DPP: Creativity Week Day 3 - What were they thinking?
Previously on DPP:
Monday: Dialogue - The play's the thing. Prompts are open, but no takers
Tuesday: Icons - There are some gorgeous pilots icons there for us all to share in, so please leave some love for the creators, and possibly make some of your ownThese posts are open all week, so if you feel a burst of creativity hit, please do go join in ( Read more... )
Monday: Dialogue - The play's the thing. Prompts are open, but no takers
Tuesday: Icons - There are some gorgeous pilots icons there for us all to share in, so please leave some love for the creators, and possibly make some of your ownThese posts are open all week, so if you feel a burst of creativity hit, please do go join in ( Read more... )
Never before in her life has Kara Thrace wanted to forgo drugs so much as she does while staring up at the bunk above her. Not that she could fly because she can’t frakking touch anything. Her hands hurt just resting. She literally can’t imagine how they would feel if she were gripping the throttle of her viper. Her palms throb just thinking about it. Kara rolls over and checks to see how long it is until she can take another of Cottle’s pills. She might as well ride the morpha while she waits.
It doesn’t help that Sam is smothering her with quiet support. He’ll do anything she asks so of course what she wants is for him to be as far away as possible without having to be told. The words she said to Dee in the raptor chant threw her head, “She loves Sam. She hates Sam.” He won’t leave her no matter how much she cheats. Flaunting it didn’t help and neither did meaning it. She occupies her afternoon trying to figure out how Sam’s love can feel so much like being cornered.
Lee on the other hand doesn’t show his face. Kara hears him from the other side of her privacy curtain. She can indentify his footfall anywhere. He paces the length of her bunk and walks out. She hates him too, but tears well up in her eyes when he leaves without a word again. Her heart clenches in time with the pulse of the pain to her hands until she can hardly breathe. She takes another morpha pill regardless of the time and hopes for a little peace.
In her restless dreams the swirling colors find her. Not that they aren’t always with her, but right now, they might as well be tattooed on the inside of her eyelids. Karl bringing them up, finding her pictures, connecting her own private storm to the Temple of the Five and the cylons, makes them something different. She wakes up shaking and sweating. The red and yellow and blue begin to feel like a way out, real and permanent. Even if she doesn't understand how or why.
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"She occupies her afternoon trying to figure out how Sam’s love can feel so much like being cornered."
Loved that line.
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Glad it worked for you. :D
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Lovely!
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Thanks.
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Oh! So achey and beautiful. You've really hit it out of the park here. Thank you ♥
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