Monochrome Delirious

Happy dance

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 21:17:14 GMT

#1 Sky box seems to have been fixed- the guy came this afternoon. Thought it'd solve the problem by swapping old box for snazzy new one. Only once he did that although his gizmo said there was a strong signal- the set up page said unlocked and no signal. He tried 2 other boxes but now he wasn't even getting a picture! Yet my box was working when he arrived. Went up the ladder to the dish and replaced some widget up there and plugged my old box in again and voila- signal okay. It sure had him confused - said he'd never had that before- the signal tester saying signal and yet no picture on the screen. So, because it turned it to be a dish problem I didn't get a new box! Never mind- I'll upgrade to Sky+ next year before Central goes digital and then I'll get an HD TV as well- after all I've only had this TV since 1997...

#2 more tweaking at the osteopath- hip loads better now but still some tense muscles in there. Also put the TENS machine pads round my old ACL knee, which got bruised the other day when I went splat, and has been going scroopy click when going upstairs for several weeks now.

#3 Boughted myself a Dell Inspiron 545 desktop Windows 7 computer online tonight! I upped some of the processor and memory and their special offer was to upgrade the HD to 640GB- swoon! I think my current 2002 vintage pooter has 80GB....and I upgraded that 18 months ago from the original 20GB...*dies of laughter*

RL tweaking me for the last 2 weeks....

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 19:15:17 GMT

Things have been odd for the last week or two
#1 I broke a tooth and had to wait a week and a half to get it fixed (today- so far, so good).
#2 SKY box not getting signal for over 12 hours or so, then whilst waiting for engineer to call and tell me when they're coming- it sorts itself out and is absolutely fine all weekend. Naturally tonight when I get home it's gone again for 6 hours, then back again. Called for engineer again.
#3 Hip pain then it goes over a day or so. Then last Sunday was in agony all day and limped to work on the Monday and then the doctors, got pain pills, then it subsides- sciatica? Osteopath on Friday pokes and prods and get a massage and then the TENS machine- says a muscle spasm. At least I am walking properly now.
#4 temperature sensor on central heating boiler on the fritz- as in, sometimes hot water or luke warm or cold! Now fixed via British Gas engineer.
#5 due to no reliable water/heating- had to cancel BF's visit over the weekend.

Good news- off to Aged P's this weekend and then the Steampunk exhibition in Oxford www.steampunkmuseumexhibition.blogspot.com/- Wol's staying over so we can visit a few other Museums- Ashmolean and the Pitt Rivers and maybe a walking tour- assuming none of my limbs fall off in the mean time!

ETA 2nd Dec
#2 a- SKY engineer due Friday!
#6 slipped in the dark in some mud tonight on my way to a work thing at 7pm- skinned palms and knees-I bruise easily, so that'll be fun then....

Pooter not ded!

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 17:23:40 GMT

Okay, so I am in Halifax for the weekend on a bookbinding workshop and I check in with my PC repair shop- all is not lost! It is as we thought- the power supply. But being an e-machines case the new power supply unit is slightly larger. So I will need to buy a new outer case. Makes me feel alot better about it all. Sounds fine to me. But I still think that I will research new computers with W7....
I can relax now, after the slog up the M1 North! Off for some food now.

Pooter R.I.P?

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 07:59:51 GMT

*whimpers* beloved pooter died last night at 21.20...monitor just went black. Okay it's done that once or twice before- but not for ages-, but after switching off at the plug and re-booting it started up fine. Not last night. Nada, zip, zero. The socket works, cos the monitor stand by light is on and the printer works.

So, after flailing around a bit like medium sized, glasses wearing flailing thing- I did what I usually do and called Brother #1 and between us we hope it's either the power supply or the motherboard. Both of which should be fixable, bearing in mind the pooter is 2002 vintage. Strange, because Brother #2 was just talking to me last Friday about the external drive for huge backup purposes he's bought, and I thought then, yeah, must get me one of those. I just hadn't got round to it. Bugger.

So, I can access LJ and FF.net at work or local library. But how do I access email as I'm not on webmail?

And if the pooter's dead...I'll have to buy a new one....and hope I can retreive stuff off the HD...I'm talking pics, my website and 100's of fics here, people.

I need a really strong cup of tea!

Holiday!

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 18:33:57 GMT

Dear Internetz and flist,

I am going on holiday to Nova Scotia for 2 weeks...can hardly wait, will be busy packing etc Friday night. Staying pre and post flight from Heathrow at Aged P's, so will be without email/Net 20 June to 5th July...eeeek how will I cope?? Looking forward to all those wonderful ShepWhumps, Mag7 etc when I get back.

Jack and Sara Ficathon!

Sat, 16 May 2009 11:26:58 GMT

jack_sara are having themselves a Ficathon. Prompts are now open for choosing. Deadline is 1st July. More details here http://community.livejournal.com/jack_sara/

OMG- fic writing again! Jackfic! :::dance of squee::

Sentinel fic "The Voice"- Gen.

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 20:45:36 GMT

Title: The Voice

Status: Dues for April 2009

Spoilers: Sentinel Too 1& 2

Season: 3/4

Summary: Jim has time to reflect on Sandburg’s guiding influence over him-1,096 words

Jim remembered the voice had a seductive tone to it, it didn’t wheedle or whine- it kept him focused- that and the light pressure of a hand on his back- the warmth seeping through jacket and shirt. It could have looked wrong but didn’t, not in this thin blue line setting, and he never gave it much thought at the time. Many a partner just gave a look or clasped a manly grip for encouragement, understanding and the ever present “I’ve got your back, man”. A softly murmured “Jim?” had brought him back to the crime scene and what was filtering through his senses. This voice anchored him and he had never expected that.

He had never had a partner that talked so much- about any and every thing. There was always a funny story except when Sandburg was fretting over something. On those occasions if it got bad enough for Jim to notice, he would carefully crack Blair’s veneer and help him sort it out if he could. But Jim knew he was no good at that sort of thing in the quietness of the Loft. Jim was more used to the hard won camaraderie of the Ranger Units in full battle rattle, facing down gangs in Cascade or the dream like intensity of his time with the Chopec. What Jim realised six months in, was that he liked Sandburg’s off the wall ideas bouncing off his throwback skull- which incidentally had never stopped him from solving crime before Sandburg showed up. He liked talking with Blair about cases, he hadn’t noticed how separate he’d become from the general hubbub of the Major Crimes bull-pen, with only Simon in his orbit

Rambling stream of consciousness tirades of cranky anthropologists were entirely a different animal- pun intended. But he learned this was Blair’s way and as left field as it was- it worked-most of the time. And if nothing else in Ellison’s thirty plus years of existence- he’d learned to adapt. Score one for Burton.

Jim knew how to be angry- sometimes he felt like he’d been angry all his life- quick and hot, slow to cool but strong as tempered steel. It was difficult to hear the voice then. Sometimes he deserved Sandburg’s anger and he hated that- the way it strained and stretched everything between them. Sometimes it was hard, working and living with his Guide. It took the Alex Barnes debacle to really make him see that he couldn’t live without him. That had scared him more than the drowning- which had been the worst thing he’d suffered since losing him men in the ‘chopper back in Peru.

Jim was not by nature a talkative man but it didn’t make him as much an emotional cripple as Sandburg joked he was. As he had worked on Blair’s body at the fountain at Hargrove Hall he had talked- desperately. Come on. Sandburg! Breathe, damn it! This can't be happening. Come on, Sandburg. This isn't over. Forcing his own breath and life force into Blair’s still body, not giving up when Simon and the EMT’s had. He couldn’t bear the silence if this didn’t work. Blood thundered in his ears as he carried on CPR and reeling from Incacha’s idea to use the power of his animal spirit – that when Blair choked and spit up water, Jim almost passed out with relief.

Alex Barnes had distorted things- Sandburg hadn’t talked to him about another Sentinel until it was almost too late and the truth seeped out liked some dirty sleazy secret. Jim wasn’t listening to things Blair wasn’t saying- being half distracted by the mental push and pull static that Alex’s presence generated- seeing things and emptying the Loft and pushing his Guide away. Throughout it all he had ignored his Guide’s voice, had become jealous of Sandburg helping another Sentinel. His rational mind ‘forgot’ that that’s what Blair did- he helped, he worked things out because he liked puzzles and fashioning solutions. Blair in his excitement had also overlooked the consequences of the baser nature of two Sentinels in one city.

Finally they had got through it, Chopec bath rituals at the Temple included, Megan now suspected his Sentinel abilities and he’d questioned his most basic trust in Sandburg and had been unable to control himself around Alex. He’d seen the darkness in his life and been made to see the light within and focus on what being a Sentinel really meant.

Sandburg’s near death experience in the fountain and rushed trip to Sierra Verde had exhausted him despite initial appearances that he was healthy and fine. But Jim had heard the gradual build up of a chest infection leading to bronchitis and now no voice. Jim wasn’t going to lose him again, not if he could help it. When he most wanted the reassurance of Blair’s voice to anchor him- it wasn’t there and he missed it. Jim wanted to say he was sorry about the way he’d treated Sandburg. He hoped it wasn’t too late, for once Jim wanted to talk and for Sandburg to listen.

At this precise moment Blair couldn’t talk back which was both good and bad, but mostly bad. Jim showed by his actions that he wanted him to stay in the Loft and continue working with him, but mostly just by being a good friend. He talked, and took personal time to look after Blair as he coughed and wheezed. If Blair had been able to talk, Jim was sure that the moment he went out for groceries he’d be back at the university teaching. Jim understood that that was how Sandburg was, but he made sure that Blair took sick time for himself for once and slept and healed properly. So Jim fed and watered his Guide, propped him up on the couch and left the National Geographic channel on until he fell asleep. When he saw a bright idea light up the tired face he fetched his notebook and pen and then picked it up when it fell out of tired sleep lax fingers. And it was Jim who read to him in the dark long nights early on in his illness when Blair was locked in nightmares of drowning, confusion and loss. The tightness of his chest and coughing making him scared to sleep and too exhausted to read to himself.

Jim carried on being the gentle hum in Sandburg’s background until he got the shape and power of his voice back. It would be worth the wait- anything to do with Sandburg was.

END

Ultravox, Nottingham 21st April - the 80's are back!

Thu, 23 Apr 2009 20:38:15 GMT

Midge Ure on stage

Not many groups open up with an instrumental -Astradyne, but Ultravox did. That only goes to reinstate their unique style- more Kraftwerk than New Romantics despite their brief sideways collusion with Visage. I can't believe it's been over 20 years since they last went on tour. This will be the third time I've seen them and it brought back happy memories of being a student in Newcastle in the mid/late 1980's. I had to laugh- no-one in the audience was under 40, but the place was packed out. They played many of the hits- Visions in blue, Rage in Eden, Reap the wild wind etc. They interspersed lively numbers- We stand alone- with slower more sombre songs- I remember (death in the afternoon), Your name (has slipped my mind again) and Lament. The live version of Mr X was mesmerising and Vienna was just as good as it was 30 years ago. Things livened up again with One small Day , and All stood still and how strange that the apocalyptic Dancing with tears in my eyes gets people moving. After a few minutes break and the audience demanding a return they came back with absolutely stonking versions of Sleepwalk and The Voice with the extra kodo- like drumming at the end. Wonderful stuff. And yes, I bought the T Shirt and concert programme...

I see that Depeche Mode are on tour in Europe but hit Birmingham UK in December ...hmmm..... Tears For Fears (Curt Smith) only seems to be playing in the USA probably because he lives there now. Simple MInds uk tour have OMD as their special guests...seriously thinking about this one as well.....oh who needs to buy Christmas presents!

Isis Awards 2008

Mon, 16 Mar 2009 23:10:26 GMT

I put up a few Jack/Sara SG1 fics at Isis (www.isisawards.net ) a few months ago and then forgot about it. I finally went back and looked- and what do you know- I won something! Tied first place and second. No idea of the kind of voting numbers but squee anyway...Jack/Sara is a small 'ship category (part of the point of Isis..).

Winners 2008

Jack O'Neill/Sara O'Neill

Other Category

1st place - TIE: Something Old by Moonshayde

1st place - TIE: Black isn't a colour, it's the absence of light by Roo

2nd place: Keeping the home fires burning by Roo

WIP meme- 4 fandoms

Mon, 16 Mar 2009 22:41:01 GMT

snurched from alipeeps

Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as you want to pick). No context, no explanations.

SGA Shepfic x 1
Where the hell is he and which way should he go? Which way is safe? He staggers off anyway desperate to keep moving and quieten the noise in his head. Not safe. Run. Hide. Go. Don't go home. Hide.

SG1- Jackfic x 7

The thing about the blindfold was that you never knew from what direction the next blow would fall although sometimes he could sense the warmth of breath or a body close to him.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror and didn’t like what he saw.-the man in the mirror was scared.

“Yes sir. Just peachy. A little dinner and conversation followed by a trip to the local waterworks. Fine- General- just fine,” O’Neill replied squelching his way out of the Gate room handing his vest and weapon to the waiting SF's.

The General felt something else was going on here, the Colonel was wound up like a tightly coiled spring and it was sapping his energy.

Feverish and in pain, he was not a happy camper. He would pick up by morning. He just didn’t know it yet. Janet inspected the wound again, making Jack fling an arm out in response.

“Morning squirt,” he said as he pulled the curtains open with one hand. Charlie just gurgled and butted against his t shirt, one cheek red with teething.

Anyway, so he was about to set off for Antarctica. Again. Like it had worked out so well for him the other times…what with the nearly dying and all.

Mag 7-Chris Larabee fic x 4
He felt out of balance, teetering on the edge of something unnamed, lurking beyond reach.

Chris’ eyes slid shut, lingering illness tugging his bones, but he nodded once before his breath slowly eased into deep slumber, knowing his friends were there for him.

“You’ve got flour on your nose.” he murmured, trying to halt her nervousness at his leaving, her worry that she wasn’t a perfect cook and one hundred other things he could never guess at

"You don’t know what you're asking me to do- it isn't going to be pretty. They’ll never forgive me for this."

The Sentinel- Jim Ellison fic x 1

“Sandburg, I can hear your brain working. Give it a rest will you.”

Okay so this entailed delving into very old fic on my pooter- as in 4 years old! I would love to finish some of these fics...

Mumblings from the corner...

Wed, 25 Feb 2009 21:58:38 GMT

The Shep Whump30 is not happening at present- I have the remaining words on sheets of paper with balloons and lines and scribbles coming from them in a creative sort of way--but actually writing the darn stuff <sighs>... insanely busy at work, away last weekend at Redemption con '09 in Coventry (Bab5, Dr Who, Blake's 7 and other cult media/fan loadsa fun), other things I do getting in the way- committee meeting tomorrow night ( so I also have to do the agenda and write up the minutes), away up North for Quarto bookarts meet in Sunderland on Saturday- that's at least a 14 hour round trip..(by train). So maybe I'll get something done on the train ( yay train!fic) but I'm more than likely to be asleep as I set off at 0611...Sunday I really should be doing some stuff for an exhibition, next weekend up at the boyf's in KS...

Obviously I am just not organised enough to set the time aside for it- it doesn't help that I stare at the word and can't decide which way to go with it for fic and whumpage...

I think I spend far too much time reading other people's fic than writing my own...

On the phone/broadband provider front- it turns out my email/website etc will stay exactly the same it's just the provider names and their website that will change to Pipex....so no need to rush around changeing everything thank goodness.

Shep Whump Day 17- Hidden

Wed, 04 Feb 2009 00:09:48 GMT

1.9 Home- emotional, minor ill whump. Teyla POV

Teyla watched from a distance as Major Sheppard chatted with some Marines in the corridor. He was out of uniform- off duty- but still aware of what was going on in the city. She was right to trust him back on Athos, he still looked at her as if she was a person worth listening to, even though she now knows that in his society, authority figures were mostly male. On their recent mission though, she had to rely on her new allies when they thought that they had returned to their home world- Earth. She had been confused by many of the things she had seen there. Most of all she could not imagine a world untainted by the Wraith.

Sheppard continued on his journey ahead of her, a book and a sandwich in one hand and a bottle of water swinging between the fingers of the other hand. He seemed relaxed, but she wondered. He was very good at putting on a grinning, charming face when really there were intense emotions and feelings hidden behind the smile. He pretended to not know things when plainly he had many skills- McKay and his maths for example- the Major was good with numbers. She knew how good a pilot he was from their many excursions, and from things she had overheard in the mess hall she gathered that there was still some lively debate about some mark on his military record. She had also seen him patch up wounds and injuries very efficiently like he done it many times before- Ford was not as experienced. Sheppard was able to intuit many things from interacting with the Puddle- jumpers and with Atlantis.

Their last mission to “earth” proved false and the Major had been the only one to notice that it was all a figment of their imagination. She remembered the perfect dwelling he seemed to have and the nice friends that visited- until he said they were dead, that he’d seen them die, that there’d been barely enough for a proper funeral. That was when she saw another side to John- the restrained fury and hurt as he confronted his ‘dead’ friends and the entity that trapped them

She let him be, not wishing to disturb his time off. Since their return from M5S-224 she wondered why he had thought of the apartment in the false reality and not of his family home or members of his family. In fact, now she thought about it he had not mentioned them at all in the time she had known him. And she knew he would not like it if she asked. Just when she thought she understood him, something else raised another question.

A few hours later she was paged by Dr Beckett.

“D’ya know where the Major is, love?”

“I saw in him several hours ago- he was fine. Is something the matter?”

“Aye, the tablets we were given for the Flavian malaria bites seem to be having a reaction with some of the ATA gene therapy soldiers that were on that rescue mission.”

“John was with them and you think…”

“Yes if they’re feeling poorly now, I’m worried about the Major’s natural gene. He’s not answering his radio.”

“What about the LSD, have you asked Rodney?”

“Rodney says he’s not showing up but we know no Puddle-jumpers have left the city.”

She suggested that they search the piers or his favourite balcony. By the time she had negative reports from those locations the Doctor had joined her.

“This is the Jumper bay- but none of them are out.” Beckett protested, slightly winded from lugging his medical bag.

“I know, but you know how much he likes to fly and he does come here to sit in his favourite ship.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Beckett said as the bay door opened and they looked in at nothing.

“I happened to be passing his quarters when Dr Zelenka gave him a book he’d found there when they were doing maintenance. Sheppard did not make much of it, in fact he side stepped it by asking the Doctor if he could fit in with the maintenance rota.”

“You think he’s….OW!” Beckett collided with the outside of an invisible Jumper. He banged on the hull.

“Major Sheppard? Major! Stop hiding and come out lad. I just need to check you’re okay.”

Just when they were ready to bang on the ship again, it re-materialised and the ramp slowly lowered open to reveal a sleep rumpled, slightly sweaty, unsteady Major Sheppard.

“Hey guys,” he croaked as Beckett grabbed one arm and led him back to a seat in the Jumper and began taking vitals and radioing for a med team to take him to the infirmary.

Some minutes later Teyla followed the gurney with a feverish Major Sheppard, she put his book on the side locker where he could see it. She still wasn’t sure if he just liked the Jumpers and his ability to control them, or if he was hiding from someone in particular, people in general or just looking for a bit of peace and quiet away from the incessant calls on the radio. For all his commanding presence in battle and on missions, he could go very quiet and fade into the background when he felt like it.

889 words

Meme- favourite poem

Tue, 03 Feb 2009 21:25:48 GMT

There is a meme making the rounds - post your favourite poem when you see someone else post theirs- seen on alipeeps page a while back and on sheafrotherdon's today.

The Listeners by Walter de la Mare

‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;

And his horse in the silence champed the grasses

Of the forest’s ferny floor:

And a bird flew up out of the turret,

Above the Traveller’s head:

And he smote upon the door again a second time;

‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.

But no one descended to the Traveller;

No head from the leaf-fringed sill

Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,

Where he stood perplexed and still.

But only a host of phantom listeners

That dwelt in the lone house then

Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight

To that voice from the world of men:

Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,

That goes down to the empty hall,

Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken

By the lonely Traveller’s call.

And he felt in his heart their strangeness,

Their stillness answering his cry,

While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,

’Neath the starred and leafy sky;

For he suddenly smote on the door, even

Louder, and lifted his head:—

‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,

That I kept my word,’ he said.

Never the least stir made the listeners,

Though every word he spake

Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house

From the one man left awake:

Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,

And the sound of iron on stone,

And how the silence surged softly backward,

When the plunging hoofs were gone.

Shep Whump Day 16 - Free

Tue, 27 Jan 2009 23:44:25 GMT

They were never going to be free. It was going to go on forever, someday in the future someone would uncover their remains and find them like this, individually sat on chairs .At least they would all be together. It’s how they would want to be remembered.

Sheppard glanced at Rodney who was drumming the fingers of one hand against the side of his chair. His laptop had been forcibly removed and he was pining for crying out loud. He didn’t know he was doing it; Sheppard shifted a foot and nudged him before whispering “Stop it!” McKay just looked incredulously at him and nodded at Sheppard’s other leg which was silently tapping on the floor. Sheppard smirked back. A small noise off to his left and Teyla was frowning at them both. “What?” he mouthed. She shook her head as if to say “Men!” Ronon sat and cracked his knuckles not looking at their jailer.

Sheppard slouched and leaned back in his chair, two legs on the ground, the back tipped against the wall. Ronon looked up and grinned and shot out a long leg that connected with the chair. With a muffled yelp and sliding thud Sheppard landed all legs and chair. “Ow!”

There was silence before Woolsey walked over and looked down at the crumpled Colonel and back at the rest of the fidgety members of SGA-1. He found it hard to believe that they were the First Contact team- the ones everybody talked about ad nausea since he was appointed over Colonel Carter. He sighed; it was no use- some people just didn’t appreciate the wonders of PowerPoint presentations….

273 Words- okay..um... slightly crack-y fic?...

Shep Whump Day 15 - Storm (half way!)

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 22:24:45 GMT

2.8 Conversion

His arm hurts like hell as he gazes at the blood running down it from the puncture wounds. Ellia lies dead on the ground; he turns and follows Ronon through the forest. Soon enough they’re back in Atlantis, Beckett forcing him onto a gurney. His first hint that something’s screwy is that he can’t feel the antiseptic swab over the wound, which then isn’t there.

He goes running with Ronon an hour or so later and he feels…absolutely fine, in fact he feels so good he could keep running forever. He ends up ditching Ronon and carrying on.

He goes to his regular bantos class with Teyla. After they’ve warmed up and gone a round or two, he feels like he could do this with one hand tied behind his back. So he discards one stick and tucks his arm behind him. He feels strong; he can see every shift and movement of muscles in her face and body telegraphing her every intent. He blocks with lightening speed. He can smell everything- her sweat, her lightly perfumed body oil, the bantos sticks…and feel the slide of the clothes on his body.

“You can call me John when we’re off the clock,” he says as his brain whites out and he wants…

He has to taste as well; he drops the stick, grabs her face and kisses her until she breaks his hold.

And he’s back as himself, not knowing quite what just happened and stumbles off to Beckett before he does anything else stupid.

251 words- More of a brain storm perhaps…:-)

Shep Whump Day 14 - Choices

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 15:17:36 GMT

1.1 & 1.2 Rising tag- emotional whump.

You make choices every single day, from the moment your open you eyes to when you sleep at night- that is if you sleep at night, Sheppard mused staring out at the ocean.

He didn’t know what time it was – just that it was very late or early and as long as he didn’t get called to some emergency he didn’t care. He needed some time to decompress and get his head straight. He’d fallen asleep at his desk, slumped over his laptop trying to figure out rotas and a do-able list of search and tagging the city. He’d startled awake by the never ending nightmare of Colonel Sumner being fed on by the Queen Wraith and the begging look in his eyes seen through the scope on his P90. It was the sound of the shot that always woke him.. He shivered and wriggled into the corner of the balcony, trying to get comfortable. The cool breeze and sound of the sea was soothing. It’d been an unbelievable few days.

If he hadn’t killed the Queen, the Wraith would be dormant, but they’d still know about new people in the galaxy. If he hadn’t killed Sumner she might have got more information from him- and it looked one nasty way to die so he’d done the merciful thing. If he hadn’t killed the Queen he could be dead and everyone he’d brought on the rescue mission. He’d had to fight with Dr Weir about that too, she seen his file, that he bucked orders. The Queen had tried the mind meld with him and he’d been zapped by something and he still had one hell of a headache 24 hours later.

He had to attempt a rescue of his superior officer and the culled Athosians. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. Sumner was dead, while a hive of Wraith were awake and knew that a planet called Earth existed- more food.

If they’d never come to the Pegasus galaxy would the Wraith have found the Athosians anyway? Probably from what Teyla had said. Had they somehow triggered the culling? He scrubbed his face in the cold dawn air. Hard to know without any evidence.

And for trading one dead end existence to one of space vampires and a city that talked to him, he’d flipped a coin. He’d been offered a choice- come to the Pegasus galaxy because he had some rare gene or stay in his boring career ending taxi job. It had been a no-brainer really but he flipped anyway- then ignored the result. People made choices everyday, and then had to live with them for better or worse.

443 words

Meme - what have you watched on TV?

Sat, 24 Jan 2009 21:24:14 GMT

Borrowed from alipeeps. Who snurched from wraithfodder. And yes, I've watched way too much t.v, like that's a surprise. Many of the shows on the list are American and from over 35 years ago- so there are some I've never heard of let alone seen here in the UK...I added some to the list.

Here's how it works: Bold all of the following TV shows which you’ve ever seen 3 or more episodes of in your lifetime. Bold and Italicize a show if you’re positive you’ve seen every episode of it. If you want, add up to 3 additional shows (keep the list in alphabetical order).*

24
227
7th Heaven
A Different World
Adam-12
Adderly
Aeon Flux
ALF
Alfred Hitchcock Presents
Alias
Allo Allo
American Idol/Pop Idol/Canadian Idol/Australian Idol
America’s Next Top Model/Germany’s Next Top Model
Angel
Are You Afraid of the Dark?
Arrested Development
Baa Baa Black Sheep
Babylon 5
Babylon 5: Crusade
Barnaby Jones
Battlestar Galactica (the old one)
Battlestar Galactica (the new one)
Baywatch
Beavis & Butthead
Beverly Hills 90210
Bewitched
Bionic Woman
Blackadder
Bonanza
Bones
Bosom Buddies
Boston Legal
Boy Meets World
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Bug Juice
Captain Planet
Carnivale
Chappelle’s Show
Charlie’s Angels
Charlie Jade*
Charmed
Cheers
Columbo
Commander in Chief
Coupling
Cowboy Bebop
Crossing Jordan
CSI
CSI: Miami
CSI: NY
Curb Your Enthusiasm
Dallas
Dancing with the Stars
Danny Phantom
Dark Angel
Dark Skies
Davinci’s Inquest
Dawson’s Creek
Dead Like Me
Deadliest Catch
Deadwood
Degrassi: The Next Generation
Designing Women
Desperate Housewives
Dharma & Greg
Different Strokes
Dirty Jobs
Doctor Who (new Who)
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Shep Whump Day - 13 Dark

Fri, 23 Jan 2009 23:56:28 GMT

3.18 Submersion tag

Sheppard’s holding it together for as long as he can, but he’s pretty freaked out. Teyla’s bright idea of connecting with her “inner” self to see if there’s a Wraith on board, when all Rodney’s scanners said no - hasn’t been one of her best. Especially when it then high jacked her brain and body and ran amok. A Wraith Queen swimming to the underwater drilling platform wasn’t quite what they were expecting from the recon. He has the added headache that Elizabeth is in the group. Lights go out, force fields go up, codes are scrambled and they lose some of McKay’s scientists to the Queen- it’s one big crappy mess.

He feels awful-the combination of the mind control, getting knocked out by the water and underwater walk in suits have taken their toll. Screw his high pain threshold; he was begging Beckett for pills when the rescue jumper arrived. In the meantime he was curled up on one of the bunks like Teyla and Ronon . Despite his thumping head he manages to fall asleep.

0o0o0o0

“Colonel, wake up.”

The pressure in his head and searing pain make his fingers slip off the trigger and drop his rifle. He doesn’t want to, but she made him. He tries so hard to break her hold, his brain stuttering trying to remember songs, riddles or pi to 15 decimal places.

Get out of my head.

But she just digs deeper, forcing him to kneel like some damn slave.

You are *so* dead for that and killing Rodney’s geeks.

Sweat drips down his face and the back of his neck. He can’t speak, but he wants to. She runs a finger down his face and he shudders at the touch, he can’t move but he wants to.

Hands gently feel round his head for bumps, and he can’t get his eyes to open, so he groans instead because everything is so much effort.

“What was that Colonel? Come on wake up now,” says a vaguely familiar accent.

He mutters “Carson,” but it doesn’t come out right and that scares him into finally cracking his eyes open. It’s still dark and he doesn’t understand and tries to move a hand up to his face. “Where..?” he slurs.

“There you are,” says the voice “I’m sorry this’ll be a wee bit painful, penlight in your eyes.” He waits and it’s still dark. He swallows thickly against the nausea churning in his gut.

“Hmmm,”

“What? WHAT!” says Rodney from somewhere in the room or wherever it is they are.

“Colonel, can you see me?"

He put a shaky hand up to his face and feels his eyes are open. Oh God.

“No. Dark.”

There is the sound of muted breaths being stilled and his head finally explodes into a fizzing, pulsing thing. Someone screams, it may have been him. He sits up and the movement makes him vomit helplessly. It’s still dark, everything hurts and he’s scared, choking. There’s a pressure on his arm and agonisingly slowly it all fades into nothingness.

0o0o0o0

He surfaces like someone who’s swum under the full length of the pool, hearing’s a little fuzzy but he’s back in the real world at last. The heart monitor picks up his worry that it’s dark and he doesn’t know if it’s still all him or night time. A chair scrapes nearby.

“Sheppard?”

He jerks in surprise and coughs, his hands fluttering on the blanket. He gathers his sensations and knows he’s back on Atlantis. M’Okay he soothes the city and he guesses she nudges the lights up a notch because this time he can tell the difference. Thank God, he’s not grounded.

“Yeah, “ he drawls dry throated and opens his eyes to see Rodney peering at him over his laptop and Beckett standing on the other side of the bed. “Hey,”

“You can see us now Colonel?” Beckett checks, wielding his trusty penlight again. And he nods blinking away the flashes.

“W’happened to me?” he asks as Beckett hands him a plastic beaker of water with a straw in it.

“You had an episode of temporary blindness.”

“Gonna happen again, doc?” once again the heart monitor betrays his anxiety.

“I don’t think so. This is a result of a combination of – I’m guessing- the Queen mind control, mild concussion form being knocked out and the stress of the underwater walk in those suits. It set up a basilar type migraine. Nothing nasty showed up in the CT or other scans, I can rule out the possibility of further seizures. But we’ll monitor it anyway. Plenty of rest, some food and you’ll be fine.”

“Okay, rest I can do,” he agreed drowsily, snuggling back into the bed and Atlantis turned the lights down for him until it was dark, but this time he didn’t mind.

803 Words- okay this was another one that kinda growed…

Shep Whump Day 12 - Broken

Wed, 21 Jan 2009 22:01:34 GMT

“You will tell me how to make this work! Now!”

“Never!” he pulled scattered thoughts together and kept thinking offoffoff at the Ancient doodad in Big Ugly’s hand. They were trying to break him, but it wasn’t going to work. He could hold out for awhile yet -plenty of time for his team to find him.

His captor gestured and Sheppard felt Guards 1 and 2 pull him backwards and fasten his manacled legs to chains in the floor. They untied his arms and Big Ugly stood in front of him and pressed a very sharp knife to his throat so he didn’t dare make a move. His wrists were attached to chains hanging from the ceiling. His flinching gained him a cut and the blood ran down his bared chest. Ugly removed the knife and taunted him. Sheppard head butted him in retaliation. Ugly staggered back yelling and Guard 1 or 2 clocked him and he didn’t see it coming. Out like the proverbial light.

When he came to, thanks to the freezing water Ugly threw over him, the whole of the left side of his face throbbed and burned hotly with bruised and split tissue. He hawked and spat out blood, the motion made his head throb nastily. He ran his tongue round the inside of his mouth. Either he’d bitten the inside of his cheek or he’d bust some teeth. Or maybe both. Well it didn’t look as if he was going to have steak and potatoes to eat anytime soon anyway. Come to think of it did Atlantis even have a dentist?

266 words

Shep Whump Day 11 - Snow

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 23:42:20 GMT

Sheppard looked around at the bright white snow and ultra blue sky, what a difference from yesterday. He’d left McKay with a fire in a cave some distance back. He didn’t like to separate but he’d got no choice. McKay had a mild concussion and wrenched knee from falling into a snow covered hole. That had slowed them up a great deal and they got caught in a fast moving weather front that interfered with their radios. The cold air turned icy and then it started to snow. And kept on snowing. Both of them had experience with snow, but they had no cold weather gear. After several hours the made it to the Gate, but it wouldn’t work. Sheppard had to dig out the DHD and get in the guts of the thing with Rodney lying next to him trying to direct him.

“It’s no use,” he shouted at McKay over the wind and pelting ice. “This is impossible. We need shelter.”

“No, we have to go home.. I can..”

“No, we’re gonna die. We have to go back. I saw a cave..”

“I can’t walk any more…I can fix this….” insisted McKay, but his face was pinched with cold and pain.

“C’mon it’s not far I promise. Lean on me. It’ll be alright.”

It was a struggle but they made it. McKay collapsed panting onto the rough floor, nervously eyeing up the back of the cave for predators. There were some bones but nothing recent. Sheppard had his flint and moss tin and managed to scrounge up a bit of fire, and they both had space blankets. The night was rough, McKay slept with the help of painkillers but Sheppard kept watch.

Come morning McKay could hardly move, so Sheppard opted to go back to the Gate hoping the improved weather had stopped interfering with it and bring back help. It was only a mile or two.

The snarl was all the warning he got before a large furred animal leapt onto him, pushing him face first into the deep snow. He groped behind him with his free left hand searching for his knife and swung it round and into the belly of the beast or so he hoped. The paw lifted and there was a furious snarl. He surged up trying to get his P90 into position but a meaty paw swiped him, raking ultra sharp claws down his whole right side. He spun sideways into a crumpled heap, fingers slipping on his gun and the large snow leopard-like cat leapt at him aiming for his throat. He brought the gun up and filled it with bullets, blood running down his shaking arm. He had to ease himself from under its dead weight.

He lay panting from the adrenaline rush and then started shaking with the cold and shock. Rodney would have heard the bullets and might be trying to walk. He had to get help for himself as well now. He fumbled in the vest for bandages, but they were stopgaps at best. He rolled over and made it to his knees, one good hand supporting him. Carefully he stood up and tucked his right hand into the vest for support as he was sure it was broken as well as sliced.

He staggered to the Gate and thank God the DHD worked. He was fading fast by the time Lorne with the rest of SGA1 and Beckett’s medical team came through.

“Rodney’s inna cave tha’ way. Jus’ follow m’ tracks back.”

Beckett swallowed hard at the bloody trail and nodded at the Colonel “Right. We’ve got you lad.”

604 words

Shep Whump Day 10 - Rain

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 22:39:10 GMT

Major Sheppard screams into the radio “Kolya!” as the edge of the storm hits, rain pouring over him soaking him instantly. Hyped up on adrenaline and brain fizzing with stealth strategies, it doesn’t affect him yet. Yelling at Kolya warms him for a few seconds, until he hears the words “Weir is dead.” Cold rage surges within him and the Atlantis hum at the back of his head goes up a notch. How dare he try and take over his city and kill an unarmed civilian.

“I- am- going- to- kill- you.” he says slowly and deliberately before heading off to deal with more of Kolya’s men. He has smoke bombs, his P90 and he knows Atlantis. Once they are out of the way he can concentrate on neutralising Kolya and rescuing McKay. He knows that they’ll have to head back to grounding station 3 to fix it so the shield works once the storm hits.

He takes out the crystals from a power Naquadah and control systems go down in one tower and then on station 3. He runs to the Gate-room and slips stealthily behind Laden as the reinforcements begin to come through. All his anger is behind the punch that takes Laden out and he activates the iris and locks the Gate stopping the rest of the attack force. He hears the thuds and knows what they are, but tucks it to the back of his mind.

He hopes no-one can hear his boots squelching slightly as he heads back to grounding station 3. Kolya comes back on the radio. Dr Weir is alive? His heart leaps a little in relief and McKay’s hanging on in there as well by the sound of it, well apart from revealing the shield plan.

The rest of his team turn up in the nick of time at the generator room, saving him from two guards posted there – he’s glad to see them knowing the flight back from the mainland must have been hellish.

0o0o0o0

Arriving at the Gate room, seeing guards shoving a gun in McKay’s back and the Gate open he has milliseconds to react with accuracy. The guards go down and McKay scurries to safety. Kolya grabs Dr Weir like a some trophy, and makes his blood boil. Kolya is such a coward, hurting civilians isn't an option.

“I will shoot you.”

Smoothly he brings his gun up and fires a single round knowing it's on target as soon as his muscles move on the trigger. Kolya jerks back falling into the event horizon, letting Weir go.

He grabs Weir’s hand and they rush to join McKay in the control room to activate the shield in two minutes or they are all toast. They are all dripping wet, clothes chafing uncomfortably.

After this mess he’s making plans to place weapons stashes all over the city, not that he wants it to ever happen again, but you never know. Hours later and he’s still running around, checking up on people, moving Genii soldiers and stashing Sora in the brig. Carson buzzed in his ear for the fortieth time.
"Yeah, okay I'm heading in. In a minute!"
"That’s what you said an hour ago! You said you had a sore shoulder."

Two days later he is stuck in bed with the mother of all head colds, miserable, sweaty and hacking up half a lung. McKay and Dr Weir have not so much as a sniffle. It isn’t fair. To Beckett’s confusion the temperature swings from stifling to freezing in the infirmary as Atlantis does her best to help him feel better…

601 words

Shep Whump Day 9 - Air

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 22:24:42 GMT

He’s exhausted from the heat and all the running around fighting the Wraith, not to mention the 15 hour flight in the Puddle- jumper before that. There’s also the soul weariness from knowing four of them came out but only two will return. He sits in the pilot seat, grimacing as his cracked ribs protest at the movement, His arm throbs and his whole body aches from the fight and slamming into the force field the wraith put round Jumper One. McKay is quiet in the back, feeling guilty over Gaul’s death. He rubs a hand over his face, hearing it rasp over his stubble. There’s sand in his boots, vest, probably in the bandage and he can feel it gritty in his hair too.

“Are you sure you want to fly back, Major Sheppard?” Teyla asks next to him. He nods wearily.

“I need to get going, I can swap out with McKay later- give him something to concentrate instead of Gaul...”

Hours into the flight his discomfort grows worse and it’s sapping his energy. He slumps a little over the controls, alarming Teyla.

“Sheppard, what’s wrong? McKay wake up, we need your help.”

“What?”

“M’fine, just…need a little air…” he says gasping. Stumbling to the back bench seat, Teyla passes him a Powerbar and some water. But eating makes him queasy and the slick sweat breaking out over his body makes him pant for air he doesn’t seem to have.

“Here sip a little water...”

But that makes him cough badly and almost pass out, when he looks into the tissue there’s blood. He’s still staring at it in horror, as urgent voices radio Atlantis, and he’s slipping onto his back, trying to pull in air he desperately needs. The voices and hum of the Jumper fade away.

300 words

Shep Whump Day 8 - Earth

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 19:48:43 GMT

One minute they were walking along, the next his left foot carried on going and his body followed through the hole that opened up beneath him and he was falling. He let out a startled yell that ended in an exhaled shout as he landed on his back and all the lights went out.

Some time later he came to, unable to remember quite what had happened. He tried moving and felt weighed down and there was an odd pattering noise and intermittent yelling from above. He moaned and slowly shifted his body working out what, if anything he done to himself. He forced his sluggish brain to work. Walking. Hole. Oh, yeah. Unscheduled landing. Ouch.
He opened his eyes only to get dirt in them, he slammed them shut and spat dirt out of his mouth too. He was partially pinned down by soft earth from the rim of the hole above him. He finally registered the shouts from above.

“Sheppard!” Someone peering down loosened more soil and he tried to yell at them to stop, but coughed dirt instead.

“I thought I heard something. Sheppard are you okay?"

Radio. He keyed the radio and pithily told them a) he was okay, just a little banged up b) to get away from the hole because they were burying him already and c) had anyone gone for some rope?
He pushed the soil away from his torso with his hands and sat up, ready to try standing and look at his new surroundings, but was stopped by bruising pain up and down his back. He lay back grimacing at the setback. He didn't think he'd broken his back, but for the moment there was no way he was going to be able to stand up and climb up a rope. He hit the ground with his fist in frustration.

He keyed the radio, once more

"Ahh, guys. I have a slight problem...."

Sometimes he swore the Galaxy was out to get him.

332 words

Shep Whump Day 7- Fire

Fri, 16 Jan 2009 23:38:02 GMT

He was flying, speeding through the blue sky, as free as a bird. It felt so good; he didn’t want it to end. And yet wasn’t there something he was supposed to be doing?

Stay

Well, okay he could carry on flying. The controls felt good, and even his flight-suit didn’t chafe and constrict like it often did when he’d been in the cockpit for a while. Come to think of it- had it been a while?

Stay

Winds buffeted the Cessna 210E, he took a quick look out of the windows. This model was one of the reasons he’d chosen it over the C 210A- the windows were bigger and the engine was 285 HP. Sweet. He needed the bigger windows for tourist chartering and the addition of engine oomph was always a plus. The plane had a designated number of course but he always thought of her as Atlantis in his head. The mythical city, the never-never, because this was what he’d always dreamed of doing one day and it had seemed impossible that he’d ever be able to actually buy the Cessna.

Stay

He looked automatically at the dials and switches, he stared at the panel- all the needles and dials read 42. That was impossible. It didn’t make any sense. But it jolted him into an awareness of something . He turned the stick to head back to….where? He was getting worried.

Don’t go

Okay, now he was officially freaked and wanted out. He pushed the stick forward to drop altitude, to head for a runway, to land—anything…

You cannot go, I won’t let you

Oh, yeah? Just watch me, he thought and dove down from the clouds and into the sun baked desert of Nevada and a runway, terminal building and a single control tower that looked like it had been built in the 1940’s. It looked deserted apart from a few abandoned fire and baggage trucks. Everything started fine until he got closer and he could feel the aircraft fighting him, pushing him….

Then no-one else will have you, pilot…

What the…? The controls went screwy and the engine sputtered and suddenly he was flying a brick and the ground was rushing up towards him at an incredible speed. The radio was dead. He pulled at the stick, sweat breaking out, his hand cramping with the force of his grip. It was no good, he was going to land messily at best, pancake at worst. Finally the landing gear dropped and he bounced on one wheel before slewing to one side and he thought he’d made it. Then the tyres burst sending him nose down, shearing the propeller and the last thing he saw was the red static fire truck as he hit. Somebody was having a big laugh at his expense that was obvious. The Cessna stopped but his body carried on travelling in momentum, slamming him into the controls and he had a few seconds to wonder if this was it or not.

He came to, immediately smelling smoke and fire. He was trapped and he couldn’t get out. He hurt so badly, but he didn’t want to die in the fire. He’d seen people with burns. He wanted to fly again. It wasn’t much to ask. The belt wouldn’t come undone, the door wouldn’t open and he couldn’t breathe. He shouted and screamed, but he breathed in smoke instead.

Stay

NO! Dammit, not like this. He coughed up blood and his chest wouldn’t expand and the fire came towards him, engulfing him. The heat rippled over him, melting and crisping at the same time…

Yes, like this

He screamed in defiance…and died.

0o0o0

He took a shuddering breath, gasping and fighting to get out, undo the belt, the door…

“Whoa, hang on Sheppard! Stop fighting us! You’re alright! Well, okay you’ve been mind sucked by some Ancient Hussy Holodeck thing…so, not alright really….”

He coughed and choked, still trying to comprehend the cool floor underneath him and Rodney and his team hovering over him. Beckett leant in to clamp an oxygen mask over his face.

“Colonel? Calm down. Breathe slowly for me. I don’t know what the machine did to you, but it’s not doing it now. You’re in Atlantis and you’re going to be okay.” Beckett stared into Sheppard’s wild and frantic eyes, the portable heart monitor beeping too fast next to him on the floor. Sheppard brought up a shaking hand to grab Beckett’s jacket.

“What, lad?” and lifted the mask

“Is this real?” he croaked, damn his chest ached.

“What do you mean? Of course this is real Sheppard! Do you think we like watching you go into a minor vegetatative state and nearly die on us?”

“Then you didn’t see what happened?”

“No, what did happen John? Can you tell us?” Teyla asked quietly.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. Maybe later.”

“Right, I think it’s time we took you to the infirmary for a check up.

Ronon and Beckett gave him a helping hand to stand, he wobbled a little and headed off, mother hens all clucking behind him.

0o0o0

He woke with a start, gasping for breath and fighting with the sheets. Third night in a row. He shouldn’t be surprised really. Anyone would have issues after the grabby Ancient tech incident. For him, it laid bare previously hidden demons. He’s crashed and been on fire before. He hadn’t been badly burned, but he could still smell the smoke, feel the heat, smell the blood and hear the screams. Friends had died. And then he been a POW far a while. That hadn’t been a bundle of laughs either. He got out of bed, pulled on sweats, a dry T Shirt and his running shoes. He didn’t care what time of night or early morning it was. He had to go. The route would take him past Atlantis’s sea and he could sit at the end of one of the piers. Restful waves and cool water, not a hint of heat and flame and sand….

1,014 words…ah, okay this one ran away with itself…

Shep Whump 30 Day 6 - Water

Fri, 16 Jan 2009 00:15:29 GMT

They find Sheppard slumped in the corner of a bamboo cage, bloodied and beaten. A painful retaliation for visiting the planet, meeting the inhabitants and then the Wraith turning up a day later. When the team return as promised naturally the locals jumped to the wrong conclusion and force Sheppard to answer their questions about waking the Wraith. McKay, Teyla and Ronon are forced to return to Atlantis for 24 hours until they can take Sheppard back with them. Rodney protested loudly while Teyla tried to maintain some calm and stop Ronon from shooting everybody and dragging Sheppard away. Sheppard insisted that they have no other option but to do this, he can last for 24 hours he reassured them.

When they return with Beckett (just in case) to collect Sheppard, no one said it but they were all wondering what they would find.

“Dear God was it as hot as this yesterday too?” panted Beckett wiping his face to dry the sweat running down his neck.

“Yes, worse yesterday according to the sensors,” replied McKay.

“And you all had plenty of water?”

“Carson, we had several canteens.” Teyla assured him.

In the centre of the village, the see the bamboo cage and John slumped in a corner, still in his black BDU’s and shirt. There’s no respite from the heat of the sun. The village leader Dornac opens the pen.

“We meant no harm to him, we gave him plenty of water against the sun. He fought us on several issues and we had to restrain him at times. But we are happy now that he did not specifically lead the Wraith here.”

“Yes, well we could have told you that- you didn’t have to torture Sheppard!” ranted McKay, as Beckett and Teyla pulled Sheppard out of the cage. He began to rouse a little, mumbling, his legs struggling to stay upright. They half walked carried him to a shaded spot and lowered him down.

Ronon and Rodney watched worried as Beckett checked Sheppard over. “You’re not making much sense, Colonel. At least they kept you cool with the water. You want some to drink?” Strangely this seemed to animate the Colonel and he fought them, crawling into the sun again.

“Sheppard, what the hell are you doing?!” squawked Rodney and looked on in horror with the rest of the team as Sheppard appeared to have a mild seizure. The jerking and spasm did not last more than a few seconds, but it was long enough.

Beckett rushed over to check he hadn’t bitten his tongue, trying to get Sheppard to respond coherently. He had a bad feeling about this all of a sudden.

“Listen we need to get the Colonel back to the jumper as quickly as possible. Ronon you run back an alert Atlantis of a medical emergency. Rodney and I can carry him. Teyla- I need you to stay and ask these questions, then catch us up. I’d like to ask these myself but we need to get moving.”

0o0o0

When Teyla arrived at the Infirmary she found Ronon and Rodney waiting impatiently outside.

“How is he?”

“They’re not saying yet.” said Ronon.

“I don’t understand about the water? Surely water in such heat is good?” Teyla asked.

“Beckett said that if you have too much water in too short a span of time then it can be dangerous. Something about upsetting the electrolyte balance- not enough sodium in the blood. If it happens too quickly it can swell the brain cells.” Rodney rattled off the explanation, pacing back and forth in front of his seated team-mates.

“Brain cells? That sounds…” Teyla began.

“Yes, yes yes, dangerous. It could be- convulsions, coma.”

“But Doctor Becket can do something about this can he not?”

At that moment Beckett came out and they crowded round.
“Well, my suspicions we right from the information you gave me Teyla- Hyponatraemia or over hydration. We’re keeping an eye on his blood levels and obviously restricting his water intake. He’ll be alright given a little time. You don’t see this kind of thing very often, but it’s treatable with something as simple as saline. If he was worse we’d have to go the diuretic route.”

“So, he’ll have no lasting effects Carson?”

“Aye that’s right love. We got there in time. He’ll probably have a few muscle cramps, headaches, feel tired. Might be a little confused about things. But he’ll be fine.”

740 words unbeta’d and any medical mistakes are my own in spite of Google…