Camp NaNo - Day 18
Today: 
Overall:
My dad was home for the morning, so I didn't get any writing done. Plus, I had to blitz the final chapters of Bacta War so I could write up the discussion post. By the time I got to my NaNovel, it was 10:30pm and all I wanted was to go to bed.
Plus, I couldn't remember where I was going on that last tangent, as I stopped several paragraphs into the start of a scene with no notes to tell my future self WTF was up with that.
Ah well. It turned into A Moment, that I now share with you.
---
John stood on the observation balcony overlooking the embarkation floor, arms crossed over his chest and a slight frown playing over his face; below him, the final team was stepping through the event horizon and being met by Sergeant Stackhouse. John was still pissed at the fact that Long managed to slip through the cracks. John's city had been invaded and he felt distinctly uncomfortable about it.
His anger at the situation masked Teyla's quiet presence for several moments before John became aware of her standing next to him. They stood in companionable silence until the 'Gate shut down and Stackhouse escorted the off-world team off the embarkation floor and down the hall towards the infirmary. Being slightly removed from the control room due to their position on the balcony meant they still had a modicum of privacy from the quiet buzz of equipment and the occasional tapping of keyboards.
This privacy didn't seem to be enough for Teyla to say what she had come to say, however, and John turned his head slightly to watch as she first placed a gentle hand on his arm, then let it fall away as she headed for the door to the outdoor balcony. John gave Teyla a five-step head start before peeling away from his spot and following her outside. He settled next to her, mimicking her position with arms resting on the railing and leaning forward to take in the cool, salty breeze.
He let her make the first conversational move. "How are you doing, John?" Her tone was part concern for his mental state, and all sincerity and genuine inquisitiveness over all. She wasn't asking because it was her duty or because she was trying to give him a means to talk about things; she was asking because she really wanted to know, and really cared about the answer. So John did the only thing he could do to honour that concern: he actually thought about it before he replied to the question.
And that reply was, "Pretty lousy, actually." When Teyla's response didn't go beyond the sympathetic look she flashed him, he added, "I feel violated, y'know? Like, it's my job to protect this city, and I let this guy slip into our home and place us in danger. Now he's out there doing God knows what in the presence of the Wraith, and I can't do anything about it. I can't run off to save Lorne and Zelenka and Poole and Galvin because I don't know where they are, or if they're still alive. I don't know if we're going to be seeing Hive ships in orbit at any given point because I don't know what information Long has parted company with."
He hadn't meant to info dump on her; it was totally out of character for him, and the look on her face acknowledged the fact that she knew it. Anytime they'd attempted a heart-to-heart like this, he'd been inarticulate and reticent, and she'd done what she could to fill in the blanks. But his frustration and feeling of impotency at not being able to control the uncontrollable caused a slight tear to open in his brain-to-mouth filter, which allowed the words to come tumbling out.
It didn't happen often.
This entry was also posted at http://obiwanken5.dreamwidth.org/417726.html.
Overall:
My dad was home for the morning, so I didn't get any writing done. Plus, I had to blitz the final chapters of Bacta War so I could write up the discussion post. By the time I got to my NaNovel, it was 10:30pm and all I wanted was to go to bed.
Plus, I couldn't remember where I was going on that last tangent, as I stopped several paragraphs into the start of a scene with no notes to tell my future self WTF was up with that.
Ah well. It turned into A Moment, that I now share with you.
---
John stood on the observation balcony overlooking the embarkation floor, arms crossed over his chest and a slight frown playing over his face; below him, the final team was stepping through the event horizon and being met by Sergeant Stackhouse. John was still pissed at the fact that Long managed to slip through the cracks. John's city had been invaded and he felt distinctly uncomfortable about it.
His anger at the situation masked Teyla's quiet presence for several moments before John became aware of her standing next to him. They stood in companionable silence until the 'Gate shut down and Stackhouse escorted the off-world team off the embarkation floor and down the hall towards the infirmary. Being slightly removed from the control room due to their position on the balcony meant they still had a modicum of privacy from the quiet buzz of equipment and the occasional tapping of keyboards.
This privacy didn't seem to be enough for Teyla to say what she had come to say, however, and John turned his head slightly to watch as she first placed a gentle hand on his arm, then let it fall away as she headed for the door to the outdoor balcony. John gave Teyla a five-step head start before peeling away from his spot and following her outside. He settled next to her, mimicking her position with arms resting on the railing and leaning forward to take in the cool, salty breeze.
He let her make the first conversational move. "How are you doing, John?" Her tone was part concern for his mental state, and all sincerity and genuine inquisitiveness over all. She wasn't asking because it was her duty or because she was trying to give him a means to talk about things; she was asking because she really wanted to know, and really cared about the answer. So John did the only thing he could do to honour that concern: he actually thought about it before he replied to the question.
And that reply was, "Pretty lousy, actually." When Teyla's response didn't go beyond the sympathetic look she flashed him, he added, "I feel violated, y'know? Like, it's my job to protect this city, and I let this guy slip into our home and place us in danger. Now he's out there doing God knows what in the presence of the Wraith, and I can't do anything about it. I can't run off to save Lorne and Zelenka and Poole and Galvin because I don't know where they are, or if they're still alive. I don't know if we're going to be seeing Hive ships in orbit at any given point because I don't know what information Long has parted company with."
He hadn't meant to info dump on her; it was totally out of character for him, and the look on her face acknowledged the fact that she knew it. Anytime they'd attempted a heart-to-heart like this, he'd been inarticulate and reticent, and she'd done what she could to fill in the blanks. But his frustration and feeling of impotency at not being able to control the uncontrollable caused a slight tear to open in his brain-to-mouth filter, which allowed the words to come tumbling out.
It didn't happen often.
This entry was also posted at http://obiwanken5.dreamwidth.org/417726.html.