Trinity Blood fic: Abyss
May. 6th, 2007 11:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
narcasse1075 words. 15. Inferred violence.
Observing the inexplicable. Unusual circumstances in which Dietrich finds more questions than answers.
Abyss
Disclaimer: Trinity Blood belongs to Sunao Yoshida, Gonzo and others.
++++++++++
It wasn’t the utter silence that was unnerving, that was the regular state of affairs on the upper floors closest to Isaak’s study anyway. It wasn’t the harsh angle of the sunlight through filtered glass either. It was the sense of something that set Dietrich’s teeth on edge. Something. He didn’t know what and wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to know exactly but still found himself moving soundlessly towards Isaak’s study nonetheless. It wasn’t his problem if the mage had done something stupid of course, was hardly an issue at all even if he’d managed to accidentally kill himself. Except in regards to the fact that it would probably give Flammenschwert an undeserved promotion. Which was why Dietrich was going to see what he’d done. It wasn’t due to worry or concern for Isaak’s wellbeing; he just didn’t like the idea of Flammenschwert getting any undeserved help.
The door to Isaak’s study was ajar which was moderately unusual. Dietrich frowned, hesitating and raised a hand as if to knock. He should probably knock, not that he cared about disturbing Isaak of course. As if to prove that point he shoved the door forcefully open instead. The sight that greeted him was enough to convince him that that might just have been a foolish idea after all.
It wasn’t even that Isaak was doing anything out of the ordinary. He was in fact sitting calmly in his chair with a lit cigarillo between his lips. Chair pushed back a little from the desk, legs crossed, one hand lying relaxed in his lap, resting his cheek against the palm of the other. Everything was perfectly normal; except that it wasn’t at all. Isaak’s uniform was stained with what Dietrich presumed must be dried blood, it might even have been torn in places but it was too difficult to tell from his vantage point in the doorway. Isaak’s hair at least seemed surprisingly free of blood or other debris. He wasn’t wearing his gloves for once and his hands were equally stained but what struck Dietrich the most as a complete aberration of the natural order wasn’t the blood, which may have come from any number of sources, but the livid bruises across Isaak’s hands and face.
“Wh-“
Isaak blinked, almost absentmindedly turning towards Dietrich as if he had only just noticed his presence. The side of his face that he’d been resting against his palm was smeared with blood.
Dietrich stared.
“Is something the matter, my dear?”
Dietrich’s mouth snapped shut abruptly.
“No? That’s good.” But Isaak didn’t seem to be entirely focused or even terribly coherent in his speech.
“Isaak?”
“No fate seemed fair as mine, no happiness so great…”
“What?”
Isaak waved a hand absently, dismissively. “In endless night to dream.”
Scowling Dietrich folded his arms angrily.
“What is it, my dear?”
“I don’t know where that quotation comes from.” A snapped admission.
“It’s a song from the Pirates of Penzance. English comic opera.”
“Dreadful man. Do not profane my ear.”
“My salvation I have lost.”
Reluctantly, Dietrich couldn’t help the faint quirk of his lips at the response.
“Now let the pleasures of hell be my choice.”
“Isaak…”
For a moment it had been so easy to slip back into their usual manner of conversation, forgetting the appalling dissonance Dietrich saw before him. He wanted to say something, do something, to demand who’d done this but where could he even begin with his questions?
“No one.”
“Wha-“
“That’s the answer to your question, isn’t it?”
“No one…” Which could mean any number of things and wasn’t even an answer at all.
There was no other way to ask, to give voice to speculation or accusation.
“Focus.”
“That doesn’t make any sense and you know it doesn’t.”
“Focus is all that one needs to read another’s mind.”
He’d drawn his kneels up, just shy of resting his booted feet on the chair and sighed. “You’re lying.”
“Why ever would I do that, my dear?”
It barely made any sense at all and was probably just Isaak once again playing with words. Anything he said might be likened to a water tumbling over a cliff, though Dietrich rather disliked the image, supposedly clear, pure, direct and utterly ephemeral. There was always the chance that each word made no sense at all and that Isaak just chose to jumble them all together arbitrarily. Sometimes Dietrich wondered if that was the case and then proceeded to tell himself that it might be easier if his superior were insane. Except it wouldn’t make his task any simpler at all and he’d probalby end up just like Flammenschwert in the end, who forever moved erratically, pointlessly because he just didn’t understand his place on the board. Even that analogy disgusted Dietrich. He wasn’t some chess piece cast idly against the tides. He was nobody’s fool, which perversely enough probably meant that eventually he’d be someone’s.
Biting his lip, Dietrich gave in to absurdity and attempted to at least empty his mind. Perhaps it was nothing more esoteric as observing free from external influences which subjugated anything that was seen. He didn’t know and right now in his irrational and pointless worry it probably didn’t matter anyway. Not that he worried for Isaak but rather more worried for the stability of the Orden and his position within it.
Lightless eyes fixed on his and Dietrich stumbled backwards suddenly at the weight of emptiness behind them. There was a nameless terror in those depths, in that hollow and perfectly still gaze. Enough so that all questions fled.
“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster.”
“And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.”
“Nietzsche.”
“Beyond Good and Evil.”
“Yes. Well done, my dear.”
The smile that accompanied that praise was almost enough to unnerve Dietrich entirely as he backed out of the room. It didn’t make sense of course, still didn’t give him any answers and had perhaps given him even more questions that he didn’t really want to ask. None of it made any sense at all which perhaps might be the only real certainty he could depend on.
“’Where the tree of knowledge stands is always Paradise’: thus speak the oldest and youngest serpents.”
Isaak continued to smile as on the far side of the room the light of the candelabra began to gutter out.
++++++++++
“Ah! Leave me not to pine” is the famous duet from Act 2 of The Pirates of Penzance by Gilbert & Sullivan.
Dietrich chooses to answer with one of Wolfram’s lines from Act 3, Scene 3 of Tannhäuser to which Isaak replies with Tannhäuser’s lines towards the latter part of the scene:
“ Entsetzlicher. Entweihe nicht mein Ohr.”
“Mein Heil hab ich verloren,
Nun sei der Hölle Lust erkoren”
Translating as:
“Dreadful man. Do not profane my ear.”
“My salvation I have lost.
Now let the pleasures of Hell be my choice.”
“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.”
- Nietzsche, F., ([1973] 2003), Beyond Good and Evil, p. 102, London, Penguin Classics.
“’Where the tree of knowledge stands is always Paradise’: thus speak the oldest and youngest serpents.”
Nietzsche, F., ([1973] 2003), Beyond Good and Evil, p. 103, London, Penguin Classics.
The corresponding German for the above Nietzsche quotes would be respectively:
“Wer mit Ungeheuern kämpft, mag zusehn, dass er nicht dabei zum Ungeheuer wird. Und wenn du lange in einen Abgrund blickst, blickt der Abgrund auch in dich hinein.”
“"Wo der Baum der Erkenntniss steht, ist immer das Paradies": so reden die ältesten und die jüngsten Schlangen.”
I’ll make the argument that they’re speaking English hence translating the given quotes. The only reason I’m using translated Wagner is because I’ve used something else in German otherwise Wagner is sacrosanct.
Observing the inexplicable. Unusual circumstances in which Dietrich finds more questions than answers.
Abyss
Disclaimer: Trinity Blood belongs to Sunao Yoshida, Gonzo and others.
++++++++++
It wasn’t the utter silence that was unnerving, that was the regular state of affairs on the upper floors closest to Isaak’s study anyway. It wasn’t the harsh angle of the sunlight through filtered glass either. It was the sense of something that set Dietrich’s teeth on edge. Something. He didn’t know what and wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to know exactly but still found himself moving soundlessly towards Isaak’s study nonetheless. It wasn’t his problem if the mage had done something stupid of course, was hardly an issue at all even if he’d managed to accidentally kill himself. Except in regards to the fact that it would probably give Flammenschwert an undeserved promotion. Which was why Dietrich was going to see what he’d done. It wasn’t due to worry or concern for Isaak’s wellbeing; he just didn’t like the idea of Flammenschwert getting any undeserved help.
The door to Isaak’s study was ajar which was moderately unusual. Dietrich frowned, hesitating and raised a hand as if to knock. He should probably knock, not that he cared about disturbing Isaak of course. As if to prove that point he shoved the door forcefully open instead. The sight that greeted him was enough to convince him that that might just have been a foolish idea after all.
It wasn’t even that Isaak was doing anything out of the ordinary. He was in fact sitting calmly in his chair with a lit cigarillo between his lips. Chair pushed back a little from the desk, legs crossed, one hand lying relaxed in his lap, resting his cheek against the palm of the other. Everything was perfectly normal; except that it wasn’t at all. Isaak’s uniform was stained with what Dietrich presumed must be dried blood, it might even have been torn in places but it was too difficult to tell from his vantage point in the doorway. Isaak’s hair at least seemed surprisingly free of blood or other debris. He wasn’t wearing his gloves for once and his hands were equally stained but what struck Dietrich the most as a complete aberration of the natural order wasn’t the blood, which may have come from any number of sources, but the livid bruises across Isaak’s hands and face.
“Wh-“
Isaak blinked, almost absentmindedly turning towards Dietrich as if he had only just noticed his presence. The side of his face that he’d been resting against his palm was smeared with blood.
Dietrich stared.
“Is something the matter, my dear?”
Dietrich’s mouth snapped shut abruptly.
“No? That’s good.” But Isaak didn’t seem to be entirely focused or even terribly coherent in his speech.
“Isaak?”
“No fate seemed fair as mine, no happiness so great…”
“What?”
Isaak waved a hand absently, dismissively. “In endless night to dream.”
Scowling Dietrich folded his arms angrily.
“What is it, my dear?”
“I don’t know where that quotation comes from.” A snapped admission.
“It’s a song from the Pirates of Penzance. English comic opera.”
“Dreadful man. Do not profane my ear.”
“My salvation I have lost.”
Reluctantly, Dietrich couldn’t help the faint quirk of his lips at the response.
“Now let the pleasures of hell be my choice.”
“Isaak…”
For a moment it had been so easy to slip back into their usual manner of conversation, forgetting the appalling dissonance Dietrich saw before him. He wanted to say something, do something, to demand who’d done this but where could he even begin with his questions?
“No one.”
“Wha-“
“That’s the answer to your question, isn’t it?”
“No one…” Which could mean any number of things and wasn’t even an answer at all.
There was no other way to ask, to give voice to speculation or accusation.
“Focus.”
“That doesn’t make any sense and you know it doesn’t.”
“Focus is all that one needs to read another’s mind.”
He’d drawn his kneels up, just shy of resting his booted feet on the chair and sighed. “You’re lying.”
“Why ever would I do that, my dear?”
It barely made any sense at all and was probably just Isaak once again playing with words. Anything he said might be likened to a water tumbling over a cliff, though Dietrich rather disliked the image, supposedly clear, pure, direct and utterly ephemeral. There was always the chance that each word made no sense at all and that Isaak just chose to jumble them all together arbitrarily. Sometimes Dietrich wondered if that was the case and then proceeded to tell himself that it might be easier if his superior were insane. Except it wouldn’t make his task any simpler at all and he’d probalby end up just like Flammenschwert in the end, who forever moved erratically, pointlessly because he just didn’t understand his place on the board. Even that analogy disgusted Dietrich. He wasn’t some chess piece cast idly against the tides. He was nobody’s fool, which perversely enough probably meant that eventually he’d be someone’s.
Biting his lip, Dietrich gave in to absurdity and attempted to at least empty his mind. Perhaps it was nothing more esoteric as observing free from external influences which subjugated anything that was seen. He didn’t know and right now in his irrational and pointless worry it probably didn’t matter anyway. Not that he worried for Isaak but rather more worried for the stability of the Orden and his position within it.
Lightless eyes fixed on his and Dietrich stumbled backwards suddenly at the weight of emptiness behind them. There was a nameless terror in those depths, in that hollow and perfectly still gaze. Enough so that all questions fled.
“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster.”
“And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.”
“Nietzsche.”
“Beyond Good and Evil.”
“Yes. Well done, my dear.”
The smile that accompanied that praise was almost enough to unnerve Dietrich entirely as he backed out of the room. It didn’t make sense of course, still didn’t give him any answers and had perhaps given him even more questions that he didn’t really want to ask. None of it made any sense at all which perhaps might be the only real certainty he could depend on.
“’Where the tree of knowledge stands is always Paradise’: thus speak the oldest and youngest serpents.”
Isaak continued to smile as on the far side of the room the light of the candelabra began to gutter out.
++++++++++
“Ah! Leave me not to pine” is the famous duet from Act 2 of The Pirates of Penzance by Gilbert & Sullivan.
Dietrich chooses to answer with one of Wolfram’s lines from Act 3, Scene 3 of Tannhäuser to which Isaak replies with Tannhäuser’s lines towards the latter part of the scene:
“ Entsetzlicher. Entweihe nicht mein Ohr.”
“Mein Heil hab ich verloren,
Nun sei der Hölle Lust erkoren”
Translating as:
“Dreadful man. Do not profane my ear.”
“My salvation I have lost.
Now let the pleasures of Hell be my choice.”
“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.”
- Nietzsche, F., ([1973] 2003), Beyond Good and Evil, p. 102, London, Penguin Classics.
“’Where the tree of knowledge stands is always Paradise’: thus speak the oldest and youngest serpents.”
Nietzsche, F., ([1973] 2003), Beyond Good and Evil, p. 103, London, Penguin Classics.
The corresponding German for the above Nietzsche quotes would be respectively:
“Wer mit Ungeheuern kämpft, mag zusehn, dass er nicht dabei zum Ungeheuer wird. Und wenn du lange in einen Abgrund blickst, blickt der Abgrund auch in dich hinein.”
“"Wo der Baum der Erkenntniss steht, ist immer das Paradies": so reden die ältesten und die jüngsten Schlangen.”
I’ll make the argument that they’re speaking English hence translating the given quotes. The only reason I’m using translated Wagner is because I’ve used something else in German otherwise Wagner is sacrosanct.
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Date: 2007-05-08 09:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-09 11:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-10 02:15 am (UTC)