A Force of Nature - John Wick Fanfiction
Jul. 22nd, 2019 08:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mythplaced_logicSummary:
John Wick is a man at war with the world and himself.
"His voice is the cries of the victorious and the dying mingling on a battlefield soaked in blood."
Notes:
This was inspired by a line from The Mark of the Beast by asuralucier- "It means that I’m someone who is ready for war.” I couldn't stop thinking about John as the embodiment of the human concept of War, it describes his existence so well. No Infringement is meant, both to the canon story or asuralucier's work, which is amazing and you should check it out.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Chapter 1: In the Beginning
He had been born for it, as much as a thing like him can be born. He came into being as a primal force of the universe; his physical shape was ever-changing, adapting to suit his calling. As the herald of violence, the conductor in the theater of War, he was often male, tall; a strong body paired with instincts that leaned towards the swift and brutal. It was not always so. In life, just as war came in many guises, so too did War. Sometimes he was female, a striking face to throw the thoughts of men into passion, a spark that became an inferno of pained cries and mutilated bodies in the fight for domination. Other times he came as a wizened man, a prophet whose words brought enlightenment. Those who have heard what they believe to be a higher power are often driven to enforce their interpretation on others, though the cost be paid in the blood of their heretical enemies.
In the end, his mortal guise was merely a function of his calling. He was War, the crucible that forged men into monsters and made monsters into the heroes of legend. He drove progress in the heart of unspeakable deprivation, as those who had no means to win sought survival at all costs. In this way, he is a force for evolution, although mortals too often forget that evolution isn't a staircase. It’s one tree among many, whose branches stretch out searching for the optimal environment, sending out roots and seeds to populate creation with extensions of itself. Sometimes an offshoot fails to thrive. Sometimes a limb is diseased and pruning is required. This is one of the functions of War.
So he walks through the ages, appearing as a holy man, a foot soldier, a camp follower. He lives in the moment and feels the pain and the exultation of humanity in every torn muscle and bloody scrape. In his truest form though, his voice is the cries of the victorious and the dying mingling on a battlefield soaked in blood and his footsteps echo with the thunder of war horses and the crackle of gunshots. He admires the planning of a devastating offensive campaign just as he takes pride in the precision of a bullet placed just so. He is War and for a very long time, there is no more thought to it than that.
It is fitting then, that when he falls in love after an eon of existence as a force of nature, it is with a woman whose body is at war with itself.
~John Wick~
Notes:
Between real life and new fandoms, my usual stories are in writer's block but this one just wouldn't let me put it down. I may continue it as some point with the right inspiration. Thank you for reading! Please comment and kudos on the way out if you're moved to do so.
John Wick is a man at war with the world and himself.
"His voice is the cries of the victorious and the dying mingling on a battlefield soaked in blood."
Notes:
This was inspired by a line from The Mark of the Beast by asuralucier- "It means that I’m someone who is ready for war.” I couldn't stop thinking about John as the embodiment of the human concept of War, it describes his existence so well. No Infringement is meant, both to the canon story or asuralucier's work, which is amazing and you should check it out.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Chapter 1: In the Beginning
He had been born for it, as much as a thing like him can be born. He came into being as a primal force of the universe; his physical shape was ever-changing, adapting to suit his calling. As the herald of violence, the conductor in the theater of War, he was often male, tall; a strong body paired with instincts that leaned towards the swift and brutal. It was not always so. In life, just as war came in many guises, so too did War. Sometimes he was female, a striking face to throw the thoughts of men into passion, a spark that became an inferno of pained cries and mutilated bodies in the fight for domination. Other times he came as a wizened man, a prophet whose words brought enlightenment. Those who have heard what they believe to be a higher power are often driven to enforce their interpretation on others, though the cost be paid in the blood of their heretical enemies.
In the end, his mortal guise was merely a function of his calling. He was War, the crucible that forged men into monsters and made monsters into the heroes of legend. He drove progress in the heart of unspeakable deprivation, as those who had no means to win sought survival at all costs. In this way, he is a force for evolution, although mortals too often forget that evolution isn't a staircase. It’s one tree among many, whose branches stretch out searching for the optimal environment, sending out roots and seeds to populate creation with extensions of itself. Sometimes an offshoot fails to thrive. Sometimes a limb is diseased and pruning is required. This is one of the functions of War.
So he walks through the ages, appearing as a holy man, a foot soldier, a camp follower. He lives in the moment and feels the pain and the exultation of humanity in every torn muscle and bloody scrape. In his truest form though, his voice is the cries of the victorious and the dying mingling on a battlefield soaked in blood and his footsteps echo with the thunder of war horses and the crackle of gunshots. He admires the planning of a devastating offensive campaign just as he takes pride in the precision of a bullet placed just so. He is War and for a very long time, there is no more thought to it than that.
It is fitting then, that when he falls in love after an eon of existence as a force of nature, it is with a woman whose body is at war with itself.
~John Wick~
Notes:
Between real life and new fandoms, my usual stories are in writer's block but this one just wouldn't let me put it down. I may continue it as some point with the right inspiration. Thank you for reading! Please comment and kudos on the way out if you're moved to do so.
