just some melody snippets
So, I've settled on Melody fic for SciFi Big Bang, which is really exciting, as Doctor Who will be a new, interesting fandom to work in. We've got to submit snippets of our work, and this is what I've got so far, and I'm feeling really overwhelmed as the project will be large!
i.
Inside the belly of the Spaceman, Melody, finally, can walk. Grimacing, she steps forward, rests a few moments, then steps forward again -- refusing to cry because tears make her eyes burn and her face itch, and for what? For what? Even when she remembers to lick the salty droplets from her cheeks, it's not enough to wet her parched throat.
Melody takes another step, winces. Her cot, only a few paces away now, is her only chance at respite. It's a thin mattress indented with the form of her body, yellowed with pee. She knows enough about the world to understand that that should humiliate her, doesn't know enough to understand why, or how to stop it from happening in the first place. "Three more steps," she tells herself. Don't you know your pain is irrelevant, Melody Pond? "Yes," she says, though she doesn't know to whom or what she's responding, and takes two more steps.
Diagnosis: Rickets, says a voice inside the Spaceman. Initiate re-mineralising procedure.
Bent bones straightening -- it hurts more than the walking. Femur, patella, tibia, fibula, it occurs to Melody, she knows the names of things, but knows not the person who's in charge of giving things their names. Where is she? Is this how it's supposed to be?
There is a word called "lonely." There is a word called "afraid." These words are inside of Melody, but remain useless, and when she tries shouting "lonely, afraid!" to the walls and to the creaking floors, nothing happens. She is not sure what words are for, and why she knows them, and how.
*
After the Spaceman swallows her up, Melody pretends she's inside the Great Whale, like Jonah, a story she once heard by someone she doesn't know. For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth. Melody has been inside the Spaceman for much longer than three days. And in the Big House for longer than that. She occupies her time with lessons remembered: that she is bad and wrong, and that no one is coming to get her. There is a man called the Doctor and he has abandoned her. She tries to call to him, even speaks to him on the phone. But he is never here even though she wants more than anything for him to be here. It seems such a small thing to ask for, that someone show up, when you very much need for them to show up.
She also knows quantum mechanics, multivariable calculus, linear algebra, string theory, organic chemistry, how to configure an assault rifle, how many bullet a magazine of most semi-automatics will hold, which poisons have which effects.
ii.
What I Want to Be When I Grow Up
by Melody Fabulous O'Malley Zarathustra Wilhelmina Mary Magdalene Tudor King David Zucker the 3rd, Queen of Time, aka, Mels
When I grow up, I'm going to be a brilliant engineer and build a device that lets me travel through time to anywhere I like. That way I can complete a list of VERY IMPORTANT time-travel related tasks. The only other person in the universe who has a device similar to the one I'll build (but not as good) can't figure out how to use it properly, as he does things like say he’ll be back in five minutes but never returns, which sounds to me like typical wanker behaviour and NOT the behaviour of someone who’s tasked with travelling the universe, you get me? I mean, a time traveller who can't be arsed to be punctual?
Anyway, at this very moment (well, sort of at this very moment, time travel is very complicated), anyway, at this sort of very moment, future me is leading a legion of highly trained warriors to 1492 to defend the Indians from Christopher Columbus. Chris will not survive the battle, I’m afraid. He and I aren't too keen on each other really, though obviously he did fancy me before he realised I was going to finish him off (not THAT sort of finish him off. Seriously, Mrs. Roderick, don't be perverted! I am only 12!).
Melody, see me after class. - Mrs. R
i.
Inside the belly of the Spaceman, Melody, finally, can walk. Grimacing, she steps forward, rests a few moments, then steps forward again -- refusing to cry because tears make her eyes burn and her face itch, and for what? For what? Even when she remembers to lick the salty droplets from her cheeks, it's not enough to wet her parched throat.
Melody takes another step, winces. Her cot, only a few paces away now, is her only chance at respite. It's a thin mattress indented with the form of her body, yellowed with pee. She knows enough about the world to understand that that should humiliate her, doesn't know enough to understand why, or how to stop it from happening in the first place. "Three more steps," she tells herself. Don't you know your pain is irrelevant, Melody Pond? "Yes," she says, though she doesn't know to whom or what she's responding, and takes two more steps.
Diagnosis: Rickets, says a voice inside the Spaceman. Initiate re-mineralising procedure.
Bent bones straightening -- it hurts more than the walking. Femur, patella, tibia, fibula, it occurs to Melody, she knows the names of things, but knows not the person who's in charge of giving things their names. Where is she? Is this how it's supposed to be?
There is a word called "lonely." There is a word called "afraid." These words are inside of Melody, but remain useless, and when she tries shouting "lonely, afraid!" to the walls and to the creaking floors, nothing happens. She is not sure what words are for, and why she knows them, and how.
*
After the Spaceman swallows her up, Melody pretends she's inside the Great Whale, like Jonah, a story she once heard by someone she doesn't know. For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth. Melody has been inside the Spaceman for much longer than three days. And in the Big House for longer than that. She occupies her time with lessons remembered: that she is bad and wrong, and that no one is coming to get her. There is a man called the Doctor and he has abandoned her. She tries to call to him, even speaks to him on the phone. But he is never here even though she wants more than anything for him to be here. It seems such a small thing to ask for, that someone show up, when you very much need for them to show up.
She also knows quantum mechanics, multivariable calculus, linear algebra, string theory, organic chemistry, how to configure an assault rifle, how many bullet a magazine of most semi-automatics will hold, which poisons have which effects.
ii.
What I Want to Be When I Grow Up
by Melody Fabulous O'Malley Zarathustra Wilhelmina Mary Magdalene Tudor King David Zucker the 3rd, Queen of Time, aka, Mels
When I grow up, I'm going to be a brilliant engineer and build a device that lets me travel through time to anywhere I like. That way I can complete a list of VERY IMPORTANT time-travel related tasks. The only other person in the universe who has a device similar to the one I'll build (but not as good) can't figure out how to use it properly, as he does things like say he’ll be back in five minutes but never returns, which sounds to me like typical wanker behaviour and NOT the behaviour of someone who’s tasked with travelling the universe, you get me? I mean, a time traveller who can't be arsed to be punctual?
Anyway, at this very moment (well, sort of at this very moment, time travel is very complicated), anyway, at this sort of very moment, future me is leading a legion of highly trained warriors to 1492 to defend the Indians from Christopher Columbus. Chris will not survive the battle, I’m afraid. He and I aren't too keen on each other really, though obviously he did fancy me before he realised I was going to finish him off (not THAT sort of finish him off. Seriously, Mrs. Roderick, don't be perverted! I am only 12!).
Melody, see me after class. - Mrs. R