First Story for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
stargatefic100 (In Progress)
Feb. 20th, 2006 01:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fangirljenI'm finishing this today, but before then, I wanted opinions. It's about halfway finished. I still need to do some intergrating because I was doing the scene from memory fo the ep.
Any suggestions or critique is helpful. :) And I will pay with viritual cookies.
Title: It's All in Your Head (Working Title)
Characters: Daniel, Martice
Prompt: 033, Too Much
Word Count: Approx. 869 (had to be at least 500 to continue with the "too much" motif)
Rating: PG
Summary: When trapped in your own head, what else is a guy to do?
Notes: Set in the season seven episode "Lifeboat," but makes references to "Abyss" and general Danny glowy jellyfish days (at least waht he remembers)
He didn’t need a prognosis from Janet to know things weren’t going well for him; he could tell enough of that himself. His head was heavy, overstuffed. The sound of multiple whispers pressed firmly against him. Stifling, suffocating heat rubbing against him; it wasn’t physical, but the sensation was the same: crammed together in too tight of space that was unbraiding, breaking down, threatening to collapse and send all to a horrid end. This space was his mind.
He had awoke to the sound of whispers. At least a dozen people all speaking at the same time, creating a sound similar to the static of a television set that had lost its signal, yet not so piercing, but still as abrasive. First there was the quiet stillness of realization. It wasn’t sleep, but the deeper slumber of unconsciousness; no sound nor motion, but the peace of a dreamless night. And then noise, harsh and invasive shouting voices, voices sounding quite confused. All of them were expressing uneasiness, a sense of wrongness.
He had tried to speak, but the moment he did, a dozen (a dozen?!) others flooded over him, whooshing him away from grasping at the action. The same could be said about all of his motor functions; he tried to move his hand, but that eluded him as well.
It wasn’t as if the others, all lost in their bickering amongst themselves--a sensation which lulled in a melodic rhythm if he tried listening to it for a time, proving to be less uncomfortable, but still very wrong, very wrong--were intentionally pressing him down. No, none of them…wait. There was one, standing if you will, on the edge of the rest. Strong vexation vibrated off that one. A man. This one wasn’t rolling about in confusion with the others, but isolated himself away from the amass of disembodied people. This one was as separate as he himself was, which also spoke of a different kind of discontent, but at the moment, it really didn’t matter.
What really did matter, though, were the questions, how this came to be, where is the way out of this, why do things like this always have a way of happening to him (the last thought came from the recesses, he affirmed, deep down where he could be as bloody cynical as Jack if he wanted to, but preferred not to be, when he would rather think positively…just, this here was a situation difficult to think positively about. In all tense and purposes, though, even though it was not done in malicious intent, their presence was being subversive, as if he were a host (and what a cruel word that was, he decided. Host. It was like he was saying, ‘Here, this is my head. You can stay here, if you like. More the merrier.’ Yeah right!) of a Goa’uld, but this was possibly a dozen times worse, all of their intentions not withstanding consideration, because that didn’t matter much when what he was considering was how he was stuck in his own mind with no apparent means to escape, because hello, his mind; how does one vacate his or her own mind?
Okay, maybe not in his mind, because mind typically meant sense of self, soul, and that could not be reshaped, at least he didn’t think so. Changed, but it was not used as any sort of reciprocal. So, then, the better terminology to use, he decided, was in his head. The lights were on, but too many people were home, he joked to himself. It didn’t help. It didn’t make him feel any bit better. Of course, the original statement he was playing off of hadn’t been that funny, either. He didn’t remember who had said it, but…
_Will you shut up! You are the worst of them!_ a voice snarled.
Sensing proximity in this place was impossible, but he knew who the voice was associated with, and of course, who the voice was referring to. Besides, the other voices were still buzzing in their chatter. If he strained to listen, which was really strange since none of this was in the physical, and the metaphysical was something he had at one time known a great deal about, so he should have felt something familiar about this, but no, it wasn’t anything he remembered feeling before, not even remotely close; of course, being surmounted by a dozen voices was definitely a brand new experience. One that he wouldn’t have stood in line for. Again, he was very close to pondering on what he had done to piss off the universe, which wasn’t something he actually believed, but was one of Jack’s favorite things to mildly tease him about. He did have to admit that thinking this way did somehow make the worst horrors in his life manageable. The weirdest shit that they encountered was apt to happen to him or Jack, more him in recent years, and he did have the worst luck. Both of those, however, he could deal with, had learned how to deal with. Now…
_Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! When your soverign tells you to shut up, you will immediately follow your sovereign’s wishes!_
Any suggestions or critique is helpful. :) And I will pay with viritual cookies.
Title: It's All in Your Head (Working Title)
Characters: Daniel, Martice
Prompt: 033, Too Much
Word Count: Approx. 869 (had to be at least 500 to continue with the "too much" motif)
Rating: PG
Summary: When trapped in your own head, what else is a guy to do?
Notes: Set in the season seven episode "Lifeboat," but makes references to "Abyss" and general Danny glowy jellyfish days (at least waht he remembers)
He didn’t need a prognosis from Janet to know things weren’t going well for him; he could tell enough of that himself. His head was heavy, overstuffed. The sound of multiple whispers pressed firmly against him. Stifling, suffocating heat rubbing against him; it wasn’t physical, but the sensation was the same: crammed together in too tight of space that was unbraiding, breaking down, threatening to collapse and send all to a horrid end. This space was his mind.
He had awoke to the sound of whispers. At least a dozen people all speaking at the same time, creating a sound similar to the static of a television set that had lost its signal, yet not so piercing, but still as abrasive. First there was the quiet stillness of realization. It wasn’t sleep, but the deeper slumber of unconsciousness; no sound nor motion, but the peace of a dreamless night. And then noise, harsh and invasive shouting voices, voices sounding quite confused. All of them were expressing uneasiness, a sense of wrongness.
He had tried to speak, but the moment he did, a dozen (a dozen?!) others flooded over him, whooshing him away from grasping at the action. The same could be said about all of his motor functions; he tried to move his hand, but that eluded him as well.
It wasn’t as if the others, all lost in their bickering amongst themselves--a sensation which lulled in a melodic rhythm if he tried listening to it for a time, proving to be less uncomfortable, but still very wrong, very wrong--were intentionally pressing him down. No, none of them…wait. There was one, standing if you will, on the edge of the rest. Strong vexation vibrated off that one. A man. This one wasn’t rolling about in confusion with the others, but isolated himself away from the amass of disembodied people. This one was as separate as he himself was, which also spoke of a different kind of discontent, but at the moment, it really didn’t matter.
What really did matter, though, were the questions, how this came to be, where is the way out of this, why do things like this always have a way of happening to him (the last thought came from the recesses, he affirmed, deep down where he could be as bloody cynical as Jack if he wanted to, but preferred not to be, when he would rather think positively…just, this here was a situation difficult to think positively about. In all tense and purposes, though, even though it was not done in malicious intent, their presence was being subversive, as if he were a host (and what a cruel word that was, he decided. Host. It was like he was saying, ‘Here, this is my head. You can stay here, if you like. More the merrier.’ Yeah right!) of a Goa’uld, but this was possibly a dozen times worse, all of their intentions not withstanding consideration, because that didn’t matter much when what he was considering was how he was stuck in his own mind with no apparent means to escape, because hello, his mind; how does one vacate his or her own mind?
Okay, maybe not in his mind, because mind typically meant sense of self, soul, and that could not be reshaped, at least he didn’t think so. Changed, but it was not used as any sort of reciprocal. So, then, the better terminology to use, he decided, was in his head. The lights were on, but too many people were home, he joked to himself. It didn’t help. It didn’t make him feel any bit better. Of course, the original statement he was playing off of hadn’t been that funny, either. He didn’t remember who had said it, but…
_Will you shut up! You are the worst of them!_ a voice snarled.
Sensing proximity in this place was impossible, but he knew who the voice was associated with, and of course, who the voice was referring to. Besides, the other voices were still buzzing in their chatter. If he strained to listen, which was really strange since none of this was in the physical, and the metaphysical was something he had at one time known a great deal about, so he should have felt something familiar about this, but no, it wasn’t anything he remembered feeling before, not even remotely close; of course, being surmounted by a dozen voices was definitely a brand new experience. One that he wouldn’t have stood in line for. Again, he was very close to pondering on what he had done to piss off the universe, which wasn’t something he actually believed, but was one of Jack’s favorite things to mildly tease him about. He did have to admit that thinking this way did somehow make the worst horrors in his life manageable. The weirdest shit that they encountered was apt to happen to him or Jack, more him in recent years, and he did have the worst luck. Both of those, however, he could deal with, had learned how to deal with. Now…
_Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! When your soverign tells you to shut up, you will immediately follow your sovereign’s wishes!_
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 07:21 pm (UTC)Can't wait to read more!
(I like it! How are you going to get him out of this mess?)
I think this sentence:
It wasn’t as if the others, all lost in their bickering amongst themselves--a sensation which lulled in a melodic rhythm if he tried listening to it for a time, proving to be less uncomfortable, but still very wrong, very wrong--were intentionally pressing him down.
might be split into two or three sentences.
(this is just an example, cut and pasted from your original. please, please, please know that I don't intend to re-write your work, and of course, take all of this with a liberal grain of salt...)
It wasn’t as if the others were intentionally pressing him down. They were all lost in their bickering amongst themselves. A sensation which lulled in a melodic rhythm if he tried listening to it for a time; proving to be less uncomfortable, but still very, very wrong.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 07:34 pm (UTC)Get him out? Heh. That's SG-1's and Janet's business, not mine. :) It's not the intention of my story. I want to examine what's going on in his head when he's in this prediciment (and having to deal with Martice, a right old bastard who acts very much like a Goa'uld *grins*). So yeah, a way out is not what is at stake at the moment: suffering through this mental insanity is.
Hm. Nice revision, but it loses the rhythm his stream of conscious creates. His thoughts just fly together, leading from one idea to another. Sometimes the ideas find their focus back, as the sentence you highlighted does, but in others, they don't. *L* They just continue in a ramble without cirulating. Because he can get side-tracked sometimes.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 08:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-20 08:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 07:25 pm (UTC)Lifeboat had such possibilities for fic and this works VERY well! The only thing I saw (that wasn't mentioned yet... I don't think...) is you misspelled sovereign in the last italicized portion. I know it's a typo, because it's in the same sentence spelled correctly, so... ;-D
no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 07:34 pm (UTC)Weird thing, I wrote this up before the ep aired yesterday. I didn't even know that it was to play yesterday. *L* And besides that, after I got offline from posting this, I watched my own DVD.
Thank you so much! :) When I write an added scene, I nitpick it so much. I want it to be perfect and regonizable as being canon-like. Heh. As much as I love playing with AUs, I am ever much a canon-whore. If it's canon, it better be canon. *L* At least for myself. The RP room I play in deviates quite a bit, but I try keeping Daniel as canon as I can. As much of a slasher I am, I need to come to come to terms with slash as canon. I love slash, but what I see in fanfic isn't necessarily canon; the subtext, though, very much is.
Thanks for the point out. :) I originally had it "lord" until I reviewed the transcripts and went "uh oh." So I did a hasty edit and missed one letter. *L* I equated him with a Goa'uld so he was a lord in my mind. I mean, as sovereign? I wouldn't give him any pledge. *snicker* Are you into Farscape at all? Martice kind of reminded me of Rygel.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 07:42 pm (UTC)Oh, I didn't even know it was on yesterday! :D
Thank you so much! :) When I write an added keeping Daniel as canon as I can. As much of a slasher I am, I need to come to come to terms with slash as canon. I love slash, but what I see in fanfic isn't necessarily canon; the subtext, though, very much is.
Canon ROCKS. And not just cause it's almost my last name ;-D But when a fic is canon, you can go straight from watching it to reading the story and it makes it more real (to me, anyway ;-D).
Thanks for the point out. :) I originally had it "lord" until I reviewed the transcripts and I wouldn't give him any pledge. *snicker* Are you into Farscape at all? Martice kind of reminded me of Rygel.
Oh, totally. But Rygel is more childish than Martice was (and I'm just getting back into Farscape with the Starburst Edition DVDs. They sent me Season 2 Volume 2 before Volume 1! And my Volume one is, like, FOUR WEEKS delayed! *cries*)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-21 08:13 pm (UTC)Yep! When I changed the channel to Scifi, I was all, "Hey! I saw this ep this morning!" So my mom said, "Oh, then you don't need to watch it right now, do you?" and changed the channel. *L* I did get to watch the next episode, though: "Tin Man." It's another gem from the first season. I think (we're going from my fuzzy memory here *L*) this is the first ep that hits the top of the "Weird Shit O'Meter." I mean, there were oddball things (like Jack getting copied, Jack getting really old, everybody turning cave people) but it wasn't like what happened in "Tin Man." It still hasn't been explained how one copies a consciousness. And is the consciousness, for all it is, really copied? Is this soul? What about Mini-Jack? Is he soulless? Weeeird stuff that they never address. *sighs*
Canon ROCKS. And not just cause it's almost my last name ;-D But when a fic is canon, you can go straight from watching it to reading the story and it makes it more real (to me, anyway ;-D).
Hahah. I hadn't even thought about that. That must be fun for you to pun off of. *S* Me too. I like the more real aspect. That's how I look at my rp..though I have deviated too. Like Daniel is getting some, and regularly. *L*
Oh, totally. But Rygel is more childish than Martice was (and I'm just getting back into Farscape with the Starburst Edition DVDs. They sent me Season 2 Volume 2 before Volume 1! And my Volume one is, like, FOUR WEEKS delayed! *cries*)
A LOT more childish. Rygel would be apt to throwing a hissy right away. Martice just gets vexed and broody. *snickers* Some of his lines to Janet are just great. I wonder if he was in any of the cut scenes. (Not that I heard that there were cut scenes, but I think every ep has something cut from it.)
Nice!! I don't have any of the eps, but I have seen the show on TV.
I heard that there is a new Farscape project in the works. No word on what, though. I wonder how it will involve Ben and Claudia. And I...am kind of already hoping for an eleventh season. *L*
no subject
Date: 2006-03-23 08:22 am (UTC)Daniel's definitely the only character who's head seems worth getting into (at least on SG-1). Good choice on subject matter.
Looking forward to the rest of it.
-Jake