[The images pass by in rapid succession, out of order and in tight glimpses, at first. Memories of the Barge are indiscriminately mixed with memories of his own universe, so the patten of faces that flit by are equally mixed between humans, human-like aliens, and entirely alien creatures. At first, they come and go so quickly that determining recent past from long past is impossible.
Then, bit by bit, they begin to slow down.
John Crichton is predictably the first clear and present memory: he always seems to be lurking in the forefront of Scorpius' mind, but here on the viewer he is looking less healthy than he ever has on the Barge with burst blood vessels in his eyes, a thick sheen of sweat covering most of his forehead. Here, their positions are reversed. Scorpius is the jailer and Crichton is his prisoner, and they are in a military base. Crichton opens his mouth to speak, and just as quickly he's replaced by a trainee peacekeeper of indeterminate origin, and it's maybe thirty years prior and Scorpius is in military training for the first time. Human faces come and go quickly, all wearing the same suspicious, hostile expression, all in red and black, before settling at last on the strained expression of an older man with a goatee and a higher military rank, as Scorpius gets into a brawl with him and is clearly the stronger opponent but still holds back.
The images fade quickly away from people, and it's back, back even further. Anything coincidentally human-like now is gone, replaced by hostile alien worlds and creatures the likes of which have never been seen on the Barge. He's seventeen and sitting in a clinical office, listening to instructions given by an alien with a large domed head and a respirator mask, who is outfitting him with the trial run of his first coolant suit: a bulky thing with an external battery that must be dragged around. Scorpius is hot-tempered, demanding better results, scathing and impractical and always, always angry. The domed alien drifts off and is replaced by a terrifying creature with blue skin and spider-like appendages around her head, who is crowing about eating out Scorpius' eyes even as he's thirteen and raging, spitting mad and fighting to be free.
In the chair, Scorpius attempts to reign in, to keep himself together even as the Chair begins to press his mind apart, pushing the memories out, elongating them into longer and longer sequences. He shuts his eyes tightly, baring his fangs as the world fades off in the background and is replaced by only the constant, increasing thrum of pain]
no subject
Then, bit by bit, they begin to slow down.
John Crichton is predictably the first clear and present memory: he always seems to be lurking in the forefront of Scorpius' mind, but here on the viewer he is looking less healthy than he ever has on the Barge with burst blood vessels in his eyes, a thick sheen of sweat covering most of his forehead. Here, their positions are reversed. Scorpius is the jailer and Crichton is his prisoner, and they are in a military base. Crichton opens his mouth to speak, and just as quickly he's replaced by a trainee peacekeeper of indeterminate origin, and it's maybe thirty years prior and Scorpius is in military training for the first time. Human faces come and go quickly, all wearing the same suspicious, hostile expression, all in red and black, before settling at last on the strained expression of an older man with a goatee and a higher military rank, as Scorpius gets into a brawl with him and is clearly the stronger opponent but still holds back.
The images fade quickly away from people, and it's back, back even further. Anything coincidentally human-like now is gone, replaced by hostile alien worlds and creatures the likes of which have never been seen on the Barge. He's seventeen and sitting in a clinical office, listening to instructions given by an alien with a large domed head and a respirator mask, who is outfitting him with the trial run of his first coolant suit: a bulky thing with an external battery that must be dragged around. Scorpius is hot-tempered, demanding better results, scathing and impractical and always, always angry. The domed alien drifts off and is replaced by a terrifying creature with blue skin and spider-like appendages around her head, who is crowing about eating out Scorpius' eyes even as he's thirteen and raging, spitting mad and fighting to be free.
In the chair, Scorpius attempts to reign in, to keep himself together even as the Chair begins to press his mind apart, pushing the memories out, elongating them into longer and longer sequences. He shuts his eyes tightly, baring his fangs as the world fades off in the background and is replaced by only the constant, increasing thrum of pain]