Wraith Defenders Club

[scifi_lemon]

yes... youtube is our friend.... search for kjcharmed... this guy uploads the new ep every week, and has been doing so since Quest Pt2.... and that's all he uploads.... he's the only person i trust for SG1 eps..... i, uh, unfortunately lost the name of the guy who uploads the SGA eps... so i haven't seen past Return Pt2 .....

Thanx for the rec! I'll go look him up now. Btw, for SGA episode vids, I'd highly rec Chayiana or footinsink. They always upload the new episodes and make good fanvids too

[Lilith]

Thanx for the rec! I'll go look him up now. Btw, for SGA episode vids, I'd highly rec Chayiana or footinsink. They always upload the new episodes and make good fanvids too

will do... thanks

[ChelApophis]

Oooohh! ooh! So nice, soooo nice. I have real handsome boss.
Adorable, thank you!!!! I´ve downloaded it...If you don´t object????

Thanks. Yes , he is handsome.....
I don't object , I was just teasing you. .........Yes , it is the sexy wraith male from the hive. I just thought they look good together. ah! (dreamming!)

[ChelApophis]

finally got to see submersion and i got to say that i absolutely love it and i love the look of the queen in it and now i think Ariel sounds better for her name and just to tell every one that Andee frizzell has updated her blog here is the link http://blog.andeefrizzell.com/

It is a great episode , and one of Andee's best perfomance as wraith queen , in my opinion. When I saw the episode and her swimming for nearly 1 km on the bottom of the ocean .....She just made me think at a mermaide. I also loved her clothes, she is just perfect.
Thanks , I'll go check it out.

[ChelApophis]

yes... youtube is our friend.... search for kjcharmed... this guy uploads the new ep every week, and has been doing so since Quest Pt2.... and that's all he uploads.... he's the only person i trust for SG1 eps..... i, uh, unfortunately lost the name of the guy who uploads the SGA eps... so i haven't seen past Return Pt2 .....


welcome! welcome!!

which is why i said either he or teyla would be anticlimatic.... having Ronan turned into a wraith would be just plain funny i mean he's sympathises the least out of everyone.... if it was teyla, then i really wouldn't be interested b/c then it would too much like the Shroud.... she is part wraith, and the most sympathetic, and SGA has used enough SG1 plots already imo....

also, this just only occured to me, but with Andie's blog, all these other SGA blogs by cast and crew, is there a place to leave comments, and if so, has anyone thought about leaving the link for the petition there? i mean if we can get the actors and secondary producers to agree with us, we could really make an impact in our cause.... just a thought....

Lilith , this is a great ideea. What you are sugesting could really make a difference and help us with our fight for the wraith rights. And keeping them in Atlantis. I haven't really paid attention if there is a place to leave comment , althought I think there is one on Andee's blog.Anyway your ideea about leaving a link to you petition on their blogs is just briliant!!!!

[susanne]

thats our lilith always fighting for the rights of the bad guys hehe

[jesserella]

does anyone else from the uk have telewest. coz they just lost sky one, which means i don't get to see the last few episodes of the series, , tis not fair,

ps, go wraith

[kaeyla]

Here once again for Laura the Asgard "The Hunger; part two - now to go home

Spoiler:

He heard the thrilling roar of low voices talking in the dark void and the darkness that held him surrounded deeper than Death. He was naked so then they must have taken his garments from him, his father's coat too. He was naked in this sphere of Darkness and Death. He became aware of some shadow thin fine light material covering him with a semblence of dignity in this tangled web of madness, from his toes to his chest.

The feel was grating and sore on his skin. His body still wanted to explode into a thousand suns but there would be rebirth of will. Then once again there would be the pain and this nightmare place only to return to it again and again. His face was left uncovered by whateever it was that perserved his dignity.

He could feel the air moving, crawling over his skin like a million vicious unaware insects, over his prickling aching face. Beneath his head, his hair and scalp lay in the grip of a myriad sensations that a folded cloth gave to him . Yes there was a folded cloth under his head in this strange hellish dimension of too many harsh senses and no Vision. Everywhere else though his bare skin felt cold metal beneath him. Was he trapped for all blazing eternalties, unable to move at all, forever after death unable to even open his eyes?

Below the voices- not the rise and fall of Wraith voices, he heard pulsing low and brittle. What was he was hearing after his own death? Slowly it throbbed, painful as a thorn through bleeding flesh he heard it, pulse after flickering pulse. It was ever faltering but neverending. Something was moving within deep inside him. He was aware of air moving infinatasimically in and out of him- softer than the breath of serpants and the wind under the wings of all flying creatures. In and out, In and out...barely, through his broken lungs. He was sore, broken in a billion fragments of flesh and bone. Beaten by life, he had beaten death. He knew he was not in the realms of Death but he was alive. Destroyed and torn into slices of poisoned cells and muscle, he was a living psyche, not a disemboded dead being wandering forever on the wind, aimless as unspoken words.

Yet again his formidable will had won him victory a war over Death. The terrible unrelenting pulses he had heard were the beats of his own ravaged heart. Yes every cell in his body was burnt, branded and purged by the poison, of cohesion and wholeness. It was such devastated mess than even The Hunger was smashed writhing no longer but pinned by the ruins of his body. Yet he won a Victory and he was still alive even now.

One of the voices spoke it sound was lilted with an accent from a faraway shore, another galaxy even. It told the other voice that he was about to cut him open. The other exclaimed that he was off then. He knew that second voice. It had tormented verbally all through the burninge rage of his Hunger trrtying to pierce beneath the armour of his dignity. Yet at the end it's owner had shown compassion to summon him aid.

He had to tell them that he lived if only just living in this wracked shell of raw nerves and cellular trauma. the first voice was broadcasting hard , he could see the human's thoughts of - something called an autopsy rhat would carve him wide open with a Y inscision- whatever that may be. Although he knew the first voice wanted to take him to scientific pieces. Thre would be no return from this death his body was weak. This would have tobe stopped. He had to tell them. It would be so easy if they were Wraith, just talk mind to mind, cerebral messages across space. All this living Death horror would be over. He was in the thrall of a ghostly half life and ending it with the edge of a knife.

He tried to move but his body was no longer an obediant servant- oh it still was obediant but ircould no longer follow any orders no matter how small. His heart beat and his blood flowed in clotted trickles moved by his heart's feeble motions and the air in his shattered lungs. It was as though his body was dead but it lived. He tried to swallow, the movement scraped the air across his wind pipe like sands blown by the storms across the desert worlds he had seen in his long life. What if he spent the rest of life like this. A wraith could live forever.

He swallowed once again and once again the metaphorical winds blew non existant sands across his dry throat. He hoped the movement would attract their atention but to no avail. IT was as though as he really was deceased for he could not get the eyes of the truly living to focus on him or unblock their ears to their suffering.

A human saying he had heard during his starving incaeration came to his sharp mind. " Where there is a will there is a way." Well he would just have to find the way back to the living even if it was his enemies he had to rejoin with. He had to find a way before the light of his life was extinguished by the dark blade of a cold knife. Those that would kill him could also save him if he could but make them hear him. Before it sliced through his body made fragile by their blistering poison. Temind yourself he told himself that the poison was now dissolved like night shadows by the early morning sunlight he had secretly loved as a child. He had drove it out him the same way he had driven death out of himself.

He twitched and moved but unaware they talked over him, ignoring his shivers to tell Them he lived yet As though he wsa inanimate as the cold metal that they had him lying brcause they rhough he ws carrion. And by all that lived, it was cold, so cold- like the kiss of death in winter against his naked skin.Use it! He told himself and using the freezing chilling metal to narrow his focus. He wanted to feel the warmth of the sun again. Use the cold- Use it.

Taking air deep into into his aching lungs, he pushed hard to expel it through his throat and mouth. Nothing but the silent, almost silent unperceptable rise of his chest like shiftless seas with no true tides. He needed the tide of life to stay alive. He though without warning of his Sister. something she said, something umremembered that made him laugh. He saw in the dark world the vision of a memory of her laughing hard at him laughing so hard. It had been the first time he had laughed since Thereyla's death and it had given her so much joy to see him do so again...

Her voice echoed once and again he laughed. Only the laugh came out as a mere whisper but it was enough to expel the block of air from out of his lungs and mouth. A feeble strangled moan escaped his lips and it sounded like the rustling of a wind through dry broken long grass. Faint but it was there and heard the turning of heads and startled exclaimations so much louder than his own voice.

"He isn't dead" Said the second voice, alien with accents that had not been heard before in this galaxy. He heard the sound of feet rushing toward him. Human hands touched him. They fold his faint erratic pulse threaded inside his congeste veins." It can 't be - his body was almost destroyed by the Hoffan and chemical poisons. His system must be shot to sh... I can only guess what he might be suffering. He is alive."

" Looks like that trip to the infimary back on" Said the voice of the spike haired Warrior...

He tried to see the human face belonging to the voice but he heard or saw no more. Concienciousness claimed him not death this time. Weary and worn out with the horror and the pain he surrendered to the warm welcoming darkness that enfolded him into its black, unfeeling unfeeling depths. As he went down into his depths he thought he heard his Sister's voice calling him from far across cold space with its burning hot stars...Wait he called back I am trying to come home now but there was no more but that unfeeling blackness.

There he stayed in the healing trance of his Kind. Not quite hibernation his pysche body and mind were too ruptured and torn apart for that. He was to hurt to shut down entirely during the terible road to healing. Even the Hunger was so sick, to sick to partake and revel in the fountains of life force that surounded him. It waited for him to heal molecule by molecule, atom by atom, imploding from the healing- such awful healing that he felt every part of as he mended cell by cell.

Time ceased to have any real or rational meaning to him- nor did he care any more- somrtimrd it was dark and sometimes it was light and that was all... Sometimes he rose to full conciencousness to become aware of his surroundings. Sometimes he became aware of the scurryings if humans around him as he lay on their healer's bed. Their administrations seem to come from a misty veiled distance when he could open his eyes. Hands that handled his paralysis with indifference mostly- athough he could feel the hate of one them like a bead of heat in their emotions. Oddly after awhile this became balanced by a human female, one of those who attended to him.

Not liking to be observed she sat by his bed reading from something called a book to him. As though it mattered to him at all. Sometimes she even worked up the nerve to brush his hair for him. As though that mattered. Life was a lifetime away. She thought he did know that she brushed his hair. Nothing really mattered anymore but still she came to read to him and when her fingers accidently brushed his him when did his hair he could feel at first she was nor even sure why she did this either...at first

Time passed and still he could not move. His body was slow to heal, trapped in the cycle of healing and the pain had begun lessen a blessed little. Aware and trapped was what he was as the shell of his body ... In time they put him him in a stasis tube. Where nothing mattered not even the suffering ir the Hunger. They thought they were being kind to him because they believed the sstasis tube had shut down his body until something could be done for him.

Even in the clear prison of the stasis tube he still felt for a long long time.Feeling was the only task his ravaged task could do - its only performance in life. From time to time the human stole up to see him like a ghost in the twilight. Her hands rested on the glass like substance of the stasis tube. She told him how her day had went ...It was mad but after awhile it was like light and sound in the never ending fog of numbness. Her voice in the deathly silence substained him through the empty madness of healing...Then mercifully came the time he heled enough to enter the blessed state of total hibernation- no slow beat of his heart, no feelings of his blood moaning and whispering through his veins, cell by cell in every drop that moved., no screamingbreathe moving, body all unending- stopped as the hibernation took over him and then for a very long time there was nothing at all and that was the way he wanted it. Nothing at all.

He awoke once again, aware of the ghost of the Hunger returning faint as mist over water. He was healed the Hunger was coming back. It had saved him by turning on his pain and feeding from that until he could enter hibernation. Could a Wraith do that- he had just done it. Soon the hunger would want lifeforce to take once again. His hands shot out and encountered a hard surface. They had not buried him alive thinking he was dead. He banged his fists on the glassy textured surface and remembered he was in the stasis tube at last. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the face of the human woman. He heard her shout for aid and in time it came while he searched the wals of the stasis tube for a way free from its confines. By all that he held sacred he could move and he snarled with joy. If only he could go home noe see his Mother and His Sister, yes his father too. Then he could feed until his Hunger was really content.

[Xepherah]

And the story goes on at http://xepherah.livejournal.com/

[Xepherah]

Here once again for Laura the Asgard "The Hunger; part two - now to go home

Spoiler:

He the thrilling roar of low voices talking in the dark void and the darkness that held him surrounded deeper than Death. He was naked and then they must have taken his garment, his father's coat too. He was naked in this sphere of Darkness and Death. He became aware some shadow thin fine light material covered him with a semblence of dignity in this tangled webof madness, from his toes to his chest.

The feel was grating and sore on his skin. His body still wanted to explode into a thousand suns but there would be rebirth and once again there would be the pain and this night mare place only to return again and again. His face was left uncovered.

He could feel the air moving, crawling over his skin like a million vicious unaware insects, over his prickling aching face. Beneath his head, his hair and scalp lay in the grip of a myriad sensations that a folded cloth gave him . Yes there was a folded cloth under his head in this strange hellish dimension of too many senses and no Vision.Every else though his bare skin felt cold metal beneath. Was he trapped here for all blazing eternalties, unable to move at all, trappped forever after death unable to even open his eyes?

Below the voices, they were not the rise and fall of Wraith voices, he heard something pulsing low insipid and brittle. What was he was hearing after his own death? Slowly it throbbed as painful as a thorn through bleeding he heard it, pulse after flickering pulse. It was ever faltering but neverending. Something was moving within deep inside him. He was aware of air moving infinatasimically in and out of him- softer than the breath of serpants and under the wings of all flying creatures. In and out, In and out... through his broken lungs. He was sore, broken in a billion fragments of flesh and bone beaten by life, he beaten death. He knew now he was not in the realms of Death but he was alive. Destroyed and torn into slices of poisoned cells and muscle, trapped he was a living psyche and not a disemboded dead being wandering forever on the wind, aimless as unspoken words.

Yet again his formidable will had won him victory a war over Death. The terrible unrelenting pulses he had heard were the beats of his own ravaged heart. Yes every cell in his body was burnt, branded and purged by the poison, of cohesion and wholeness. It was such devastated mess than even The Hunger was smashed writhing no longer but pinned by the ruins of his body. Yet he won a Victory and he was still alive even now.

One of the voices spoke it sound was lilted with an accent from a faraway shore, another galaxy even. It told the other voice that he was about to cut him open. The other exclaimed that he was off then. He knew that second voice. It had tormented verbally all through the burninge rage of his Hunger trrtying to pierce beneath the armour of his dignity. Yet at the end it's owner had shown compassion to summon him aid.

He had to tell them that he lived if only just living in this wracked shell of raw nerves and cellular trauma. the first voice was broadcasting hard , he could see the human's thoughts of - something called an autopsy rhat would carve him wide open with a Y inscision- whatever that may be. Although he knew the first voice wanted to take him to scientific pieces. Thre would be no return from this death his body was weak. This would have tobe stopped. He had to tell them. It would be so easy if they were Wraith, just talk mind to mind, cerebral messages across space. All this living Death horror would be over. He was in the thrall of a ghostly half life and ending it with the edge of a knife.

He tried to move but his body was no longer an obediant servant- oh it still was obediant but ircould no longer follow any orders no matter how small. His heart beat and his blood flowed in clotted trickles moved by his heart's feeble motions and the air in his shattered lungs. It was as though his body was dead but it lived. He tried to swallow, the movement scraped the air across his wind pipe like sands blown by the storms across the desert worlds he had seen in his long life. What if he spent the rest of life like this. A wraith could live forever.

He swallowed once again and once again the metaphorical winds blew non existant sands across his dry throat. He hoped the movement would attract their atention but to no avail. IT was as though as he really was deceased for he could not get the eyes of the truly living to focus on him or unblock their ears to their suffering.

A human saying he had heard during his starving incaeration came to his sharp mind. " Where there is a will there is a way." Well he would just have to find the way back to the living even if it was his enemies he had to rejoin with. He had to find a way before the light of his life was extinguished by the dark blade of a cold knife. Those that would kill him could also save him if he could but make them hear him. Before it sliced through his body made fragile by their blistering poison. Temind yourself he told himself that the poison was now dissolved like night shadows by the early morning sunlight he had secretly loved as a child. He had drove it out him the same way he had driven death out of himself.

He twitched and moved but unaware they talked over him, ignoring his shivers to tell Them he lived yet As though he wsa inanimate as the cold metal that they had him lying brcause they rhough he ws carrion. And by all that lived, it was cold, so cold- like the kiss of death in winter against his naked skin.Use it! He told himself and using the freezing chilling metal to narrow his focus. He wanted to feel the warmth of the sun again. Use the cold- Use it.

Taking air deep into into his aching lungs, he pushed hard to expel it through his throat and mouth. Nothing but the silent, almost silent unperceptable rise of his chest like shiftless seas with no true tides. He needed the tide of life to stay alive. He though without warning of his Sister. something she said, something umremembered that made him laugh. He saw in the dark world the vision of a memory of her laughing hard at him laughing so hard. It had been the first time he had laughed since Thereyla's death and it had given her so much joy to see him do so again...

Her voice echoed once and again he laughed. Only the laugh came out as a mere whisper but it was enough to expel the block of air from out of his lungs and mouth. A feeble strangled moan escaped his lips and it sounded like the rustling of a wind through dey broken long grass. Faint but it was there

Kaeyla...You are VERY POETIC! I like that!
We want more of this stuff...
good job

[Lilith]

Lilith , this is a great ideea. What you are sugesting could really make a difference and help us with our fight for the wraith rights. And keeping them in Atlantis. I haven't really paid attention if there is a place to leave comment , althought I think there is one on Andee's blog.Anyway your ideea about leaving a link to you petition on their blogs is just briliant!!!!

i left it on Andee's blog last night.... diplomatically of course

thats our lilith always fighting for the rights of the bad guys hehe

looks who's talking, Miss "I got turned into a wraith twice"

does anyone else from the uk have telewest. coz they just lost sky one, which means i don't get to see the last few episodes of the series, , tis not fair,

ps, go wraith

that's what youtube's for babe

[ChelApophis]

And the story goes on at http://xepherah.livejournal.com/

I like this part best. Could there be love in Shawn's future? Interesting ! Your writting is just great , full of emotion and poetry , I really love it. You should send it to James , since he played Shawn. In this way he'd see what he could have lived.
Now , on the other hand, I would have liked to tight Shawn to the bed myself, hmmm (dreamming)

[ChelApophis]

Here once again for Laura the Asgard "The Hunger; part two - now to go home

Spoiler:

He heard the thrilling roar of low voices talking in the dark void and the darkness that held him surrounded deeper than Death. He was naked so then they must have taken his garments from him, his father's coat too. He was naked in this sphere of Darkness and Death. He became aware of some shadow thin fine light material covering him with a semblence of dignity in this tangled web of madness, from his toes to his chest.

The feel was grating and sore on his skin. His body still wanted to explode into a thousand suns but there would be rebirth of will. Then once again there would be the pain and this nightmare place only to return to it again and again. His face was left uncovered by whateever it was that perserved his dignity.

He could feel the air moving, crawling over his skin like a million vicious unaware insects, over his prickling aching face. Beneath his head, his hair and scalp lay in the grip of a myriad sensations that a folded cloth gave to him . Yes there was a folded cloth under his head in this strange hellish dimension of too many harsh senses and no Vision. Everywhere else though his bare skin felt cold metal beneath him. Was he trapped for all blazing eternalties, unable to move at all, forever after death unable to even open his eyes?

Below the voices- not the rise and fall of Wraith voices, he heard pulsing low and brittle. What was he was hearing after his own death? Slowly it throbbed, painful as a thorn through bleeding flesh he heard it, pulse after flickering pulse. It was ever faltering but neverending. Something was moving within deep inside him. He was aware of air moving infinatasimically in and out of him- softer than the breath of serpants and the wind under the wings of all flying creatures. In and out, In and out...barely, through his broken lungs. He was sore, broken in a billion fragments of flesh and bone. Beaten by life, he had beaten death. He knew he was not in the realms of Death but he was alive. Destroyed and torn into slices of poisoned cells and muscle, he was a living psyche, not a disemboded dead being wandering forever on the wind, aimless as unspoken words.

Yet again his formidable will had won him victory a war over Death. The terrible unrelenting pulses he had heard were the beats of his own ravaged heart. Yes every cell in his body was burnt, branded and purged by the poison, of cohesion and wholeness. It was such devastated mess than even The Hunger was smashed writhing no longer but pinned by the ruins of his body. Yet he won a Victory and he was still alive even now.

One of the voices spoke it sound was lilted with an accent from a faraway shore, another galaxy even. It told the other voice that he was about to cut him open. The other exclaimed that he was off then. He knew that second voice. It had tormented verbally all through the burninge rage of his Hunger trrtying to pierce beneath the armour of his dignity. Yet at the end it's owner had shown compassion to summon him aid.

He had to tell them that he lived if only just living in this wracked shell of raw nerves and cellular trauma. the first voice was broadcasting hard , he could see the human's thoughts of - something called an autopsy rhat would carve him wide open with a Y inscision- whatever that may be. Although he knew the first voice wanted to take him to scientific pieces. Thre would be no return from this death his body was weak. This would have tobe stopped. He had to tell them. It would be so easy if they were Wraith, just talk mind to mind, cerebral messages across space. All this living Death horror would be over. He was in the thrall of a ghostly half life and ending it with the edge of a knife.

He tried to move but his body was no longer an obediant servant- oh it still was obediant but ircould no longer follow any orders no matter how small. His heart beat and his blood flowed in clotted trickles moved by his heart's feeble motions and the air in his shattered lungs. It was as though his body was dead but it lived. He tried to swallow, the movement scraped the air across his wind pipe like sands blown by the storms across the desert worlds he had seen in his long life. What if he spent the rest of life like this. A wraith could live forever.

He swallowed once again and once again the metaphorical winds blew non existant sands across his dry throat. He hoped the movement would attract their atention but to no avail. IT was as though as he really was deceased for he could not get the eyes of the truly living to focus on him or unblock their ears to their suffering.

A human saying he had heard during his starving incaeration came to his sharp mind. " Where there is a will there is a way." Well he would just have to find the way back to the living even if it was his enemies he had to rejoin with. He had to find a way before the light of his life was extinguished by the dark blade of a cold knife. Those that would kill him could also save him if he could but make them hear him. Before it sliced through his body made fragile by their blistering poison. Temind yourself he told himself that the poison was now dissolved like night shadows by the early morning sunlight he had secretly loved as a child. He had drove it out him the same way he had driven death out of himself.

He twitched and moved but unaware they talked over him, ignoring his shivers to tell Them he lived yet As though he wsa inanimate as the cold metal that they had him lying brcause they rhough he ws carrion. And by all that lived, it was cold, so cold- like the kiss of death in winter against his naked skin.Use it! He told himself and using the freezing chilling metal to narrow his focus. He wanted to feel the warmth of the sun again. Use the cold- Use it.

Taking air deep into into his aching lungs, he pushed hard to expel it through his throat and mouth. Nothing but the silent, almost silent unperceptable rise of his chest like shiftless seas with no true tides. He needed the tide of life to stay alive. He though without warning of his Sister. something she said, something umremembered that made him laugh. He saw in the dark world the vision of a memory of her laughing hard at him laughing so hard. It had been the first time he had laughed since Thereyla's death and it had given her so much joy to see him do so again...

Her voice echoed once and again he laughed. Only the laugh came out as a mere whisper but it was enough to expel the block of air from out of his lungs and mouth. A feeble strangled moan escaped his lips and it sounded like the rustling of a wind through dry broken long grass. Faint but it was there and heard the turning of heads and startled exclaimations so much louder than his own voice.

"He isn't dead" Said the second voice, alien with accents that had not been heard before in this galaxy. He heard the sound of feet rushing toward him. Human hands touched him. They fold his faint erratic pulse threaded inside his congeste veins." It can 't be - his body was almost destroyed by the Hoffan and chemical poisons. His system must be shot to sh... I can only guess what he might be suffering. He is alive."

" Looks like that trip to the infimary back on" Said the voice of the spike haired Warrior...

He tried to see the human face belonging to the voice but he heard or saw no more. Concienciousness claimed him not death this time. Weary and worn out with the horror and the pain he surrendered to the warm welcoming darkness that enfolded him into its black, unfeeling unfeeling depths. As he went down into his depths he thought he heard his Sister's voice calling him from far across cold space with its burning hot stars...Wait he called back I am trying to come home now but there was no more but that unfeeling blackness.

There he stayed in the healing trance of his Kind. Not quite hibernation his pysche body and mind were too ruptured and torn apart for that. He was to hurt to shut down entirely during the terible road to healing. Even the Hunger was so sick, to sick to partake and revel in the fountains of life force that surounded him. It waited for him to heal molecule by molecule, atom by atom, imploding from the healing- such awful healing that he felt every part of as he mended cell by cell.

Time ceased to have any real or rational meaning to him- nor did he care any more- somrtimrd it was dark and sometimes it was light and that was all... Sometimes he rose to full conciencousness to become aware of his surroundings. Sometimes he became aware of the scurryings if humans around him as he lay on their healer's bed. Their administrations seem to come from a misty veiled distance when he could open his eyes. Hands that handled his paralysis with indifference mostly- athough he could feel the hate of one them like a bead of heat in their emotions. Oddly after awhile this became balanced by a human female, one of those who attended to him.

Not liking to be observed she sat by his bed reading from something called a book to him. As though it mattered to him at all. Sometimes she even worked up the nerve to brush his hair for him. As though that mattered. Life was a lifetime away. She thought he did know that she brushed his hair. Nothing really mattered anymore but still she came to read to him and when her fingers accidently brushed his him when did his hair he could feel at first she was nor even sure why she did this either...at first

Time passed and still he could not move. His body was slow to heal, trapped in the cycle of healing and the pain had begun lessen a blessed little. Aware and trapped was what he was as the shell of his body ... In time they put him him in a stasis tube. Where nothing mattered not even the suffering ir the Hunger. They thought they were being kind to him because they believed the sstasis tube had shut down his body until something could be done for him.

Even in the clear prison of the stasis tube he still felt for a long long time.Feeling was the only task his ravaged task could do - its only performance in life. From time to time the human stole up to see him like a ghost in the twilight. Her hands rested on the glass like substance of the stasis tube. She told him how her day had went ...It was mad but after awhile it was like light and sound in the never ending fog of numbness. Her voice in the deathly silence substained him through the empty madness of healing...Then mercifully came the time he heled enough to enter the blessed state of total hibernation- no slow beat of his heart, no feelings of his blood moaning and whispering through his veins, cell by cell in every drop that moved., no screamingbreathe moving, body all unending- stopped as the hibernation took over him and then for a very long time there was nothing at all and that was the way he wanted it. Nothing at all.

He awoke once again, aware of the ghost of the Hunger returning faint as mist over water. He was healed the Hunger was coming back. It had saved him by turning on his pain and feeding from that until he could enter hibernation. Could a Wraith do that- he had just done it. Soon the hunger would want lifeforce to take once again. His hands shot out and encountered a hard surface. They had not buried him alive thinking he was dead. He banged his fists on the glassy textured surface and remembered he was in the stasis tube at last. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the face of the human woman. He heard her shout for aid and in time it came while he searched the wals of the stasis tube for a way free from its confines. By all that he held sacred he could move and he snarled with joy. If only he could go home noe see his Mother and His Sister, yes his father too. Then he could feed until his Hunger was really content.

Very nice ,Kaeyla! I like your story!

[ChelApophis]

i left it on Andee's blog last night.... diplomatically of course


looks who's talking, Miss "I got turned into a wraith twice"


that's what youtube's for babe

Cool! Of course, Lol

[ChelApophis]

takes a moment to look round at all the pictures in amazed confuddlement!!!
(thank you wraithlord for posting link to this thread for me)

that would be great if gabriel and shep met up again. although he may end up dead but hopefully the PTB will recognize his potential and brilliance and he will survive. also the possibility of turning one of the atlantis team into a wraith, didnt that kinda already happen when uberwraith Ellia infected shep with the retrovirus?
shep was turning into a bug and wraith are a cross between bug and human so at some point he would have mutated into a wraith. hhmmm

(wanders off to go sign petition and search for food )

Welcome! Welcome! Glad you've joined us!
Lol , I'm still laughing about your ideea : Wraith and Data!