mandolin: (Default)
Mandolin ([personal profile] mandolin) wrote2003-05-04 12:01 am

you asked for it...

Submitted for your... well, okay, [livejournal.com profile] green_luv's approval... my first posted fanfic. The sequel's worse, but too long to post here.

From August 1996, the short Gargoyles fanfic, "Lessons."

(Spoilers for "Walkabout" - you never saw that ep, you won't understand a WORD of this. There's my warnings.)



Lessons


The alley was empty.

No sound echoed down its black maw, save for the crinkling of
a bit of newspaper that blew across the asphalt. It was a lifeless
tunnel of brick and concrete that led to other, better places in
the city. For the moment, at least, this particular alleyway was
no better than an empty void.

For the moment.

The piercing shriek of an alarm, coupled with the smashing of
a shop window, shattered the stillness as completely as the glass
pane. As the alarm continued to whine, a dark figure bolted into
the alley, running as fast as his feet could move. He possessively
gripped the straps of his now bulging knapsack as he made a sharp
left amd dropped down a manhole into his own little network of
escape tunnels.

As he breathed a sigh of relief--he was used enough to the
fetid air to take a deep breath--he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Mind telling me where you're going with that, mate?"

With fast, catlike reflexes, the thief spun around--but not
fast enough, he realized as he was lifted up several feet into the
air. Looking down his captor's arm, he visibly gulped.

A tall man--at least, the face loked like a man's--was
effortlessly dangling him in the air with one arm. His face was
all that the thief could see save for his massive suit of body
armor, glistening silver in the moonlight. Reaching in his pocket,
the thief whipped out a pistol of sorts and fired.

The resulting laser blast bounced off harmlessly. For a
second, he could only stare at the laser pistol in shock--the guy
he'd got it from in black market had assured him it would melt a
hole in the most sophisticated alloy. Either he'd been lied to, or
this guy was more than he seemed. Hand shaking, he dropped the
useless pistol to the ground.

"That's better," the man said calmly. "Now you're gonna tell
me where you got that little toy." All the thief could muster was
a slight whimper, and the man shook him violently, causing his long
limbs to dangle and whip about like a puppet's.

Swallowing, he blurted out everything that had happened the
night he'd met that strange person down in the black market area--
where it was, how much he'd gotten it for, and anything else that
he could recall. With a nod, the man released him, letting him fall
to the asphalt with a sickening thud.

He looked up through a haze of dizziness to see the man raise
a hand. "Say good night." The end of the fist melted into a sharp
claw as it sliced down. "No!" the man yelled as the claw melted
away just in time to deliver a crack on the head and blackness.

* * *

"We do not understand," the soft, toneless voice of the Matrix
echoed as Dingo stooped and picked up the unconscious thief's body.
"He was a criminal. You have said that criminals must be punished."

Dingo grunted as he picked up the pistol with his free hand,
examining it for any markings. "Yeah, but not all of these scum
deserve that sort of punishment. All this fella did was steal some
people's money. That ain't worth smashing his head in."

The Matrix seemed utterly confused as Dingo carried his burden
back up to street level. "Should he not be punished?"

"There are other ways of punishment, mate," the big man grunted,
wrapping a length of wire he'd found around the thief. "Like prison,
which is where this one's going as soon as I drop him off at the
crime scene."

"Prison?"

"Uhhh..." Dingo strove to find the right word. "Incarceration. We
get him locked up in a correctional facility for an amount of time so
he thinks twice before pulling something like this." He eyed the
pistol. "Besides, it ain't him we want. I--" here he corrected
himself--"uh, we have to find out where these things are coming from.
Can't allow whoever's selling these weapons to spread them all over
Sydney."

He turned the corner, glanced around, and quickly fastened
the thief to the lightpole beside the jewelry store. "Just gotta leave
my card." He tossed a small bit of paper with his old Pack insignia on
top of the still unconscious man.

"Why can we not allow this?" the Matrix asked as they made a
swift getaway.

Dingo sighed. Sometimes, this business of teaching law and order
to a computer could get plain annoying. He'd hoped that it would learn
as they went along. Now they were on their first big job, and it was
asking a question a second. "I'll tell you once we get back to camp.
I don't want to explain to the cops why I'm wandering the streets in
talking battle armor."

* * * * *

The waves were crashing gently on the shore as Dingo stretched
and sat down on the blanket spread out by his tent. Nearby, there was
a small campfire, first-aid kit, and a pack of food. He really didn't
need much more. Stretching once again, he was grateful that the Matrix
had agreed on temporary separations to let him get some comfortable
sleep. Not that the suit wasn't comfortable, but he couldn't take a
dip or a bath in it.

That was unheard of. Dingo had lived for the water ever since he
was three years old and his father had first taught him to swim. His
father had taught him out of safety only; for the first half of his
life, his family had lived beside the ocean. Dingo had taken such an
interest in it that his father almost considered training the boy for
the Olympics.

What would he think if he saw me now, Dingo thought as he took a
gulp of fresh air. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen his folks in so
long that he didn't know where they were. Idly, he wondered how his
parents and sister had been doing the past ten years.

He thought for a second about calling them up and seeing them
again. Now that the Pack was gone, they had no way of seeing him at
all. Then again, he didn't know how he'd explain Matrix to them.

Dingo sat up straighter and looked over at the silver-gray form
nearby on the beach. He frowned as he watched its antics. "You pick a
form and stick with it?"

The Matrix was shifting forms at a dizzying rate, mimicking the
rocks and plants around it. "We are merely trying to ingratiate
ourselves with the forms of vegetation in the area," it responded.

Oh, lord. "Well, can you just stop shifting and hold a shape for
to talk to you? I got to get you straight on the pistol business."

The Matrix, mercifully, stopped and took a vaguely human form.
"Tell us why this cannot be allowed."

"Well..." Dingo paused, unsure where to begin. "Okay, mate. The
big goal of law and order is to protect the people. If we let any
trigger-happy psycho get his hands on one of these," here he held up
the gun, "he could blow away a truckload of innocent folks faster than
any normal gun could. To let that happen would be violatin' the code
of law and order."

"Aahh.." the Matrix drifted off. "So we must protect humans'
physical well-being. Then why stop that human this evening? He was not
hurting anyone."

"He could have, with a gun like this," Dingo answered. "And he
was hurting people already, by stealing their money. So then he was
taking away the stuff they need to make a living. That's hurting them,
too." He paused, seeing that the Matrix still didn't get it. "There're
lots of ways to punish a crook, but the punishment's gotta fit the
crime. Like that thief, for one. I wasn't going to kill him just for
stealing someone's money, but I couldn't just let him go. Then he'd be
free to try it again. We lock up crooks to keep people safe from them
or to teach them a lesson."

"Where is the order?" the Matrix asked.

Dingo winced, remembering its obsession with order in the world.
"Uh, well, the order here is that if we keep these guys from hurting
and cheating good people who obey the rules, things run smoother. If
we can stop the crimes, regular folks can get on with their lives
without the crime getting in the way." He looked warily at the Matrix.
He still didn't exactly trust it, and hoped he'd said the right thing.

The Matrix nodded its "head" of sorts. "We see the order in that."

With a deep sigh of relief, Dingo rolled up his blanket and
opened the tent flap. "Glad to hear it, mate. Now I got to get some
sleep so we can get back to those gun shipments tomorrow."

"We thank you," he heard the Matrix say as he pulled the blanket
over his shoulders. "We did not know law and order was so intriguingly
complex."

A computer would like something complicated, Dingo thought. "You
don't know the half of it, mate," he murmured as he settled into
sleep. "You just don't know the half of it."

The End

[identity profile] xanphibian.livejournal.com 2003-05-03 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)
First I would like to say... yes! I'm lazy! whee!

And secondly... *stomps foot* I have YET to see a first fic around here that is worse than mine. SO unfair. *is five*

Really, this is pretty good. For your first fic. :)
mtgat: (Default)

[personal profile] mtgat 2003-05-04 07:00 am (UTC)(link)
I always liked this story. It's simple, it's character-driven (without that phrase meaning "soppy and plotless"), and it offers a quiet study of two characters no one else had even *touched* in Gargs fanfic at that time. It doesn't rely on an improbable plotline to set up an angsty situation just to torture the characters. It doesn't revolve around an OC, or need one to make the story move. Compared to most of the first stories out there, this one totally rocks. Don't be ashamed of it. Yes, you've learned more since you wrote it, and your style has improved, but you were already good.