Entry tags:
hl/efc bit
Also at AO3.
Da'an, Boone noted with amusement, was sitting on the grass. His knees were bent, halfway to his chest, his feet spread on the hillside below him, in apparent mimicry of the human man seated next to him. However, where the human comfortably slouched forward, resting his elbows on his knees, Da'an was serenely ramrod straight, as if in meditation, his long hands folded elegantly on his abbreviated lap.
"Da'an," said Boone, by way of greeting. He put his hands on his hips, pushing his jacket back: it made his sleeves hitch at the elbow just enough to show his skrill at the wrist in a subtle warning to the stranger. "Who's your friend?" he asked lightly.
"Dr. Adam Pierson," Da'an replied. To Pierson, he added, "And this is my protector, William Boone."
The cadence of Da'an's speech placed a pause after "Doctor," as if he'd forgotten the man's name momentarily, or as if he was stressing Pierson's position. Boone wasn't quite sure there was any significance to it at all, aside from that Taelons took their time with words, but he nonetheless asked, "Doctor? Of medicine?" as he leaned forward to offer his hand to Pierson.
"Archaeology," Pierson corrected laconically, unfolding his arm to return the handshake. His glance flicked down to Boone's skrill briefly, but this seemed more a polite acknowledgement of Boone's display than any actual apprehension at the implicit threat. The handshake was firm and dry, and he released Boone's hand after only a moment. "That's my site the other two of you've decided Ma'el's buried in." His accent, Boone realized, wasn't native to the region--it sounded more Welsh.
Boone smiled sourly at being lumped in with Sandoval and Beckett. "My apologies," he said. "I heard how they commandeered it. I'm sure the situation could have been handled more--diplomatically."
"I really don't see why I need to be 'handled' at all," Pierson answered sharply, "seeing as I can read the runes."
"The runes," Boone repeated carefully, looking to Da'an. Da'an looked back calmly.
"Yeah, well, what they've shown of the mosaic in the papers, anyway," Pierson replied.
"The writing's Taelon," Boone said, again looking to Da'an for confirmation. Da'an gave a regal tilt of his head.
"Taelon it may or may not be," Pierson said. "All I know is it's an ancient language the Druid priests used for their most holy work. Church Latin for the Celtic set."
"And you speak it?" Boone asked disbelievingly.
"'Speak' might be a stretch," Pierson said, grinning now, "but I can translate it, anyway."
Boone's curiosity was piqued. He would have really liked to question this man in private, see if he could recruit him to the Resistance, but Da'an had found him first, so Boone would have to test him here. Boone unclipped his global from his belt and opened the screen, calling up the recording he'd made of the mosaic. "The line of writing across the top, there," he suggested, holding the global out to Pierson. "What does that say?"
Pierson accepted the global and studied the image. He cleared his throat. "'Rejoice, my--' Hm. Familial relations of equal status... ordinarily, I'd translate that 'brethren,' but it's got gender suffixes out the arse. Neuter, masculine, feminine, a half a dozen extra I can't fathom... How many of you lot does it take to put together a baby?" he asked Da'an with mild annoyance.
To Boone's surprise, Da'an answered the question seriously. "I had one parent. My child has two."
"Huh," said Pierson, his eyebrows raised.
"And how many of your kind is required to 'put together a baby'?" Da'an asked pleasantly. Boone snorted. Oh, boy, Da'an was just full of surprises today--he must like this guy.
Pierson stared at Da'an a moment, grinning as he realized he was being teased. "Couldn't honestly tell you. I never knew my parents--or parent, as the case may very well be--and I've never had any children of my own siring." He shook his head and looked back down at the global. "'Rejoice, my siblings--' That's awkward, but I suppose it'll do for the moment-- 'for I have borne--' No, that's not quite right. 'For I have created a... human son....'" He trailed off thoughtfully. "Oh, I see. They're not all gender suffixes, are they? Some of them are sexuality suffixes. Fa shi'in, fa shi'ir, fa shi'il... Attracted to the androgynous, attracted to women, attracted to men?"
"Yes," Da'an answered, sounding pleased.
"'Rejoice, my family of assorted genders and sexual proclivities,'" Pierson read, sounding amused. "Do you all announce this way?"
"It was more common in Ma'el's time," Da'an answered, "though some of us still do so."
"Oh? And how do you call yourself?" Pierson asked. He wet his lip with his tongue, and Boone could have almost sworn he was flirting with Da'an.
Boone paused to wonder whether Companion protection meant guarding his charge's chastity as well as his physical safety.
"In recent years, I have all too often been Da'an na'at," Da'an replied with the faintest hint of regret in his tone.
Boone recognized the "-at" suffix, a version of the negative, which Pierson apparently took to mean "celibate," because he said, "A lovely being like you? Surely not!"
"But of late," Da'an went on, "I have become Da'an na'ar ra'al fa sha'an fa sha'al fa sha'ar fa sha'ami'ero'ha'ash."
Neuter, male, and female, as well as attracted to everything and the kitchen sink? Boone thought incredulously. Taelons had a fondness for speaking of multiple, simultaneous, contradictory states, but how could Da'an be all genders at once? And that last bit--Boone was still trying to sort out what "ami'ero'ha'ash" was. "Ami'e" was an informal term for "human," and "ash" was a diminutive, but the rest--
"Meaty," Pierson mumbled, apparently working on the same phrase. Then: "Oh. Enjoying our stay on Earth, are we?"
"It is a pleasant planet," Da'an answered, smiling.
The last syllable clicked, and Boone asked incredulously, "Furry, meaty, little humans?"
"It is an affectionate descriptor," Da'an replied calmly.
"For a pet, maybe," said Boone, and this for some reason sent Pierson into hysterics. He lay back against the hill, howling with laughter, and Boone couldn't pick one of them to glare at. "Furry, meaty, little humans, Da'an?"
"It is your physical presence which makes you fascinating to one such as I," Da'an informed him, momentarily dropping his 'skin' to remind Boone of the fleshless energy beneath.
"Still," said Pierson, pushing himself up, "it has something of a slang ring to it...?"
"The phrase is of recent origin," Da'an acknowledged, "though, I begin to suspect, the concept is not."
"Hm?" Pierson asked, glancing back at the screen of the global. "'For I have created a human--bisexual slut of a son--'"
"Slut?" Boone asked sardonically. Pierson was enjoying the suffixes way too much.
"It's an affectionate descriptor," Pierson answered innocently.
"I believe the phrase most literally translates, 'sworn to many,'" Da'an corrected, leaning slightly to look at the global. "Which carries a different connotation."
"My bad," Pierson answered gleefully. "'A human, bisexual, promiscuous son who shall be the--' I want to say 'keeper,' but that's not quite right. 'Guardian,' maybe. 'Who shall be the guardian of my qui--' Hm. 'My life force'?"
Da'an tilted his head in a half-nod, and Pierson continued, "'My life force, when I am dead. His name is--'" Pierson paused, his face showing fierce concentration. "Huh, that's transliterated Greek, I think. 'His name is Thought, for he is my--' Oh, that's clever. 'For he is my brainchild, born of the processes of my mind and the methodology of--' I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that 'apothecary' is a euphemism for 'experimental research,' because I can't imagine making a son out of well-crushed herbs."
Da'an had looked up from the global and was watching Pierson intently. Pierson, for his part, seemed too absorbed to notice the attention. Boone began to wonder if he should have given Pierson this passage to translate.
"'If you call him by this true name,'" Pierson continued, with notably fewer asides, as if he were rushing to be done, "'he shall return to you my life force, and I shall return to the--family.'"
"'Commonality,'" Da'an corrected.
"'Commonality,'" Pierson repeated. "Any other quibbles?"
"Only one," Da'an answered, "here." His hand drifted over the global controls, rewinding the recording. "Where a word becomes a name, it is not translated. 'His name is Metheus--'"
"Methos," Pierson interrupted.
Da'an paused. "The spelling indicates--"
"Yeah, well, transliteration's a bitch," said Pierson. His tone had lost its friendly banter--he seemed scared now, and Boone couldn't figure out why. "People are still mispronouncing 'Kirke' as 'Circe' because of how the Romans did the Odyssey."
"Methos," Da'an repeated hesitantly.
"Yes," Pierson said flatly. He snapped the global shut and handed it to Boone. "Satisfied?"
"Yeah," Boone said slowly, confused by Pierson's abrupt withdrawal. "Would you be interested in doing more work on the mosaic? And Ma'el's tomb, when we find it?"
"I find," Pierson said, standing and brushing grass off his pants, "that I am more interested in human history. Good day." With that, he stepped around Boone and made his way down the hill.
"Did I offend him in some manner?" Da'an asked, sounding regretful.
"I don't know," Boone said, just as baffled. "He seemed like he was enjoying himself, earlier. That was... weird. Do you want me to check out his background?"
"That would be most appreciated," Da'an replied.
"Anytime," Boone answered, stepping forward and offering Da'an his hand to help him up. "Only, I'm gonna be annoyed if it turns out I looked him up just so you can hit on him, huh?"
Da'an straightened slowly, still holding Boone's hand. Gazing at Boone with wide eyes, he said, "I cannot imagine what you mean."
Da'an, Boone noted with amusement, was sitting on the grass. His knees were bent, halfway to his chest, his feet spread on the hillside below him, in apparent mimicry of the human man seated next to him. However, where the human comfortably slouched forward, resting his elbows on his knees, Da'an was serenely ramrod straight, as if in meditation, his long hands folded elegantly on his abbreviated lap.
"Da'an," said Boone, by way of greeting. He put his hands on his hips, pushing his jacket back: it made his sleeves hitch at the elbow just enough to show his skrill at the wrist in a subtle warning to the stranger. "Who's your friend?" he asked lightly.
"Dr. Adam Pierson," Da'an replied. To Pierson, he added, "And this is my protector, William Boone."
The cadence of Da'an's speech placed a pause after "Doctor," as if he'd forgotten the man's name momentarily, or as if he was stressing Pierson's position. Boone wasn't quite sure there was any significance to it at all, aside from that Taelons took their time with words, but he nonetheless asked, "Doctor? Of medicine?" as he leaned forward to offer his hand to Pierson.
"Archaeology," Pierson corrected laconically, unfolding his arm to return the handshake. His glance flicked down to Boone's skrill briefly, but this seemed more a polite acknowledgement of Boone's display than any actual apprehension at the implicit threat. The handshake was firm and dry, and he released Boone's hand after only a moment. "That's my site the other two of you've decided Ma'el's buried in." His accent, Boone realized, wasn't native to the region--it sounded more Welsh.
Boone smiled sourly at being lumped in with Sandoval and Beckett. "My apologies," he said. "I heard how they commandeered it. I'm sure the situation could have been handled more--diplomatically."
"I really don't see why I need to be 'handled' at all," Pierson answered sharply, "seeing as I can read the runes."
"The runes," Boone repeated carefully, looking to Da'an. Da'an looked back calmly.
"Yeah, well, what they've shown of the mosaic in the papers, anyway," Pierson replied.
"The writing's Taelon," Boone said, again looking to Da'an for confirmation. Da'an gave a regal tilt of his head.
"Taelon it may or may not be," Pierson said. "All I know is it's an ancient language the Druid priests used for their most holy work. Church Latin for the Celtic set."
"And you speak it?" Boone asked disbelievingly.
"'Speak' might be a stretch," Pierson said, grinning now, "but I can translate it, anyway."
Boone's curiosity was piqued. He would have really liked to question this man in private, see if he could recruit him to the Resistance, but Da'an had found him first, so Boone would have to test him here. Boone unclipped his global from his belt and opened the screen, calling up the recording he'd made of the mosaic. "The line of writing across the top, there," he suggested, holding the global out to Pierson. "What does that say?"
Pierson accepted the global and studied the image. He cleared his throat. "'Rejoice, my--' Hm. Familial relations of equal status... ordinarily, I'd translate that 'brethren,' but it's got gender suffixes out the arse. Neuter, masculine, feminine, a half a dozen extra I can't fathom... How many of you lot does it take to put together a baby?" he asked Da'an with mild annoyance.
To Boone's surprise, Da'an answered the question seriously. "I had one parent. My child has two."
"Huh," said Pierson, his eyebrows raised.
"And how many of your kind is required to 'put together a baby'?" Da'an asked pleasantly. Boone snorted. Oh, boy, Da'an was just full of surprises today--he must like this guy.
Pierson stared at Da'an a moment, grinning as he realized he was being teased. "Couldn't honestly tell you. I never knew my parents--or parent, as the case may very well be--and I've never had any children of my own siring." He shook his head and looked back down at the global. "'Rejoice, my siblings--' That's awkward, but I suppose it'll do for the moment-- 'for I have borne--' No, that's not quite right. 'For I have created a... human son....'" He trailed off thoughtfully. "Oh, I see. They're not all gender suffixes, are they? Some of them are sexuality suffixes. Fa shi'in, fa shi'ir, fa shi'il... Attracted to the androgynous, attracted to women, attracted to men?"
"Yes," Da'an answered, sounding pleased.
"'Rejoice, my family of assorted genders and sexual proclivities,'" Pierson read, sounding amused. "Do you all announce this way?"
"It was more common in Ma'el's time," Da'an answered, "though some of us still do so."
"Oh? And how do you call yourself?" Pierson asked. He wet his lip with his tongue, and Boone could have almost sworn he was flirting with Da'an.
Boone paused to wonder whether Companion protection meant guarding his charge's chastity as well as his physical safety.
"In recent years, I have all too often been Da'an na'at," Da'an replied with the faintest hint of regret in his tone.
Boone recognized the "-at" suffix, a version of the negative, which Pierson apparently took to mean "celibate," because he said, "A lovely being like you? Surely not!"
"But of late," Da'an went on, "I have become Da'an na'ar ra'al fa sha'an fa sha'al fa sha'ar fa sha'ami'ero'ha'ash."
Neuter, male, and female, as well as attracted to everything and the kitchen sink? Boone thought incredulously. Taelons had a fondness for speaking of multiple, simultaneous, contradictory states, but how could Da'an be all genders at once? And that last bit--Boone was still trying to sort out what "ami'ero'ha'ash" was. "Ami'e" was an informal term for "human," and "ash" was a diminutive, but the rest--
"Meaty," Pierson mumbled, apparently working on the same phrase. Then: "Oh. Enjoying our stay on Earth, are we?"
"It is a pleasant planet," Da'an answered, smiling.
The last syllable clicked, and Boone asked incredulously, "Furry, meaty, little humans?"
"It is an affectionate descriptor," Da'an replied calmly.
"For a pet, maybe," said Boone, and this for some reason sent Pierson into hysterics. He lay back against the hill, howling with laughter, and Boone couldn't pick one of them to glare at. "Furry, meaty, little humans, Da'an?"
"It is your physical presence which makes you fascinating to one such as I," Da'an informed him, momentarily dropping his 'skin' to remind Boone of the fleshless energy beneath.
"Still," said Pierson, pushing himself up, "it has something of a slang ring to it...?"
"The phrase is of recent origin," Da'an acknowledged, "though, I begin to suspect, the concept is not."
"Hm?" Pierson asked, glancing back at the screen of the global. "'For I have created a human--bisexual slut of a son--'"
"Slut?" Boone asked sardonically. Pierson was enjoying the suffixes way too much.
"It's an affectionate descriptor," Pierson answered innocently.
"I believe the phrase most literally translates, 'sworn to many,'" Da'an corrected, leaning slightly to look at the global. "Which carries a different connotation."
"My bad," Pierson answered gleefully. "'A human, bisexual, promiscuous son who shall be the--' I want to say 'keeper,' but that's not quite right. 'Guardian,' maybe. 'Who shall be the guardian of my qui--' Hm. 'My life force'?"
Da'an tilted his head in a half-nod, and Pierson continued, "'My life force, when I am dead. His name is--'" Pierson paused, his face showing fierce concentration. "Huh, that's transliterated Greek, I think. 'His name is Thought, for he is my--' Oh, that's clever. 'For he is my brainchild, born of the processes of my mind and the methodology of--' I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that 'apothecary' is a euphemism for 'experimental research,' because I can't imagine making a son out of well-crushed herbs."
Da'an had looked up from the global and was watching Pierson intently. Pierson, for his part, seemed too absorbed to notice the attention. Boone began to wonder if he should have given Pierson this passage to translate.
"'If you call him by this true name,'" Pierson continued, with notably fewer asides, as if he were rushing to be done, "'he shall return to you my life force, and I shall return to the--family.'"
"'Commonality,'" Da'an corrected.
"'Commonality,'" Pierson repeated. "Any other quibbles?"
"Only one," Da'an answered, "here." His hand drifted over the global controls, rewinding the recording. "Where a word becomes a name, it is not translated. 'His name is Metheus--'"
"Methos," Pierson interrupted.
Da'an paused. "The spelling indicates--"
"Yeah, well, transliteration's a bitch," said Pierson. His tone had lost its friendly banter--he seemed scared now, and Boone couldn't figure out why. "People are still mispronouncing 'Kirke' as 'Circe' because of how the Romans did the Odyssey."
"Methos," Da'an repeated hesitantly.
"Yes," Pierson said flatly. He snapped the global shut and handed it to Boone. "Satisfied?"
"Yeah," Boone said slowly, confused by Pierson's abrupt withdrawal. "Would you be interested in doing more work on the mosaic? And Ma'el's tomb, when we find it?"
"I find," Pierson said, standing and brushing grass off his pants, "that I am more interested in human history. Good day." With that, he stepped around Boone and made his way down the hill.
"Did I offend him in some manner?" Da'an asked, sounding regretful.
"I don't know," Boone said, just as baffled. "He seemed like he was enjoying himself, earlier. That was... weird. Do you want me to check out his background?"
"That would be most appreciated," Da'an replied.
"Anytime," Boone answered, stepping forward and offering Da'an his hand to help him up. "Only, I'm gonna be annoyed if it turns out I looked him up just so you can hit on him, huh?"
Da'an straightened slowly, still holding Boone's hand. Gazing at Boone with wide eyes, he said, "I cannot imagine what you mean."

no subject
[howls with laughter] Loved this! And the ending was a nice twist. That would seriously freak poor Methos out.
no subject
I know. My muse is shakin' in his boots. In addition to the "I'm an *alien*?" thing, he's also deeply concerned by this idea of returning a quickening, because the only way he know of passing a quickening along is losing his head. Which he'd like to keep attached. *G*
no subject
Highlander 2: The Quickening, anyone?
no subject
*cracking up* People have been telling me what to and not to count as canon. I'd been following advice and just not looking at that. But now that I know... Oh dear, that's hilarious.
no subject
So, gimme a sequel!!!!!!!!!!
Please!!!!!!!!!
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
This cheered me up.
you horrible bitch. I was wallowing!
no subject
YAY!!!
I love you. I want to have your childre of many genders and sexual proclivities!
That. Was. AWESOME. *adores you*
Re: YAY!!!