STAINED BY TO BE REVEALED [LFWS #4 ROUND 1]
Title: Stained
Author: To be revealed
Rating: PG
Spoilers: The Last Man (Season 4 Episode 20)
Genre(s): Character introspective/vignette
Character(s): Atlantis (given voice by the stained glass window), Sheppard, Carter, McKay, Chuck.
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Prompt for the Round: Write a fic in first person using an inanimate object as POV. Must feature at least one member from the team but it can also have anyone else. The fic must start with "I am".
STAINED by TO BE REVEALED
I am glass.
I have endured through many ages; in many forms. Now, in this incarnation, restored, I hang behind the portal, built by the Makers, that the new inhabitants of this city which gives me life call the Stargate, and the superstitious name as the Ring of the Ancestors.
Do they not know the Makers were naught but incessant meddlers, interfering where their hands did not belong? No matter. I am a part of this great city their meddling brought to be and as such, my sentience answers to the call of that ancient spark within them - and within the one among the few who carries it the strongest.
They have lost him. He stepped through the portal yet has failed to reappear where light filters, many coloured, through my living heart.
The city weeps for him; misses the touch of his mind; craves his return as much as his companions that pace the tiles; force strings of programming through the nerve centres of the city to find a way to bring him home.
~Light fades. Night falls, and I am left alone with my thoughts of his coming.~
It had been quiet, the Makers long since gone, fleeing the ones their folly had- ah, but that is a tale for another time. Quiet broken only by the monotony of loneliness since they had gone until the portal exploded forth, gravid with the promise of change, and excitement flurried through my waiting, dormant heart.
The moment he stepped from the portal I knew; could feel that ancient spark within him, and the city's answering awakening; my own. Hidden signals; pulses… a heartbeat excited long dead pathways and brought to life the legacy awaiting him, but… had he learned or was he sullied by the foolish arrogance of his progenitors?
~Night fades. Day breaks, and I am left with a fear of a return to that oblivion.~
"Unscheduled offworld activation!"
I have come to know those words, understand the worry and panic they instil in the ones that think they now control the city. The shield will go up; protect them at all costs, a wise precaution since there many enemies that they have made in this galaxy - all of whom want control… of us; Atlantis… me.
"I don't care, Rodney." The blonde woman's voice. "We follow protocol. Until we see a-"
"It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC." The one that sits at the controls for the portal, monitors the coming and going of signals to and from their machines interrupts the woman's urgent tirade.
She lifts her hand to the device inside her ear that will send her voice through the halls, disturbing the sad solitude of thought.
"Security detail to the Gateroom!" She turns then to the man she had berated. "Rodney, you're with me,"
They hurry down the steps into my demesne.
The moment the cool of the event horizon leaves him, he is welcomed home; enveloped by organic warmth and, as he answers his companions' actions, his mind; that gift of his ancestors, answers.
The soldiers aim weapons in his direction. In their midst stand the others, frowning.
“Whoa!” The Descendent spreads his arms, raising his hands to deflect them. “Whoa.”
“John…” the woman greets him; sounds confused.
“Colonel…” he looks around; looks up toward the control room; at the bubbling pylons. Relief and amazement flood from him. “It worked. It worked, Rodney, you’re a genius.”
“Okay,” the man agrees.
“John, what happened?” the woman asks.
“How much time has gone by?” The Descendent answers.
“You’ve been missing for twelve days.”
“Twelve days,” he repeats, mostly to himself, but we of the city… I hear the thoughts that run through his head, to match the words he speaks. “Twelve days is okay she wouldn’t have had her baby yet. Look… I know this sounds kinda weird but we’re on the clock.”
“John, what are you talking about?” The woman sounds frustrated as well she might. He does not tell her everything. I know. I have seen those fearful futures he harbours inside. I know he seeks to change them - to interfere.
“I know where Teyla is,” he says urgently as the others exchange glances of worried shock, and I…?
I sigh.
By his thoughts and intents I know that he is stained with the same blind arrogance as the Makers, to think that he can bend life, and the future, to his will. It will return to balance, one way or another, and his meddling will have consequences, but… not now…
Now, he restores the fragile sense of belonging, of companionship that I crave; that the city needs, and content with that amid the sadness of what I know it to come… I fall to acquiescence, for… after all, I am nothing…
I am glass.
Author: To be revealed
Rating: PG
Spoilers: The Last Man (Season 4 Episode 20)
Genre(s): Character introspective/vignette
Character(s): Atlantis (given voice by the stained glass window), Sheppard, Carter, McKay, Chuck.
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Prompt for the Round: Write a fic in first person using an inanimate object as POV. Must feature at least one member from the team but it can also have anyone else. The fic must start with "I am".
STAINED by TO BE REVEALED
I am glass.
I have endured through many ages; in many forms. Now, in this incarnation, restored, I hang behind the portal, built by the Makers, that the new inhabitants of this city which gives me life call the Stargate, and the superstitious name as the Ring of the Ancestors.
Do they not know the Makers were naught but incessant meddlers, interfering where their hands did not belong? No matter. I am a part of this great city their meddling brought to be and as such, my sentience answers to the call of that ancient spark within them - and within the one among the few who carries it the strongest.
They have lost him. He stepped through the portal yet has failed to reappear where light filters, many coloured, through my living heart.
The city weeps for him; misses the touch of his mind; craves his return as much as his companions that pace the tiles; force strings of programming through the nerve centres of the city to find a way to bring him home.
~Light fades. Night falls, and I am left alone with my thoughts of his coming.~
It had been quiet, the Makers long since gone, fleeing the ones their folly had- ah, but that is a tale for another time. Quiet broken only by the monotony of loneliness since they had gone until the portal exploded forth, gravid with the promise of change, and excitement flurried through my waiting, dormant heart.
The moment he stepped from the portal I knew; could feel that ancient spark within him, and the city's answering awakening; my own. Hidden signals; pulses… a heartbeat excited long dead pathways and brought to life the legacy awaiting him, but… had he learned or was he sullied by the foolish arrogance of his progenitors?
~Night fades. Day breaks, and I am left with a fear of a return to that oblivion.~
"Unscheduled offworld activation!"
I have come to know those words, understand the worry and panic they instil in the ones that think they now control the city. The shield will go up; protect them at all costs, a wise precaution since there many enemies that they have made in this galaxy - all of whom want control… of us; Atlantis… me.
"I don't care, Rodney." The blonde woman's voice. "We follow protocol. Until we see a-"
"It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC." The one that sits at the controls for the portal, monitors the coming and going of signals to and from their machines interrupts the woman's urgent tirade.
She lifts her hand to the device inside her ear that will send her voice through the halls, disturbing the sad solitude of thought.
"Security detail to the Gateroom!" She turns then to the man she had berated. "Rodney, you're with me,"
They hurry down the steps into my demesne.
The moment the cool of the event horizon leaves him, he is welcomed home; enveloped by organic warmth and, as he answers his companions' actions, his mind; that gift of his ancestors, answers.
The soldiers aim weapons in his direction. In their midst stand the others, frowning.
“Whoa!” The Descendent spreads his arms, raising his hands to deflect them. “Whoa.”
“John…” the woman greets him; sounds confused.
“Colonel…” he looks around; looks up toward the control room; at the bubbling pylons. Relief and amazement flood from him. “It worked. It worked, Rodney, you’re a genius.”
“Okay,” the man agrees.
“John, what happened?” the woman asks.
“How much time has gone by?” The Descendent answers.
“You’ve been missing for twelve days.”
“Twelve days,” he repeats, mostly to himself, but we of the city… I hear the thoughts that run through his head, to match the words he speaks. “Twelve days is okay she wouldn’t have had her baby yet. Look… I know this sounds kinda weird but we’re on the clock.”
“John, what are you talking about?” The woman sounds frustrated as well she might. He does not tell her everything. I know. I have seen those fearful futures he harbours inside. I know he seeks to change them - to interfere.
“I know where Teyla is,” he says urgently as the others exchange glances of worried shock, and I…?
I sigh.
By his thoughts and intents I know that he is stained with the same blind arrogance as the Makers, to think that he can bend life, and the future, to his will. It will return to balance, one way or another, and his meddling will have consequences, but… not now…
Now, he restores the fragile sense of belonging, of companionship that I crave; that the city needs, and content with that amid the sadness of what I know it to come… I fall to acquiescence, for… after all, I am nothing…
I am glass.