[For Elizabeth]
not expecting that
feltgoodthough
Ronon kept his eyes open on the island the same as any new planet even though he'd been her some time now. It wasn't like any other world he'd ever been too and not just because he couldn't leave.

It was his observation that had found him at the previously ignored bookcase in the compound. He'd just been passing through after walking up with Jennifer when she had a clinic shift. It had caught his eye because of something familar. A flash of a Satedan glyph. Investigating - snatching the thing off the shelf had revealed a book of Satedan war poems. One Ronon knew well - he'd drunkenly recited the entirety of one of the sagas after to equally drunken crowd after his first successful off world mission as a Specialist.

It was one of the books that he had brought to Atlantis when he had scavenged what was left of Sateda. He had not expected that the bookshelf - however strange it was would give him books from a dead world and even though he knew most of it by rote - he sat down to read it anyway.
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From the 'between the lines' meme:

What this meme is all about is expanding on that, to better create a personal history that you can then use to better build personal development. To paraphrase Lindsay, "it's not intended to be a way of avoiding/handwaving actual threads but rather a way of kickstarting them and getting a better idea of where our characters stand with each other. It's a small island, and it's likely that a lot of our pups have interacted, maybe in little ways." The details can be silly or trivial (They see each other at breakfast everyday), or a shared anecdote (Remember that time when they got attacked by the angry parrot?), or the seeds of a bigger plot to be played out later.
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[For Sheppard] Sparring cures sleeplessness.
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It was cooler on the island at night but Ronon wasn't sleeping. He was used enough to the quiet sounds of New Atlantis at night that he could have been. It took next to nothing to wake him, but there weren't many places he couldn't sleep.

He could hear Sheppard being restless from a hut away - not that it was entirely unfamiliar to him anyway. He gave it a while and shifted out of the makeshift bed in his new hut when it was obvious it was going to continue. Not if Ronon could help it.

"Sheppard," he said leaning against the door of John's hut. "Come on out, I can hear you're awake." If Ronon had to take John jogging at night to tire him out enough to sleep - then he would. But there were other alternatives.
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earnest
feltgoodthough
Ronon wasn't sorry that John's clone was gone - he knew he wasn't a clone, not the way the term was normally used. He just looked like John and Ronon probably wouldn't have cared if not for the strangeness of the idea he could be friends with such a person. He'd have been happy to just ignore him once it was certain he wasn't a replicator.

He'd have been happy enough to ignore Jennifer's look a like as well and he was fairly certain she would have been glad to ignore him to given their initial meeting. But if someone Kaylee knew had arrived and threatened Jennifer, Ronon knew how he would have reacted. So today found him sitting outside the beat up space ship he'd been told she resided at, sharpening a knife with a small whet stone and waiting to make amends.
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open shirt, impatient
feltgoodthough
Though Ronon had not especially been looking forward to the party or a New Year that involved being stuck here, he had not envisaged it would end like this. After watching Jennifer drench herself in champagne, he had seen confirmation of the custom Vala had told him about and when looking for Jennifer - just in case he'd come across her and John Sheppard. Really really drunk John Sheppard.

Which was not, strictly speaking, without it's entertainment value in itself. He shrugged off his suit jacket and shoved it at Jennifer, "put that on." he told her - he might only have a shirt but it was at least a dry one.

Of course some traditions were the same everywhere. "You," he told John, "are going home." John however was having none of it and when Ronon picked him up off the couch it became obvious why. He'd been sitting on Carson who was clutching a bottle of alcohol - the sort which uncomfortably Ronon had last seen at Carson's funeral. "And you," he added hauling him up too and staggering slightly because they were struggling. He tried not to feel too annoyed as he dragged them to the door. When Ronon got drunk he had the decency to be happy about being carried home.

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Nothing much has changed beside me having a new pup!Collapse )

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something to point a gun at
feltgoodthough
Ronon would never have said it to Heightmeyer or the woman who eventually replaced her who he had also been obliged to talk to on occasion (for a given value of talk). But every time he ran, every time he shifted his posture, picked up the pace and moved at speed, he could feel the Wraith at his back whether they were there or not. Running through the city levels with Sheppard, running through the buildings of Earth that mirrored Sateda just enough to make him think, racing back to the Jumper laying down cover fire. Ronon could feel the adrenaline race through him, his hands itching for a weapon even when he was already holding one. Ronon was no longer a runner – but he became one every time he ran. He'd mostly stopped wondering if that would ever change.

However it was not inaccurate to say that even now long after he has stopped being a runner that the Wraith had often been at his back. Right now - as he dodged through the empty corridors of the Daedalus trying not to think of Jennifer's stubborn, stupid sacrifice which he should have seen coming - that was certainly the case. Todd would kill her, Ronon was sure. Never trust a Wraith and right now Ronon had had enough of running as he had so many times before. He would stand, he would fight, Wraith would die and as he listened to the footsteps of drones and a prisoner, he realised he could do a little more good at the same time.

He ducked into an armoury and grabbed a extra gun.

The next bit was more complicated but whatever the reason for the design, the hand holds in the ceiling were thankfully obvious. He clambered up bracing himself. Now it was just a matter of waiting and he did not have long endure inactivity long. He shot quickly as he swung down before the orientation of the angle could confuse his aim and handed the spare gun off to Jennifer, dampening down his surprised relief that she wasn't dead because there were still drones coming.

Then there weren't. There weren't live drones. There wasn't Jennifer. There was no more Daedalus. There were trees, there was snow on the ground, two prone Wraith drones and the gun he had handed her lying on the jungle floor. One Wraith twitched and instinctively he put another blast of energy into it before bending to check they both were dead. He snatched up the machine gun and examined the area. There were no tracks. None. Snow normally made tracking easy - and this didn't look that freshly fallen.

Ronon had never seen Wraith tech that could do this and were normally incapable of using anything ancestral. But there was little he put past them even this had been an odd moment to try it. Todd had already betrayed them.

"Jennifer?" he called, first outloud and then into his static filled ear piece, receiving no response. He shivered, shrugged, armed his energy weapon picked a direction and set off at pace. Running again.

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