[Previous entry: "Nanowrimo Day 1"] [Next entry: "Nano Day 3"]

11/07/2005: "Nano Day 2"

music: n/a
mood: n/a

Day 2 was less successful, started later at night due to hectic Tuesdays. Started Chapter 2, but didn't finish it.

Daily Word Count: 1188

It was hard to put in words the feelings a man has when he steps foot on a planet he has, most certainly, never visited, only to find a giant monolith with his face on it.

“Okay, now rationally, that can’t be my face up there.”

That is unless you are John Sheppard.

“Rational or not, it bears a striking resemblance to you Colonel Sheppard,” Teyla said quietly.

“Help me here Teyla, rational is keeping me from flipping out.”

“Right,” she nodded, “rational it is then.”

Ronon eyed the statue critically, frowning slightly. “That’s not right.”

“Tell me about it,” Sheppard agreed.

“You’re holding the gun incorrectly. You only hold it like that if you want to blow your face off.”

“I’m not holding the gun,” Sheppard corrected, annoyed, “the statue is.”

“Either way—”

“All right, your speaking privileges are revoked.”

Ronon eyed Sheppard skeptically, who shrugged in return. “Had to try.”

“As if your ego wasn’t inflated enough,” Rodney muttered to himself. “You’re going to have to have a whole wing of Atlantis to house it after this.”

“Don’t get us confused now McKay. My ego hasn’t made anything supernova.”

“Just not going to let that one go, are you?”

Naick had been watching the interchange between the strangers up until now, but stepped forward. “Perhaps we should continue our way to the village. I think the elders will be able to explain things.”

“Explanations sound good,” John nodded. “They’d be really good.”

“Your resemblance to the Shafer is remarkable. This statue has stood guard over this valley for nearly ten thousand years.”

“Ten thousand?” John whistled and studied the statue, and was able to now make out the signs of weathering, but like the Sphinx in Egypt, it still had an amazing amount of detail. “It sure is in good condition.”

“Our best artisans clean and refine it annually.”

Rodney gave the ‘village’ in the distance a quick once over, “Artisans? Really?”

Teyla sent him a stern look and he held his arms out as if to say “What?”. She shook her head lightly and turned her attention back to the hunting party that had lead them here. “Who is this Shafer, exactly?”

“He is our guardian,” Alech spoke up quickly, “he saved our people from a great evil, and they say—”

“Alech, please,” Naick interrupted and turned to address the Atlantians. “I’m sure you’re very curious, but the elders are the keepers of our history. They will be able to enlighten you on what has happened, and what may still happen.”

“What may still happen?” Sheppard asked.

Naick bit his lip, obviously unsure if he should reveal what was really on his mind.

“Okay, I look like a huge statue that’s been here for an impossibly long time. That’s not the only thing that has everyone here so excited.” Sheppard crossed his arms and leaned back into a slightly standoffish stance. “Spill it.”

Naick sighed. “Fine. The Shafer saved our people from certain destruction long, long ago, and legend has it one day he will return when our people are in great need.”

“Riiight,” Sheppard drew out the word and then sucked in a deep breath before letting it out. “So I’m guessing you all think that’s me.”

“I think that is what most people believe,” Naick agreed.

“But you don’t?” Teyla asked.

“Just because someone says they can fly doesn’t mean they can.”

“In other words, no,” Sheppard translated, eyes flicking to the twin annoyed expressions on Torn and Alech’s faces. “And you guys?”

“There have been many signs,” Alech sent an annoyed glance to Naick, before looking back at Sheppard. “Too many for most to ignore.”

“Enough,” Naick held up a fist. “Our guests are tired, and since this conversation will likely be a long one, I think it best for us to continue it more comfortably.

* * * * *

The village, while hovel-like in appearance from a distance, had a certain charm about it upon closer inspection. Many of the homes appeared to be very old, perhaps several generations. The wide dirt path that dissected it neatly in half had been worn in by many years of constant use, but there were not many dips or potholes to avoid as they made their way to the Elder’s House.

Along the way, their group garnered more than a few stares, and even one woman took one look at Sheppard and burst out into tears. Being the center of attention wasn’t usually such a problem, but the intensity of it was staggering. He was glad when they stepped inside the dim interior of the Elder’s House.

“I think I’m going to invest in a mask, or at the very least a hoodie,” he muttered to himself.

“Please, you’d look like you were about to knock over a convenience store. Elizabeth would never let you out of Atlantis looking like that,” Rodney smirked.

“I stopped letting women pick out my clothes in the first grade McKay,” Sheppard eyed the standard issue off-world uniform, seeing nothing he could throw back at the scientist. But… a certain outfit came to mind from a few months back. “Unfortunately I think you need to take the practice up again.”

McKay gave himself a quick once over, then rolled his eyes. “I don’t see anything wrong with what I’m wearing. The exact same as you.”

“I’m actually thinking back to a certain outfit you wore on you and Carson’s double date with Katie Brown.”

“I think I had a lot more on my mind back then than what I was wearing. Like a whole other person trapped in there!”

“Yeah, but she seriously let you step out of your quarters wearing that? To a date? Cadman must hate you more than I thought.”

“Shut up,” McKay snapped. He still had nightmares about his forced make-out session with Carson. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about your chiseled features out there than my dressing habits?”

He had a point. Although it never paid to go too long without ribbing McKay (it lightened the stress load), there still was the matter of a ten thousand year old statue of him.

The Elder’s House was actually more of a large hall, with several off-shoots that lead to different rooms. They stood in the entrance as Naick and the others left to retrieve someone. Candles flickered, stationed strategically throughout the room to illuminate the area as much as possible.

Out of the shadows of one of the corridors Naick and company returned, this time with a short plump man that had to be pushing at least sixty. Naick motioned to the man.

“This is Shafer Barclay, he’s the historian among our elders, as well as head of the council.”

Sheppard’s team nodded their greetings.

“And this is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard,” he motioned to Sheppard.

“You are absolutely correct Naick, he’s the spitting image of the Shafer. It’s absolutely uncanny.”

Someone cleared their throat rather loudly. Sheppard elbowed McKay none too gently, who protested with a grunt.

“Oh yes, and this is Teyla Emmagen, Ronon Dex, and Rodney McKay,” Naick finished.