Amnesty post: Week 11 - Limn
Nov. 6th, 2011 09:12 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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First-ever fic, but it's been bouncing around my head since the last amnesty.
Team Shadow Puppet Theater Night in Plato’s Cave
This week, the quantum mirror is showing a John and a Rodney down one of the infinite other legs of the trousers of time (with apologies to George Orwell: see fascism, jackbooted octopus of) on a New England beach. Teyla is making her excuses (Ronon walked out as soon as he realized it wasn’t the one where he writes poetry about his penis).
Sheppard, who was raised to be a gentleman, feels as if he should at least make a serious effort to make her feel like a valued guest. It avails him, as they say, naught.
“I am sorry, John,” she said, calmly. “I was hoping that this week we would see the reality in which I am a highly-regarded business woman, in hopes that I might learn something I can use to help my people.”
“Oh,” Rodney pulls a small bit of his attention away from watching other-himself watching other-John watching other-him right back. “I like that one. John gives me coffee and pastries in that one.”
“...but” she sailed on, as though no-one had spoken, “I do not feel that I can justify the evening away from my family to revisit this particular reality. I have, after all, seen you both eat sandwiches and nap.”
At that point, John may have elbowed Rodney in a sensitive spot (because really? Not. Helping.), and Rodney leapt, none-too-subtly rubbing his sensitive spot and looking equal parts awkward and only-very-slightly wounded, into the fray.
“But” and he’s clearly trying Very Hard Indeed to be smooth about this, “I’m sure your people will benefit from your exposure to other cultures.”
Teyla’s face falls into that configuration of perfect serenity with one delicately arched eyebrow which perfectly expresses what less talented faces require violent eyerolls and the international hand gesture for jerking off to achieve.
“My people,” she says gently to Rodney, heading out the door, “will call your people.”
John’s glaring at Rodney, who doesn’t even notice.
“Don’t we fuck kind of a lot in this one?” Rodney says, abstractedly, watching alter-him settle in on the couch with the cat.
Which, you know, John can just as easily be pissed off tomorrow.
Team Shadow Puppet Theater Night in Plato’s Cave
This week, the quantum mirror is showing a John and a Rodney down one of the infinite other legs of the trousers of time (with apologies to George Orwell: see fascism, jackbooted octopus of) on a New England beach. Teyla is making her excuses (Ronon walked out as soon as he realized it wasn’t the one where he writes poetry about his penis).
Sheppard, who was raised to be a gentleman, feels as if he should at least make a serious effort to make her feel like a valued guest. It avails him, as they say, naught.
“I am sorry, John,” she said, calmly. “I was hoping that this week we would see the reality in which I am a highly-regarded business woman, in hopes that I might learn something I can use to help my people.”
“Oh,” Rodney pulls a small bit of his attention away from watching other-himself watching other-John watching other-him right back. “I like that one. John gives me coffee and pastries in that one.”
“...but” she sailed on, as though no-one had spoken, “I do not feel that I can justify the evening away from my family to revisit this particular reality. I have, after all, seen you both eat sandwiches and nap.”
At that point, John may have elbowed Rodney in a sensitive spot (because really? Not. Helping.), and Rodney leapt, none-too-subtly rubbing his sensitive spot and looking equal parts awkward and only-very-slightly wounded, into the fray.
“But” and he’s clearly trying Very Hard Indeed to be smooth about this, “I’m sure your people will benefit from your exposure to other cultures.”
Teyla’s face falls into that configuration of perfect serenity with one delicately arched eyebrow which perfectly expresses what less talented faces require violent eyerolls and the international hand gesture for jerking off to achieve.
“My people,” she says gently to Rodney, heading out the door, “will call your people.”
John’s glaring at Rodney, who doesn’t even notice.
“Don’t we fuck kind of a lot in this one?” Rodney says, abstractedly, watching alter-him settle in on the couch with the cat.
Which, you know, John can just as easily be pissed off tomorrow.
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Date: 2011-11-07 02:23 am (UTC)Also, I'd love to see that reality where Ronon writes poetry about his penis. Just sayin'.
ETA: Because I cannot type at 3AM--wait, it's ONLY NINE THIRTY?? Damn you, daylight savings time...
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Date: 2011-11-07 05:32 am (UTC)I WILL PAY! I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS RIGHT AND HOLY, I WILL PAY FOR THIS FICTION TO BE WRITTEN!!!!!
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Date: 2011-11-07 03:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-07 03:15 pm (UTC)Thanks (frist).
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Date: 2011-11-07 02:31 am (UTC)Best use of Teyla's people EVAR. This is delightful!
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Date: 2011-11-07 11:38 am (UTC)Teyla strikes me as a woman with a wicked sense of humor.
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Date: 2011-11-07 03:24 am (UTC)Fun fic.... see? Now you have to do more!
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Date: 2011-11-07 11:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-07 03:41 am (UTC)I've added your author tag and the prompt tags, but I'm not clear on what others you want (John/Rodney, e.g.) can you please add?
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Date: 2011-11-07 11:34 am (UTC)I updated the tags, but I meant it to be PG (for language) and somehow got R as well, which seems like overkill but it's not letting me delete it.
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Date: 2011-11-07 06:51 pm (UTC)I wondered about the cat. :) Loved Teyla's concise expressions. And her meta. If I were Teyla and Ronon I would stage an AU coup and use John and Rodney as furniture for a story or ten in revenge.
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Date: 2011-11-08 01:48 am (UTC)Me, I heart Teyla. She handles being the designated grownup with such grace.
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Date: 2011-11-07 08:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-07 03:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-07 09:50 am (UTC)The Trousers of Time
and
the internation hand gesture for jerking off
This is such fun. And a first too? Really?
Well you must have at it and write more... please?
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Date: 2011-11-07 03:18 pm (UTC)I have to admit that the trousers of time belong to Terry Pratchett,and I suspect the international hand gesture for jerking off springs from mankind's collective unconscious (although it's possible I feel that way because I live really close to Brooklyn).
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Date: 2011-11-08 03:43 am (UTC)The story, however, is unambiguously lovely.
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Date: 2011-11-07 02:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-07 03:19 pm (UTC)*grin* back.
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Date: 2011-11-07 06:42 pm (UTC)Now I want to write/read AUs where Teyla is a kick ass business professional. Seriously, this was pretty hilarious and awesome. I'm so delighted to host your first fic ever here! More to come, I hope!
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Date: 2011-11-08 01:59 am (UTC)I like this (http://archiveofourown.org/works/163090) Teyla, with the added bonus that she has a crush on Radek, who is sixteen kinds of awesome.
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Date: 2011-11-08 12:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-08 02:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-08 10:00 pm (UTC)Ronon writing poetry about his penis *smirks*
I loved this line by Teyla:
“My people,” she says gently to Rodney, heading out the door, “will call your people.”
Also was that a Terry Pratchett reference about the "Trousers of Time"? because he uses that one a lot.
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Date: 2011-11-10 01:05 am (UTC)Actually, my kid is a Vimes girl too. We're sort of a Vimes family.
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Date: 2011-11-10 05:53 pm (UTC)I should add you to my flist!
I love all of the books, but the "Guards" series was my favorite.
I realised after I posted that you'd already commented that it was a Pratchet ref *facepalms*
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Date: 2011-11-09 01:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-10 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-10 04:18 am (UTC)I am unoriginal but I like that line. It's delivered at the perfect time.
“Don’t we fuck kind of a lot in this one?” Rodney says, abstractedly, watching alter-him settle in on the couch with the cat.
Awesome. This was... your first fic? I... wow. Major league deal!