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    Originally posted by Linzi
    OH yes. Broken legs are really incapacitating, and ultimately it'd mean crutches!
    And a scissors + trousers situation.

    Comment


      Originally posted by Josie
      And a scissors + trousers situation.
      Oh why don't we see this on screen? WHY?
      sigpic

      Comment


        ohhhhh nekkid legs

        By Kidwizz


        By JessM

        Comment


          Ok i"m sure this has been posted before.. but I don't remember so i'm posting it again

          By Kidwizz


          By JessM

          Comment


            Congrats on 2700 Josie!!
            sigpic

            Comment


              Originally posted by Linzi
              OH yes. Broken legs are really incapacitating, and ultimately it'd mean crutches!
              SQUEE crutches would be great!!
              and linzi..we dont get it because its sooooo amazingly beautifully whumpy that they wouldnt do it because we really want it!!!!!
              im hoping in the 2nd half of season 3 we get some amazing shep whump!!!! and a little blood would be nice too

              SIG BY MY SISTER OBSESSED1! WHEN SHEP GOES WHUMP I GO THUNK! My LJ

              Comment


                Originally posted by Alipeeps
                Congrats on 2700 Josie!!
                Thanks Ali, I hadn't even noticed.

                Comment


                  Originally posted by gravelgerdie
                  Ohhh yes Shep whump squeeee

                  Shep hurt, bleeding, in pain, needing help...throw in him being wet with it and what a mixture
                  Gravelgerdie - this is for you (and a little for me while I'm still squeeing about a CG followup). It started out to be just a couple of paragraphs and...well...I got carried away. I hope this isn't too big to be posted directly in the thread...

                  CG FOLLOW-UP FF DRABBLE (spoilers for Sateda and CG):
                  Spoiler:
                  The torrential rain turned out to be a blessing. It washed the mud and blood from his eyes. He needed to be able to see. To anticipate Kolya’s moves, and block them before the man broke any more of his bones.

                  Cradling a useless arm against ribs that protested every breath, John rolled to his back on the sodden ground, searching. Searching for the next foot or fist coming his way. Searching for an opening to land a blow of his own. To end this.

                  He found none.

                  He spit blood, and hacked out a laugh as he dragged himself to hands and knees, then stood swaying on legs about as sturdy as saplings in a hurricane. Now he knew how Ronan had felt, he thought absently, knowing he needed to focus. To concentrate on the fight if he was going to survive. And still he couldn’t stop the random thoughts.

                  Ronan had wanted to kill the Wraith that hunted him himself. He’d told John he’d kill him if John interfered, and at the ferocious look in the Satedan’s eye, he’d had no reason to doubt his friend. Now, months later, John had done the same. Kolya’s was his. And he’d told his team in no uncertain terms what he would do to them if they intervened. He was beginning to doubt the wisdom of that decision.

                  He glanced over to the treeline, where his team stood staring in horror and fascination. Their faces reflected the tension. The guns held tightly before them stated their readiness. But no…he wouldn’t go their. Not yet.

                  Lightning flashed across the dark sky, and Kolya took advantage of the momentary blindness it caused, striking out of nowhere. The boot planted in John’s gut doubled him. Drove every molecule of air from his lungs. A moment later a knee connected with the side of his head and then Kolya grabbed John’s bad arm and twisted, shoving him forward facedown into the mud as white-hot explosions of pain flashed through his mind.

                  As he lay gasping for air, he squeezed his eyes shut and held onto consciousness with a tenuous grip. He tried to rise, to defend himself, but Kolya held him down with a boot on his back, and reached down to pull his head back by a fistful of unruly hair.

                  Instinctively John knew what would come next. He felt Kolya’s other hand reach for his face, knew it would take only a simple twist to snap his neck. With his abused body screaming in protest, John tucked his chin to his chest and rolled, scissoring Kolya’s legs between his own and pulling at his sleeve, dragging him down intot he mud beside him. Blindly he groped the ground, grasping for anything he could use to protect himself. He came up with a rock, and while Kolya’s dark eyes locked on his, he pounded it into the man’s face twice, three times. He heard a screech like that of a wounded animal and some fragment of his brain registered emabarrassment as he realized it had come from him. He pounded the rock down again and again, until Kolya stopped struggling. Until the bloody pulp that had been the man’s face stared up at him sightlessly.

                  Then, chest heaving, John shoved himself to his feet and backed away, still clutching the bloody stone. The world spun, and for a few seconds he couldn’t process rational thoughts, speech. Words. Blood pounded in his ears and dripped from his fingertips. Rage pounded in his heart. A primal cry tore from his chest, and for those few seconds he was more animal than man.

                  He looked over at his team, saw them staring at him in mute horror, and felt bile rise in his throat. His legs buckled and he fell to his hands and knees, shaking. Surely his team would come now. Pick him up. Comfort him. Take him home. But instead he found himself alone in the rain, curled into a fetal ball in the mud, retching up the remnants of the turkey sandwhich he’d had for lunch.

                  He didn’t blame them. Who wouldn’t be afraid of him after what they’d just witnessed?

                  Finally he gathered enough strength to look up. Ronan walked slowly toward Kolya. Battered Kolya. Dead Kolya. Slowly he raised his gun, set it to kill and fired. Repeatedly. John frowned as Kolya’s dead body jerked and then lay still again.

                  Teyla stepped up next, and with eyes as dark and dead as a black hole, fired a burst from her P90 into the dead man’s chest, then stepped back and nodded at Rodney.

                  Rodney’s fingers clenched and unclenched on the Beretta he held outstretched toward the corpse. His throat worked convulsively.

                  Rodney. Poor Rodney, whose nightmares used to consist of such innocuous events as being trapped in small spaces or accidentally eating citrus. Whose self-defense skills once consisted solely of his expert wielding of the fly-swatter in his lab. Now his dreams were haunted by life-sucking aliens, and he could make a headshot with a Beretta at forty yards.

                  Rodney’s trembling stilled. His back straightened, and unloaded the full clip of his 9 millimeter into what was left of Kolya’s head.

                  John looked away, squeezing his eyes shut at the sight of what his friends had become. What he had made them. Then they were next to him. Ronan and Teyla were on either side, each with a hand on his shoulder.

                  “It’s over,” Ronan said.

                  “Kolya will not trouble any of us again,” Teyla added.

                  Rodney just nodded, taking off his jacket, rolling it up and easing it beneath John’s head and looking for all the world more like a battle-hardened warrior than a scientist.

                  A tear mingled with the rain on John’s cheek. “Thanks,” he told them. And then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he let himself slip into unconsciousness, knowing his friends would be there to protect him while he was gone
                  Last edited by WannaBeAWhumper; 01 October 2006, 03:06 PM.


                  Thanks to blingaway for the shiny new siggie!

                  Comment


                    Hi all! *waves madly*

                    CONGRADULATIONS JOSIE 0N 2700 POSTS!!

                    Ooh WannaBe! I got goosebumps! I love that bit about Rodney.
                    sigpic
                    My LJ & Fics * Proud Member of W.A.S.P. * Pay It Forward

                    Comment


                      Originally posted by WannaBeAWhumper
                      Gravelgerdie - this is for you (and a little for me while I'm still squeeing about a CG followup). It started out to be just a couple of paragraphs and...well...I got carried away. I hope this isn't too big to be posted directly in the thread...

                      CG FOLLOW-UP FF DRABBLE:
                      Spoiler:
                      The torrential rain turned out to be a blessing. It washed the mud and blood from his eyes. He needed to be able to see. To anticipate Kolya’s moves, and block them before the man broke any more of his bones.

                      Cradling a useless arm against ribs that protested every breath, John rolled to his back on the sodden ground, searching. Searching for the next foot or fist coming his way. Searching for an opening to land a blow of his own. To end this.

                      He found none.

                      He spit blood, and hacked out a laugh as he dragged himself to hands and knees, then stood swaying on legs about as sturdy as saplings in a hurricane. Now he knew how Ronan had felt, he thought absently, knowing he needed to focus. To concentrate on the fight if he was going to survive. And still he couldn’t stop the random thoughts.

                      Ronan had wanted to kill the Wraith that hunted him himself. He’d told John he’d kill him if John interfered, and at the ferocious look in the Satedan’s eye, he’d had no reason to doubt his friend. Now, months later, John had done the same. Kolya’s was his. And he’d told his team in no uncertain terms what he would do to them if they intervened. He was beginning to doubt the wisdom of that decision.

                      He glanced over to the treeline, where his team stood staring in horror and fascination. Their faces reflected the tension. The guns held tightly before them stated their readiness. But no…he wouldn’t go their. Not yet.

                      Lightning flashed across the dark sky, and Kolya took advantage of the momentary blindness it caused, striking out of nowhere. The boot planted in John’s gut doubled him. Drove every molecule of air from his lungs. A moment later a knee connected with the side of his head and then Kolya grabbed John’s bad arm and twisted, shoving him forward facedown into the mud as white-hot explosions of pain flashed through his mind.

                      As he lay gasping for air, he squeezed his eyes shut and held onto consciousness with a tenuous grip. He tried to rise, to defend himself, but Kolya held him down with a boot on his back, and reached down to pull his head back by a fistful of unruly hair.

                      Instinctively John knew what would come next. He felt Kolya’s other hand reach for his face, knew it would take only a simple twist to snap his neck. With his abused body screaming in protest, John tucked his chin to his chest and rolled, scissoring Kolya’s legs between his own and pulling at his sleeve, dragging him down intot he mud beside him. Blindly he groped the ground, grasping for anything he could use to protect himself. He came up with a rock, and while Kolya’s dark eyes locked on his, he pounded it into the man’s face twice, three times. He heard a screech like that of a wounded animal and some fragment of his brain registered emabarrassment as he realized it had come from him. He pounded the rock down again and again, until Kolya stopped struggling. Until the bloody pulp that had been the man’s face stared up at him sightlessly.

                      Then, chest heaving, John shoved himself to his feet and backed away, still clutching the bloody stone. The world spun, and for a few seconds he couldn’t process rational thoughts, speech. Words. Blood pounded in his ears and dripped from his fingertips. Rage pounded in his heart. A primal cry tore from his chest, and for those few seconds he was more animal than man.

                      He looked over at his team, saw them staring at him in mute horror, and felt bile rise in his throat. His legs buckled and he fell to his hands and knees, shaking. Surely his team would come now. Pick him up. Comfort him. Take him home. But instead he found himself alone in the rain, curled into a fetal ball in the mud, retching up the remnants of the turkey sandwhich he’d had for lunch.

                      He didn’t blame them. Who wouldn’t be afraid of him after what they’d just witnessed?

                      Finally he gathered enough strength to look up. Ronan walked slowly toward Kolya. Battered Kolya. Dead Kolya. Slowly he raised his gun, set it to kill and fired. Repeatedly. John frowned as Kolya’s dead body jerked and then lay still again.

                      Teyla stepped up next, and with eyes as dark and dead as a black hole, fired a burst from her P90 into the dead man’s chest, then stepped back and nodded at Rodney.

                      Rodney’s fingers clenched and unclenched on the Beretta he held outstretched toward the corpse. His throat worked convulsively.

                      Rodney. Poor Rodney, whose nightmares used to consist of such innocuous events as being trapped in small spaces or accidentally eating citrus. Whose self-defense skills once consisted solely of his expert wielding of the fly-swatter in his lab. Now his dreams were haunted by life-sucking aliens, and he could make a headshot with a Beretta at forty yards.

                      Rodney’s trembling stilled. His back straightened, and unloaded the full clip of his 9 millimeter into what was left of Kolya’s head.

                      John looked away, squeezing his eyes shut at the sight of what his friends had become. What he had made them. Then they were next to him. Ronan and Teyla were on either side, each with a hand on his shoulder.

                      “It’s over,” Ronan said.

                      “Kolya will not trouble any of us again,” Teyla added.

                      Rodney just nodded, taking off his jacket, rolling it up and easing it beneath John’s head and looking for all the world more like a battle-hardened warrior than a scientist.

                      A tear mingled with the rain on John’s cheek. “Thanks,” he told them. And then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he let himself slip into unconsciousness, knowing his friends would be there to protect him while he was gone
                      Ooooh lovely! Just needs a nice infirmary scene to finish it off... *grin*
                      sigpic

                      Comment


                        Helllooooooooooooooooooooooo whumpers,
                        back from the pub, feeling a litle worse for wear i might add but then thats drinking for you,

                        i'm gojng to be annoying...what have i missed

                        Comment


                          Originally posted by obsessed1
                          Helllooooooooooooooooooooooo whumpers,
                          back from the pub, feeling a litle worse for wear i might add but then thats drinking for you,

                          i'm gojng to be annoying...what have i missed
                          I'm sure you're not going to be annoying infact dodgy drunken spelling and typos can be pretty entertaining.

                          Comment


                            Originally posted by Josie
                            I'm sure you're not going to be annoying infact dodgy drunken spelling and typos can be pretty entertaining.
                            I've had eight vodkas and lemon and lime.....there wsa a pub quiz and we joined forces with another team.........*shakes head* desperately trying to sober up

                            And me.....never annoying

                            Comment


                              Oh and Josie congradulations on 2700 posts...thats dedication to the cause of whump

                              Comment


                                Originally posted by obsessed1
                                I've had eight vodkas and lemon and lime.....there wsa a pub quiz and we joined forces with another team.........*shakes head* desperately trying to sober up

                                And me.....never annoying
                                EIGHT!?! Wow...is the room spinning? I don't know how you can even hold your head up long enough to look at the computer. Much less read.

                                Mostly we've just squeed about the UK con that some people are going to in exactly four weeks, and speculated about the episode that Ken C. is pitching to the PTB, which is supposed to be a follow-up to CG,
                                Spoiler:
                                including the Wraith
                                .

                                WannaBe


                                Thanks to blingaway for the shiny new siggie!

                                Comment

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