Archive of Our Own ^beta

In the beginning (whenever the hell that was) there was Light!

Lux Imperator existed in that beginning. He existed in the gentle glow off of the moon, and at the same time, he was the glow of the moon. It mingled with his soul, feeding him and keeping him alive.
He floated in the air and gently kissed every surface, every mote of dust. Light was everywhere, and so was he. Perhaps not in the same way as his moonlight existence, but he felt all of it. Humans were like insects crawling on his skin (and insects were like the dust). He was worshipped as the sun was when he reflected in their wet eyes and off of glossy hair. He dazzled them on their oceans and lakes and made everything so beautiful.

Lux Imperator was there until it became dark…and then he laughed.

….

Honestly? There had been no plan involved in entering the movie theater. By the very nature of his being it was a perfect set of coincidences that pulled him in. I mean… The light of the sun reflected off a giant egg pretending to be a moon and that same light reached a spit wet spoon in a movie theater and subsequently a projector where a Mr. Ring-a-Ding cartoon was playing and the man running it was emotionally vulnerable enough to make a deal with a light god!
Lux, or, Mr Ring-a-Ding, was not going to throw away this new existence that was for damn sure!

Of course Lux Imperator hadn’t had coherent thought, in any language, in millenia (or some other ridiculous amount of time) but it was like riding a bike. A brand new, yet somehow ancient consciousness and understanding reached his new Mr. Ring-a-Ding brain, all the information he had passively watched from his perch about his fellow gods settled like the gentle drift of a lightning bug into his new head. Defeated. Sad. Pathetic. Probably inevitable.

Trapped though he was, Lux got a real kick out of being “alive” in a different sense. There was something about the theater he really liked, something nostalgic and warm.
Not to mention that, unlike his brethren and… just about anyone else on this sad planet, Mr. Ring-a-Ding almost liked Reginald Pye. There was a connection to the theater that he could not separate from the man. Not to mention he kept Lux fed with his projector, and sometimes talked to the god even though there was a wariness in his eyes. Rude honestly. Just because Lux could destroy him on a whim!

Lux liked watching him and the light manifestation of his wife dance together, though perhaps that was the soppy cartoon part of him. The part that came with funny music and tears and a sweet hat.

The only real setback had been when Mr. Pye had discovered he could force Mr. Ring-a-Ding to dance when he played his cartoon’s song. One pointed threat towards the man’s wife or perhaps even his physical body (he could join those insipid moviegoers on the film reel) silenced any hope he might have had of controlling the god, but it was frustrating to know there was something that could (even for a short time) stop Lux! ... At least the song was catchy.

“Life” went on.

Mr. Ring-a-Ding watched movies and watched Reginald Pye love his wife and he waited. For what? Who knows. It was a coincidence that brought him to this plane of existence, it would be the same that ushered him to the next.
He had a few ideas, ones that could not be put into play without a real body. One that would not be consumed by the sun.

Hm.

The biggest burden of his existence: He would be consumed. The half life he lived would become a nothingness, mindless, just a reflection of Lux Imperator. He wouldn’t die, surely, but he would become a contradiction of himself (and wasn’t the chaos of that delicious).

He’d been tempted before, in all his “lives”, to step out into the sun.

But what would be the point if everything else was lost?

….

What a coincidence it was that the TARDIS, owned by “The Doctor”, had landed right outside this movie theater in 1952 of all years. A Time Lord with the energy inside of him to give Lux a physical body and free him from the shackles of this cartoon!

The thing was though, that coincidences didn’t always work in your favor.

Lux stared at the sun, his body almost complete, and any thoughts of the atom bombs and the destruction he’d planned to cause completely left him.

It was like breathing smog for years and then getting the sweet relief of fresh air. It comforted him, it joined him, it was him.

He grew, and he accepted his ascension with open arms. Only one emotion prevalent in his mind: Joy.

As he eclipsed the earth, Lux wondered just why he’d fought this.