[fic] The Hall
Jan. 10th, 2008 12:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crankyoldmanFandom: Original
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Virginia was named after a crazy person.
Notes: Just something that popped into my head because I live in a very old dorm. Posted here because apparently GJ is dying and since I don't have semagic on this comp, well.
Standing in the hall of all the dead ambitious girls was in fact jarring.
Their graffiti was scribbled on the old desks that had been shoved in the corner of the laundry room, and she found herself tracing the Amelias and Theresas in loops and whirls of trained penmanship. Once they actually taught that along side the mathematics and drafting. Maybe some of their bobby socks were still tucked behind the gleaming new washing machines.
She was partly offended by the intrusion of the new in such a space. Like the side sitting room full of worn formal chairs that seemed to chatter amiably amongst themselves around a fireplace adored with cranes.
Amiably, if not for the uncomfortable ultra-modern black chair with the swinging flat surface.
"You know, you talk more to yourself than anyone else, Virginia."
Of course she talked to herself more. It was dangerous when she talked to other people. The words came out and tugged at people's actions like strings. Virginia was not an unwilling puppeteer, though, simply a tired one.
She shrugged and continued tracing.
"So what does that mean, though. You know, what you said." Shirley had been a student once, but she couldn't handle the pressure. She hadn't bothered to leave the hall, though. Some of the girls never left. Virginia couldn't always see them, but she knew they were there. Shirley was just an example.
Virginia was not going to talk to her. There was mopping to do. Dead ambitions to wring out and wash into the drain.
"I saw your picture, you know." Clearly the girl was not going to let her be, today.
"That was a long time ago."
"Only twenty years ago. You don't look much different. I don't get it though."
What Shirley didn't know was the emptiness behind paintings on the third floor and what waking up with a mouth full of invisible mothballs was like. Everything eventually went into decay, and people just placed new things on top of it. Houses on Indian burial grounds and roads over wagon trails.
Virginia had such a way with words. And she pulled them along Progress.
"I mean, you're kind of famous. But you're--"
"Nothing more than another artifact here. I prefer it that way."
Oh, her parents had been so vogue to name her after a crazy person. People tended to name their daughters after flowers and virtues in that time. She supposed it wasn't much different now; they were named after cars and faded beauties now.
"You don't have to be mean about it. What, you think I'm going to gossip or something?"
That did make her laugh, though. Because Shirley had not been taught penmanship or manners. She was all sportif and no class. Even the debutantes were like plastic Miss America dolls now.
If only Virginia could keep such observations from moving with her lips. Shirley wouldn't ask questions then. But Virginia didn't often talk to anyone, so she didn't often notice when she started.
And maybe...
"It was only words. Nothing real, nothing substantial. Now they teach girls to build skyscrapers. I only had words."
Shirley blinked. In Virginia's time, she never would have even had the chance to fail at bettering her position. Oh, the old guard was a rigid and snobbish one, for certain, but underneath there was a truth. But it had nothing to do with birthright or cleverness.
No, the only difference really was a matter of will.
"We of the gentler set were supposed to discourage the violence. Because we were clever enough, we were supposed to rally against such a destructive force as war."
And she remembered how generals had once shared their cigars with her. And how words had curled with the smoke. Because the things that she couldn't keep to herself permeated so much differently when spoken. If she believed in magic, there would have been something to say to that kind of influence.
But no, this was a world of energy and power. Not dust.
"Those with the hands to do so built things. You cannot blame something that acts in creation of anything. It was the things we said that allowed them to be used for different purposes."
"You make it sound like--"
"--Like I was to blame? No, I was not."
In the main entrance of the hall, an imposing grey browed woman threatened this year's girls without saying a thing. She, the cold mother figure of yet another set of misguided idealism.
"But I had power, and one day, I looked at myself."
Only the rooms contained the crystal clear mirrors that the technological age could make. In the musty places she frequented, they were tarnished with age. Her ash skin was almost golden in image.
"I looked at myself and realized that I had no will at all. Not of my own. Only a desire to prove. To be contrary."
Shirley had never been so quiet. Maybe it had been better just speaking to herself.
"So now I serve, until I can create of my own will. Not a reaction to someone else's."
And maybe she was guarding the others who had not had the chance to realize it. In the age of energy and no restraint, there were still a few that hung in the corners. Some that sat in the same chairs.
"And no, I do not think you will gossip. Because no one will believe you."
Shirley had enough class not to respond. Well, there was something.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Virginia was named after a crazy person.
Notes: Just something that popped into my head because I live in a very old dorm. Posted here because apparently GJ is dying and since I don't have semagic on this comp, well.
Standing in the hall of all the dead ambitious girls was in fact jarring.
Their graffiti was scribbled on the old desks that had been shoved in the corner of the laundry room, and she found herself tracing the Amelias and Theresas in loops and whirls of trained penmanship. Once they actually taught that along side the mathematics and drafting. Maybe some of their bobby socks were still tucked behind the gleaming new washing machines.
She was partly offended by the intrusion of the new in such a space. Like the side sitting room full of worn formal chairs that seemed to chatter amiably amongst themselves around a fireplace adored with cranes.
Amiably, if not for the uncomfortable ultra-modern black chair with the swinging flat surface.
"You know, you talk more to yourself than anyone else, Virginia."
Of course she talked to herself more. It was dangerous when she talked to other people. The words came out and tugged at people's actions like strings. Virginia was not an unwilling puppeteer, though, simply a tired one.
She shrugged and continued tracing.
"So what does that mean, though. You know, what you said." Shirley had been a student once, but she couldn't handle the pressure. She hadn't bothered to leave the hall, though. Some of the girls never left. Virginia couldn't always see them, but she knew they were there. Shirley was just an example.
Virginia was not going to talk to her. There was mopping to do. Dead ambitions to wring out and wash into the drain.
"I saw your picture, you know." Clearly the girl was not going to let her be, today.
"That was a long time ago."
"Only twenty years ago. You don't look much different. I don't get it though."
What Shirley didn't know was the emptiness behind paintings on the third floor and what waking up with a mouth full of invisible mothballs was like. Everything eventually went into decay, and people just placed new things on top of it. Houses on Indian burial grounds and roads over wagon trails.
Virginia had such a way with words. And she pulled them along Progress.
"I mean, you're kind of famous. But you're--"
"Nothing more than another artifact here. I prefer it that way."
Oh, her parents had been so vogue to name her after a crazy person. People tended to name their daughters after flowers and virtues in that time. She supposed it wasn't much different now; they were named after cars and faded beauties now.
"You don't have to be mean about it. What, you think I'm going to gossip or something?"
That did make her laugh, though. Because Shirley had not been taught penmanship or manners. She was all sportif and no class. Even the debutantes were like plastic Miss America dolls now.
If only Virginia could keep such observations from moving with her lips. Shirley wouldn't ask questions then. But Virginia didn't often talk to anyone, so she didn't often notice when she started.
And maybe...
"It was only words. Nothing real, nothing substantial. Now they teach girls to build skyscrapers. I only had words."
Shirley blinked. In Virginia's time, she never would have even had the chance to fail at bettering her position. Oh, the old guard was a rigid and snobbish one, for certain, but underneath there was a truth. But it had nothing to do with birthright or cleverness.
No, the only difference really was a matter of will.
"We of the gentler set were supposed to discourage the violence. Because we were clever enough, we were supposed to rally against such a destructive force as war."
And she remembered how generals had once shared their cigars with her. And how words had curled with the smoke. Because the things that she couldn't keep to herself permeated so much differently when spoken. If she believed in magic, there would have been something to say to that kind of influence.
But no, this was a world of energy and power. Not dust.
"Those with the hands to do so built things. You cannot blame something that acts in creation of anything. It was the things we said that allowed them to be used for different purposes."
"You make it sound like--"
"--Like I was to blame? No, I was not."
In the main entrance of the hall, an imposing grey browed woman threatened this year's girls without saying a thing. She, the cold mother figure of yet another set of misguided idealism.
"But I had power, and one day, I looked at myself."
Only the rooms contained the crystal clear mirrors that the technological age could make. In the musty places she frequented, they were tarnished with age. Her ash skin was almost golden in image.
"I looked at myself and realized that I had no will at all. Not of my own. Only a desire to prove. To be contrary."
Shirley had never been so quiet. Maybe it had been better just speaking to herself.
"So now I serve, until I can create of my own will. Not a reaction to someone else's."
And maybe she was guarding the others who had not had the chance to realize it. In the age of energy and no restraint, there were still a few that hung in the corners. Some that sat in the same chairs.
"And no, I do not think you will gossip. Because no one will believe you."
Shirley had enough class not to respond. Well, there was something.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-18 11:46 pm (UTC)~ astralavator