The long-languishing piece of Arc One. I need to get Dee past "what was he doing here?" and on into "I need to be nosy" and she's not being at all cooperative. On the other hand, I'm feeling better about my Baltar. Yay for that.

Read more... )
Okay. You REALLY have got to sit down and try and figure out what you're trying to say about reproductive rights and reproduction in general. I mean...that really leads into Arc Two (should I ever be so insane to get there, and should I ever quite figure out what Arc Two is about). But that's really sort of the underpinning of Arc Two, so...yeah. Need to get on that.
He isn't sleepy.

Nonetheless, Felix throws himself onto his rack and pulls the curtain shut. He vibrates like a tuning fork, and he's afraid if he doesn't get away from everyone, he's going to scream. Inside, he's...empty. An aching void that seems to go deeper than the blank slate of his memory. He wants to believe it will fade, as he builds new memories to bridge the gap, finds his place again and stops missing the beat, but he doesn't believe it. Not for one second and any amount of telling himself otherwise.

Something's missing. Something's gone. And he doesn't cry...but he wants to.

That's the worst part; it feels like some protective membrane's been skinned from him, leaving what's left pink and vulnerable to the touch, every emotion brought to the surface. His skin is very, very thin.

He stares at the network of rubberized straps that crisscross the rack above his. Most officers and noncoms use that space as an informal bulletin board; a place to store pictures, old letters and postcards, small mementos of beads, feathers, or flowers, depending on the trend at the time. Felix has always left his bare. Her rationalized it by telling himself that it's a neater, more professional look; that he dislikes clutter; that it helps keep his mind focused. But the truth is that there was very little of his life prior to Galactica that he wanted to remember.

But that desire had been predicated on the assumption that the rest of the world would still be there, not as it is now--solely encapsulated and captured by these last absurd artifacts. His regret aches within him like a rotted tooth, and I'm sorry; I didn't know is a woefully inadequate excuse, not even enough to camouflage this chasm of grief.

But as he thinks it, he glimpses something off in the upper right hand corner. A fleck of paleness, obvious against gunmetal gray, tucked and almost hidden beneath one of the straps. Felix reaches up and tugs it cautiously free, wondering if this is another of Dee's help aids to get him through this awful time of imbalance. It's a ragged scrap of hard copy, no longer or wider than his forefinger, indented with writing he can't read.

Felix sits up a little and pushes his curtain back far enough to admit a sliver of hard edged light. He flinches from its brightness, but still angles the little piece of paper into it. There are words on the paper, handwritten of all things, in writing he recognizes as his own. He squints--his writing is very small, and so is the piece of hard copy--and brings it closer to his face.

It says:
Don't forget.
Anastasia Dualla is in love with you.

His fingers tighten on the paper almost hard enough to tear it and he feels the rhythm of his heart knock and speed. There is a part of him that knows--without question--that he believes it. The rest of him is afraid to.

He turns the scrap over, trying to see if there's any other clue to what was going through his mind, like maybe a ha ha, just kidding, you gigantic idiot. There is writing on the back as well. He pauses a moment, unsure, then angles it to the light again.

It says:
You love her too.

Felix's breath goes out of him in a exhalation so deep it leaves him dizzy. Slowly, he slides back down to stare at the rack above him again, the paper cupped carefully in his palm, and wonders what he's going to do about this information.
According to [ profile] sixersfan, the main obstacle to brain remapping would be that - as far as we can tell - memory seems to be cached in the brain at random, thus making it difficult to pinpoint any particular one.

However, I feel pretty confident that Felix would look at this as an acceptable risk. Otherwise, his prospects are:

At best, removed from duty as a security risk and either confined/imprisoned or closely scrutinized for the rest of his life.

At worst, he'll be branded a Cylon collaborator and executed.

Either of those options are pretty intolerable, especially to someone so duty bound as Felix. He'd totally take the potential lobotomy.
Disclaimer to self: You do not know enough about the some research.

Okay; hand-waving the science I don't know... Potentially, if they remap Felix's brain, it would 'reset' to whatever it was when the scan was taken (Galactica was about to be decommissioned; would they have had phyicals for their outmuster? If so, that means Felix wouldn't lose everything from his tenure on Galactica (or his last physical)). He'd lose everything else. Dee would probably put a primer together to fill him in on everything that's happened in the meantime and babysit him through the gaps.


Dee hesitates, her stylus hovering over the pad. We started frakking seems so bald, not to mention inappropriate, and she can't think of any good way to soften it. Not to mention she questions whether it belongs in here at all--this sketchy fill in the blanks narrative. Everything about them as lovers, a clandestine couple, is inappropriate, and as reliant as Felix is on duty, she knows that's caused him a certain amount of pain. She can only imagine what his reaction would be if she wrote in her secondary thought of, I think I love you.

That produces a smile that lets her ignore the stinging wetness of her eyes and the lone tear that escapes her to splash on the console. They'll be plenty of time later, she tells herself. When he's ready to hear it. She doesn't want to contemplate the possibility that he'll never be, though it lodges in her chest like a jagged fragment of ice.

If it's meant to be, he'll come back to you, the voice of her grandmother soothes from memory, and--closing the file and shutting down the pad--Dee tells herself she'll have to be content with that.


She can tell when he gets to the part about the documentary, because he unbuttons his jacket and pulls his tanks aside to gape at the tiger inked there in all its glory. Then he looks at her. "I didn't," he says.

"You did." She nods with mock regret. "But you were very drunk."

"Oh gods." Felix hides his face in his hands, and she tries not to care that he's sitting there with his jacket open and the smell of his skin rising to her nostrils.


"So..." Felix swallows hard with a noise like a click. "Everything? Everything's just...gone?"

There hasn't been much time to think about it, process it, internalize it, but Felix has had even less, in this new incarnation. It hasn't been months for him anymore. It's today. And now, because she's here to share this with him, its suddenly today again for her too. She feels shaky and teary, all at once, but she manages to nod and scrape out a simple, "Yeah."

The color sucks out of his skin and his eyes are suddenly brilliant, magnified by the tears in them. "I... I... Gods..., he chokes and he lowers his head into his hands and cries. Felix has a sort of post-hypnotic suggestion in his brain with an active psychic element to it; the same method that Six uses to communicate with Baltar. The question still do you dig it out? How do you even show something like that is there?

Look on the net for any "actual" or hypothesized brain wave activity while psychic abilities are in progress. Does a certain part of the brain 'light up'?

Rewatch ep where Baltar has brain scan.
Should I introduce Baltar as a POV character?

Is he going to become important enough to merit more than one POV in the whole work?
Is it too late to introduce a new POV? The fic has pretty much run between Gaeta & Dee's POV.
Do I want to add his POV just as a cop-out, to express ideas I can't get to through Gaeta's POV?
Yes and no.

Shelley imprinted Felix with something like a post-hypnotic suggestion, but one that's "active" rather than passive; one that DOES have actual mind to mind contact. This is the same as how Six talks to Baltar. How? No one knows. *hand waves the science* The question is how do I get to this information WITHOUT introducing Baltar as a POV character?

Secondarily, how does one BREAK the connection?

It's going to be extremely important that no one finds out that this happened to Felix, because even if they could guarantee that the link's really broken (and they can't), tactically it would be too expensive to leave him in any position of trust or power. He would HAVE to be removed from duty, and that would kill him. The job is all he has. (Dee thinks about this, and a part of her thinks that at least it would solve the problem of their fraternization, and then she feels bad for having such a selfish thought.)

Felix gets injured in the Pegasus's attack on Galactica. He's going to be under some heavy drugs; this is how Dee finds out what's happening to him.

Not sure when or how to work this in the Arc, but the Cylons are not cohesive. Within the larger destroy-all-humans movement is a secondary we-have-to-get-along-with-humanity movement. Six represents the get-alongs. Shelley Godfrey represents the DAH.

It would be nice to give Dee more to worry about than her attachment to Felix; I feel like I'm marginalizing her. Of course, at a certain point, she carries the action because of it, trying to save Felix & his career.

I think I need Baltar. It would make a second mirror of Lovers; Baltar & Six. Baltar helps Dee discover a way to break the post-hypnotic suggestion Shelley implanted. Six comments that she supposes now that he knows how to do it, he'll excise her. Baltar tells her he has no intention of doing any such thing. Awwww....



August 2009

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