welcome to the dvd commentary for the first installment of Choir Box! this was requested by lazar_grrl, eons ago. wah. but!

what do we have here? some intro notes. lethy first emailed me, kinda totally out of the blue, with this idea to do a different sort of songfic. at first, i had no idea what she was talking about. *laughs* but we chatted back and forth, and the bones of the fic series were born. she would create the songs based on my fics which would be based on her songs... in other words, songs and fics that are made for each other. nifty. me, turn down getting lethy music made for me?? ha!

lethy wanted to do music in a... *forgets the word she used* well, these sorts of songs. ^_^ based on what materials she would have, and what she was interested in at the time... we came up with the theme of "Choir Box." then, i sorta... mapped out a list of characters we would focus on for each song, leading up to the main five boys, and all centered around the same church. music had to be key, but the fics and the songs should also stand on their own.

this is the first one, focusing on Zechs. sexy zechsy... *coughs* i'll reread the fic, and make comments as i go along. enjoy!

title: Choir Box: Feast of the Holy Innocents
fandom: Gundam Wing
characters/pairings: Zechs/Treize, Une, Noin, Sally, Relena, Heero, Duo, Father Maxwell, Sister Helen, Mr. & Mrs. Peacecraft, Walker
rating: Teen
warnings: sex, some language
summary: Zechs takes a moment to look back at his life as Milliardo Peacecraft before moving on.
notes: song by Lethanon: God Has Won
much gratitude to Lethanon, for sharing her abundant talents with us, and allowing me to tag along on this journey. please make sure to go download the song to get the full effect, and go to her site to get fansong cds from Leth. because she rocks. ^_^
these fics will have strong Catholic overtones, but if i do my job right, they won't be essential to the fics. all the fic titles will come from feast days in the Catholic calendar.

there are many cds available for purchase on her site. it's damned good stuff, so go on, check it out!

The thrombing echo of the bells was washed away by the constant patter of the rain. He stood in the doorway and watched the church, made grey and looming by the darkening skies. He stood there and waited, like the cars in the parking lot, examining the lines of the church as if he could discern something about its occupants from the angle of its spires.

mm, wet zechs... *coughs* oh, yeah, forgot to mention... each fic corresponds to a holy day on the christian (catholic) calendar. many of them are quite obscure, like this one. *laughs* well! we have something like 13 fics planned! (only six got done, though...) ^_^ each holy day is intended to go along with the theme of the fic. this is the Feast of the Holy Innocents, which is the day between christmas and new years where the babies killed by Harod, who was searching for Jesus, are remembered. the theme here being the sacrifice of a child...

It seemed fitting to him, as if the heavens were weeping, or perhaps he was being washed away from the memory of those he loved forever. He had a backpack, and a ticket in his pocket. He had not thought to take an umbrella, and at this point, there seemed to be little reason for it. Between him and the church was the garden where couples got their picture taken for their wedding. He could see them, together, the sun shining down on her in her perfect white dress, he so fine in his tuxedo, tailored for the occasion. He would put his arm around her waist and draw her close to his body, intimately, and old ladies with blue hair would coo about how lovely they looked.

treize and une make such a fake lovely couple. heh. i also have trouble spelling treize. i want to spell it trieze. and i never know which is right. whoops.

Phantom bile and blood filled his mouth, and he crossed the soaked garden. He did not choose to do so; he just acted. He looked up at the soaked face of Mary, her single tear making redundant the rain. Would she weep for him when he was gone, or rejoice, another unwanted child out of sight and out of mind?

heh, keep remembering things... so the church that is the center of all these fics is Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow, hence the statue of the crying Virgin Mary in the courtyard. Our Blessed Mother has many titles... MANY titles. she was a simple girl, but she has something like 150 names now. =p not 100% sure that perpetual sorrow is one of her names, but it's fitting, none the less. of course, mary's sorrow stems from watching her little boy being crucified, which ties in nicely with the holy innocents and zechs leaving...

He opened the side door to the church, and stepped inside gently, holding the door as it closed so as not to make a noise. Since he was a boy, he'd been through all the back corridors and into every nook and cranny of this church. His parents were prominent people, which meant that they were in the center of everything, and that they were giving. He'd been a toddler, still learning to put words and objects together in his mind, when his mother had left him in the sacristy while she went to her committee meetings. He'd gotten into trouble when he was five for spilling the wine all over the priest's vestments. But in truth, Father Maxwell had only laughed and assured his parents that it was no bother. Even Sister Helen, who had sighed, exasperated, had smiled and winked at him. But his father had not forgiven him so easily. He hadn't wanted to drink the wine...

yes, and father maxwell and sister helen run the church. ^_^ what we see here, and in some of the later fics, too, is the notion that the Peacecrafts appear to be fine, upstanding people, but there are chinks in their shiny armor. or something.

He slipped back to the small set of steps that the altar servers went up to light the candles above the side altar. From here, he could see everyone in the church unobtrusively. His parents were in the first pew, as always, his father sitting up straight, his back like an iron rod, his platinum hair pulled back into a severe tail. He sighed. He looked so much like his father. Everyone expected him to be the perfect little clone of the perfect man.

the church is visualized as being very old, gothic, and in bad need of being rehabed. lotsa dark corners with falling apart fixtures, but people like the Peacecrafts keep it going.

He fell so short of what people expected of him.

His father stared straight ahead as Father Maxwell read the gospel. It was the story of the Holy Innocents, children sacrificed in the place Jesus. Perhaps it was irony, he thought to himself, or perhaps it was just timing. Perhaps he was his father's sacrifice, offered up in place of the one his father had truly desired.

this fic is boring to dvd-commentary. *twiddles thumbs* i haven't even noticed the typos yet, tho i'm sure they are here. =p my writing isn't "deep" enough for me to blather about pretentiously, so unless i can rip it to shreds...

Father Maxwell began his homily, his kindness and gentle spirit echoing softly against the backdrop of the continuous rain. His mother watched Father intently, nodding her head from time to time, and even winking at him. Sometimes, he thought his mother fancied the priest, even though Father Maxwell was much older than she. Or perhaps she was just a frustrated nun. He didn't understand his mother that well. He didn't think that she agreed with his father's unilateral rejection of him, but she said nothing in objection. Did it matter to her at all that she was losing her firstborn son? Would she pray for him when he was gone, or would she simply erase him from her thoughts, one less thing to bother about on a long list of things she had to worry about as she tried to save the world via committee?

i think i was visualizing, in some aspects, the church i "grew up in" for this. Not entirely, because this is more gothic, but anyway. when i was a child, the paster of our parish was this wonderful man who just so filled with love and wonder, and his homilies were fantastic to listen to. he had MS (which was not common knowledge at the time), and these bitches in our parish drove him away by writing letters to the archbishop that he was a drunk. ....people are great. now, that parish is this ULTRA yuppy haven with tons of money they love flaunting around. anyway.

His teachers were scattered throughout the church. His favorite teacher was sitting in the aisle, not too far back, a rather bold choice considering the social structures of the church, but it didn't matter at all to Ms. Po. She would understand, he thought. She had helped him to graduate early, after all. Noin was there, sitting with her family. He wanted to feel sympathy for her, because he did think that she cared for him, but her love was so blind, it didn't feel like it had anything to do with him at all.

i really dislike Noin, and i'm pretty sure we cut her out of the lineup for fics. ^_^ i don't buy the Zechs/Noin relationship... AT ALL. in canon, she chases after him like a drooling fanatic, even when it's QUITE clear he doesn't EVER think about her unless she's standing right in front of him. she abandons what she KNOWS to be right just to be by his side. and she forces her presence on him without ever getting any indication that he cares one way or the other, more than just the kind of slight affection you might have for a puppy that follows you home. in fact, zechs is ALWAYS surrounded by people who are ready to commit ritual suicide just so he can get a better seat at a restaurant... i think he just takes it for granted, that people generally want to die to make him happy. he doesn't even see these people. in this respect, i think relena is FAR more sympathetic a character than Noin. i mean... relena is obnoxious at the end of the series, but she's behaving like a 16 year old girl, so it's understandable. Noin is an officer in the military, one of the highest ranking officers there is, she's older, and she should know better. ~_~

this rant is brought to you by my never-ending distaste for all things noin. ^_^

Up in the choir box, Duo Maxwell started to sing the solo for the Presentation. His voice was still clear as a bell, Sister Helen's pride and joy. He felt a sharp pang, realizing that he would never hear Duo's voice change. As always, Heero Yuy stood next to Duo, his sharp eyes watching his best friend at all times. Sometimes, he thought about his sister's infatuation with Heero, and Heero's utter devotion to Duo, and it made him want to laugh out loud.

duo as a singer... kinda a stretch. *sheepish* but, given the overlying theme... hopefully, we'll get to the end fics in the series, that focus on heero and duo, and the singing thing will pay off. anyway, just buy it for now. meep. ...and we never did get there...

His family was plagued by homosexuals, it seemed.

He watched his sister for a long time, aching so much he nearly tore up his ticket. She was so lovely, so innocent. Was he ever like her? She looked more like their mother, her blonde hair more tinged with brown, her cornflower blue eyes brighter than his. He couldn't remember being so honest and unfettered as she was. She was like an angel to him, like hope. She was clean and pure and strong, and he wanted nothing but happiness for her forever.

zechs' love for his sister is one of his redeeming characteristics.

He had never been like her, but then, he'd spent his youth with the Khushrenada's, against his parents' wishes. Treize was a few years older than him, and he seemed to know everything. Treize was a patient tutor in the ways of life, at least to him, and there were many, many things Treize taught him that his father did not approve of at all.

heh. treize IS the only character zechs has any chemistry with... and treize CANONICALLY lusts after zechs. and zechs actually respects treize!

He could no longer look away. He turned his eyes to the pew across the aisle from his parents, where the Khushrenada's sat. Treize's father was sickly, and unable to work or go to church, so Treize, at twenty, had taken over. He sat in the first seat, his perfectly tailored suit hanging elegantly from his body as he sat. He had his legs folded neatly over each other, his hands laying flat on top of each other on his knee. Treize was better than perfection; he was vital.

purr. ^_~ treize is so decadent.

He felt himself breathing harder. He ignored the woman sitting next to Treize, his lover and fiancée in name alone. She was inconsequential. She had made small talk with his mother at the Founder's Day celebration while Treize had fondled him behind the azaleas. She did not demand Treize's devotion or his love, simply content to be by his side.

*cuddles une* now, see... une knows she's treize's lapdog. and she gets jealous and protective, but she's useful to treize, and she doesn't expect him to drag her into his rose bath. plus, she's frickin' nuts. *loves on une*

He was the one that Treize loved best. He was the one that made Treize scream. Treize was a man of luxury and excess, and he was the one that inflamed Treize's desire to the point where he was overcome with it. He was Treize's drug, Treize's addiction.

soooooo true. *assumes everyone has fallen asleep during this commentary* meep! *makes monkeys dance to make it more exciting*

Treize kissed him for the first time when he was ten. He'd started to grow his hair out, at Treize's suggestion, and it was about at his chin. It had been raining then, too, but it was a summer rain, with the sun shining through it, a welcome relief from the heat, and Treize had grabbed the tendrils of his hair and held his face as they kissed. Treize had tasted like cotton candy, and it made him feel warm and happy to be so close to Treize.

That had only been the first step.

Treize had always called him Zechs, a little nickname that he'd picked for himself, the name of a villain from one of the nickel comics his nanny always carried in her bag. It had been something private between them, as if he could change everything about himself with just a name. As if he could be Treize's if he was no longer a Peacecraft.

naming someone indicates ownership... *hums* *waits expectantly for dancing monkeys*

And the first time they'd shared a bed. They'd made love. They'd had sex. They'd fucked. He didn't know anymore what the right term was; the promises of love and eternity that had lulled him into Treize's grasp seemed blank and hollow now.

Treize touched him. He'd resisted, he'd trembled, he begged Treize, pleading though he couldn't articulate, couldn't think. Treize had kissed his neck, unbuttoning his shirt. Treize put hands on his hips, and had led him down. Running his fingers through his hair, Treize promised him that everything was going to be fine.

He'd taken off his clothes, and watched Treize take off his clothes. His heart had been pounding and his palms were sweaty, and he was weak and helpless against Treize's lust. Treize chuckled as he quivered, and whispered in his ear, "Vini." Kissing his lips, Treize took his cock into his hands. "Vidi." Treize licked his chest, sucking on his nipple as fingers probed between his legs. "Vici."

heh. lethy had the vini, vidi, vici in the song. (did i mention the songs are mostly in latin? *SO forgetful*) this worked so well here.

He'd wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, but he spread out his legs and submitted to Treize. He fell asleep afterwards, his head on Treize's chest, and feeling calmed by Treize finger-combing his hair out. He woke up with the sun in his eyes, knowing that he'd be in trouble at home, but too excited by the sinfulness of waking up naked with Treize. He didn't even mind Treize's indulgent smile, because the older man was smiling for him, and his body felt pleasantly drained, so it was all wonderful anyway. He'd reached up to touch Treize sitting up, looking down on him, and he grinned. "Vini." He laid his hand out flat against Treize's skin, grasping with the ends of his fingers at Treize's flesh. "Vidi." He lifted himself up to just barely kiss Treize's chin, slipping back down again before he could even feel Treize against his lips. "Dormivi."

^_^ the vini, vidi, dormivi is also from the song. seems like zechs and treize would enjoy a good joke in latin.

They'd laughed. Treize tickled him. They made love again. Had sex again.

Treize drove him home, and offered to go in with him. His eyes had been concerned and loving. He'd felt protected, strengthened, and at that moment, he'd believed that nothing could hurt him.

He smiled fondly down at Treize as Treize brushed out his pants as he went to kneel down. He couldn't help it, even still. He loved Treize, with his whole heart and soul. He didn't even blame him. Treize had promised him a dozen times and more that they would be together forever, that they would leave this town hand in hand. But Treize was getting married in six months, and he was leaving alone.

poor treize. always left behind, doing what is expected of him while zechs runs off to be a terrorist...

It should have worked. Maybe if his father hadn't been so uncaring, they could have made it work. Maybe he could swallow his pride, and take Noin to the governor's ball, and act the part of the penitent son, and hide his love away like a good boy should.

But his pride was unpalatable, and his love longed for the light of day.

that sentence is fairly pretentious. *blushes* the first part is ok. i think i vaguely recall feeling that it was pretentious when i wrote it, but it sounded like something zechs would think. maybe? hopefully...

Perhaps Treize was just less able to give up the luxuries of life. Perhaps he was being unreasonable to expect his lover to drop everything for him. Perhaps his father was right, after all. Perhaps this conquest was doomed by God from the very beginning.

But it was his sin to covet, to nurture, to love, and it was what made him real. His father might be right; he might not have a son. Milliardo Peacecraft could blink out of existence and he wouldn't care at all. Perhaps it was time for Zechs Merquise to step out of the shadows.

i'm fairly sure this is how zechs thinks. though this is pretty conceited, too.

He stared at Treize as the congregation sung the Our Father. He wanted to catch his eye for one last time. He'd lost everything for Treize's love; he wanted one last second before he turned his back on everything. Still, even as he was willing Treize to look up and see him there, he was shocked when Treize actually did look at him. Treize's eyes widened momentarily, but he recovered quickly. His face did not betray any emotion or reaction, but Zechs felt he knew what Treize was thinking, nonetheless. Perhaps he was just projecting, but it gave him comfort to think he knew his lover well enough to read his thoughts. He turned the corners of his lips up slowly, hoping that Treize could read him as well.

and that treize can see that well, given that zechs is in the shadows and kinda far away. oh yeah. boy's projecting. *coughs*

He slipped back and away, and exited the church as quietly as he'd entered. It was still raining, Mary's tear still shining from beneath the wetness; his tear was well hidden by the rain.

He had to walk to the train station. He felt jangled, ill at ease, like he was forgetting something, even though he barely had anything at all. Walker had been quite eager to offer him a place to stay, and he'd even promised to pick him up from the station in the morning. He didn't have anything to worry about, because he'd been planning this for nearly a year now.

walker from the anime, one of many who was ready and willing and anxious to die for zechs... i think i had a firm idea of what would happen to him after this... like, years later, heero and duo would move to the city, and end up in the same building as zechs and his (latest) lover. anyway, he ends up fine, i'm sure.

He stopped and looked at the church over his shoulder. He could hear the choir singing through the stone, he felt, the echoes of chanted Latin sending him onward and holding him down. He could still take it all back, he could still stay and not give up this life, these expectations, these castigations, these lies, these fears. This love.

erg. this is getting a wee bit overboard with the pretentious as we go on, but i'm still relatively sure it's zechs' fault...

He trusted Une to take care of Treize, even if he didn't love her. He trusted Heero to look out for Relena, even if her crush was one-sided. He trusted that his mother would find some committee or cause to fill up her thoughts. He trusted his father to remain righteous.

There was nothing left for him here. Terrible, at eighteen, to have burned through an entire life, but there it was.

He turned his back to the church, and walked with his face to the wind to the train station. It was time for a new life.

*hums against the wind*

the lyrics to the accompanying music...

Choir Box: God Has Won

Omnium rerun principia parva sunt
Sunt lacriminae rerum et mentum mortalia tangunt
Homines libenter quod volunt credunt
Purga mentum init, exit purgamentum

Vincit, Vidi, Vici
Veni, Vidi, Dormivi
Dies irae, dies illa gravitatis
Solvet mutet orbem terrerum
in favillam, in favillam

Sursum Corda, sursum corda
Quo vadis, quo vadis ista est
Veni, vidi, deus vicit

Medio tutissmmus ibis
Fronti nulla fides
Ab origine usque finem
Ante bellum, vade mecum
Agnus Dei
Mihi quoque spem tu dedisti
Preces meae non sum dignae
Non nobis, non nobis, domine


Quid novi avis
Annuit coeptis
Sub rosa, tabula rasa

first half of chorus as a round x2

Solvet mutet orbem terrarum
in favillam, in favillam x2

which translates to :

Everything has a small beginning
These are the tears of things and our mortality cuts to the heart
Men believe what they want to
garbage in, garbage out.
I came, I saw, I conquered
I came, I saw, I slept...
the day of wrath, that day of grief...
shall change the world to glowing ash.

Chorus: Lift up your hearts, lift up your hearts!
Whither goest thou? Whither goest thou?
This is it.
I came, I saw, and God has won.

i realllllllly love this song. it's so effin' perfect. this chorus is really cool to me, because there's a rather common church-song *coughs* that we sing a lot in America (don't know how prevalent it is in Australia) called Lift up your hearts, so this feels so very apt, like... the church is rejecting zechs, or zechs is being expelled from the church... of course, i had these lyrics before i wrote it, i think (MAN, my brain is foggy) so.........

You will go most safely by the middle course
No reliance can be placed on appearance
From start to finish
Before the war, go with me,
Lamb of God
Twas you to me beside gave me hope
Unworthy are my prayerful pleas
Not unto us, not unto us Lord

no reliance can be placed in appearance was another line i particularly picked up on.


Bridge: What's new, bird?
God has favored us.
Under the rose, a clean slate.

well, that's it. hope you enjoyed it! ^_^