Monday 13 October 2008

A Series of Fortunate Events -- Ar Tonelico fanfiction (Mir, OC Reyvateils, 1,560 words, AU, warning for extreme sappy cuteness)

Fluffy happy fanfic with Mir and a couple of OC Reyvateils. Yes, Leish is actually a male Reyvateil; he was born female and was physically altered to appear male, to match his own feelings about himself. Few people know he's a Reyvateil, though. In any case, they're properly members of the Church of Elemia, not Platina researchers; I'm just appropriating them here for a completely AU story.



"...You're not actually eating that, are you?"

"Hm?" Vianchiel looked up from the pastry she'd been prodding mercilessly with her fork, now reduced to a mess of flaky jam-smeared scraps. "No, not really." She waved a hand in the direction of the once-dessert, and watched her coworker steal a forkful. "I don't know. It feels wrong somehow to be just... taking lunch in the cafeteria, chatting, joking, like this were any other day. There should be some sort of an... I don't know, celebration or something. We should be marking this occasion."

"With something better than pastries?" Leish said through the crumbs. "But yeah, I see that. Probably shouldn't celebrate until she comes out, though. Chickens, counting 'em, all that."

"Yeah. And she's more precious than a chicken, too-- not that chickens aren't important, or anything. I'm guessing taking her out anywhere isn't going to be an option. I mean, she's going to be so... new." Her voice held an element of wonder. "On her first day, it'd be too much."

Leish hmmed noncommitally.

"I guess we could have a room party," Vianchiel added.

"I guess. Though we'd probably have to cut the snacks. Lamarre'll kill us if we interfere with her optimal nutritional balance." His tone placed quotes around the last three words, and he grinned a little.

"...Does that mean she can never have chocolate?" She pouted a bit. "Because that would just be sad."

"Heh. Probably no chocolate for her, no."

"So unfair." Vianchiel shook her head in mock indignation. "I really hope we're going to get to celebrate. It's like, aah, what if something goes wrong? It's such a delicate situation... I mean, we're creating life, from scratch, ourselves, and if just one little thing... just, it would be terrible if something got messed up, you know? We can't just... I mean, it's not like a miscarriage, even, where the baby never really had a chance to be a full person... she's already a person, she's just not awake yet."

"It's not like she's the first Beta," said Leish. "I've never heard of anything going wrong with any of the others. The whole system's stacked with failsafes to keep that sort of thing from happening."

"I guess." A protracted pause. "...I just want to go let her out right now. I want to give her a hug, just... welcome her to this world."

Leish smiled. "I don't think any of us can wait to see her."


***

Vianchiel rubbed a hand longingly over the smooth capsule, as if she could somehow reach through to the lifeform within. "Time to wake up, baby girl," she said to her mirror image, the metal misting up with the heat of her breath.

It must be so cold in there. She glanced over at the cot they'd set up for the newborn Reyvateil. At least we have blankets. The temp in here's tolerable for a clothed adult, just about. I guess she really is just like a baby... she's so going to freak out when the air first hits her. She wadded up the blankets from the cot and set them on a table by the capsule, then, with a shaky exhale, plunked herself down at the computer terminal.

Her fingers worked quickly over the keyboard, entering activation codes committed to memory. A confirmation box, yellow and ominous, sprang into life with a static snap, brightly-glowing photons overriding pixels that had been dark for days. Vianchiel winced as she confirmed the dialog, her heart tearing at her throat. The countdown would give her time to ensure she really wanted to commit-- a safeguard against its being activated too early, and Vianchiel had nightmare flashes of a half-formed monster, crying piteously, stumbling out in a wash of primordial goo-- but, at this late stage, that fact only heightened her anxiety. She didn't need to wait any longer. Everything was ready. All that remained was the final boot sequence, and an agonising few minutes of praying the creation had been a success.

A... R... T... E.... A voice echoed the glowing letters in artificial tones, a novel way of counting down from ten. She managed a tiny smile at that, but the new dialog that winked into the centre of the screen made the smile die on her lips. WARNING: Last chance to deactivate creation process. Hit any key to abort. Oh, what if someone were to come running in right now and nudge her, just a little? What if her own fingers, poised to confirm the next dialog, were to slip? --she pulled her hands back instinctively. But in a few moments the dialogue faded out, replaced by a new, equally intimidating yet at the same time oddly relieving box. Countdown complete. Finalising instruction set; irreversible phase entered. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO SHUT DOWN THE SYSTEM.

Vianchiel glanced at the faceless metal tube. I wish I could see you. I wish I could know how you're doing.

Her heart leapt painfully at the spinning up of machinery, the hum-whirr of power juicing the systems.

Are your eyes open in there? What do you look like?

Then a clear voice cut the air, distorted by the tinny structure to the point of sounding as digitised as the rest, yet unmistakeably emanating from inside the capsule. It wasn't really her voice, just a translation of her thoughts through the machines that monitored her mind, but from the little quirks and quavers in it she could almost imagine how she'd sound when she spoke for real.

"BIOS reboot. System reboot."

System reboot? Was that supposed to happen? She snatched a sheaf of notes off the table, leafing through with trembling hands. No... that was normal. She remembered now being briefed on the initialisation procedure. Her memory was just shot from stress.

"ID program... registration." The hum in the room grew louder, the symphonic power lines feeding into the capsule purring into life. She's connecting with the Tower... amazing. This whole building surrounding us... the walls, the ceiling... right now, they echo with her name.

"Artificial intelligence boot...." And that was when Vianchiel really started to shake, gripping the notes in a clammy fist. She's waking up. She's really waking up....

"Consciousness awakening...." She's alive. Everything's going to be okay. ...she's conscious. Oh gods. What if she knows we're here? What do I say?

"Network install confirmation...." We made this. We did this. We took life, the gift of the gods, in our hands and reverse-engineered it.

"Completion...." We made life. We made life. We've never done anything so amazing since we first made fire; this is greater yet. She's really, truly alive....

"My name is... Mir...."

The door to the capsule hissed open, and Vianchiel didn't have time to take her in before she found herself rushing forward, spilling over herself in her haste to get her out from under all that entrapment. The restraints slid back of their own accord, but the huge, heavy mask, a black squidlike thing almost sealed to the poor girl's face, had to be lifted up off her head and pushed back into a storage chute behind her.

The eyes that blinked back at Vianchiel were deep red, accentuated by the blotchy rings on her skin where the mask had peeled away. The researcher almost startled at that, but such depths of sincerity welled in those eyes that she couldn't help but find them fond, even with the odd colouration. Her damp black hair looked in need of a brush, and her skin was similarly clammy. Her arms now free, she drew them around herself, shivering, eyes curious and wide.

"Oh--" In all her flusterment, she'd forgotten Mir would need warmth. She grabbed up the blankets and, gently guiding the pale, wet Reyvateil down to the ground with one hand, gathered her up in them as soon as there was room, dabbing the chill moisture from her face with the corner of one. Mir's gaze continued to search her; she struggled to vocalise on her own, her throat working visibly, but all she managed was a muted croak, and tears of panic began to well in her eyes. She groped and lurched back in the direction of her capsule.

"It's all right. It's all right." Vianchiel restrained the bundled Reyvateil, hugging her tightly. "It's okay. It's just the outside. I know it's cold and you can't speak and that doesn't feel nice, but you're going to be fine." Leading her over to the cot, she coaxed Mir to sit up on it, which she did, without sound or protest, once she figured out how.

Vianchiel stepped back to really look at her, but there wasn't much to look at. Mir's head poked out of a swaddle of blankets, only visible from the nose up. She couldn't help but crack a giggle at the Reyvateil-cocoon and the ever-so-serious expression that peered out from it. That aside, what she could see of her was quite beautiful, in an almost unearthly sort of way.

Mir tried again for sound, managing a grating "hwaaa" that sounded a bit like a noisy bird. She startled at her own voice, the roughness of it evidently strange to her, and afterwards looked positively mortified.

Vianchiel hmmed and moved in the direction of the fridge. "I know just what you need. Something to soothe your throat."

Mir scrutinised her intently as she removed a small glass jar of chocolate spread. Vianchiel grinned with delight. "Just a taste can't hurt."

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Nice young ladies spoon-feeding chocolate to Mir... Do I sense a touch of wish-fulfillment here?
(Just teasing!)