Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2007-10-06 12:01 am
ptahrrific) wrote2007-10-06 12:01 am
Entry tags:
Fake News: The Thing With Feathers, Chapter 10
Title: The Thing With Feathers, Chapter 10
Fandom: The Daily Show/The Colbert Report
Rating: PG
Words: ~1400
Disclaimer: Two.
For the Report characters: They and their universe are property of Stephen Colbert, the other Report writers, and of course Viacom. Not mine. Sue me not, please.
And for the real people, the poem:
Please, make no mistake:
these people aren't fake,
but what's said here is no more than fiction.
It only was writ
because we like their wit
and wisecracks, and pull-squints, and diction.
We don't mean to quibble,
but this can't be libel;
it's never implied to be real.
No disrespect's meant;
if you disapprove, then,
the back button's right up there. Deal.
Notes: This chapter is shortish, but important. So much so that it gets an epigraph.
Grand go the years in the crescent above them;
Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row.
--Emily Dickinson, "Safe in their alabaster chambers"
For the full table of contents, click here.
The Thing With Feathers
Chapter 10
(everywhere.)
He watched.
He watched, and he waited. He was patient. After all, he had no reason to hurry.
Worlds scooped their arcs in the crescent above him.
In one of these worlds he watched the slow and steady crumbling. The result seemed inevitable, but of course he knew better; these things could always change at the last minute. You couldn't take the end result for granted until the end had come.
He watched, and he waited, and he wondered whether this one would catch on before dissolving completely.
Feathers brushed past each other, and firmaments rowed.
---------------------
---------------------
(here.)
Comparing their memories of the day, Eric and Allison had worked out that the character had been in place at least since he had woken up from the nap he'd taken that evening.
"And I'll do you one better," said Jon, after they had pieced together a reconstruction of the whole afternoon. "The real Stephen would have set an alarm to make sure he woke up in good time. If he didn't get up with the alarm, that means he was already the character by the time it went off. So the change happened within the first half hour."
"While he was asleep?" asked Allison. "Great. So he won't know how it happened."
"It has to reverse itself sooner or later," declared Jon stubbornly. "We just have to keep him out of the way until then."
"On the bright side," Eric added, "we should still have a couple of hours before the withdrawal hits."
He looked hopefully at the other two; Allison didn't look any more cheered by the news than Jon felt. There was a moment of grim silence.
Then Allison said, "Do you guys hear that?"
Jon listened. He could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights, his own breathing, something that might have been a much-muffled car alarm; but nothing out of the ordinary. "I don't--"
Allison held up a hand, cutting him off; she stepped over the piles of bedding, which still lay where they had been dropped, and pressed her ear to the door of Stephen's office. When she crossed back to the opposite side of the hall, she spoke in low tones. "He's crying."
"Oh, no," breathed Eric. "Poor guy."
"There's no chance he's faking it?" asked Jon, trying not to sound hopeful.
The writers looked at him, then at each other. "Don't think so," said Eric.
"He does angle for sympathy on the show sometimes," noted Allison.
"But if this were a pity play, he'd be louder."
"And he's not really a strong person. He's rigid, but he's fragile."
As they went back and forth, Jon walked over to the door and listened. Sure enough, he could hear muffled sobs from inside.
"Besides," added Eric, "he's far from home and surrounded by strangers with no idea why or how. Can you blame him?"
"Of course not," said Allison. "Do you think we could get in there? Is there an extra key around here?"
"There could be. In a closet somewhere. But do you think we should? He's freaked out enough already."
"I don't know. He could use our support, but I don't know if he'd accept it. He's independent like that."
I can't just ignore this, thought Jon. They're right. There's a real person in there, and he's alone and afraid. What would Stephen -- my Stephen, that is -- say if he knew I were trying to brush it off?
"Well, he thinks he's independent," conceded Eric. "Or he pretends he thinks he is. He falls apart under pressure."
"That doesn't mean we should push our help on him. We don't know how stable he is; he almost isn't a realistic character because of how close he gets to the edge..."
I'm the only one here who has interacted with the character before. Eric was playing a part; I just played myself. Obviously the real Stephen was there underneath, but it's the closest any of us have come to what we're dealing with now.
And I'm the only one this Stephen knows. The only one he started out with a measure of trust for. And, like an idiot, I stomped all over that.
"Hang on a second -- is there anything sharp in that office?"
"Oh, God, I have no idea. Do you think he would...?"
So fix it, Stewart.
How? I've never had to deal with someone like this. Not for real, at least.
So pretend it's a bit for the show, and you've just offended the character. How do you respond?
This isn't fair. Stephen's the one with the improv background, not me!
"I don't know, but you're right, he's not stable. And if it gets that bad..."
"...then we'd have to intervene, whether he accepts it or not, I see what you're saying..."
Well, Stephen's not here. I'm on my own. And the character's writers think he's in danger, and they would know, wouldn't they?
So, okay, Stephen-the-character is offended. What does Jon-the-character do?
"Stephen?" he called through the door. "Stephen, listen -- I'm sorry!"
---------------------
---------------------
(there.)
Manhattan at ten-thirty on a Monday night is not a quiet place by any means, but inside the car it might as well have been a graveyard.
Stephen knew about anger and repression and defense systems. He had played enough weak characters to understand them; it was their weaknesses that fascinated him in the first place.
You're bright enough and detached enough to talk about your own defenses, he berated himself. And you're introspective enough to figure out that you're applying that knowledge to the roles you play. So why didn't that translate into sympathy?
Because he wasn't real. You could be flip about anything he said or did, brush it off as "just the character", and that didn't just go for the arrogance and rudeness, did it? It went for the whole package. Even the weakness.
Of course, because for him the character was real, this Jon couldn't brush off any of it. But he saw the weakness, the hurt and the broken parts underneath, and because of that he could forgive any amount of vitriol on the surface.
Or at least, he forgives it when it's directed at him. But he's so passive in general -- would he defend someone else?
Well, he defended his Stephen to me, didn't he? And he was eloquent and firm about it, too. There's life in this Jon yet.
He'll defend the man, but won't do the slightest thing that might hurt him...
Wheels began to turn in Stephen's head: the questions this Jon had asked, the way he had phrased things, the way he had treated Stephen before he realized that it wasn't the Stephen he knew. I was panicking, I made what were from his point of view ridiculous demands, wanting to go home in the middle of the work day, and he just went with it...
"You're playing the role of straight man too, aren't you?" he asked.
Jon looked at him sharply. "I'm not a comedian."
"I don't mean the comedy term."
The answer was a moment in coming. "If you were right, what would you do?"
"'Do'? Nothing. It doesn't make any difference to -- look, I'm not my character. I know there's nothing wrong with being gay."
Jon sighed. "Bi. Not that he would understand the distinction."
"No, I'm sure he wouldn't." He wavered for a moment over whether to ask the next question, then decided to take the leap. "This is none of my business, and please don't answer if you don't want to, but ... are you in love with your Stephen?"
An even longer pause followed. Jon had just taken a breath to reply when there was a knock on the partition between the seats; he reached forward and rolled it down.
"We're at the Daily Show studio, Mr. Stewart," announced the driver.
"You'd better hurry," said Stephen. "You've got makeup and wardrobe to get through, and there'll probably be last-minute changes to tell you about before you go on-air."
"True, true." As he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, Jon directed the driver: "Get Stephen to the Report studio as quickly as possible."
"Understood, Mr. Stewart."
He hopped out of the car, then braced himself with one hand against the roof and leaned back in. "I'll see you at the end of the show. Don't worry about whether you can handle it. You're a perceptive guy. You'll be fine."
Fandom: The Daily Show/The Colbert Report
Rating: PG
Words: ~1400
Disclaimer: Two.
For the Report characters: They and their universe are property of Stephen Colbert, the other Report writers, and of course Viacom. Not mine. Sue me not, please.
And for the real people, the poem:
Please, make no mistake:
these people aren't fake,
but what's said here is no more than fiction.
It only was writ
because we like their wit
and wisecracks, and pull-squints, and diction.
We don't mean to quibble,
but this can't be libel;
it's never implied to be real.
No disrespect's meant;
if you disapprove, then,
the back button's right up there. Deal.
Notes: This chapter is shortish, but important. So much so that it gets an epigraph.
Grand go the years in the crescent above them;
Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row.
--Emily Dickinson, "Safe in their alabaster chambers"
For the full table of contents, click here.
The Thing With Feathers
Chapter 10
(everywhere.)
He watched.
He watched, and he waited. He was patient. After all, he had no reason to hurry.
Worlds scooped their arcs in the crescent above him.
In one of these worlds he watched the slow and steady crumbling. The result seemed inevitable, but of course he knew better; these things could always change at the last minute. You couldn't take the end result for granted until the end had come.
He watched, and he waited, and he wondered whether this one would catch on before dissolving completely.
Feathers brushed past each other, and firmaments rowed.
---------------------
(here.)
Comparing their memories of the day, Eric and Allison had worked out that the character had been in place at least since he had woken up from the nap he'd taken that evening.
"And I'll do you one better," said Jon, after they had pieced together a reconstruction of the whole afternoon. "The real Stephen would have set an alarm to make sure he woke up in good time. If he didn't get up with the alarm, that means he was already the character by the time it went off. So the change happened within the first half hour."
"While he was asleep?" asked Allison. "Great. So he won't know how it happened."
"It has to reverse itself sooner or later," declared Jon stubbornly. "We just have to keep him out of the way until then."
"On the bright side," Eric added, "we should still have a couple of hours before the withdrawal hits."
He looked hopefully at the other two; Allison didn't look any more cheered by the news than Jon felt. There was a moment of grim silence.
Then Allison said, "Do you guys hear that?"
Jon listened. He could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights, his own breathing, something that might have been a much-muffled car alarm; but nothing out of the ordinary. "I don't--"
Allison held up a hand, cutting him off; she stepped over the piles of bedding, which still lay where they had been dropped, and pressed her ear to the door of Stephen's office. When she crossed back to the opposite side of the hall, she spoke in low tones. "He's crying."
"Oh, no," breathed Eric. "Poor guy."
"There's no chance he's faking it?" asked Jon, trying not to sound hopeful.
The writers looked at him, then at each other. "Don't think so," said Eric.
"He does angle for sympathy on the show sometimes," noted Allison.
"But if this were a pity play, he'd be louder."
"And he's not really a strong person. He's rigid, but he's fragile."
As they went back and forth, Jon walked over to the door and listened. Sure enough, he could hear muffled sobs from inside.
"Besides," added Eric, "he's far from home and surrounded by strangers with no idea why or how. Can you blame him?"
"Of course not," said Allison. "Do you think we could get in there? Is there an extra key around here?"
"There could be. In a closet somewhere. But do you think we should? He's freaked out enough already."
"I don't know. He could use our support, but I don't know if he'd accept it. He's independent like that."
I can't just ignore this, thought Jon. They're right. There's a real person in there, and he's alone and afraid. What would Stephen -- my Stephen, that is -- say if he knew I were trying to brush it off?
"Well, he thinks he's independent," conceded Eric. "Or he pretends he thinks he is. He falls apart under pressure."
"That doesn't mean we should push our help on him. We don't know how stable he is; he almost isn't a realistic character because of how close he gets to the edge..."
I'm the only one here who has interacted with the character before. Eric was playing a part; I just played myself. Obviously the real Stephen was there underneath, but it's the closest any of us have come to what we're dealing with now.
And I'm the only one this Stephen knows. The only one he started out with a measure of trust for. And, like an idiot, I stomped all over that.
"Hang on a second -- is there anything sharp in that office?"
"Oh, God, I have no idea. Do you think he would...?"
So fix it, Stewart.
How? I've never had to deal with someone like this. Not for real, at least.
So pretend it's a bit for the show, and you've just offended the character. How do you respond?
This isn't fair. Stephen's the one with the improv background, not me!
"I don't know, but you're right, he's not stable. And if it gets that bad..."
"...then we'd have to intervene, whether he accepts it or not, I see what you're saying..."
Well, Stephen's not here. I'm on my own. And the character's writers think he's in danger, and they would know, wouldn't they?
So, okay, Stephen-the-character is offended. What does Jon-the-character do?
"Stephen?" he called through the door. "Stephen, listen -- I'm sorry!"
---------------------
(there.)
Manhattan at ten-thirty on a Monday night is not a quiet place by any means, but inside the car it might as well have been a graveyard.
Stephen knew about anger and repression and defense systems. He had played enough weak characters to understand them; it was their weaknesses that fascinated him in the first place.
You're bright enough and detached enough to talk about your own defenses, he berated himself. And you're introspective enough to figure out that you're applying that knowledge to the roles you play. So why didn't that translate into sympathy?
Because he wasn't real. You could be flip about anything he said or did, brush it off as "just the character", and that didn't just go for the arrogance and rudeness, did it? It went for the whole package. Even the weakness.
Of course, because for him the character was real, this Jon couldn't brush off any of it. But he saw the weakness, the hurt and the broken parts underneath, and because of that he could forgive any amount of vitriol on the surface.
Or at least, he forgives it when it's directed at him. But he's so passive in general -- would he defend someone else?
Well, he defended his Stephen to me, didn't he? And he was eloquent and firm about it, too. There's life in this Jon yet.
He'll defend the man, but won't do the slightest thing that might hurt him...
Wheels began to turn in Stephen's head: the questions this Jon had asked, the way he had phrased things, the way he had treated Stephen before he realized that it wasn't the Stephen he knew. I was panicking, I made what were from his point of view ridiculous demands, wanting to go home in the middle of the work day, and he just went with it...
"You're playing the role of straight man too, aren't you?" he asked.
Jon looked at him sharply. "I'm not a comedian."
"I don't mean the comedy term."
The answer was a moment in coming. "If you were right, what would you do?"
"'Do'? Nothing. It doesn't make any difference to -- look, I'm not my character. I know there's nothing wrong with being gay."
Jon sighed. "Bi. Not that he would understand the distinction."
"No, I'm sure he wouldn't." He wavered for a moment over whether to ask the next question, then decided to take the leap. "This is none of my business, and please don't answer if you don't want to, but ... are you in love with your Stephen?"
An even longer pause followed. Jon had just taken a breath to reply when there was a knock on the partition between the seats; he reached forward and rolled it down.
"We're at the Daily Show studio, Mr. Stewart," announced the driver.
"You'd better hurry," said Stephen. "You've got makeup and wardrobe to get through, and there'll probably be last-minute changes to tell you about before you go on-air."
"True, true." As he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, Jon directed the driver: "Get Stephen to the Report studio as quickly as possible."
"Understood, Mr. Stewart."
He hopped out of the car, then braced himself with one hand against the roof and leaned back in. "I'll see you at the end of the show. Don't worry about whether you can handle it. You're a perceptive guy. You'll be fine."
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Thank you!
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I'm going to repeat myself : you transcribe all their emotions perfectly. I seriously think you're the only writer that made me actually ache for the characters. And it's so good you turn us all into, well, masochists ♥
*has to rush out*
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One of the perks of writing fanfiction is that readers have built-in attachment to the characters before they start. So it's relatively easy to get their sympathies. But if you haven't actually felt that way with other fic, uh, that's really flattering =3
Thank you!
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I really have to admire your use of wordplay/metaphor/deft double-meanings/all sorts of awesome here:
"You're playing the role of straight man too, aren't you?" he asked.
Jon looked at him sharply. "I'm not a comedian."
"I don't mean the comedy term."
Oof.
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I like puns, and I like gay jokes, so that passage has a special place in my heart.
Thank you ♥
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The beginning? Mysterious and haunting.
The middle? I felt so much sympathy for "Stephen" just from He's crying. Loved Jon's arguing with himself as to what to do - and what he settled on.
The end? Loved Stephen's monologuing as well. And how Jon sort-of-answered his question when he left with the comment You're a perceptive guy. And how, as mentioned above, despite what he has to be going through, he still takes time to reassure Stephen.
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The middle: It was a delicate job handling "Stephen" here, and I'm so glad the subtlety is effective. And, yeah, Jon is finally getting his act together =)
The end: Picked up on that, did you? Nicely done.
Thank you! ♥
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Also, what "ridiculous demands" are you/Stephen referring to?
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Stephen demanded to go home in the middle of the work day, before the shows had been broadcast. And "Jon" not only helped him go, but went with him, risking that they would both miss their shows before he even knew if it would help.
I can clarify both of these things in the text; I'll go do that.
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I love how you're giving depth to all the characters, instead of just writing the 'others' as they intially would seem- two dimensional.
I'm really really really looking forward to the next bit :) Thanks for writing!
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Glad you like Jon's turnaround (took him long enough, eh?), and the characterization in general. "Stephen" has always seemed 3-D to me, but I usually treated "Jon" as a 2-D layer over the 3-D-ness of Jon, so separating them out and then giving them both their own depths was a challenge. (And ridiculously fun.)
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I LOVE THIS *THIS* MUCH.
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And not a word more.
Thank you ♥
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Kudos to you and your wonderful fabulous story. It is the most heart-warming, insightful, eloquent, dead-on and thought-provoking piece of fanfic I've ever read.
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I hope you comment more, because there are many other authors whose stories deserve feedback -- and I'm incredibly flattered that this was the one that broke your silence =D
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I'll be better with the commenting in the future, promise.
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"You're playing the role of straight man too, aren't you?" he asked.
Jon looked at him sharply. "I'm not a comedian."
"I don't mean the comedy term."
Made me smile big time. Stephen being so straightforward (no pun intended) is just adorable. And also the wordplay is fantastic.
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In the same way that "the unexpected" was a major recurring theme in Expecting, "hope" is a major recurring theme in The Thing With Feathers. Keep an eye out for references, in chapters already posted as well as those to come. (Or, to put it another way, every time the word "hope" is used, take a shot.)
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The only reason I'm out of bed before noon is to read this chapter, honestly.
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Thank you!
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Thank you =)
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Anyway, this is freaking KICKASS. And I'm kiiiiiiiinda in love with you now. Just a bit. A big, giant bit. I love seeing everyone's reactions to every little thing and how Stephen and "Stephen" are actually cut from the same cloth yet not at ALL and I'm in love with both Jons. I love the Eric/Bobby and Allison dynamic too. And the withdrawals! Ah, you genius gal you.
Ok, I sincerely apologize for my insane lameness. *bows to your greatness* You iz grrrrrreat!
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If you had put off this story for another week or two, it would have been over and that would have been made of epic fail. But you got to it in time and are noticing the weirdly striking Stephen-"Stephen" similarities (that was a fun angle to plumb) and love the characters in general so all is well.
Keep reading =D And thank you!
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Oooh, what would Stephen say if he knew Jon was trying to brush "Stephen" off? Would he act the same as Jon? Or would suddenly seeing his counterpart in that state shock him into the compassion that's come more gradually in the other world? (I kind of want to see Stephen and "Stephen" come face to face now.)
I just love Jon putting himself into Stephen's role as improviser (I have a serious kink on for this kind of role reversal, and I wish there was more of it in every fandom)! And the structure there, Allison and Eric conversing as a background to Jon thinking really, really hard, and cutting off when Jon finally opens his mouth - perfect. And oh, poor "Stephen". I want to see how this meeting will go!
I'm not sure I can say much about Stephen's introspection, other than yes, I see! (And I'm *REALLY* looking forward to all the interviews this week, omg.)
Aww, "Jon." I love that he reassured Stephen before he went into the studio, even though he could probably use the comfort even more at that point. ♥!
.. you know, I noticed rereading this that you use "brush it off" rather a lot, and then I realized - feathers. You are devious! :D
(One more chapter to catch up - I don't think I'll get my comment for it written before TDS comes on! D: )
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You're picking up on it already. And I love the way you're reacting to -- well, the whole thing, really.
"Jon" is a saint. I don't think there can be any doubt of that. I don't care that he's Jewish; they're going to have to canonize him eventually.
...let's just pretend that is a result of my incredible cleverness, rather than a phrase I use too often in writing, eh? (Although other feather references abound.)
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"Jon" is more fragile than Jon, and his inner core of strength is harder to see. And of course Stephen still feels guilty for the way "Stephen" pushes him around, so he's going to handle "Jon" with care. Maybe that's what you're picking up on.
It's well meant, at least.
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<3
I love how much power Allison and Eric have right now.
<3