Prompt#111 - Antikythera - Fish Gazing -
rhymerslog - Mirrormas
Sep. 1st, 2008 01:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Title: Fish Gazing
Fandom: Mirrormask
Prompt: Antikythera
Warnings: None
Rating: Is All Good
Summary: Valentine shows Helena his newest aquisition.
(Mirrormask owned by Henson, Gaiman & McKean. For more information on the Antikythera Mechanism, visit here, and to see the one Valentine has, visit here)
Helena padded up the tower stairs quietly in her slippered feet. She traced her her fingertips along the wall, and smiled absently as the wallpaper rippled in delight at her touch. Far above she could hear a muffled bang followed by several yells and a clunk. Valentine was up to something, and for the possible good of the whole City, Helena needed to find out what. Several blasts and unmentionable words hollared later, she reached the top step. With a last tickle of Tower's wallpaper, she headed through the heavy archway into the topmost room of Valentine's abode.
He was standing at the opposite end of the circular room, bent almost double over a workbench. Helena couldn't see what he was doing, and she was sure with all the noise he had been making, there was no way Valentine knew she was there. She tiptoed across the room and leant in close to his ear.
"What are you doing Valentine?" she whispered at a high whine. He jumped and spun in shock, bumping the table and sending a shower of screws and bolts to the floor. Helena laughed openly at his expression, which was made more comical by his addition of a pair of brass goggles over his mask.
"What did you do that for?" he cried, horrified. "Sneaking up on a man in his tower! I ought to report you, you know!" He held one hand over his heart, the other was clutching a heavy looking wrench. Helena shrugged and waggled a finger at his goggles.
"What's with these?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer she turned her attention to the bench in front of Valentine. Amid the debris of twisted metal, loose screws and apricot pips, Helena could see a beautiful but strange instrument. It's casing was slightly damaged, and she had a sneaking suspicion the dent would match the side of a wrench perfectly.
"It's my Antikythera Mechanism," said Valentine, sniffing slightly. He was still upset that Helena had frightened him, she could tell, but nothing ever upset Valentine for long. Helena reached out a hand to touch one of the glowing handles, but was wrapped over the knuckles with the wrench. "Don't touch it! It's a very delicate instrument!" Helena smirked, but pulled her hand back all the same.
"So, what does it do?" She asked, and Valentine scratched his head.
"Its, well..." He had, Helena was certain, no idea what it actually did. "It's for knowing when things are going to happen. Before they do." Valentine sounded less than convinced.
"It tells the future?" asked Helena, unable to keep the skepticism out of her voice.
"Yes! No! Not exactly. More like tells you what's going to happen, because you already know it will."
This really confused Helena.
"Look, I'll just show you. Philestine." Helena ignored the jibe, pretty sure that Valentine didn't know what that meant either. "You just turn this here, and it will line up here..." he turned one handle on one side, and Helena watched the cogs turning and the smaller handles slowly moving around. It stopped on a picture of fish, and she raised her eyebrow at him.
"Fish? There are fish in my future?" she asked incredulously.
Valentine clapped his hands and waved her over to the window, where a large brass and wooden telescope was aimed out over the city. He peered through the scope, twisting knobs until he exclaimed "Aha!" and stood up, allowing Helena a look.
It was pointed at a non-specific part of the horizon. Helena started to say "I can't see anything," when something flickered across her vision. She peered closer, cupping her hands around her eye to keep out the light. A second flicker, then a third, and soon all she could see was a ripple of silver. She laughed in delight as she watched the thousands of fish flying up into the air, only to flip around and fall back down to earth again, like a strange waterless blowhole. As the last fish fell she straightened.
"That's amazing Valentine!" she confessed. He grinned at her.
"It tells the future," he replied, then returned to his workbench. Helena gazed out over the city, half listening as her friend continued his rather violent method of tinkering.
Fandom: Mirrormask
Prompt: Antikythera
Warnings: None
Rating: Is All Good
Summary: Valentine shows Helena his newest aquisition.
(Mirrormask owned by Henson, Gaiman & McKean. For more information on the Antikythera Mechanism, visit here, and to see the one Valentine has, visit here)
Helena padded up the tower stairs quietly in her slippered feet. She traced her her fingertips along the wall, and smiled absently as the wallpaper rippled in delight at her touch. Far above she could hear a muffled bang followed by several yells and a clunk. Valentine was up to something, and for the possible good of the whole City, Helena needed to find out what. Several blasts and unmentionable words hollared later, she reached the top step. With a last tickle of Tower's wallpaper, she headed through the heavy archway into the topmost room of Valentine's abode.
He was standing at the opposite end of the circular room, bent almost double over a workbench. Helena couldn't see what he was doing, and she was sure with all the noise he had been making, there was no way Valentine knew she was there. She tiptoed across the room and leant in close to his ear.
"What are you doing Valentine?" she whispered at a high whine. He jumped and spun in shock, bumping the table and sending a shower of screws and bolts to the floor. Helena laughed openly at his expression, which was made more comical by his addition of a pair of brass goggles over his mask.
"What did you do that for?" he cried, horrified. "Sneaking up on a man in his tower! I ought to report you, you know!" He held one hand over his heart, the other was clutching a heavy looking wrench. Helena shrugged and waggled a finger at his goggles.
"What's with these?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer she turned her attention to the bench in front of Valentine. Amid the debris of twisted metal, loose screws and apricot pips, Helena could see a beautiful but strange instrument. It's casing was slightly damaged, and she had a sneaking suspicion the dent would match the side of a wrench perfectly.
"It's my Antikythera Mechanism," said Valentine, sniffing slightly. He was still upset that Helena had frightened him, she could tell, but nothing ever upset Valentine for long. Helena reached out a hand to touch one of the glowing handles, but was wrapped over the knuckles with the wrench. "Don't touch it! It's a very delicate instrument!" Helena smirked, but pulled her hand back all the same.
"So, what does it do?" She asked, and Valentine scratched his head.
"Its, well..." He had, Helena was certain, no idea what it actually did. "It's for knowing when things are going to happen. Before they do." Valentine sounded less than convinced.
"It tells the future?" asked Helena, unable to keep the skepticism out of her voice.
"Yes! No! Not exactly. More like tells you what's going to happen, because you already know it will."
This really confused Helena.
"Look, I'll just show you. Philestine." Helena ignored the jibe, pretty sure that Valentine didn't know what that meant either. "You just turn this here, and it will line up here..." he turned one handle on one side, and Helena watched the cogs turning and the smaller handles slowly moving around. It stopped on a picture of fish, and she raised her eyebrow at him.
"Fish? There are fish in my future?" she asked incredulously.
Valentine clapped his hands and waved her over to the window, where a large brass and wooden telescope was aimed out over the city. He peered through the scope, twisting knobs until he exclaimed "Aha!" and stood up, allowing Helena a look.
It was pointed at a non-specific part of the horizon. Helena started to say "I can't see anything," when something flickered across her vision. She peered closer, cupping her hands around her eye to keep out the light. A second flicker, then a third, and soon all she could see was a ripple of silver. She laughed in delight as she watched the thousands of fish flying up into the air, only to flip around and fall back down to earth again, like a strange waterless blowhole. As the last fish fell she straightened.
"That's amazing Valentine!" she confessed. He grinned at her.
"It tells the future," he replied, then returned to his workbench. Helena gazed out over the city, half listening as her friend continued his rather violent method of tinkering.