then she was speaking. Then he opened his eyes. Then the sweetness, the midnight, the ache were all gone, and all was white and bright and ordered and as planned—save her eyes, which alone were still dark, only dark, and sad, and real.
And he dismissed these too, with some words. Dismissed them and walked away from the white lift to the white corridor and off to other white rooms where the plans would go forth and his life would go on.
They would bolster their strength, before moving on; they would return to the fleet and regroup.
no subject
*sighs*
*wipes eyes*
no subject
I did go back and see the movie again yesterday to try to work out some plot details (and to force my sister to see it). I feel a bit constricted, however, trying to write fic based on one movie after writing so much fic based on a whole TV show. I mean, a lot of people are using stuff from the original series to fill in character and background, which makes sense, but in some ways, all you have to work with is one movie's worth of stuff, and half the movie wasn't even about Spock anyway. I need more material! *scared*
no subject