[ Kara put her head down, muscles straining as she dragged the controls over and sent the Bellerophon spinning on the Y axis. The ship screamed its dismay, energy crackling against the narrow rabbit hole down which they'd found themselves, but the sentinels just kept on coming. She jammed on the gas, and the heavy hulk of a ship roared forward, the sound of displaced air and whirring engines bouncing off every hunk of concrete and broken pipe out there, but they kept moving, and moving meant alive. For now.
As soon as they were out of it, she was the first to throw herself out of the chair and go hunting through the ship, either for the weapons platform operator or whichever poor person got in her way first. Agitation always needed its outlet somewhere, and that had just been too damn close. ]
And where were you?
----
[ Dancing is good though. Dancing in a mass of bodies, nobody really looking beyond themselves to try and identify who the people they were writhing up against were? She could do that. It was a way to detach from reality - a way that wasn't the obvious - and after a long, hard mission that was exactly what he needed, the roll and thrust, the sweat and the rhythm. This was living.
Except sometimes she didn't know what living really was, any more. ]
Yeah. [ She panted under her breath. ] That's it.
[ Man, woman, other--it didn't matter. She wasn't really looking, and didn't care. A warm body could let her forget for a little while what was real and what wasn't, a mystery her life had taken on long before she'd woken from the Dream. ]
----
[ She'd asked for some personal time in the construct. At least, that was what she called it when she went back to her apartment to mope. They all knew she was doing it, but sooner or later someone was going to break her self imposed solitude.
It was funny. So sometimes she laughed. Sometimes she looked out the window at Delphi and thought: this isn't possible, all this is gone, and caught herself thinking it. Then she thought: I'm mourning a city that was never real in the first place. And then she thought: what did we go through that hell for? Had it just been some divine game? Why hadn't everyone come from a matrix where they'd had to suffer just to live, had to question their own humanity? Why was that fair?
She always came back to the same questions, and just like at home, there were never any answers. So she'd lay on her not!bed, and stare at her not!ceiling, and think about her not!life. It was a waste of time, but it was all she had left. ]
Kara "Starbuck" Thrace -- Battlestar Galactica
[ Kara put her head down, muscles straining as she dragged the controls over and sent the Bellerophon spinning on the Y axis. The ship screamed its dismay, energy crackling against the narrow rabbit hole down which they'd found themselves, but the sentinels just kept on coming. She jammed on the gas, and the heavy hulk of a ship roared forward, the sound of displaced air and whirring engines bouncing off every hunk of concrete and broken pipe out there, but they kept moving, and moving meant alive. For now.
As soon as they were out of it, she was the first to throw herself out of the chair and go hunting through the ship, either for the weapons platform operator or whichever poor person got in her way first. Agitation always needed its outlet somewhere, and that had just been too damn close. ]
And where were you?
----
[ Dancing is good though. Dancing in a mass of bodies, nobody really looking beyond themselves to try and identify who the people they were writhing up against were? She could do that. It was a way to detach from reality - a way that wasn't the obvious - and after a long, hard mission that was exactly what he needed, the roll and thrust, the sweat and the rhythm. This was living.
Except sometimes she didn't know what living really was, any more. ]
Yeah. [ She panted under her breath. ] That's it.
[ Man, woman, other--it didn't matter. She wasn't really looking, and didn't care. A warm body could let her forget for a little while what was real and what wasn't, a mystery her life had taken on long before she'd woken from the Dream. ]
----
[ She'd asked for some personal time in the construct. At least, that was what she called it when she went back to her apartment to mope. They all knew she was doing it, but sooner or later someone was going to break her self imposed solitude.
It was funny. So sometimes she laughed. Sometimes she looked out the window at Delphi and thought: this isn't possible, all this is gone, and caught herself thinking it. Then she thought: I'm mourning a city that was never real in the first place. And then she thought: what did we go through that hell for? Had it just been some divine game? Why hadn't everyone come from a matrix where they'd had to suffer just to live, had to question their own humanity? Why was that fair?
She always came back to the same questions, and just like at home, there were never any answers. So she'd lay on her not!bed, and stare at her not!ceiling, and think about her not!life. It was a waste of time, but it was all she had left. ]