Post by jessebaker on Jan 14, 2012 1:24:24 GMT -8
Something i wrote for the closing of the forum. in fast fiction format. A meditation of what happens to old tv or cartoon characters when their shows are cancelled.
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He didn't know where he was, when he woke to find himself in the desert at night. The landscape was bleak in it's desolation and yet, intensely humid. He walked endlessly it seemed through the desert, dressed in a suit and carrying some sort of metal badge with him. And after what seemed like an eternity, endlessly walking, he forgot who and what he was; endless days (or was it nights) had stripped him of only one thing: finding a way out of the desert. Keep going, pray that someone was out there to save him.
The desert seemed to go on and all with no end in sight. There were only a bare handful of stars in the sky, barely giving the stranger enough light to see where he was going. The heat was horrific, like the heat one feels during the worst part of a Californian summer. He desperately screamed for someone, anyone to hear him. The stranger would stop, scream in frantic hope that someone would hear him and come to his rescue. Occassionall, when the strain of walking became too much for him, the stranger would just collapse upon the sand covered ground and cry. He would cry, wondering in his head what he could have done in his life to deserve such a cruel fate.
The only item he had one him was a small metallic badge that was originally attached to his belt. It was too dark for him to read what was on his badge, which he removed and placed in his jacket's pocket in order to keep from losing it. If only there was some light! He could read the badge and maybe find out who he was!
So he walked. He walked and walked and walked endless miles before finally he saw a light in the distance. A fire burning ever so dimly, several miles ahead of him. With what little energy he had left in him at the time, he ran as fast as he could towards the fire. Praying that there was someone there who could answer his questions.
But as he ran towards the fire, three figures began to shift in the darkness as his dreams were answered. People!
“Help me! Please help me! I woke up in the desert and need help finding my way home!”
As he got closer, he saw the three figures near the fire and found that two of them were women! One was a red headed young girl with a green jacket and black skirt. Another was an older woman, black hair and dressed stylishly in a flowing, loose fitting white coat. The coat had a hood which covered her head and had fur fringe on it.
But off in the distance there was the third figure, who was male. He was dressed in black, and looked as though he could be Russian.
“So you finally arrived! We were afraid you would never find your way to where we were at!” the man spoke, his voice cheerful yet his eyes, lit by the fire, were cold like a shark's.
“My name is Bester. My friend over there is Romanadvoratelundar. And next to her, is a sarcastic young lady...”
“Daria....” the young lass said as she offered her hand to the stranger.
“I don't remember my name...”
“Common for those who spend as much wandering the wasteland like you did for an extended amount of time. It's a wonder that your beard is still neatly trimmed...” Romanadvoratelundar stated.
“Beard? He clearly has a mustache. One I assume he grew because he couldn't grow a proper goatee” said the woman identified as Daria.
“Really ladies?” the man said as he walked up to the women, standing right next to the one in white.
“He's clean shaven from what I see. But then again...” the man said as he turned to the woman in white, who in Alfred Bester's eyes was a young lass with straight blonde hair, a pink dress coat on and white pants, with a farmer's hat on her head.
“We all see each other in different ways.”
The stranger sat down by the fire, removing the badge from his pocket. With the light of the roaring fire in front of him, he saw that it was a police badge. LAPD.
“I'm a cop. A police officer...”
“Probably a detective, given you are wearing a suit.” Daria replied, as she watched the stranger carefully.
“Do you have a name?” Bester asked as he removed a black glove from his right hand.
“I... it's been so long. I can't seem to remember.”
“It's ok. We are hear to help you. To take you to a place where you will always be remembered. Where you can be safe” Bester said as he put his bare hand upon the stranger's shoulder.
“We should tell him who he is. What he did.” Daria thought to herself as she stared at Bester.
“In time. Detective Gardocki has only just come through the wasteland. In time he will come to deal with his sins. Like I did.” Bester replied telepathically to his young companion.
“Like us, you are one of the forgotten. You story is over but you will live on. Like us. In a place where you will never be forgotten.”
The stranger felt a brief wave of nausea as Bester raised his open hand towards him. Bester figured the least he could do, to speed up the process, was to let the poor guy remember his name.
“Ronnie... My name is Ronnie!” he said, as he felt his brain catch fire, only too briefly as he remembered his name.
Daria watched the floor show with her usual cold detachment. She had been gangpressed into participating in this retrieval, helping another lost character transition to the next stage of existence. This was largely because of her own lengthy walk through “The Wasteland”, where she was found by three figures: a woman named Claire that claimed to be a prosecutor, a British secret agent who Daria had mistakenly identified at “Number 6”, and a teenage girl that was Daria's age but who's hair was a soothing blue color. They aided her in her transition to her new existence, one that Ronnie would now be transitioned into. A new existence where he will live on in the hearts and minds of others.
Daria looked at the fire, which roared with intensity. It would last the four for the time being, as Ronnie regains his basic memory of who and what he was. Once enough of his memory was restored and the others informing him of what he was and where he was going, they would continue into the night. To their new home, where they would live such exciting new adventures. And who knows, maybe like Bester, Ronnie might find redemption or at least penance for his crimes. Anything was possible, Daria thought to herself. Having spent most of her existence as a cartoon character, holding those that she loved at arms' distance behind a wall of sarcasm, she found herself unburden by those restraints when she became a being bound only by the imagination of those who followed her exploits on TV. Absurd, but so is life Daria thought. And if her friendship with Romanadvoratelundar had taught her anything, sometimes the most absurd aspects of human existence are some of the most enjoyable ones.
“Penny for your thought?” Romanadvoratelundar asked Daria as she offered her some jelly beans. Daria took several from the bag Romanadvoratelundar held. They watched carefully as Bester explain what Ronnie really was and how as a fictional character, existing only in the mind of others now that the vehicle in which he appeared in had been canceled and left the airwaves, he was now able to move onto a realm where he would live again. In the minds of the fans who watched his show and cheered him on, no matter what he did good or bad.
The younger Romanadvoratelundar would have hated this, allowing someone like Bester aid in helping characters cross over. But the older, wiser Romanadvoratelundar was willing to give people a second chance so long as they actually changed for the better. Like Bester; he used to be from the future, a literal “thought police” police officer before he changed after crossing over. In time, maybe Detective Gardocki would too. The potential was there, for most of his sins were the sins of willfull blindness of the evil of his closest friends and loved ones. And if someone like Bester or his kind, the Starscreams and the Capricas and the Magnetos can change, so can Detective Gardocki.
“Thinking about the past. How all of this was still kind of surreal. Like a dream...”
“Dreams are like the imagination; they are worlds which the mortal mind can only enter in the most abstract fashion possible. But for us fictional characters, they are whole new worlds which we can explore at our leisure so long as we are remembered by someone.”
Daria just smiled, a sad meloncolly smile towards her friend as she leaned her weary head onto her shoulders. Romanadvoratelundar smiled in return as she put her hand over Daria's shoulders. The fire continued to burn at a moderate pace, as they knew they had all of the time in the world to help their friend, preparing him for eternity in his new existence, in the realm of imagination.
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He didn't know where he was, when he woke to find himself in the desert at night. The landscape was bleak in it's desolation and yet, intensely humid. He walked endlessly it seemed through the desert, dressed in a suit and carrying some sort of metal badge with him. And after what seemed like an eternity, endlessly walking, he forgot who and what he was; endless days (or was it nights) had stripped him of only one thing: finding a way out of the desert. Keep going, pray that someone was out there to save him.
The desert seemed to go on and all with no end in sight. There were only a bare handful of stars in the sky, barely giving the stranger enough light to see where he was going. The heat was horrific, like the heat one feels during the worst part of a Californian summer. He desperately screamed for someone, anyone to hear him. The stranger would stop, scream in frantic hope that someone would hear him and come to his rescue. Occassionall, when the strain of walking became too much for him, the stranger would just collapse upon the sand covered ground and cry. He would cry, wondering in his head what he could have done in his life to deserve such a cruel fate.
The only item he had one him was a small metallic badge that was originally attached to his belt. It was too dark for him to read what was on his badge, which he removed and placed in his jacket's pocket in order to keep from losing it. If only there was some light! He could read the badge and maybe find out who he was!
So he walked. He walked and walked and walked endless miles before finally he saw a light in the distance. A fire burning ever so dimly, several miles ahead of him. With what little energy he had left in him at the time, he ran as fast as he could towards the fire. Praying that there was someone there who could answer his questions.
But as he ran towards the fire, three figures began to shift in the darkness as his dreams were answered. People!
“Help me! Please help me! I woke up in the desert and need help finding my way home!”
As he got closer, he saw the three figures near the fire and found that two of them were women! One was a red headed young girl with a green jacket and black skirt. Another was an older woman, black hair and dressed stylishly in a flowing, loose fitting white coat. The coat had a hood which covered her head and had fur fringe on it.
But off in the distance there was the third figure, who was male. He was dressed in black, and looked as though he could be Russian.
“So you finally arrived! We were afraid you would never find your way to where we were at!” the man spoke, his voice cheerful yet his eyes, lit by the fire, were cold like a shark's.
“My name is Bester. My friend over there is Romanadvoratelundar. And next to her, is a sarcastic young lady...”
“Daria....” the young lass said as she offered her hand to the stranger.
“I don't remember my name...”
“Common for those who spend as much wandering the wasteland like you did for an extended amount of time. It's a wonder that your beard is still neatly trimmed...” Romanadvoratelundar stated.
“Beard? He clearly has a mustache. One I assume he grew because he couldn't grow a proper goatee” said the woman identified as Daria.
“Really ladies?” the man said as he walked up to the women, standing right next to the one in white.
“He's clean shaven from what I see. But then again...” the man said as he turned to the woman in white, who in Alfred Bester's eyes was a young lass with straight blonde hair, a pink dress coat on and white pants, with a farmer's hat on her head.
“We all see each other in different ways.”
The stranger sat down by the fire, removing the badge from his pocket. With the light of the roaring fire in front of him, he saw that it was a police badge. LAPD.
“I'm a cop. A police officer...”
“Probably a detective, given you are wearing a suit.” Daria replied, as she watched the stranger carefully.
“Do you have a name?” Bester asked as he removed a black glove from his right hand.
“I... it's been so long. I can't seem to remember.”
“It's ok. We are hear to help you. To take you to a place where you will always be remembered. Where you can be safe” Bester said as he put his bare hand upon the stranger's shoulder.
“We should tell him who he is. What he did.” Daria thought to herself as she stared at Bester.
“In time. Detective Gardocki has only just come through the wasteland. In time he will come to deal with his sins. Like I did.” Bester replied telepathically to his young companion.
“Like us, you are one of the forgotten. You story is over but you will live on. Like us. In a place where you will never be forgotten.”
The stranger felt a brief wave of nausea as Bester raised his open hand towards him. Bester figured the least he could do, to speed up the process, was to let the poor guy remember his name.
“Ronnie... My name is Ronnie!” he said, as he felt his brain catch fire, only too briefly as he remembered his name.
Daria watched the floor show with her usual cold detachment. She had been gangpressed into participating in this retrieval, helping another lost character transition to the next stage of existence. This was largely because of her own lengthy walk through “The Wasteland”, where she was found by three figures: a woman named Claire that claimed to be a prosecutor, a British secret agent who Daria had mistakenly identified at “Number 6”, and a teenage girl that was Daria's age but who's hair was a soothing blue color. They aided her in her transition to her new existence, one that Ronnie would now be transitioned into. A new existence where he will live on in the hearts and minds of others.
Daria looked at the fire, which roared with intensity. It would last the four for the time being, as Ronnie regains his basic memory of who and what he was. Once enough of his memory was restored and the others informing him of what he was and where he was going, they would continue into the night. To their new home, where they would live such exciting new adventures. And who knows, maybe like Bester, Ronnie might find redemption or at least penance for his crimes. Anything was possible, Daria thought to herself. Having spent most of her existence as a cartoon character, holding those that she loved at arms' distance behind a wall of sarcasm, she found herself unburden by those restraints when she became a being bound only by the imagination of those who followed her exploits on TV. Absurd, but so is life Daria thought. And if her friendship with Romanadvoratelundar had taught her anything, sometimes the most absurd aspects of human existence are some of the most enjoyable ones.
“Penny for your thought?” Romanadvoratelundar asked Daria as she offered her some jelly beans. Daria took several from the bag Romanadvoratelundar held. They watched carefully as Bester explain what Ronnie really was and how as a fictional character, existing only in the mind of others now that the vehicle in which he appeared in had been canceled and left the airwaves, he was now able to move onto a realm where he would live again. In the minds of the fans who watched his show and cheered him on, no matter what he did good or bad.
The younger Romanadvoratelundar would have hated this, allowing someone like Bester aid in helping characters cross over. But the older, wiser Romanadvoratelundar was willing to give people a second chance so long as they actually changed for the better. Like Bester; he used to be from the future, a literal “thought police” police officer before he changed after crossing over. In time, maybe Detective Gardocki would too. The potential was there, for most of his sins were the sins of willfull blindness of the evil of his closest friends and loved ones. And if someone like Bester or his kind, the Starscreams and the Capricas and the Magnetos can change, so can Detective Gardocki.
“Thinking about the past. How all of this was still kind of surreal. Like a dream...”
“Dreams are like the imagination; they are worlds which the mortal mind can only enter in the most abstract fashion possible. But for us fictional characters, they are whole new worlds which we can explore at our leisure so long as we are remembered by someone.”
Daria just smiled, a sad meloncolly smile towards her friend as she leaned her weary head onto her shoulders. Romanadvoratelundar smiled in return as she put her hand over Daria's shoulders. The fire continued to burn at a moderate pace, as they knew they had all of the time in the world to help their friend, preparing him for eternity in his new existence, in the realm of imagination.
