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crack_van2006-06-08 09:48 am
wickedwords.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2006-06-08 09:48 am
Entry tags:
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern by Wintertime (Mature)
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: None
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
in_wintertime
Author Website: Her SGA fiction is available through Wraithbait
Why this must be read:
This is a 'what if' AU, where one slight change is made to aired canon, and the story cascades down from there. The actual mechanics of the change is done as a slow reveal, which is one of my favorite story structures. So we start with events already in progress, and have to pick up the background as the story goes along, making this part mystery and part horror, and a study in the unlikely friendship between McKay and Ford.
On Philos, the Stargate was in the center of an overgrown orchard and the event horizon cleaved four trees apart and scattered their fruit to the ground. They spent days walking in concentric circles until they emerged from the twisted boughs and knotted trunks to find only a few scattered stone structures nestled in the lowlands, looking like discarded building blocks. It was a depressing sight and so they made their primitive little camp inside the shelter of the orchard and at night, they split immense and overripe not-peaches open with the blades of their knives and feasted until the juice glazed their chins and their hands.
Aiden lay down in the bent grass, adjusting his position until the roots no longer dug into him, and stared up at the stars. He tried to find Atlantis.
McKay leaned on his elbow and jabbed a finger at the sky. “That one. The brightest.”
“You think?”
“Does it matter?”
“Probably not,” Aiden said. He took the syringe McKay handed to him and injected the night’s dosage just at the crook of his elbow, where the bruises did not fade. The momentary headiness made him blink away the glimmer of the stars and then he pushed himself to his feet. “This place has been a ghost-town for a long time. You think they knew?”
“They knew,” McKay said. “They always fucking know.”
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
Pairing: None
Author on LJ:
in_wintertimeAuthor Website: Her SGA fiction is available through Wraithbait
Why this must be read:
This is a 'what if' AU, where one slight change is made to aired canon, and the story cascades down from there. The actual mechanics of the change is done as a slow reveal, which is one of my favorite story structures. So we start with events already in progress, and have to pick up the background as the story goes along, making this part mystery and part horror, and a study in the unlikely friendship between McKay and Ford.
On Philos, the Stargate was in the center of an overgrown orchard and the event horizon cleaved four trees apart and scattered their fruit to the ground. They spent days walking in concentric circles until they emerged from the twisted boughs and knotted trunks to find only a few scattered stone structures nestled in the lowlands, looking like discarded building blocks. It was a depressing sight and so they made their primitive little camp inside the shelter of the orchard and at night, they split immense and overripe not-peaches open with the blades of their knives and feasted until the juice glazed their chins and their hands.
Aiden lay down in the bent grass, adjusting his position until the roots no longer dug into him, and stared up at the stars. He tried to find Atlantis.
McKay leaned on his elbow and jabbed a finger at the sky. “That one. The brightest.”
“You think?”
“Does it matter?”
“Probably not,” Aiden said. He took the syringe McKay handed to him and injected the night’s dosage just at the crook of his elbow, where the bruises did not fade. The momentary headiness made him blink away the glimmer of the stars and then he pushed himself to his feet. “This place has been a ghost-town for a long time. You think they knew?”
“They knew,” McKay said. “They always fucking know.”
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
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