angsty vacation fic
Jun. 18th, 2006 01:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
envious_musesOkay, two ficlets written while I was on vacation. The poor muses were all angsty missing their friends. That, and I had Mozart's Requiem bouncing around in my head.
Title: Mass of Fools
Series: Saiyuki
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,171
Summary: Hakkai and the Catholic Mass
Notes: I've been wanting to do a fic based around the Mass for quite some time. Here it finally is.
If God really exists, then he is a fool.
Kyrie eleison; Christe eleison; Kyrie eleison
I truly believed that when I was a child. Now, I’m even more certain. If God exists, then he is a fool for giving life to a monster such as I have become.
Gloria in excelsis Deo et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis.
I was raised to be Catholic in the orphanage, raised to give false praise to a god I never believed in. Now I’ve met other gods, so perhaps he exists as well. I wouldn’t know.
Laudamus te, benedicimus te, adoramus te, glorificamus te.
As much as I hated the services, the music called to me. I didn’t hate everything back then, much as I would have liked people to believe that. Art was above the human frailties I despised. Literature above all, but also paintings and music let me live above my station in life, let me enjoy something that nothing human or demon could destroy.
Gratias agimus tibi propter magnam gloriam tuam,
Domine Deus, Rex caelestis, Deus Pater omnipotens.
The music led me to attend the services when the Sister would call us together on Sunday mornings. Even now, if we stop over in a town with a church instead of a temple, I sometimes find myself drawn to hear the mass being sung if we stay long enough. I never go inside. No god would suffer monsters inside his sanctuary. I take great care to ensure the others never learn of my wanderings, thought I sometimes wonder if they don’t suspect more than I give them credit for.
Domine Fili unigenite, Iesu Christe,
Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Filius Patris,
qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis;
qui tollis peccata mundi, suscipe deprecationem nostram.
Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris, miserere nobis.
I started learning Latin like any good Catholic boy, learned enough to know what those mysterious words we sang meant, learned enough to know I didn’t believe in them. No one would step in to save me if I didn’t save myself. There was no mercy.
Quoniam tu solus Sanctus,
tu solus Dominus, tu solus Altissimus, Iesu Christe,
cum Sancto Spiritu in gloria Dei Patris.
Amen.
There was no mercy then, and there is none now. If we did not kill those who wished to kill us, could we ever expect the same mercy from them? No, those who kill others must be prepared to die at another’s hands, after all.
Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem,
factorem caeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium.
That is one lesson I have learned to believe in. The more I kill, the more certain it becomes that I will be killed in the end. It makes a certain sense. Justice, not mercy.
Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum,
Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula.
Justice. Is it justice for a monster to find happiness? Is it justice for a killer to find redemption? Or is the real justice in the continued attempt yet failure to reach those goals?
Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero,
genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri;
per quem omnia facta sunt.
Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis.
I’ve come to believe that the more I try and fail, the more my soul is fragmented by those failures, the more fragments of it are allowed to drift away to sooth those whose lives I wrongly ended. Thus, I believe, even pain can serve a purpose when one is unworthy of happiness.
Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est.
Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est,
et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas,
et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris.
Unworthy of happiness and perhaps even of death itself. They saved me from myself once, something I am not certain I would thank them for. Before and since I should have died countless times, yet I did not. So perhaps I still have too much to atone for to find death.
Et iterum venturus est cum gloria, iudicare vivos et mortuos,
cuius regni non erit finis;
Even as we fight for our lives against overwhelming odds, and I see them drop around me one by one, I stay standing. Those much more deserving of mercy receive none, but I do not join them. Not yet, anyway. Gojyo falls keeping a dozen off of Sanzo as he reloads and Goku protecting Sanzo after he fell to the horde that descended after Gojyo’s shakujo no long kept them away, and once again I am the only one left.
Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem,
qui ex Patre procedit.
Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur:
qui locutus est per prophetas.
Sanzo’s still conscious as I reach for the cuffs on my left ear. I catch his eye and he nods. Good. I know he will stop me if I cannot stop myself. Three pieces of silver hit the ground, and I am aware of little else.
Et unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam.
Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum.
Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum,
et vitam venturi saeculi.
Amen.
Much of what happens when my limiters are off I never remember. It is usually a mix of tangible emotion and driving need. The need for blood and death. I often wonder if that is something like what Goku feels after an episode as Seiten Taisei. I know I destroy the remaining enemies. Looking down the barrel of a surprisingly steady banishing gun, I can almost taste the malice of my smile as I return the limiters to their places. Then everything is black.
Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, Domine Deus Sabaoth;
pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua.
Hosanna in excelsis
Someone has gotten a blanket out of our packs because I’m covered when I wake up. Gojyo and Sanzo look bad and Goku not much better. I’m sure I look much the same. Someone must have washed off the blood that had coated me, and we’re no longer on the battleground we had been fighting on. I don’t envy them waking up in the carnage I’m sure I left behind. Still, I manage to smile as if I can’t still feel the blood coating my hands.
Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.
Hosanna in excelsis
If God exists, then he is a fool for letting things like this happen, for letting a monster live with blood on his hands while innocents die every day. Every lesson I have learned in life makes me firmer in this belief.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
miserere nobis
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
dona nobis pacem
I pretend to sleep as I meditate on all the lives I have taken. I have no way to atone and so must simply continue moving forward. Forward. I can’t help the ironic smile. Forward, westward. Perhaps, could I believe, I would learn to pray.
Title: Requiem for a Lost Soul
Series: Diabolo
Rating: PG
Word count: 585 (and someday, I swear I will do a Diabolo fic with 666 words.. but that day is not today)
Summary: Ren's requiem for things lost
In his dreams, the monsters don’t chase him. They welcome him, greet him as one of their own. This terrifies him more than the dreams he had as a child where everyone around him was killed because now they all die at his hands. His mother, the bullies he dealt with all through school, every person he’s ever put to death. This time, though, they don’t deserve it. The monsters sit at the sides and cheer him on.
The worst, the last, the one that sends him gasping into wakefulness is the one face he knows he will one day be forced to stare into as his life ends, as he ends the other’s in return. That’s why he always wakes up, shuddering, calling out Rai’s name just to know he’s still there, that his nightmares aren’t bleeding out into daylight.
Then there were the times when the knowledge that his mother had been right, that he was a monster, became too oppressive to even think about sleep. Those times, he’d sit with his back to wherever Rai was sleeping and, just as he was currently doing, stare out into the night and think. Rai never bothered to comment on his sleepless night and if sometimes, in his sleep, Rai’s hand would happen to find its way onto his shoulder… well, he wasn’t complaining.
He’d sit and stare and shiver as dawn lit up the sky and he’d think of a million things. One time, they’d spent the night near a church. During the dawn hours, the sounds of a requiem mass had drifted towards their spot. Rai hadn’t asked why he’d been awakened hours before they’d normally be on the move, and Ren never explained how the first strident tones of the Dies Irae had sent chills through him that he couldn’t escape and by the time the choir had reached an angelic ‘dona eis requiem,’ he couldn’t stand to hear any more. He had to get away, away from the memories of a hundred churches his mother had dragged him to when he was little to cure him of a sin he couldn’t remember committing; away from the memories of a hundred souls sent on with no requiem sung for them, nothing but a simple benediction; away from the knowledge that dies irae, the day of wrath, was already here and he was its sword.
The haunting strains of the lacrimosa seemed to drift past him as he stared at a view which included no churches for miles, something he’d made sure of. He felt his eyes well up in obedient response and the first tremors shook his shoulders under Rai’s loose grip. He said nothing as he felt Rai move and a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him back against a warmth he’d found himself growing closer to over the months they’d been together. His eyes shut too late to stop a pair of tears from escaping. If there was anything left in him capable of praying, he wished he could find it.
He knew he was shuddering against Rai’s chest, could almost hear Rai calling his name through the delicate, overpowering requiem playing in his head. “Please,” he gasped as he realized, too late, that the monsters had found just another way to get to him as they sang him a requiem to a soul long lost.
Lacrimosa dies illa que resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus, pie Jesu Domine
Dona eis requiem.
Amen.
Title: Mass of Fools
Series: Saiyuki
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,171
Summary: Hakkai and the Catholic Mass
Notes: I've been wanting to do a fic based around the Mass for quite some time. Here it finally is.
If God really exists, then he is a fool.
I truly believed that when I was a child. Now, I’m even more certain. If God exists, then he is a fool for giving life to a monster such as I have become.
I was raised to be Catholic in the orphanage, raised to give false praise to a god I never believed in. Now I’ve met other gods, so perhaps he exists as well. I wouldn’t know.
As much as I hated the services, the music called to me. I didn’t hate everything back then, much as I would have liked people to believe that. Art was above the human frailties I despised. Literature above all, but also paintings and music let me live above my station in life, let me enjoy something that nothing human or demon could destroy.
Domine Deus, Rex caelestis, Deus Pater omnipotens.
The music led me to attend the services when the Sister would call us together on Sunday mornings. Even now, if we stop over in a town with a church instead of a temple, I sometimes find myself drawn to hear the mass being sung if we stay long enough. I never go inside. No god would suffer monsters inside his sanctuary. I take great care to ensure the others never learn of my wanderings, thought I sometimes wonder if they don’t suspect more than I give them credit for.
Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Filius Patris,
qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis;
qui tollis peccata mundi, suscipe deprecationem nostram.
Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris, miserere nobis.
I started learning Latin like any good Catholic boy, learned enough to know what those mysterious words we sang meant, learned enough to know I didn’t believe in them. No one would step in to save me if I didn’t save myself. There was no mercy.
tu solus Dominus, tu solus Altissimus, Iesu Christe,
cum Sancto Spiritu in gloria Dei Patris.
Amen.
There was no mercy then, and there is none now. If we did not kill those who wished to kill us, could we ever expect the same mercy from them? No, those who kill others must be prepared to die at another’s hands, after all.
factorem caeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium.
That is one lesson I have learned to believe in. The more I kill, the more certain it becomes that I will be killed in the end. It makes a certain sense. Justice, not mercy.
Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula.
Justice. Is it justice for a monster to find happiness? Is it justice for a killer to find redemption? Or is the real justice in the continued attempt yet failure to reach those goals?
genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri;
per quem omnia facta sunt.
Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis.
I’ve come to believe that the more I try and fail, the more my soul is fragmented by those failures, the more fragments of it are allowed to drift away to sooth those whose lives I wrongly ended. Thus, I believe, even pain can serve a purpose when one is unworthy of happiness.
Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est,
et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas,
et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris.
Unworthy of happiness and perhaps even of death itself. They saved me from myself once, something I am not certain I would thank them for. Before and since I should have died countless times, yet I did not. So perhaps I still have too much to atone for to find death.
cuius regni non erit finis;
Even as we fight for our lives against overwhelming odds, and I see them drop around me one by one, I stay standing. Those much more deserving of mercy receive none, but I do not join them. Not yet, anyway. Gojyo falls keeping a dozen off of Sanzo as he reloads and Goku protecting Sanzo after he fell to the horde that descended after Gojyo’s shakujo no long kept them away, and once again I am the only one left.
qui ex Patre procedit.
Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur:
qui locutus est per prophetas.
Sanzo’s still conscious as I reach for the cuffs on my left ear. I catch his eye and he nods. Good. I know he will stop me if I cannot stop myself. Three pieces of silver hit the ground, and I am aware of little else.
Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum.
Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum,
et vitam venturi saeculi.
Amen.
Much of what happens when my limiters are off I never remember. It is usually a mix of tangible emotion and driving need. The need for blood and death. I often wonder if that is something like what Goku feels after an episode as Seiten Taisei. I know I destroy the remaining enemies. Looking down the barrel of a surprisingly steady banishing gun, I can almost taste the malice of my smile as I return the limiters to their places. Then everything is black.
pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua.
Hosanna in excelsis
Someone has gotten a blanket out of our packs because I’m covered when I wake up. Gojyo and Sanzo look bad and Goku not much better. I’m sure I look much the same. Someone must have washed off the blood that had coated me, and we’re no longer on the battleground we had been fighting on. I don’t envy them waking up in the carnage I’m sure I left behind. Still, I manage to smile as if I can’t still feel the blood coating my hands.
Hosanna in excelsis
If God exists, then he is a fool for letting things like this happen, for letting a monster live with blood on his hands while innocents die every day. Every lesson I have learned in life makes me firmer in this belief.
miserere nobis
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
dona nobis pacem
I pretend to sleep as I meditate on all the lives I have taken. I have no way to atone and so must simply continue moving forward. Forward. I can’t help the ironic smile. Forward, westward. Perhaps, could I believe, I would learn to pray.
Title: Requiem for a Lost Soul
Series: Diabolo
Rating: PG
Word count: 585 (and someday, I swear I will do a Diabolo fic with 666 words.. but that day is not today)
Summary: Ren's requiem for things lost
In his dreams, the monsters don’t chase him. They welcome him, greet him as one of their own. This terrifies him more than the dreams he had as a child where everyone around him was killed because now they all die at his hands. His mother, the bullies he dealt with all through school, every person he’s ever put to death. This time, though, they don’t deserve it. The monsters sit at the sides and cheer him on.
The worst, the last, the one that sends him gasping into wakefulness is the one face he knows he will one day be forced to stare into as his life ends, as he ends the other’s in return. That’s why he always wakes up, shuddering, calling out Rai’s name just to know he’s still there, that his nightmares aren’t bleeding out into daylight.
Then there were the times when the knowledge that his mother had been right, that he was a monster, became too oppressive to even think about sleep. Those times, he’d sit with his back to wherever Rai was sleeping and, just as he was currently doing, stare out into the night and think. Rai never bothered to comment on his sleepless night and if sometimes, in his sleep, Rai’s hand would happen to find its way onto his shoulder… well, he wasn’t complaining.
He’d sit and stare and shiver as dawn lit up the sky and he’d think of a million things. One time, they’d spent the night near a church. During the dawn hours, the sounds of a requiem mass had drifted towards their spot. Rai hadn’t asked why he’d been awakened hours before they’d normally be on the move, and Ren never explained how the first strident tones of the Dies Irae had sent chills through him that he couldn’t escape and by the time the choir had reached an angelic ‘dona eis requiem,’ he couldn’t stand to hear any more. He had to get away, away from the memories of a hundred churches his mother had dragged him to when he was little to cure him of a sin he couldn’t remember committing; away from the memories of a hundred souls sent on with no requiem sung for them, nothing but a simple benediction; away from the knowledge that dies irae, the day of wrath, was already here and he was its sword.
The haunting strains of the lacrimosa seemed to drift past him as he stared at a view which included no churches for miles, something he’d made sure of. He felt his eyes well up in obedient response and the first tremors shook his shoulders under Rai’s loose grip. He said nothing as he felt Rai move and a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him back against a warmth he’d found himself growing closer to over the months they’d been together. His eyes shut too late to stop a pair of tears from escaping. If there was anything left in him capable of praying, he wished he could find it.
He knew he was shuddering against Rai’s chest, could almost hear Rai calling his name through the delicate, overpowering requiem playing in his head. “Please,” he gasped as he realized, too late, that the monsters had found just another way to get to him as they sang him a requiem to a soul long lost.
Judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus, pie Jesu Domine
Dona eis requiem.
Amen.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-18 06:30 am (UTC)Seriously...ow...OW...;_________________; RIGHT IN MY BLACKENED SHRIVELED HEART.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-18 09:36 am (UTC)That shiny I was workin' on when you went to bed. :D (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b88/candyscorn/requiem.jpg)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-18 05:35 pm (UTC)Remember kids, looking at shinies on the grandparents' comp can be hazardous to your health. *keeps a stealthy eye out for approaching fam members*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-18 10:07 pm (UTC)