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sga_flashfic2006-11-29 09:17 pm
teaphile.livejournal.com) wrote in sga_flashfic2006-11-29 09:17 pm
Entry tags:
In Their Image - by Teaphile
Title: In Their Image
Author: Teaphile
Category: Gen
Rating: A little gross-out, maybe?
Notes: This idea came from a discussion about foot-binding. Let that be your warning.
In Their Image
Teyla was not unaccustomed to body modification. She had seen several tattoos and piercings amongst the Earth people, and Ronon of course had his mark, although she was sure he now placed more significance on his Wraith scars than on his family tattoo. Athosians didn’t practice it in any significant form, but Teyla herself kept her hair bleached as a symbol of the sacrifice of vanity to her people.
This, however... this was wrong. This was beyond anything she could have imagined and she did not lack for imagination. This was not art. This was desperation.
John still had the faintly disgusted look that had settled on his face the first moment they’d approached the city. Ronon and Rodney were wide-eyed, Rodney looking fearful for his own body. Teyla was sure her own reactions were visible as well, but the leader of this town didn’t seem to notice.
“At least we know they have... progressive medical technology,” Rodney said aside to John.
John leaned towards him and Teyla could barely hear his response: “I sure don’t want to ask for a test of it.”
The leader, Riga, evidently heard, for she smiled with thin lips and answered, “We do not expect outsiders to conform to our requirements for our own people.” She nodded, and Teyla thought for a wild moment her outsized head would fall off. “As long as you do not stay for more than a day, you will not be made to look like us.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Ronon said at full volume, and Teyla winced even though so far Riga had been nothing but generous and accepting.
“They’d have to cut you off at the knees to make you conform,” Rodney replied. “Although,” he continued, circling a finger around the top of his own head, “they could just put your hair up, stick a bald wig on you and call that part done.”
Ronon, who had been avoiding looking directly at Riga, glanced at her and immediately looked away again. To be honest, Teyla wanted to react the same way, but politeness and diplomacy – and their own need for that advanced medical technology – required that she did not.
Riga blinked her solid black eyes and managed to look even more amused without moving her lips. She waved her long fingers towards a larger building in the middle of the town and Teyla noticed a small child, a child who looked like an Athosian or an Earther, enter. “Would you like to see our medical centre?”
Rodney gulped audibly, and said, “Yes, yes we would,” before Teyla could gather a response.
They walked – slowly, to accommodate Riga’s shorter stride and delicate structure – to the medical building and entered with the swipe of a passcard. Teyla was astounded by the beauty of the building, as compared to the sheer ugliness of the people in it. She knew she was being uncharitable, but she could not understand how fear of the Wraith would lead an entire people to such extremes. She saw the child again, and Riga followed her gaze.
“Ah,” Riga said pointing in that direction. “You see, there are no genetic modifications, only cosmetic. Our children are born looking like you, and at the age of self-control are given the surgeries.”
“How many surgeries does it take,” Teyla felt a macabre compulsion to ask.
“Many, many,” Riga replied. She led them over to a beautifully-drawn diagram on the wall. “First we remove the bottom sets of ribs, and bind the legs and arms, because of course we can’t modify our musculature. The eyes are also dyed in this step. Then, later, when the skeleton is full grown, we add the skull implants and restructure the face and hands.” She ran a hand over one section of the diagram lovingly. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got, to look like our gods.”
Teyla swallowed back bile at the thought of the torture these people went through for a misguided notion, and she could see her feelings reflected in her teammates.
Rodney, who had been paying far closer attention to his scanner than was warranted, lifted his head then and asked Riga simply, “Why?” He sounded anguished, when he asked, and Teyla stepped closer to him, offering support.
“Several millennia ago our gods came to us during a culling, and they were impervious to the Wraith.” Her voice took on a loving glow. “Our ancestors decided that if we looked like our gods, we too would be impervious.”
Ronon snorted. “Did it work?”
“Yes! We have not been tormented quite so often since then.”
The choking noise was coming from John, Teyla suspected, although she could see neither him nor Ronon. She did not herself understand how the Wraith could possibly be fooled, but perhaps it was these people who were the ones fooling themselves.
Riga, smiling as widely as she had earlier, swept a thin arm towards a door. “Let me show you our wonders,” she said, leading them through an arch.
Teyla shuddered when she passed under the portrait that hung there. It looked just like an Asgard.
End
Author: Teaphile
Category: Gen
Rating: A little gross-out, maybe?
Notes: This idea came from a discussion about foot-binding. Let that be your warning.
In Their Image
Teyla was not unaccustomed to body modification. She had seen several tattoos and piercings amongst the Earth people, and Ronon of course had his mark, although she was sure he now placed more significance on his Wraith scars than on his family tattoo. Athosians didn’t practice it in any significant form, but Teyla herself kept her hair bleached as a symbol of the sacrifice of vanity to her people.
This, however... this was wrong. This was beyond anything she could have imagined and she did not lack for imagination. This was not art. This was desperation.
John still had the faintly disgusted look that had settled on his face the first moment they’d approached the city. Ronon and Rodney were wide-eyed, Rodney looking fearful for his own body. Teyla was sure her own reactions were visible as well, but the leader of this town didn’t seem to notice.
“At least we know they have... progressive medical technology,” Rodney said aside to John.
John leaned towards him and Teyla could barely hear his response: “I sure don’t want to ask for a test of it.”
The leader, Riga, evidently heard, for she smiled with thin lips and answered, “We do not expect outsiders to conform to our requirements for our own people.” She nodded, and Teyla thought for a wild moment her outsized head would fall off. “As long as you do not stay for more than a day, you will not be made to look like us.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Ronon said at full volume, and Teyla winced even though so far Riga had been nothing but generous and accepting.
“They’d have to cut you off at the knees to make you conform,” Rodney replied. “Although,” he continued, circling a finger around the top of his own head, “they could just put your hair up, stick a bald wig on you and call that part done.”
Ronon, who had been avoiding looking directly at Riga, glanced at her and immediately looked away again. To be honest, Teyla wanted to react the same way, but politeness and diplomacy – and their own need for that advanced medical technology – required that she did not.
Riga blinked her solid black eyes and managed to look even more amused without moving her lips. She waved her long fingers towards a larger building in the middle of the town and Teyla noticed a small child, a child who looked like an Athosian or an Earther, enter. “Would you like to see our medical centre?”
Rodney gulped audibly, and said, “Yes, yes we would,” before Teyla could gather a response.
They walked – slowly, to accommodate Riga’s shorter stride and delicate structure – to the medical building and entered with the swipe of a passcard. Teyla was astounded by the beauty of the building, as compared to the sheer ugliness of the people in it. She knew she was being uncharitable, but she could not understand how fear of the Wraith would lead an entire people to such extremes. She saw the child again, and Riga followed her gaze.
“Ah,” Riga said pointing in that direction. “You see, there are no genetic modifications, only cosmetic. Our children are born looking like you, and at the age of self-control are given the surgeries.”
“How many surgeries does it take,” Teyla felt a macabre compulsion to ask.
“Many, many,” Riga replied. She led them over to a beautifully-drawn diagram on the wall. “First we remove the bottom sets of ribs, and bind the legs and arms, because of course we can’t modify our musculature. The eyes are also dyed in this step. Then, later, when the skeleton is full grown, we add the skull implants and restructure the face and hands.” She ran a hand over one section of the diagram lovingly. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got, to look like our gods.”
Teyla swallowed back bile at the thought of the torture these people went through for a misguided notion, and she could see her feelings reflected in her teammates.
Rodney, who had been paying far closer attention to his scanner than was warranted, lifted his head then and asked Riga simply, “Why?” He sounded anguished, when he asked, and Teyla stepped closer to him, offering support.
“Several millennia ago our gods came to us during a culling, and they were impervious to the Wraith.” Her voice took on a loving glow. “Our ancestors decided that if we looked like our gods, we too would be impervious.”
Ronon snorted. “Did it work?”
“Yes! We have not been tormented quite so often since then.”
The choking noise was coming from John, Teyla suspected, although she could see neither him nor Ronon. She did not herself understand how the Wraith could possibly be fooled, but perhaps it was these people who were the ones fooling themselves.
Riga, smiling as widely as she had earlier, swept a thin arm towards a door. “Let me show you our wonders,” she said, leading them through an arch.
Teyla shuddered when she passed under the portrait that hung there. It looked just like an Asgard.
End
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And I love the bit about Teyla's hair - hee.
*snicker* There has to be some reason....
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Awesome writing!
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Makes me wonder if the surgical industry on that planet isn't as big as the housing industry on ours.
I had that in the back of my head the whole time I was writing. If it were a longer piece, I'd have to figure out what they've sacrificed to concentrate so much on that industry. It's interesting to consider.
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Wraith1:*blinks* Can we eat it?
Wraith2: I wouldn't.
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There is fic for you in my journal.
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Now I'm curious what *would* happen if a Wraith tried to feed on an actual Asgard.
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That is something I hadn't considered. I was thinking the Wraith had just by chance been missing them, but you make a good point.
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And now I have to go and find a way to cuddle my ribs and my properly sized head and human features.
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Thanks for reading.
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Call me strange but...
(Anonymous) 2006-11-30 02:17 am (UTC)(link)Re: Call me strange but...
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But now I'm thinking of General O'Neill getting the mission report and demanding that Thor beam him up and FIX this planet!
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When I finished reading this, I thought about the people on 'Nip/Tuck', and I thought 'the scary thing is that maybe we're not really so far off from this'.
Great story.
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Thank you for saying so.
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