Commentary - Illusion
Dec. 26th, 2009 12:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deird_ljSo, I asked for fic commentary requests. (I’m still happy to do more, if anyone wants one.)
This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lavastar, who requested a commentary for Illusion. You should probably read that before looking at this commentary.
The original fic still looks like it did, and my notes are the bits in blockquotes.
Illusion
Mad mad William is mad
entirely gone to the fairies with nothing left standing, poor boy poor poor William is going going gone to ground underground is hiding – can I hide? or will they find me? hiding hiding in the dark, all alone in the dark it's gone the light is gone but here here here inside mixed in, there's nothing left but up and down and some way to tell the two apart
apart
not apart any longer
it's all been pushed together, screaming all the screaming screaming sobbing crying oh please God make it stop
Stop!
Someone's been a bad, bad boy.
No.
No. Not me.
It couldn't have been, but it was, it was, oh please, I can't stay here. Tell me it isn't true.
Not today, me, now, ever, what have I become?
Darla smiled. “So innocent still, my darling child. When will you ever understand?” She stood, and walked slowly across the basement, reciting: “The vampire is a noble creature, capable of much love. And much more interesting evil. He is inventive, cruel, malicious, exciting… and really in need of a new hairstyle. Don't you ever look in a mirror?”
Aren't you dead? I thought you were. Of course, dead, you're dead, we're all dead, but dust and dead aren't all wrapped up tight anymore. Wrapped up, wrapped up just like Christmas. Such very pretty trees, and lights! and laughter, turkey, carols, what is the matter with me?
Get a grip, moron.
He sits, head in hands, and rocks – barely noticing the water dripping onto the floor from a busted pipe.
It's not all that important, really, just a few drips. Dripping away, they drip, drip, drip drips are dropping til the water fills up everywhere, everything, flooding us out, and there's-
No.
Facts.
He moves away from the puddle, muttering.
Dark. Night. No – basement. Underneath. Hiding. Wrong. Bad. Vampire. Bad vampire. No biscuit. Bad. Evil. Different. Different from the others. New. Spark. Engine. Girl. Plan. Girl. Different. New. Plan. Spark. Plan. Girl.
Does he really think she'll forgive him?
Well, that was the whole point, wasn't it? The reason, the reason why, she was always the reason. The very- the most- the only- the loveliest- and he will always love her. Except he hadn’t he didn’t he couldn’t it all flew away and all there was left is hurt and hate and nothing! nothing to do, nothing left he did it destroyed her all to nothing to death destruction and betrayal and his fault always his fault
“You really are an idiot.” Angel was leaning against the wall, arms folded, and that same infuriating smirk on his face. “You really thought you could change? Fix it all, create a new Spike for the new millennium, and maybe she’d actually love you? In your dreams.”
Dreams. So many dreams. Dreams, hopes, ambitions, all together. Built up in a pile, so nice, so beautiful. But they never stay. They all come tumbling down. They break. They fall and break like china, china, can’t speak chinese, Slayer, sorry. Have to kill you instead – and Angel’s still talking. Why’s he talking? time to listen.
Spike looks up and yes, Angel’s still there.
“Truth is, Spikey, you’re exactly what you’ve always been. A monster. I ought to know – after all, I made you. You’re mine.”
I’m mine? No, yours, his – third person, singular, possessive, that’s the way. His, hers, its, no apostrophe, that means it is as in it is a cat or it is a fireplace or it is a monstrous vampire crouching in a basement with blood all over his hands blood everywhere so much blood
Tastes delicious, doesn’t it? Blood is life…
No! No, I can’t. I won’t. Not anymore, I’m different, I’m going to be new.
“Oh, baby, no. You don’t get to choose – you don’t get to change.” She knelt down in front of him, and it was her, Red’s girlfriend. “You’re evil, disgusting, repellent…” She smiled, and continued gently, “It’s okay, I don’t mind. After all, it’s not your fault.”
Not my fault. No-one’s fault. Poor Spike is all alone and faultless, little, lost, innocent… no. Innocence is pure, good, shining, and entirely the wrong concept
wrong as anything ever was
all of it so wrong
and she’s not really here
she’s trying to trick me
That makes no sense. How can she trick you if she’s not here?
Somehow.
He shuts his eyes tightly so that he can’t see, and crouches in the corner, banging his head against the wall in the hope that she’ll stop being there.
Not real, nothing – all of it, so much nothing, nothing but
violence
betrayal
pain torture death laughter glee
oh God what have I done?
I can’t
I did
If
Or
I could be more
I could choose
“Well, yes, you could.” Tara’s voice, soft and sweet, kept talking so beguilingly. “You could choose to die – that might work. It’s always an option. But really, why would you?”
Poor William. Poor, poor William. Poor…
“The fact is, evil is fun. Violence is fun.” Her face rippled and became… a man. From Boston or somewhere else, he’d never got his name. “Admit it – didn’t you have fun ripping my throat out?” His eyes were so near. “Remember my smell – my taste? You enjoyed that kill so much. And part of you still does.”
the grab, the snapping bones, the screams, the fear, the wonderful stinking fear, the thrill, the rush, better than the rides at Disneyland with the rollercoasters and the singing dolls and the spinning cups spinning spinning cups spinning round and round and round
“Pain. Anger. Violence. Hate. It’s everything …which is good, because it’s all you get.” He laughed, and moved away.
Upside down.
It’s all back to front, inside out, and I enjoyed it.
No. Not this. Please. Why am I…
“Oh, Spike. You’re pathetic.”
He looks up – and Joyce was standing there, looking disappointed.
She shook her head. “You keep running around trying so hard, and all the time avoiding the real question. And it’s all so simple, when you get right down to it.”
Wow, he’s really got a thing about mothers, doesn’t he?
Yes. Simple. So very simple. Good and evil – pick a side. Eeny, meeny, miney…
“It’s easier than that.” A little girl was sitting on a pipe nearby, swinging her legs back and forth. She grinned at him. “Easy-peasy. You’re evil. And that’s that.”
I’m evil. And that’s that. Evil evil evil evil evil
What? No. That’s not – is it?
…and what do they mean I’ve got a thing about mothers?
evil evil evilly evil evillest
“You can’t help it. What you are is what you ever will be. It’s out of your control.”
No. No, that’s-
I didn’t-
That was before, when up and down meant the same thing, before it-
I took control. I changed it. I made it all-
“No, silly.” She smirked at him, and started walking over, tauntingly. He just watches. “You didn’t change anything. You can’t. You have no power.”
But I changed. I became
“You’re silly, and weak…”
I won.
“…and feeble, and small…”
I was new.
“…and quite ridiculous…”
Her eyes – so taunting and cruel.
Her skin, so white and fresh.
her neck so appealing
“…you’re nothing. Not anymore.”
she’s lying! lying wrong lying I can I did I will I have power
“You?” She laughed. “You don’t even have the power to hurt me. Can’t kill anymore.”
can
“Can’t hurt anymore.”
did
“Can’t drink anymore.”
will
“You can’t do anything.”
CAN!
FangsAngerHunger He snarls and grabs her to crush and kill and feed and DESTROY HE CAN HE WILL HE IS
…she melts away.
Nothing. Nothing there. Nothing at all.
And he…
He almost…
You were going to kill her.
oh God
Angel raised an eyebrow. “See? The same old Spike. You never learn.”
never-ever-ever… but no! I must! I will.
I will become something more.
I will be what she needs.
I will be what I should be.
Buffy laughed at him. “No,” she said. “You won’t.”
I hope you liked this!
This was written for
lavastar, who requested a commentary for Illusion. You should probably read that before looking at this commentary.The original fic still looks like it did, and my notes are the bits in blockquotes.
Illusion
This story was originally part of another one.
I started writing a five-part fic starring Spike, called “Five Ways To Serve A Drink”. It was going to focus on five different stages in his life, starting back when he was still human, and ending post-series, with him and Buffy tentatively starting a relationship. This part (part 4) was called Sweet, supple, and with a hint of illusion.
But part 1 stopped after a couple of paragraphs, part 5 wouldn’t be written at all, and parts 2 and 3 got away from me, and ended up much longer than they were supposed to be. So in the end, I wrote parts 2 and 3 as separate fics (A Quiet Night In and The Slow Slip Into Wonderful Nothing), discarded the teeny sentence fragments of parts 1 and 5, and put part 4 away for later. Much later.
Then, several months down the track, I needed to write a fic about madness…
Mad mad William is mad
entirely gone to the fairies with nothing left standing, poor boy poor poor William is going going gone to ground underground is hiding – can I hide? or will they find me? hiding hiding in the dark, all alone in the dark it's gone the light is gone but here here here inside mixed in, there's nothing left but up and down and some way to tell the two apart
This is one of the weirdest things I’ve ever written. Trying to keep such an odd stream-of-conscious thing going, with punctuation slipping in and out, and Spike’s train of thought going off in such random directions… it was insanely complicated. And extremely fun.
In this fic, he is, of course, in the school basement, having just got his soul back. And he’s gone completely off his rocker.
The end of this paragraph is referring to his soul. “Inside mixed in” because his soul and everything else is all mixed up together. And, because he’s now got this shiny new conscience, showing him when stuff is good or evil… “up and down and some way to tell the two apart”.
apart
not apart any longer
(The vampire, and the human.)
it's all been pushed together, screaming all the screaming screaming sobbing crying oh please God make it stop
Stop!
Someone's been a bad, bad boy.
No.
No. Not me.
It couldn't have been, but it was, it was, oh please, I can't stay here. Tell me it isn't true.
Not today, me, now, ever, what have I become?
He’s done an awful lot of completely horrifying stuff. And now he cares.
Darla smiled. “So innocent still, my darling child. When will you ever understand?” She stood, and walked slowly across the basement, reciting: “The vampire is a noble creature, capable of much love. And much more interesting evil. He is inventive, cruel, malicious, exciting… and really in need of a new hairstyle. Don't you ever look in a mirror?”
Yay! Darla!
I wanted to make sure that The First was appearing as different people to who it was on the show. Darla was my first choice – I’ve always wished we could have seen her and Spike interacting.
Please note: The First comes in past tense, whereas everything else is in present tense. Just one more fun part of being insane.
Aren't you dead? I thought you were. Of course, dead, you're dead, we're all dead, but dust and dead aren't all wrapped up tight anymore. Wrapped up, wrapped up just like Christmas. Such very pretty trees, and lights! and laughter, turkey, carols, what is the matter with me?
Get a grip, moron.
Spike is well aware that he’s gone crazy. His brain is making very weird connections, and he still has just enough sanity left to see how truly weird they are.
He sits, head in hands, and rocks – barely noticing the water dripping onto the floor from a busted pipe.
It's not all that important, really, just a few drips. Dripping away, they drip, drip, drip drips are dropping til the water fills up everywhere, everything, flooding us out, and there's-
No.
Facts.
He moves away from the puddle, muttering.
Dark. Night. No – basement. Underneath. Hiding. Wrong. Bad. Vampire. Bad vampire. No biscuit. Bad. Evil. Different. Different from the others. New. Spark. Engine. Girl. Plan. Girl. Different. New. Plan. Spark. Plan. Girl.
My absolute favourite line in this fic is the “Bad vampire. No biscuit”. It was so fun.
“Spark” is of course talking about Spike’s soul – the way he mentions it in the chapel scene in Beneath You. The “plan” is talking about him deciding to win his soul back. And the “girl” is obviously Buffy.
Does he really think she'll forgive him?
No idea where these bits in italics are coming from. Either Spike’s asking them, or The First is, or something weird in Spike’s brain is whispering at him…
Well, that was the whole point, wasn't it? The reason, the reason why, she was always the reason. The very- the most- the only- the loveliest- and he will always love her. Except he hadn’t he didn’t he couldn’t it all flew away and all there was left is hurt and hate and nothing! nothing to do, nothing left he did it destroyed her all to nothing to death destruction and betrayal and his fault always his fault
A whole stack of guilt over the events of season 6, right here…
“You really are an idiot.” Angel was leaning against the wall, arms folded, and that same infuriating smirk on his face. “You really thought you could change? Fix it all, create a new Spike for the new millennium, and maybe she’d actually love you? In your dreams.”
(Angel the way Spike remembers him – soulless and superior.)
Dreams. So many dreams. Dreams, hopes, ambitions, all together. Built up in a pile, so nice, so beautiful. But they never stay. They all come tumbling down. They break. They fall and break like china, china, can’t speak chinese, Slayer, sorry. Have to kill you instead – and Angel’s still talking. Why’s he talking? time to listen.
”Can’t speak chinese” comes from the first Slayer he killed, back in the Boxer Rebellion. His brain really is making weird connections.
Spike looks up and yes, Angel’s still there.
“Truth is, Spikey, you’re exactly what you’ve always been. A monster. I ought to know – after all, I made you. You’re mine.”
That’s a reference to what Spike says in Destiny: “Drusilla sired me. But you made me a monster.”
I’m mine? No, yours, his – third person, singular, possessive, that’s the way. His, hers, its, no apostrophe, that means it is as in it is a cat or it is a fireplace or it is a monstrous vampire crouching in a basement with blood all over his hands blood everywhere so much blood
Notice the sudden lack of punctuation.
I actually had it on a chart: an ongoing sine wave, tracking Spike’s sanity level throughout the fic. Whenever it was high, he’d be rational and punctuated, and whenever it went lower, he’d make crazy connections, think much faster, and have less and less punctuation.
Currently, he’s pretty low on the sanity scale.
Tastes delicious, doesn’t it? Blood is life…
No! No, I can’t. I won’t. Not anymore, I’m different, I’m going to be new.
The thing is, Spike still likes blood. He still likes killing. He’s still a vampire. He’s just… got guilt.
“Oh, baby, no. You don’t get to choose – you don’t get to change.” She knelt down in front of him, and it was her, Red’s girlfriend. “You’re evil, disgusting, repellent…” She smiled, and continued gently, “It’s okay, I don’t mind. After all, it’s not your fault.”
A lot of people commented on how creepy Tara was in this. Which was kinda the point. Making her evil and nice made her so much more evil…
Not my fault. No-one’s fault. Poor Spike is all alone and faultless, little, lost, innocent… no. Innocence is pure, good, shining, and entirely the wrong concept
wrong as anything ever was
all of it so wrong
He’s gone wrong, too.
and she’s not really here
she’s trying to trick me
Small amounts of sanity intrude for a moment…
That makes no sense. How can she trick you if she’s not here?
Somehow.
He shuts his eyes tightly so that he can’t see, and crouches in the corner, banging his head against the wall in the hope that she’ll stop being there.
Not real, nothing – all of it, so much nothing, nothing but
violence
betrayal
pain torture death laughter glee
Like I said, he’s still a vampire. His brain makes a logical connection (from experience) between “torture” and “glee” – and he’s horrified.
oh God what have I done?
I can’t
I did
If
Or
I could be more
I could choose
“Well, yes, you could.” Tara’s voice, soft and sweet, kept talking so beguilingly. “You could choose to die – that might work. It’s always an option. But really, why would you?”
I had to get him from here to, somehow, trying to eat someone innocent. I knew that. And it was hard. But making The First twist his arguments, every time, gradually sent him in the direction I wanted.
Poor William. Poor, poor William. Poor…
(Basically just Spike freaking out.)
“The fact is, evil is fun. Violence is fun.” Her face rippled and became… a man. From Boston or somewhere else, he’d never got his name. “Admit it – didn’t you have fun ripping my throat out?” His eyes were so near. “Remember my smell – my taste? You enjoyed that kill so much. And part of you still does.”
the grab, the snapping bones, the screams, the fear, the wonderful stinking fear, the thrill, the rush, better than the rides at Disneyland with the rollercoasters and the singing dolls and the spinning cups spinning spinning cups spinning round and round and round
The “singing dolls” are from It’s A Small World After All, and the “spinning cups” are from the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party. I have never been to Disneyland, but I have seen photos…
“Pain. Anger. Violence. Hate. It’s everything …which is good, because it’s all you get.” He laughed, and moved away.
Upside down.
It’s all back to front, inside out, and I enjoyed it.
No. Not this. Please. Why am I…
“Oh, Spike. You’re pathetic.”
He looks up – and Joyce was standing there, looking disappointed.
Joyce! Who’s being just as nice as Tara.
She shook her head. “You keep running around trying so hard, and all the time avoiding the real question. And it’s all so simple, when you get right down to it.”
Wow, he’s really got a thing about mothers, doesn’t he?
(I loved that line.)
Yes. Simple. So very simple. Good and evil – pick a side. Eeny, meeny, miney…
“It’s easier than that.” A little girl was sitting on a pipe nearby, swinging her legs back and forth. She grinned at him. “Easy-peasy. You’re evil. And that’s that.”
I’m evil. And that’s that. Evil evil evil evil evil
He instantly agrees with The First’s assessment of him. Not because he actually agrees – but because he has absolutely no ability to think coherently at the moment, so his first reaction to anything is complete agreement.
But he’s still trying hard…
What? No. That’s not – is it?
…and what do they mean I’ve got a thing about mothers?
*grins*
evil evil evilly evil evillest
“You can’t help it. What you are is what you ever will be. It’s out of your control.”
This was when I realised how to get Spike to do what I wanted. It stops being an argument of “are you good or bad?” and starts being “well, you can’t be good because you don’t have control” and by the time he’s stubbornly yelling that he does have control, the conversation’s moved from “control over whether you’re good” to “control over whether you can kill people” – without him even realising.
No. No, that’s-
I didn’t-
That was before, when up and down meant the same thing, before it-
I took control. I changed it. I made it all-
“No, silly.” She smirked at him, and started walking over, tauntingly. He just watches. “You didn’t change anything. You can’t. You have no power.”
But I changed. I became
(He did, too.)
“You’re silly, and weak…”
I won.
“…and feeble, and small…”
I was new.
“…and quite ridiculous…”
Her eyes – so taunting and cruel.
Her skin, so white and fresh.
her neck so appealing
Notice the progression of punctuation in those three sentences. He’s becoming faster, and much less controlled.
“…you’re nothing. Not anymore.”
she’s lying! lying wrong lying I can I did I will I have power
“You?” She laughed. “You don’t even have the power to hurt me. Can’t kill anymore.”
can
“Can’t hurt anymore.”
did
“Can’t drink anymore.”
will
“You can’t do anything.”
CAN!
FangsAngerHunger He snarls and grabs her to crush and kill and feed and DESTROY HE CAN HE WILL HE IS
This is drink number 4, from the original fic.
(In case you’re interested: 1 was a cocktail, 2 was microwaved blood in Giles’s house, 3 was lots of vodka with Buffy, and 5 was hot chocolate with marshmallows.)
…she melts away.
Nothing. Nothing there. Nothing at all.
…because, after all, she’s The First. There’s really nothing physical there to hold on to.
And he…
He almost…
You were going to kill her.
oh God
Angel raised an eyebrow. “See? The same old Spike. You never learn.”
The First really is having a lot of fun with him.
never-ever-ever… but no! I must! I will.
I will become something more.
I will be what she needs.
I will be what I should be.
Buffy laughed at him. “No,” she said. “You won’t.”
Also from the original fic. Part 1 ends with “yes”, part 2 with “no”, then “yes”, “no”, and finally “maybe”…
I hope you liked this!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-12-27 06:13 pm (UTC)And, omg, you had a sine chart? That's kind of awesome. And by kind of I mean YOU ARE SO COOL. :P
I think I kind of noticed the punctuation thing, but...not really? If that makes sense? Anyway, interesting.
Great commentary!
no subject
Date: 2009-12-27 09:57 pm (UTC)(Yep. I has sine charts. I am SO cool.)