beatrice_otter: BSG's Six with red Cylon eyes (Six)
[personal profile] beatrice_otter
Title: Five Things That Didn't Suprise Sam About Being A Cylon
Author: [personal profile] beatrice_otter 
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Spoilers: all seasons
Word Count: 772
Rating: PG


Motion.  The way he felt about motion, the way that had led him into professional sports, that was a big frakking clue in retrospect.  None of the athletes he knew (and he knew a lot of them) felt anything like his joy in the purity of the perfect move, in the physics of it as much as the physicality of it.  Joy in movement, yeah, love of the perfect play, hell yeah.  Motion itself?  He didn’t talk about it much, except sometimes right after a game when his head and body and soul were still buzzing with it and he couldn’t help himself and he wanted to find someone who really understood what it was all about.  No one ever did, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying.

So, yeah, when he found out he was a Cylon he kind of figured that was part of his Cylon-ness.  Never did get the chance to ask any of the others if they felt it, too.

When he thought about it, it felt suspiciously like what Kara sometimes described when she talked about flying.  But only when she was drunk and there was no one else around.


Kara Thrace.  That she survived, that she was crazier than ever, that she was having visions from God … none of that surprised him.  That he was still frakking obsessed with her surprised him even less, whether or not she was a Cylon.  It seemed to be a Cylon trait.  Maybe he should find a Leoben and compare notes.


Irony.  The Resistance on New Caprica had been run by Cylons, as had the kangaroo courts Zarek had set up to ferret out collaborators and traitors before handing the reigns over to Roslin.  So the universe liked to make dark jokes at their expense—he’d known that since the first Cylon attack.


Alcohol.  After he found out what he was, after the crisis with the Cylons and Kara returning was over, the absolute first thing he did was go to Joe’s to get hammered.  He was tired of thoughts running around in his head and figured the risk of blurting out that he was a Cylon before passing out was worth it.  He settled in, called for a bottle of the homemade hooch (he was not going to call it ambrosia), and shook his head over how much this was going to cost him before knocking back a swig.  It took a lot of alcohol to get him drunk, and he shook his head.  Probably some freaky Cylon thing, some super-powerful liver to filter out toxins.  So not only were they ruining his self-identity, they even made it harder for him to forget about it, if only temporarily.

He did wonder how much Saul Tigh had to drink to get as drunk as he did as often as he did.


Motion.  Flying was nothing like Pyramid, except that the perfection of motion was the same.  No, it was even better because it was intensified, purified, glorified.  His ship was an extension of himself, an extension of the universe.  Speeds were greater, turns tighter, movement in all directions unrestrained except by his will and his reflexes, the pull of gravity too negligible a force in the dark of space to be worth mentioning.  And being part of the movement of ships, planets, stars, galaxies?  He supposed he’d always been part of it, everyone was, you couldn’t help it, but now he could see it, feel it, hear it, taste it, touch it, smell it even.  This was what he was made for.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as events continued to careen around him and through him and survival was the number one priority.

That changed after they plugged him into the ship, of course.  Then he had nothing but physics, and they swallowed him whole.  But it was worth it, it was so worth it.  He was aware, dimly, that Kara mourned him, and he regretted that.  He wished he could show her—she, of all people, would truly understand.  But no, that would wash her away too, as he was being washed away, her uniqueness eroded in the seas of infinity, and he loved Kara Thrace in all her stubborn particularity to wish that fate on her.

At last they left him to his work, let him do what he was born to do.  And as he soared towards the light, he thought: God.  This universe is so beautiful.

(no subject)

Date: 2009-06-01 11:43 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
That was beautiful. The last paragraph especially. Perfect.

(no subject)

Date: 2009-06-01 11:56 pm (UTC)
amalnahurriyeh: DW: Text: Your fandom could be a little more sonic. (sonic)
From: [personal profile] amalnahurriyeh
This is beautiful. The "motion sections" are just lovely, and really capture something about Cylon-ness.

(no subject)

Date: 2009-06-02 12:34 am (UTC)
frolicndetour: Kara and Sam playing pyramid  (Pyramid Foreplay)
From: [personal profile] frolicndetour
I loved every word of this. So lovely; so Sam.

(no subject)

Date: 2009-06-02 04:22 pm (UTC)
gentlehobbit: (Default)
From: [personal profile] gentlehobbit
This was excellent. I loved this cylon-come-hybrid voice of Sam's, and how you had him progress through his changes was beautiful. I loved how you took his talk of perfection and wove it into the different pieces

And I adored his wondering how much Tigh had to drink to get drunk!

(no subject)

Date: 2009-06-03 06:40 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
This was great -- Somehow you've made it obvious Sam isn't human, and yet still kept him in character. Particularly loved the last paragraph. <3

(no subject)

Date: 2009-11-06 03:15 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] mixies
I think you have done a wonderful job in capturing Sam's 'voice'. Thanks for this beautiful fic!

(no subject)

Date: 2009-11-06 10:17 pm (UTC)
From: [personal profile] mixies
By the way, I've friended you :)


beatrice_otter: Me in red--face not shown (Default)

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