![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
BtVS: Critique of Judgment II
Title: Critique of Judgment II
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Lydia Chalmers, Quentin Travers
Timeline/Spoilers: Set during “Checkpoint.” Spoilers for that episode.
Word Count: 1500ish
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Direct sequel (although able to be read on its own) to my Critique of Judgment I and part of The Watcher’s Diaries of Lydia Chalmers, my serious of fic(lets) for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fanfic100. This one is for prompt #030, “Death.” Here we have not only references to the deaths of John and Maggie Walsh, but more importantly (and less obviously) Quentin Travers preparing for his own death. John Walsh is from my fic A History of Violence. The title is from Immanuel Kant.
Critique of Judgment II
"How is that report coming, Lydia?"
Lydia Chalmer looked up from her laptop at Quentin Travers, who had just entered her hotel room. "Almost finished," she responded. "Just give me another 5 minutes."
"Can you give me a preview?" asked Travers. "The main ideas."
"The Slayer's methods are highly unorthodox, but she is ultimately capable. Under proper guidance, her innovativeness could be made an invaluable asset. Everything we already knew."
"And you are wondering why we had to cross an ocean and a continent to find out nothing new."
"With all due respect, sir, yes, I am."
Quentin nodded and sat down on a seat across from her. "Lydia, do you know Roger Wyndam-Pryce?"
Lydia did not allow herself to be taken aback by the apparent non sequitor. Travers would get to the point in his own time, she knew. "I've met him three or four times," she acknowledged. "As I understand it, he's rather highly placed in the Council. Like yourself."
"Like myself," Travers echoed. "Yes, indeed. And what are your impressions of Wyndam-Pryce? Please, speak freely. I want to hear what you really think."
Lydia considered. "He is…ambitious. Ruthless, even."
Travers nodded. "I would go so far as to say power-hungry. It takes something of the nature of a Machiavel to rise to such rarefied heights, I am afraid. Lord Acton was right, unfortunately. But you'll learn such lessons before too long; yes, Lydia, I see in you the potential to go far in the Council, although I rather suspect you will not be proud of yourself by the end of it. But Roger. He is a man in love with power, and he sees the Council as a means to that power. After all, our influence spans the entire globe, does it not? And we have less subtle resources. It was he who ordered the strike on the rogue Slayer Faith two years ago. What you cannot control, you must destroy.
"But he ignores one thing: that in the end, we are powerless. Yes, Lydia: for all our playing and scheming we cannot change the simple fact that we are not the Slayer. At the end of the day, the fate of the world rests in her hands, not ours."
Lydia looked at her superior in shock. "But what about 'the Slayer is the instrument'?"
Travers smiled—a somber, almost sad smile. "That," he answered, "is the true test we have come over to administer. There is a lesson the Slayer must learn if she is too succeed, and Rupert Giles with all his damnable interference seems to be dead-set against letting her learn it."
Lydia did not speak to fill the silence which followed. She knew that Travers would explain himself when it pleased him to do so, in the manner that he chose. After a moment, he asked another a question.
"Do you know the purpose of the Cruciamentum, Lydia?"
"A test," she answered, "of cunning, imagination, and confidence. To evaluate the Slayer's abilities and those of her Watcher. It is a rite of passage, dozens of centuries old." And the reason why Rupert Giles was fired from the Council, why current arrangements with the Slayer are so strained.
Travers nodded. "Yes, it is all of those things. It is a test, just as this review is a test. But both tests are also lessons, that we are not her parents, not her friends, and not even necessarily her allies. She cannot always count on turning to us for help. Someday we will not be here, Lydia, and the Slayer will have to soldier on by herself. It is our job to prepare her for that day. Rupert seems unwilling to let her learn that lesson, insisting on loving her with a father's love. He doesn't seem to realize that the best thing he could do for his Slayer now is to get himself a one-way ticket back to England and return home. But I suppose we cannot blame Miss Summers for her Watcher's mistakes.”
"Then you intend to give her the information she has asked for?"
Travers laughed. Like his smile, his laugh had a quality to it that was both sad and somber. "What else can we do?" he asked. "As I said, we are powerless. In our hands this information is just another file in our already overfull vaults, useless to the world. In her hands, this information has the potential to save the world. But if she is going to do any good with it, she has to discover that she is the one with the power. That is the lesson this review will teach her: that in the end, there is only one Chosen One." He paused. "Well, two in this instance, but that's a special circumstance."
Travers let the room return to silence, as Lydia processed what he said. Such responsibility to be placed on a single girl without even her consent: the fate of the world.
"What do you think, Lydia?"
"About what, sir?"
"You've devoted your life to studying a vampire who was feared all through Europe. You are not unversed in the psychology—and the politics—of power."
Lydia nodded. "I met him, today, you know."
"I know." He said no more, letting her continue.
"As you said, I have studied this creature my entire life. And now, I see him, and he is so far from what I expected. Although in a way, that is what I expected. After all, my thesis emphasizes how capable he was at adapting to new situations. With any other vampire, I would have said that what I saw today was impossible. With William the Bloody, it is merely implausible."
"Perhaps you had better fill me in on what you saw, Lydia."
Lydia paused, trying to decide how she could best explain what she had seen. "He seemed docile. A man who once cut a swath through Europe is now acting as sidekick to the Slayer. He helps her kill demons, stop apocalypses. From his activities the last six months, one would never even guess he was an evil soulless creature."
Travers nodded. "Have you ever heard of Maggie Walsh?"
Lydia thought. "Wasn't she the daughter of John Walsh, the man who wrote the textbook on demon anatomy? Last I heard, she was teaching psychology in the States."
Travers nodded. "The professor has joined her late father, I'm afraid. She was acting as the head of the Sunnydale headquaurters of the States' Demon Initiative. Succeeded in implanting over two dozen Sunnydale vampires with a neuro-microchip which would emit an electrical shock resulting in extreme pain if the vampire attempted to harm a living creature. According to the intelligence the Council has procured, William the Bloody was number 17 in their project."
Lydia looked at Travers in shock. "Why wasn't I told of this?"
"The Americans do not take well to our distributing our knowledge of their classified activities at will. A certain level of discretion is required."
"But this information has to be integrated with the research we already have. The models need to be revised, we need to—" She trailed off. "And I know more about William the Bloody then anyone else in the Council."
"Which is why I am telling you this now, Lydia. Believe me, we have not forgotten you. It seemed to me that while it was needed to make this visit to Sunnydale, it would be worthwhile to perform some actual research—discretely—while we were here. Do you have a hypothesis yet?"
"No piece of electronics could turn William the Bloody into something he didn't want to be. It could act as the catalyst, certainly. But there's something more at work here. Something—" she trailed off.
"Yes?" Travers prompted.
"I don't know," she answered. "I'm going to have to go back to my research, see how this new information fits together. A vampire deprived of the ability of violence, it would have no reason left to live. Chances were, it would go insane."
"Like—"
Lydia shook her head. "No, not like Drusilla, not necessarily. Drusilla's symptoms are of a severe schizophrenia, possibly dating back to severe stress she may have suffered as a human prior to her turning. But all vampires are insane by human standards, the equivalent of a severe antisocial disorder, psycopathy, even. For a vampire to leave the vampiric norm and go insane by its own standards, we have no idea what that would look like. And this one has always been prone to obsessions, typically fixating all of his attention on just a few objects.
"We have no idea what he is capable of, right now. We need more research."
Go to “Critique of Judgment I.”
Go to The Watcher’s Diaries of Lydia Chalmers masterlist.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Lydia Chalmers, Quentin Travers
Timeline/Spoilers: Set during “Checkpoint.” Spoilers for that episode.
Word Count: 1500ish
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Direct sequel (although able to be read on its own) to my Critique of Judgment I and part of The Watcher’s Diaries of Lydia Chalmers, my serious of fic(lets) for
fanfic100. This one is for prompt #030, “Death.” Here we have not only references to the deaths of John and Maggie Walsh, but more importantly (and less obviously) Quentin Travers preparing for his own death. John Walsh is from my fic A History of Violence. The title is from Immanuel Kant.Critique of Judgment II
"How is that report coming, Lydia?"
Lydia Chalmer looked up from her laptop at Quentin Travers, who had just entered her hotel room. "Almost finished," she responded. "Just give me another 5 minutes."
"Can you give me a preview?" asked Travers. "The main ideas."
"The Slayer's methods are highly unorthodox, but she is ultimately capable. Under proper guidance, her innovativeness could be made an invaluable asset. Everything we already knew."
"And you are wondering why we had to cross an ocean and a continent to find out nothing new."
"With all due respect, sir, yes, I am."
Quentin nodded and sat down on a seat across from her. "Lydia, do you know Roger Wyndam-Pryce?"
Lydia did not allow herself to be taken aback by the apparent non sequitor. Travers would get to the point in his own time, she knew. "I've met him three or four times," she acknowledged. "As I understand it, he's rather highly placed in the Council. Like yourself."
"Like myself," Travers echoed. "Yes, indeed. And what are your impressions of Wyndam-Pryce? Please, speak freely. I want to hear what you really think."
Lydia considered. "He is…ambitious. Ruthless, even."
Travers nodded. "I would go so far as to say power-hungry. It takes something of the nature of a Machiavel to rise to such rarefied heights, I am afraid. Lord Acton was right, unfortunately. But you'll learn such lessons before too long; yes, Lydia, I see in you the potential to go far in the Council, although I rather suspect you will not be proud of yourself by the end of it. But Roger. He is a man in love with power, and he sees the Council as a means to that power. After all, our influence spans the entire globe, does it not? And we have less subtle resources. It was he who ordered the strike on the rogue Slayer Faith two years ago. What you cannot control, you must destroy.
"But he ignores one thing: that in the end, we are powerless. Yes, Lydia: for all our playing and scheming we cannot change the simple fact that we are not the Slayer. At the end of the day, the fate of the world rests in her hands, not ours."
Lydia looked at her superior in shock. "But what about 'the Slayer is the instrument'?"
Travers smiled—a somber, almost sad smile. "That," he answered, "is the true test we have come over to administer. There is a lesson the Slayer must learn if she is too succeed, and Rupert Giles with all his damnable interference seems to be dead-set against letting her learn it."
Lydia did not speak to fill the silence which followed. She knew that Travers would explain himself when it pleased him to do so, in the manner that he chose. After a moment, he asked another a question.
"Do you know the purpose of the Cruciamentum, Lydia?"
"A test," she answered, "of cunning, imagination, and confidence. To evaluate the Slayer's abilities and those of her Watcher. It is a rite of passage, dozens of centuries old." And the reason why Rupert Giles was fired from the Council, why current arrangements with the Slayer are so strained.
Travers nodded. "Yes, it is all of those things. It is a test, just as this review is a test. But both tests are also lessons, that we are not her parents, not her friends, and not even necessarily her allies. She cannot always count on turning to us for help. Someday we will not be here, Lydia, and the Slayer will have to soldier on by herself. It is our job to prepare her for that day. Rupert seems unwilling to let her learn that lesson, insisting on loving her with a father's love. He doesn't seem to realize that the best thing he could do for his Slayer now is to get himself a one-way ticket back to England and return home. But I suppose we cannot blame Miss Summers for her Watcher's mistakes.”
"Then you intend to give her the information she has asked for?"
Travers laughed. Like his smile, his laugh had a quality to it that was both sad and somber. "What else can we do?" he asked. "As I said, we are powerless. In our hands this information is just another file in our already overfull vaults, useless to the world. In her hands, this information has the potential to save the world. But if she is going to do any good with it, she has to discover that she is the one with the power. That is the lesson this review will teach her: that in the end, there is only one Chosen One." He paused. "Well, two in this instance, but that's a special circumstance."
Travers let the room return to silence, as Lydia processed what he said. Such responsibility to be placed on a single girl without even her consent: the fate of the world.
"What do you think, Lydia?"
"About what, sir?"
"You've devoted your life to studying a vampire who was feared all through Europe. You are not unversed in the psychology—and the politics—of power."
Lydia nodded. "I met him, today, you know."
"I know." He said no more, letting her continue.
"As you said, I have studied this creature my entire life. And now, I see him, and he is so far from what I expected. Although in a way, that is what I expected. After all, my thesis emphasizes how capable he was at adapting to new situations. With any other vampire, I would have said that what I saw today was impossible. With William the Bloody, it is merely implausible."
"Perhaps you had better fill me in on what you saw, Lydia."
Lydia paused, trying to decide how she could best explain what she had seen. "He seemed docile. A man who once cut a swath through Europe is now acting as sidekick to the Slayer. He helps her kill demons, stop apocalypses. From his activities the last six months, one would never even guess he was an evil soulless creature."
Travers nodded. "Have you ever heard of Maggie Walsh?"
Lydia thought. "Wasn't she the daughter of John Walsh, the man who wrote the textbook on demon anatomy? Last I heard, she was teaching psychology in the States."
Travers nodded. "The professor has joined her late father, I'm afraid. She was acting as the head of the Sunnydale headquaurters of the States' Demon Initiative. Succeeded in implanting over two dozen Sunnydale vampires with a neuro-microchip which would emit an electrical shock resulting in extreme pain if the vampire attempted to harm a living creature. According to the intelligence the Council has procured, William the Bloody was number 17 in their project."
Lydia looked at Travers in shock. "Why wasn't I told of this?"
"The Americans do not take well to our distributing our knowledge of their classified activities at will. A certain level of discretion is required."
"But this information has to be integrated with the research we already have. The models need to be revised, we need to—" She trailed off. "And I know more about William the Bloody then anyone else in the Council."
"Which is why I am telling you this now, Lydia. Believe me, we have not forgotten you. It seemed to me that while it was needed to make this visit to Sunnydale, it would be worthwhile to perform some actual research—discretely—while we were here. Do you have a hypothesis yet?"
"No piece of electronics could turn William the Bloody into something he didn't want to be. It could act as the catalyst, certainly. But there's something more at work here. Something—" she trailed off.
"Yes?" Travers prompted.
"I don't know," she answered. "I'm going to have to go back to my research, see how this new information fits together. A vampire deprived of the ability of violence, it would have no reason left to live. Chances were, it would go insane."
"Like—"
Lydia shook her head. "No, not like Drusilla, not necessarily. Drusilla's symptoms are of a severe schizophrenia, possibly dating back to severe stress she may have suffered as a human prior to her turning. But all vampires are insane by human standards, the equivalent of a severe antisocial disorder, psycopathy, even. For a vampire to leave the vampiric norm and go insane by its own standards, we have no idea what that would look like. And this one has always been prone to obsessions, typically fixating all of his attention on just a few objects.
"We have no idea what he is capable of, right now. We need more research."
Go to “Critique of Judgment I.”
Go to The Watcher’s Diaries of Lydia Chalmers masterlist.
no subject
no subject
PdmmJjqODLbPKmcMsE
(Anonymous) 2012-12-23 04:55 pm (UTC)(link)PAObfDyuGlVNc
(Anonymous) 2012-12-23 06:03 pm (UTC)(link)