For those that have been reading my fiction, you may have realised that I
have combined Disney's Quasi with Victor Hugo's Quasimodo. It may not be
apparent, but everything I write is based on events from the novel, or
single sentences from it, and blended into a more Disney-like situation.
I'm actually having quite the fun putting this fic here, since on my
website it rarely gets viewed.
I don't claim to be a great writer, but try very hard to make something worth reading that is original. Heh, heh... no Mary-Sues here.
Fate of a bellringer : intro
It is said that anything that is loved will assume a spirit nomatter its form. A wagon, a beloved mandolin, or even an iron kettle may harbour a spirit, good or bad. They surround us, old and ancient, wandering through lonely streets and homes looking for an earthly body. So fragile, yet so powerful; the naked, weightless nonentity that is spirit survives in every corner, every shadow. Most of us live our entire lives unaware of their passage, never thinking that the cold chill running up our spine could be the unseen hand trying to break into our soul, or set it free. So many dismiss the feeling they are being watched as just that, a feeling, rather than recognize what it really is. They are being watched.
There is the occasional individual aware of the lost soul, the disembodied wisp of what was once flesh. For them, the darkness is alive with rippling movements, faintly visible tendrils that undulate with each breath. Those who know are aware of the spirit that meanders through the crowds, looking for one with empty eyes, an empty shell ready for the taking. Good, evil and indifferent, they waft with the breeze searching, for what they are searching remains unknown to living man. Some choose to surround themselves with spirits, a protective shield; these are both the devils and the angels among us.
There are others still who live ignorant of their existence until a single event brings them into the light and they come to notice the spirits around them, the spirits that protect them. Often innocent souls, they are unaware that the invisible hands that lead them from danger, console them and help them when they are in need, are not of this earth. Dual forms, one living soul; a soul to be both feared and loved, a soul worth protecting. This is where the magic lies.
This can be said to be true for the gargoyles of Notre Dame. As it happens, three kind spirits happened to notice a young child in the belltower and take pity on him. They had been there when a tall rider clothed in black, on a black horse, murdered a fair young gypsy on the very steps of sanctuary and watched as her innocent child became they prey of the killer through imprisonment. They had watched for fourteen years with stone eyes, listened with stone ears and gripped the parapet with their stone claws, awaiting the Day of Judgment.
Through the passing years, they watched the young man grow up, yet remained in one place. They talked amongst themselves; the boy, now named Quasimodo, occasionally talked to them. Quasimodo already felt for the gargoyles, they were monsters just like himself. Yet until the events which follow, Quasimodo remained unaware of their true presence; unaware that stone can indeed talk.
I don't claim to be a great writer, but try very hard to make something worth reading that is original. Heh, heh... no Mary-Sues here.
Fate of a bellringer : intro
It is said that anything that is loved will assume a spirit nomatter its form. A wagon, a beloved mandolin, or even an iron kettle may harbour a spirit, good or bad. They surround us, old and ancient, wandering through lonely streets and homes looking for an earthly body. So fragile, yet so powerful; the naked, weightless nonentity that is spirit survives in every corner, every shadow. Most of us live our entire lives unaware of their passage, never thinking that the cold chill running up our spine could be the unseen hand trying to break into our soul, or set it free. So many dismiss the feeling they are being watched as just that, a feeling, rather than recognize what it really is. They are being watched.
There is the occasional individual aware of the lost soul, the disembodied wisp of what was once flesh. For them, the darkness is alive with rippling movements, faintly visible tendrils that undulate with each breath. Those who know are aware of the spirit that meanders through the crowds, looking for one with empty eyes, an empty shell ready for the taking. Good, evil and indifferent, they waft with the breeze searching, for what they are searching remains unknown to living man. Some choose to surround themselves with spirits, a protective shield; these are both the devils and the angels among us.
There are others still who live ignorant of their existence until a single event brings them into the light and they come to notice the spirits around them, the spirits that protect them. Often innocent souls, they are unaware that the invisible hands that lead them from danger, console them and help them when they are in need, are not of this earth. Dual forms, one living soul; a soul to be both feared and loved, a soul worth protecting. This is where the magic lies.
This can be said to be true for the gargoyles of Notre Dame. As it happens, three kind spirits happened to notice a young child in the belltower and take pity on him. They had been there when a tall rider clothed in black, on a black horse, murdered a fair young gypsy on the very steps of sanctuary and watched as her innocent child became they prey of the killer through imprisonment. They had watched for fourteen years with stone eyes, listened with stone ears and gripped the parapet with their stone claws, awaiting the Day of Judgment.
Through the passing years, they watched the young man grow up, yet remained in one place. They talked amongst themselves; the boy, now named Quasimodo, occasionally talked to them. Quasimodo already felt for the gargoyles, they were monsters just like himself. Yet until the events which follow, Quasimodo remained unaware of their true presence; unaware that stone can indeed talk.