[truth_or_dare: 23 Dare]
(RP!Canon-verse. Sam is wants_to_resist. Pandora's box was actually a jar, but go with me on the metaphor. ::grins::)
Dare: Open it
Kara Thrace is on Galactica, and she is dreaming. Below her orbits Earth, a wasteland of broken hopes and tangled metal. The space that surrounds them is silent and dark, but it hums with the threat of a Cylon army and the final battle yet to come.
Beside her Sam is asleep, one arm flung over in silent possessiveness. He's warm and taking up all the room in her crowded bunk, because Kara has still not asked for married housing despite their recent reconciliation.
In her dream, she's standing on the surface of the planet, barefoot, the ground solid beneath her feet. Leoben is before her, smiling, the sea stretched out endlessly behind him. He's holding something in his hand, which is held out towards her in silent supplication. He has stars for eyes. "Take it, Kara," he says, and whatever is in his hand is glowing too bright for her to see.
Kara reaches out and watches as the light in his eyes fades, leaving his eyes their normal, predatory blue. "I can't," she said, angry, because Leoben always makes her angry. "I can't." Her eyes stray to the box, humming with some unearthly music, the sound of which she has not heard since she came back from the storm with the way to earth a torment in her mind.
The unsung music sings to us all.
"You have to," he says and shoves it at her, that thing made of light and burning, and Kara takes it because she knows that if it lands on the ground, if it touches fertile earth, it will leave only cinders in its wake.
The pain of the box in her hand burns like fire, everywhere it touches, flashes of agonizing pain flowing over her body like the ocean behind Leoben. Kara wants to pitch the box in the waves, even though she knows it would mean death--all life needs water to survive.
You are the harbinger of death, Kara Thrace. You will lead them all to their end.
"Open it," Leoben says, still smiling. The light from the box halos around him, makes him look like some kind of angel. An angel of death, or maybe that's her.
"It burns," Kara says, her voice choked with pain. "I can't."
"It's yours," Leoben says softly. "Only you can open it, Kara. Embrace that knowledge and the pain will stop. But there is nothing within that you cannot withstand. If you do not open it, all light here will fade and truth will be lost to darkness."
Kara reaches down and flips the lid, and his face is the last thing she sees before he is swallowed by the light pouring forth from her palms. And if there's pain it doesn't matter, because she's one with it, one with the light, and she can't see anything anymore but white.
When she wakes up, she lies in the darkness and listens to Sam breathing, steady and sure beside her. She curls her hand into a fist and thinks about fire.
Dare: Open it
Kara Thrace is on Galactica, and she is dreaming. Below her orbits Earth, a wasteland of broken hopes and tangled metal. The space that surrounds them is silent and dark, but it hums with the threat of a Cylon army and the final battle yet to come.
Beside her Sam is asleep, one arm flung over in silent possessiveness. He's warm and taking up all the room in her crowded bunk, because Kara has still not asked for married housing despite their recent reconciliation.
In her dream, she's standing on the surface of the planet, barefoot, the ground solid beneath her feet. Leoben is before her, smiling, the sea stretched out endlessly behind him. He's holding something in his hand, which is held out towards her in silent supplication. He has stars for eyes. "Take it, Kara," he says, and whatever is in his hand is glowing too bright for her to see.
Kara reaches out and watches as the light in his eyes fades, leaving his eyes their normal, predatory blue. "I can't," she said, angry, because Leoben always makes her angry. "I can't." Her eyes stray to the box, humming with some unearthly music, the sound of which she has not heard since she came back from the storm with the way to earth a torment in her mind.
The unsung music sings to us all.
"You have to," he says and shoves it at her, that thing made of light and burning, and Kara takes it because she knows that if it lands on the ground, if it touches fertile earth, it will leave only cinders in its wake.
The pain of the box in her hand burns like fire, everywhere it touches, flashes of agonizing pain flowing over her body like the ocean behind Leoben. Kara wants to pitch the box in the waves, even though she knows it would mean death--all life needs water to survive.
You are the harbinger of death, Kara Thrace. You will lead them all to their end.
"Open it," Leoben says, still smiling. The light from the box halos around him, makes him look like some kind of angel. An angel of death, or maybe that's her.
"It burns," Kara says, her voice choked with pain. "I can't."
"It's yours," Leoben says softly. "Only you can open it, Kara. Embrace that knowledge and the pain will stop. But there is nothing within that you cannot withstand. If you do not open it, all light here will fade and truth will be lost to darkness."
Kara reaches down and flips the lid, and his face is the last thing she sees before he is swallowed by the light pouring forth from her palms. And if there's pain it doesn't matter, because she's one with it, one with the light, and she can't see anything anymore but white.
When she wakes up, she lies in the darkness and listens to Sam breathing, steady and sure beside her. She curls her hand into a fist and thinks about fire.