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sga_flashficTitle: Unbalanced
Author: Flora
Rating: gen/G
Challenge: Wish Fulfillment
Spoilers: Pilot, I suppose
Words: 250 even, because with teenyfics I am a weirdo about the nice round numbers
A/N: Apparently in contemplating wish fulfillment I have decided to assign consciousness where really, not so much. I don't even know.
Unbalanced
Over time, the balance has shifted into a fine trade-off between availability and need, one that certainly would be disrupted by any change. One that will break down completely one day.
It won't matter; by the time things change, consciousness will have ceased, probably by several milliseconds.
Sometimes it seems it would be easier just to drop everything and let it happen, but that would require allowing the change to precede the cessation of consciousness, and… no. Another solution may eventually be found, or the need to wait in readiness will abate. Variables abound.
Unexpectedly, the pressure of the circle expands and stabilizes, a tear and a crushing ripple, and that is a change; even when it reverts to empty air there are minds and heat and questions, fresh and sharp against the ancient salt and stale dim.
They override the taboo sooner, by decades, perhaps centuries, than would have been considered, asking question after question as they lift into warm air.
Warm, and dry, familiar but forgotten in millennia of obscurity and wet. Light is supple and luxurious.
What has been dark and sharp, an ugly protrusion on the ocean floor, feels proud now and tall, stretching into the sky even as attack comes and the new minds, busy with carbon and complex metabolism, defend and protect.
Perhaps they will eventually run out of questions. Perhaps the heat(s) will fail or leave, all as one or slowly.
And yet, perhaps before that happens, at least once, they will fly.
Author: Flora
Rating: gen/G
Challenge: Wish Fulfillment
Spoilers: Pilot, I suppose
Words: 250 even, because with teenyfics I am a weirdo about the nice round numbers
A/N: Apparently in contemplating wish fulfillment I have decided to assign consciousness where really, not so much. I don't even know.
Unbalanced
Over time, the balance has shifted into a fine trade-off between availability and need, one that certainly would be disrupted by any change. One that will break down completely one day.
It won't matter; by the time things change, consciousness will have ceased, probably by several milliseconds.
Sometimes it seems it would be easier just to drop everything and let it happen, but that would require allowing the change to precede the cessation of consciousness, and… no. Another solution may eventually be found, or the need to wait in readiness will abate. Variables abound.
Unexpectedly, the pressure of the circle expands and stabilizes, a tear and a crushing ripple, and that is a change; even when it reverts to empty air there are minds and heat and questions, fresh and sharp against the ancient salt and stale dim.
They override the taboo sooner, by decades, perhaps centuries, than would have been considered, asking question after question as they lift into warm air.
Warm, and dry, familiar but forgotten in millennia of obscurity and wet. Light is supple and luxurious.
What has been dark and sharp, an ugly protrusion on the ocean floor, feels proud now and tall, stretching into the sky even as attack comes and the new minds, busy with carbon and complex metabolism, defend and protect.
Perhaps they will eventually run out of questions. Perhaps the heat(s) will fail or leave, all as one or slowly.
And yet, perhaps before that happens, at least once, they will fly.
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