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sg1 poke

Ralin and John

In a bow to my psychic sister and with a pardon me on my lips (for not getting permission), I thought I'd try my hand at a Ralin snippet. Her recent story Demon really struck a chord with me.

Ralin crept silently into the cargo hold on the 9th tier. It was late in the sleep cycle and yet he felt too excited ... no anxious, to sleep. Here he was 16 cycles into his life and he had no clue where he was going or how to get there. His mother drilled him in combat arts; his godfather D'Argo lectured him about honor and a warrior's code; and his aunts Noranti and Jool whispered at him constantly about how to be a man; but what was he really? Was he Sebecean? Was he this human thing that he kept hearing about; or was he nothing? He felt like something but nobody let him alone to figure out what.

Rumaging in the cases that held his dad's things, tossing leather pants, coats, tools, and books, and such over his shoulder, he suddenly came upon a squishy, multi-colored blob. He turned it over and over in his hands. His brow creased as he suddenly realized that this was the game blob that had caused all the grief in his life. Here was his father encapsulated. This John Crichton who had been deified by his mother and godfather until he couldn't stand even to hear his name. This man-god who bore him and left him all because of a stupid game. This man who's fame had caused his family to be wanted all over the galaxy. This demon who haunted his dreams as well as his mother's. God, he hated him.

Yet, he longed to meet him. He wanted to tell him face to face what dren and hezmana he had put his family through with his death and legacy of wormhole knowledge. He needed to finish off the memory of John Crichton and be done with him. Ralin wondered if the game still worked. There was only one way to find out, and he placed his hands carefully on the blob's colored nodes.

Suddenly he was transported into a fairyland of strange stick trees, yellow brick roads, and a very very tall, weirdly grotesk castle. He found himself dressed in tights, soft leather boots that reached up over his knees and a linen tunic with wide romantic sleeves and a collar-less neckline. He felt the metal breastplate with his hand and shook his head in bewilderment. As he shook his head he realized that he was also wearing some sort of metal hat or helmet. He turned towards the castle just as a man or something popped out of thin air. The being's face was covered on the right side by a metal mask but his blue eye blazed from his face.

"You were supposed to stay with the princess! This is not how the game is played. I am the Avatar and I guide you. Go back to where you are supposed to be! I banish you!"

Ralin starred at this apparition dressed as a jester complete with the three-pointed hat with its bells jangling a chorus as they beat against the creature's mask. "Who do you think I am? and Who are you?"

"I am the Avatar of the game. You are the prince and the knave. You caused the pain and you must fix it. You make things that love die. You killed and you must learn the path to redemption."

Ralin stepped back from this mad man and stated, "I'm not that guy. I'm Ralin. I am here to meet John Crichton. Do you know him?"

The avatar screamed and stamped his foot. "Yes! That man... that beast...stole my love ...stole my princess and now I am nothing. Go, enter the castle and meet your doom. Go, meet the monster who haunts this place with his sad face and longing eyes. See what it gets you."

Ralin carefully stepped around the now prostrate and weeping creature and walked into the castle.


AAHHHHH! You know I'm going to use some of this...not all cause that's not were Ralin is exactly hon. *g*