FIC! Hypomnesia - G
Title: Hypomnesia
Author: CatherineBruce
Rating: G
Fandom: Farscape/Stargate SG-1
Summary: Hypomnesia: Abnormally poor memory of the past.
Beta: Thanks ever so much to xfkirsten for countless checkovers and to kazbaby for reminding me of the original plot.
She is not herself. Hasn't been for years, and has forgotten who that was.
She doesn’t recognize the woman in the mirror. Lately she has taken to looking away from the reflective surface whenever she enters a public restroom. She even went so far as to remove all the mirrors she could in the rooms she had stayed in over the years.
Sometimes though, she would catch glimpses of herself. In the reflection on a spoon, the phantom surface of a window, and it’s then she would pause. Her face wasn’t the one she grew up with, cheeks hollowed by years of hard living. Her eyes weren’t as sharp as they should be. She had lost what had made her a warrior, instead adopting a façade she had stolen from a half-remembered shade of a girl. Instead of calculating an enemy in battle she would calculate the quickest way to con cash out of an unsuspecting male. And so instead of taking her seriously everyone around her acted as though she was a trollop, a tramp.
Here a word would come to the fore of her mind, the sound familiar yet the word completely alien.
A tralk.
Here she would throw the spoon down, startling the people in the mess hall, or turn sharply away from the window. Taking a deep breath, she would then remind herself that she was no longer who she once was.
Maybe one day she would find herself again, the sometimes lover of an insane man she knows she should remember.
But for now, she would stay Vala Mal Doran, lover to no one and an annoyance to all.
-end?
I'm thinking of continuing, but I figure that if I don't this is as good a stopping place as any.
-CB
Author: CatherineBruce
Rating: G
Fandom: Farscape/Stargate SG-1
Summary: Hypomnesia: Abnormally poor memory of the past.
Beta: Thanks ever so much to xfkirsten for countless checkovers and to kazbaby for reminding me of the original plot.
She is not herself. Hasn't been for years, and has forgotten who that was.
She doesn’t recognize the woman in the mirror. Lately she has taken to looking away from the reflective surface whenever she enters a public restroom. She even went so far as to remove all the mirrors she could in the rooms she had stayed in over the years.
Sometimes though, she would catch glimpses of herself. In the reflection on a spoon, the phantom surface of a window, and it’s then she would pause. Her face wasn’t the one she grew up with, cheeks hollowed by years of hard living. Her eyes weren’t as sharp as they should be. She had lost what had made her a warrior, instead adopting a façade she had stolen from a half-remembered shade of a girl. Instead of calculating an enemy in battle she would calculate the quickest way to con cash out of an unsuspecting male. And so instead of taking her seriously everyone around her acted as though she was a trollop, a tramp.
Here a word would come to the fore of her mind, the sound familiar yet the word completely alien.
A tralk.
Here she would throw the spoon down, startling the people in the mess hall, or turn sharply away from the window. Taking a deep breath, she would then remind herself that she was no longer who she once was.
Maybe one day she would find herself again, the sometimes lover of an insane man she knows she should remember.
But for now, she would stay Vala Mal Doran, lover to no one and an annoyance to all.
-end?
I'm thinking of continuing, but I figure that if I don't this is as good a stopping place as any.
-CB