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mechanical_dream) wrote2009-10-05 12:17 pm
Fate, Chance, Destiny (belated)
Let us say, then, that destiny is what is laid out ahead of you when you are brought into this universe. The purpose that whoever made you had in mind in doing so. That is fair enough, yes?
Then chance. Chance, I think, is what happens to you once you begin to live your life, that screws that planned destiny to hell. Chance is all the random little quirks of the universe that fool even the grandest of designs, and there's nothing anyone can do about them except live with them as best they can.
And finally, fate. Fate, to me, is the result of those two forces, and your own choice. Chance, choice and design. Every being forges their own fate from those three things, and are carried along by it to their end, by one path or another. Fate is an ill-formed thing, ever changing, unfixed until the moment of death itself, dependant on the forces that make it up for its direction and speed. Some of it, we cannot ever hope to affect. Some of it, to a limited degree, we can control.
Does that seem fair to all? As a working theory of fate? *smiles* I have a reason for coming up with it, you see. I rather hope to explain my life by it. Let me explain.
My destiny, then. I was designed with one purpose in mind. To care, uncaring, for the madmen of earth. I was designed to be the unfeeling machine that watched their suffering, cleaned up their messes, fed them the food they would not eat, weathered the blows they dealt me in desperation, and watched them slowly wither until nothing was left behind their blank, pained eyes. That was my purpose, my destiny, what I was for.
But then chance. The universe reached in and gave me a little quirk, a little flaw, that made all of that impossible. Because for whatever reason, whether it was just flying around loose or what, against everything expected and designed, I came into the world with a soul. With feeling. With compassion. I could not simply care uncaring. I could not simply watch. And then. Oh, and then. The biggest chance of all, the biggest quirk the universe could throw at me.
Dowling. My beloved. The other half of my soul. Terrified, screaming, clawing his way under the bed in terror of the light, drowning in the sea of telepathy.
He never struck me, you know. The others did. Almost all of them. The dents are gone by now, of course, the silver scratches of long-lost attacks, but I remember them. But Dowling never lashed out. Too hurt, too afraid, and too loving. Me, who was not even a person, and him in so much pain, but he loved anyway. Turned away from the Gestalt for my sake. Broke his own mind for me. Because I had cared for him, even that much. *clenches metal fists* I could kill those who put him there, even now, kill those who left him only one person to love, only one person to love him. Me, who was not even meant to care.
But that doesn't matter anymore, I suppose. We are not on earth any longer, and those who hurt us have long ceased to matter in our life. Still. There is pain in the memory.
Where was I? Oh yes. Fate, then. The last of our trinity. What fate did I make, did we make, the madman and the robot with a soul? *smiles deeply* Well, I was destined from the start to care for madmen, was I not? And chance threw such a precious madman my way. And then choice, because I had to choose to love him, had to choose to make a life with him. And I did. The best choice I ever made.
Our fate? Is not yet through, it is true. It is still in the making, even now. But I think I can see the path of it, from here. I think I can feel the flow.
And I would follow it happily if it cost me the universe.
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