Elizabeth Culmer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
edenfalling) wrote2020-08-26 09:47 pm
edenfalling) wrote2020-08-26 09:47 pm
Entry tags:
[Fic] "Building Blocks" -- The Magnus Archives
Summary: In which Sasha James explains her theory of life, the universe, and everything to Tim Stoker. Possibly they should both be more sober for this conversation. [840 words]
Note: Written 8/25/20 in response to the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fan_flashworks challenge: triangle, as part of the August 2020 amnesty round.
As per the community rules, this post will just be a link to the fic text onfan_flashworks until the current challenge closes on September 1, at which point I will move the actual ficlet over here. But for now, a link: Building Blocks
[ETA: the AO3 crosspost is now up!]
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Building Blocks
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Here's the secret: everything is basic shapes.
Okay, no, stop laughing; that didn't come out right. Let me try again. Everything is made of simple little pieces, and if you stick them together the right way, you get big complicated things. How's that?
I mean, yeah, of course it's obvious! That's because it's the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. Truth is obvious; beauty is truth, ipso facto lorem ipsum... fuck it, I don't know Latin, ignore that.
It's like-- it's like-- okay, when I was tiny, I think still in Reception? Maybe first year. That's not important. Yes, I did look very cute back then. Are you implying I don't still look cute? Ha! You're cute when you're too drunk to rescue yourself with a smooth line.
But anyway, back when I was tiny, I got sad one afternoon because I couldn't make the pictures I drew come out looking like the ideas in my head.
And my mum asked me why I was sad.
"Because I can't draw," I said. "I'm trying to draw a princess fighting a unicorn on top of a mountain but it just looks like scribbles."
And my mum got real quiet for a bit and thought about that, and then she said, "That sounds frustrating. But maybe you're just thinking about it from the wrong direction."
Okay, shut up, thoughts can so have directions. No, not like north and south. Metaphorical directions. Well, now you're just being contrary for the sake of it.
No, that does not make you cute. Why are you so hung up on cute tonight? I'm trying to tell you the secret truth behind everything. Shush and listen!
So my mum told me I was thinking in the wrong direction, and I said, "What's the right direction?"
She said, "Let's start small. Can you draw a triangle?"
I got out a new piece of paper and drew a triangle.
"Okay. Now do that again, but bigger."
I drew another triangle, but bigger.
"Doesn't that look a little bit like a mountain?" my mum said.
I think I made a face at her. Yeah, a lot like that one. But not that one! Stop trying to turn your face inside-out. It's a perfectly good face, even if it comes attached to all your ridiculosity. Wait, no, that's not a word. Ridiculous-- ridiculousness? Yes, that! Ridiculousness. Because you are a ridiculous man who keeps interrupting me when I am trying to tell you a story full of deep and important truths.
Right, where was I...?
Mountains, yes, thank you. So my mum grinned and said, "Stick a bunch of triangles together, and that makes a mountain. It's the same for other things. If you can draw a line and some circles or itty-bitty triangles, that's a tree and its leaves. If you can draw an oval and some lines with corners, that's a unicorn's body -- and then you add a square and another triangle for its head, and a line for the horn. A person's an oval, a circle, and some more lines with corners."
"That's just stick figures!" I said.
"You can squiggle the lines out and make them thick," my mum said, "and anyway, lots of artists got famous drawing basically stick figures, or sometimes just throwing paint on a big paper. The point is, when you're trying to draw a big, complicated thing, break it down into small, simple things. Anyone can draw a triangle, but if you put all the little simple things together, you can build whatever you want. So go on and draw some mountains."
Yes, I'm paraphrasing. Obviously. But the gist of the thing is there, which is the main point.
Anyway, I drew some mountains. Except after I colored them in, I realized I'd run out of space for the princess and the unicorn to fight, so I drew some trees instead and drew the princess riding the unicorn toward the moon, up in the sky above my jumble of triangles. I think I still have that picture around somewhere.
But the thing is, what my mum said, it's not only about art.
That's how reading works, yeah? You take some lines and bash them together into letters, and bash the letters into words, and the words into-- into epic poetry or Underground announcements or the entire Archives of the Magnus Institute. Whatever you fucking want.
Code works that way too: lines into letters into commands into spreadsheets and YouTube and robots on Mars.
And people-- people are a little messier, but it's still quarks into atoms into chemicals into proteins into all the mucky tangle of emotions and goo that makes a human. Which is my very long way of saying, Mister Timothy Stoker, that yes, I am into you a little, but I don't think I'm ready to take that basic shape and build it into anything bigger than friends with occasional benefits.
We'll stick with triangles for now.
And yeah, bring your ridiculous face over here and kiss me.
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End of Ficlet
---------------------------------------------
...
I just realized I forgot to crosspost this yesterday, whoops!
Note: Written 8/25/20 in response to the
fan_flashworks challenge: triangle, as part of the August 2020 amnesty round.As per the community rules, this post will just be a link to the fic text on
fan_flashworks until the current challenge closes on September 1, at which point I will move the actual ficlet over here. But for now, a link: Building Blocks[ETA: the AO3 crosspost is now up!]
---------------------------------------------
Building Blocks
---------------------------------------------
Here's the secret: everything is basic shapes.
Okay, no, stop laughing; that didn't come out right. Let me try again. Everything is made of simple little pieces, and if you stick them together the right way, you get big complicated things. How's that?
I mean, yeah, of course it's obvious! That's because it's the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. Truth is obvious; beauty is truth, ipso facto lorem ipsum... fuck it, I don't know Latin, ignore that.
It's like-- it's like-- okay, when I was tiny, I think still in Reception? Maybe first year. That's not important. Yes, I did look very cute back then. Are you implying I don't still look cute? Ha! You're cute when you're too drunk to rescue yourself with a smooth line.
But anyway, back when I was tiny, I got sad one afternoon because I couldn't make the pictures I drew come out looking like the ideas in my head.
And my mum asked me why I was sad.
"Because I can't draw," I said. "I'm trying to draw a princess fighting a unicorn on top of a mountain but it just looks like scribbles."
And my mum got real quiet for a bit and thought about that, and then she said, "That sounds frustrating. But maybe you're just thinking about it from the wrong direction."
Okay, shut up, thoughts can so have directions. No, not like north and south. Metaphorical directions. Well, now you're just being contrary for the sake of it.
No, that does not make you cute. Why are you so hung up on cute tonight? I'm trying to tell you the secret truth behind everything. Shush and listen!
So my mum told me I was thinking in the wrong direction, and I said, "What's the right direction?"
She said, "Let's start small. Can you draw a triangle?"
I got out a new piece of paper and drew a triangle.
"Okay. Now do that again, but bigger."
I drew another triangle, but bigger.
"Doesn't that look a little bit like a mountain?" my mum said.
I think I made a face at her. Yeah, a lot like that one. But not that one! Stop trying to turn your face inside-out. It's a perfectly good face, even if it comes attached to all your ridiculosity. Wait, no, that's not a word. Ridiculous-- ridiculousness? Yes, that! Ridiculousness. Because you are a ridiculous man who keeps interrupting me when I am trying to tell you a story full of deep and important truths.
Right, where was I...?
Mountains, yes, thank you. So my mum grinned and said, "Stick a bunch of triangles together, and that makes a mountain. It's the same for other things. If you can draw a line and some circles or itty-bitty triangles, that's a tree and its leaves. If you can draw an oval and some lines with corners, that's a unicorn's body -- and then you add a square and another triangle for its head, and a line for the horn. A person's an oval, a circle, and some more lines with corners."
"That's just stick figures!" I said.
"You can squiggle the lines out and make them thick," my mum said, "and anyway, lots of artists got famous drawing basically stick figures, or sometimes just throwing paint on a big paper. The point is, when you're trying to draw a big, complicated thing, break it down into small, simple things. Anyone can draw a triangle, but if you put all the little simple things together, you can build whatever you want. So go on and draw some mountains."
Yes, I'm paraphrasing. Obviously. But the gist of the thing is there, which is the main point.
Anyway, I drew some mountains. Except after I colored them in, I realized I'd run out of space for the princess and the unicorn to fight, so I drew some trees instead and drew the princess riding the unicorn toward the moon, up in the sky above my jumble of triangles. I think I still have that picture around somewhere.
But the thing is, what my mum said, it's not only about art.
That's how reading works, yeah? You take some lines and bash them together into letters, and bash the letters into words, and the words into-- into epic poetry or Underground announcements or the entire Archives of the Magnus Institute. Whatever you fucking want.
Code works that way too: lines into letters into commands into spreadsheets and YouTube and robots on Mars.
And people-- people are a little messier, but it's still quarks into atoms into chemicals into proteins into all the mucky tangle of emotions and goo that makes a human. Which is my very long way of saying, Mister Timothy Stoker, that yes, I am into you a little, but I don't think I'm ready to take that basic shape and build it into anything bigger than friends with occasional benefits.
We'll stick with triangles for now.
And yeah, bring your ridiculous face over here and kiss me.
---------------------------------------------
End of Ficlet
---------------------------------------------
...
I just realized I forgot to crosspost this yesterday, whoops!