Reflections on Glass
Title: Reflections on Glass
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Character: Acastus Kolya
Rating: Gen
Orientation: Gen
Word Count: 549
Prompt: for Ancient City Bingo Fill: “Genii in a Bottle”
He had wanted that city, more than anything he had wanted in his entire life. The bar keep walked past his stool at the plank and Acastus signaled for him to come over.
“Alshash, bring the bottle,” he growled and held up a silver coin. The bar keep chewed his lip, looking at Kolya with uncertainty, but then he nodded and walked away to retrieve the drink. This piss hole of a planet wasn’t good for anything but the alshash, a distilled liquor that numbed the senses and dulled memory.
Acastus Kolya needed to dull the memories, they were eating him alive. He had walked the halls, the place where the Ancients had once tread, had lived, worked and loved and fought the Wraith. He had gazed out the windows upon the towers and spires. He had seen the fury of a storm as it washed over the shields. All of these experiences, the things he had seen had only made him want her more. Atlantis was like a woman, he could not forget her, he was haunted by memories of the time he spent with her.
She had been stolen away from him, by Sheppard and by McKay. He poured the alshash into the glass and swallowed it in one gulp. It burned going down, but left a trail of numbness it the wake of the liquid burn. If they had not taken it from him, his people would have had a place of strength from which to fight the Wraith.
The alshash gave him a comfort he could not find anywhere else. He was disgraced on the home world. He was scarred from the bullets Sheppard had fired at him in those last moments. It had taken months to recover, months in which he watched his life fall to pieces around him.
If he had stayed in the city, if he had been able to bring the jewel under the control of the Genii, had obtained a safe and healthy place for his people to dwell, there would have been no disgrace. He would not be sitting alone, in this dirty place, trying to forget the green walls and soaring architecture, attempting to forget the stairs, the lights and the Gate and the spacious offices walled with glass, delicacy of design such as none to be found on the Genii home world.
He hated John Sheppard. He hated him more than he had ever hated any person or thing in his life. Sheppard had stolen everything from him, had ruined everything for him. The memory of Sheppard standing on the balcony, aiming his weapon and firing forced Kolya’s hand to the bottle once more. He took another deep drink, this time not even bothering with the glass.
The light from the open door of the tavern caught the pinkish fluid in the bottle and cast some colorful prisms on the wall. It reminded him of the stained glass artwork of Atlantis, the fine workmanship that was purely for decoration. Such work was never done in his underground homeland. Nothing there was done without purpose. Art for art’s sake had gone away long ago, if it indeed had every existed in the time since the Wraith.
He had loved that city. It should have been his.
The End
Originally posted at http://rinkafic.dreamwidth.org/
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Character: Acastus Kolya
Rating: Gen
Orientation: Gen
Word Count: 549
Prompt: for Ancient City Bingo Fill: “Genii in a Bottle”
He had wanted that city, more than anything he had wanted in his entire life. The bar keep walked past his stool at the plank and Acastus signaled for him to come over.
“Alshash, bring the bottle,” he growled and held up a silver coin. The bar keep chewed his lip, looking at Kolya with uncertainty, but then he nodded and walked away to retrieve the drink. This piss hole of a planet wasn’t good for anything but the alshash, a distilled liquor that numbed the senses and dulled memory.
Acastus Kolya needed to dull the memories, they were eating him alive. He had walked the halls, the place where the Ancients had once tread, had lived, worked and loved and fought the Wraith. He had gazed out the windows upon the towers and spires. He had seen the fury of a storm as it washed over the shields. All of these experiences, the things he had seen had only made him want her more. Atlantis was like a woman, he could not forget her, he was haunted by memories of the time he spent with her.
She had been stolen away from him, by Sheppard and by McKay. He poured the alshash into the glass and swallowed it in one gulp. It burned going down, but left a trail of numbness it the wake of the liquid burn. If they had not taken it from him, his people would have had a place of strength from which to fight the Wraith.
The alshash gave him a comfort he could not find anywhere else. He was disgraced on the home world. He was scarred from the bullets Sheppard had fired at him in those last moments. It had taken months to recover, months in which he watched his life fall to pieces around him.
If he had stayed in the city, if he had been able to bring the jewel under the control of the Genii, had obtained a safe and healthy place for his people to dwell, there would have been no disgrace. He would not be sitting alone, in this dirty place, trying to forget the green walls and soaring architecture, attempting to forget the stairs, the lights and the Gate and the spacious offices walled with glass, delicacy of design such as none to be found on the Genii home world.
He hated John Sheppard. He hated him more than he had ever hated any person or thing in his life. Sheppard had stolen everything from him, had ruined everything for him. The memory of Sheppard standing on the balcony, aiming his weapon and firing forced Kolya’s hand to the bottle once more. He took another deep drink, this time not even bothering with the glass.
The light from the open door of the tavern caught the pinkish fluid in the bottle and cast some colorful prisms on the wall. It reminded him of the stained glass artwork of Atlantis, the fine workmanship that was purely for decoration. Such work was never done in his underground homeland. Nothing there was done without purpose. Art for art’s sake had gone away long ago, if it indeed had every existed in the time since the Wraith.
He had loved that city. It should have been his.
The End
Originally posted at http://rinkafic.dreamwidth.org/