riverviewlogs | [open/closed] I watched a change in you

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[open/closed] I watched a change in you

who: John Sheppard & friends, GUEST STARRING the retrovirus, and anyone unlucky enough to cross his path
what: John's problematic transformation from a man into a manbugthing and all the drama that follows
when: Late April to early May
where: Various, inside and outside the wall
warnings: Graphic violence, sexual content, disturbing imagery, language... your typical Rated R Sci-fi movie

Day 0: John is bitten by a venomous insect in the field. Lingering traces of the Irratus bug retrovirus in his system are activated in biological defense, successfully counteracting the venom.

Day 1: No outward physical mutation. Physiological condition is optimized. All symptoms of stress, fatigue and exertion are eliminated. Near instantaneous healing of minor wounds. Strength, speed, stamina, and durability are at peak human capacity. Dopamines and hormones exceed normal levels. Positive change in mood is subsequent.

Day 2: No outward physical mutation. Instantaneous healing of minor wounds. Strength, speed, stamina, and durability are above peak human capacity. Dopamines and hormones are off the charts. Senses are enhanced. Extreme decline of mental/emotional/sexual inhibitions. Behaviour is erratic and reactive.

Day 3: Physical mutation begins, progressing rapidly. Pupils become slitted. Skin and extremities show signs of textural change, becoming rough, hardened and discoloured. Grey dermal patterning covers significant portion of body. Near instantaneous healing of major wounds. Strength, speed, stamina, and durability , as well as senses, are super-human. Shift of brain chemicals and hormones from human to Iratus bug. Loss of mental/emotional/sexual inhibitions. Behaviour is extremely erratic, reactive, and violent.

Day 4: Physical mutation advances significantly, altering facial features. Skin takes on an exoskeleton appearance. Strength, speed, stamina, and durability, as well as senses, are super-human. Complete regenerative ability. Extreme shift of brain chemicals and hormones from human to Iratus bug. Loss of mental/emotional/sexual inhibitions. Loss of identity, and some cognitive function. Behaviour is that of an apex predator. Hyper-violent, territorial, and predatory.

Day 5: Chrysalis. Complete transformation to Iratus hybrid, and loss of human consciousness. Point of no return.

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John wakes up feeling good for the first time in weeks. Not just good. Great.

He isn't tired. Isn't sore all over, inside and out. The pills Carson gave him are working faster than he'd thought they would. If he'd known a solid night of sleep was all he needed to feel human again... Well, he probably wouldn't have done it anyway. His self-prescribed cocktail of sex and alcohol hadn't been about feeling human. He'd wanted to feel nothing at all.

Looking in the mirror, the face staring back at him is less haggard. His eyes are bright, no longer red, or ringed by purple hollows. His skin is clear. Bruises and scrapes from rough missions and even rougher flings gone. He actually feels good as he gets dressed. Less used up and worn out.

John leaves the house with a spring in his step, and kills his morning run. He gets to work early, blitzes through his paperwork, and leaves early too. For the first time ever. Why not? The weather is nice, and for the first time in what feels like a long time, he actually wants to enjoy the sun on his face.

John can be found during his morning run, happily filing at PG HQ, in the streets of Riverview running errands with a smile on his face, or at home cleaning the apartment and cooking up a storm before either Rodney or Carson get home.

Edited 2018-05-06 00:16 (UTC)

Alex hadn't planned on running into John today, but it was a nice day, so she was out enjoying the sunshine and grabbing another coffee because one could never have too much of them, honestly. Still, when she saw John, Alex was surprised, and she was one of those people who was either blessed or cursed with how easily she could be read at times, and this was definitely that sort of situation.

"John, hi!" The words were a warm and happy chirp for him, and she smiled at him, her eyes studying him below the rims of her glasses. "You look really good!" It's not at all said as a come-on. Instead, it's entirely surprise and being pleased for him. "Does this mean..." Alex leaves it hanging, but from the smile, it's clear if she's asking if John and his unnamed man had worked things out and gotten not straightly back together.

Honestly, for his sake, Alex certainly hoped so! After all, John just seemed so miserable without him.

"Alex! Finally got some shuteye." If John's looking good, it's because he's feeling good. After his first solid night of sleep in nearly a month, John feels like a brand new man.

He walks up to her, coffee in hand, and plants a kiss on her cheek. He's not big on PDA in any form, but today? It just feels right. She's his friend, and he's glad to see her. If anyone has a problem they can say it to his face.

His smile falters for just a split second when she asks after Poe. Them. The relationship. That whole disaster.

"No, but..." He's feeling strangely optimistic about the possibility of being really over it. No, optimistic is the wrong word. He just feels incapable of being weighed down right now. High on life. Or maybe high on the sleeping pills Carson prescribed him.

Either way, today is different.

"I've got my own stuff going on. Had a great run this morning, too. Busted my previous record. Smoked Sam Wilson."

Alex just laughs when he kisses her cheek and she gives him a little nod. Getting actual sleep can be a miracle and a natural high so it's not unexpected how up her friend is today. He seems good, and he looks good even if it's not because he ended up getting back together with his boyfriend. That could come later, if he kept getting some sleep.

The mention of him beating Sam Wilson earns him a little chuckle and a nod, before she just nodded with an impressed sounding "wow!" She knows of Sam by reputation more than anything else, but he definitely out does alex herself on the running time. And a fair amount of other people who weren't superpowered.

"Clearly I need some of whatever you did to help me sleep!" Her voice is teasing because she's working on both potions and medications that Dr. Frankenstein is giving her, but she's not had that much luck yet. Soon though, hopefully. "I seriously cannot get over how good you look!"

"Didn't have much of a problem last time we hung out." Innocently said, with a less than innocent smirk.

"You look good too. Always do." He takes a long drink of his coffee, looking around the little cafe.

"Kinda crowded in here. Wanna take a walk?" John offers her his arm.

Alex just chuckled softly, in response before she smirked at him in return. "Well, I do seem to remember that being true..." She let her sentence hang for a minute before she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.

"Sure, a walk would be good. Where do you feel like walking to?" With her coffee in the other hand, Alex let him lead her outside and away from the crowded cafe with a grin.

"I dunno. Anywhere. It's nice out. Let's see where we end up." There's something particular beautiful about today. The weather is perfect. Not too warm or cold. Sunny, with just enough clouds to be pretty rather than blazing. A breeze that carries the scent of flowers, and the foods of local food vendors.

Having a pretty girl hanging off of him helps.

"You never talk about where you're from." Not that John can say anything. He's tight-lipped about Atlantis. People he's close to know the basics, but he doesn't disclose anything that could pose a potential threat to security. He'd rather be safe than sorry. You never know who's listening.

He wouldn't be surprised if there are Genii even here.

"Okay. Taking a wander sounds good. I haven't done one of those in a while." Of course Alex took her dog out for a walk three times a day, but the two of them had set patterns of where they went and where they ended up. With John, she didn't have that, so she just figured she'd enjoy the time out in the sunshine with him in a good mood. Maybe it would rub off on her if she was at all lucky.

Once they were outside, Alex just smiled and took in the scent of the air, adding to it with a sip of her coffee before he said she never talked about where she was from. Unable to keep the surprised look from her face, Alex just asked: "really? I honestly feel like I talk about it too much sometimes." Or at least certain aspects of it. The demon ones if nothing else, and all the ones around the show. But, she just shrugged at him with a smile before she added: "I'm an open book from Seattle who was born in Vancouver and raised in a small town outside of it. What else do you want to know, John?"

"I dunno. What don't you talk about? You're the only person I've ever met who's more vague about their past than I am." And because of that reason, John doesn't usually act. People are private for their own reasons, and most days he wouldn't think to pry.

John starts heading towards the river because... why not? He hasn't been back there since Poe. The river, and that little B&B, was their place. Where they went to get away from it all.

Somehow, right now, thinking about him doesn't immediately kill John's mood. Maybe he's finally getting over him.

"For an open book, you don't have a lot of pictures. That's what I'm saying."

That was new, but maybe it was a part of the whole thing about trying not to overshare when she considered her show. So, Alex just frowned for a moment before she thought about what to add. "Well, you know I'm a workaholic. We talked about that, so for the last three years, it's kind of been sort of nothing but cults and demons and nightmares and sacred geometry and me just sort of losing my mind a bit." Alex laughed softly at that but honestly? It was mostly true.Especially the year before.

"Don't look at me too badly, but I definitely have one of those crazy ass bunker boards with theories and complete with red strings hanging in my office." Alex's voice went softer as she confided that to him, and there wasn't a lie there. Currently it was one part the Eastern US and the other part the world. Demons and cults were no jokes.

She grinned at him before adding, "I'm also adopted, I grew up in a suburb of Vancouver, BC, my dad's a cop and my mom was a dispatcher before they got me then she did the whole stay at home stuff. I always wanted to be a reporter and dressed up as Lois Lane for every single Halloween. My mom was super active in the church and she used to call me every Sunday to ask when I was getting married." Now she calls and asks when Alex is bring up 'the nice young man from her podcast.' The answer was probably never.

"Let's see," she says after a moment, "my favorite color is red, my favorite movie is His Girl Friday and my current favorite book is Betrayal: Crisis in the Catholic Church because even though it's a hard read, it's some of the best investigative journalism since Woodward and Bernstein." There's a little laugh, and it may have some bitter tones in it. "I always wanted to be Ira Glass, not in Scooby Doo."

Chase, being the "good" ~~trash son~~ kid that he is, actually did as John requested and painted the apartment in some suitably manly bachelor colors. Like slate blue or blue grey or whatever the fuck. It was easy enough, honestly, with magic, and it gave him something to keep busy with, if only for an afternoon.

Plus, he's getting cash and pizza out of this. Win-win!

But that doesn't mean he can't have a little fun at John's expense. Which is why-- thanks to a glamour-- the walls appear to be painted neon orange, with tasteful green and pink accents. It's like an 80s fitness video threw up in here.

He just wants to see John's face when he walks in, okay, let him have this!

John walks in dirty, sweaty, and in full gear. A rifle in one hand and a duffel-bag in the other. Straight from work.

He stops in the front hallway and takes a look around the place. It's been two days since he was home, with instructions for the kid to finish painting before he got back from his mission, if he wanted a bonus.

Neon orange. Green. Pink. The epitome of that awkward phase between the late seventies and early eighties, when people still had shag carpet, but were starting to wear acid washed jeans. John remembers it just enough to cringe.

But maybe there's something to be said for nostalgia.

"Chase..."

John He drops his duffel-bag on the floor, plants both hands on his hips and stares up at the vomit green ceiling.

"You really outdid yourself. This is perfect. It's not the look I wanted, but it might just be the look I needed."

Maybe putting up a glamour to make the apartment look like a neon hell wasn't a really smart move when John's got, like, a freaking gun. But it's Chase, so he doesn't really think about these things, not until John's walking through the door and taking a look around at his illusory handiwork.

But whatever, it's not like John's gonna shoot at him for this.

"Pretty nice, huh?"

He's expecting sarcasm, of course. Or at least an eye roll. A lecture, maybe? What Chase doesn't expect is praise, and it's enough to throw him for a second.

"Uh. Really?"

Well. This is awkward. Way to take the wind out of his prank's sails!

"You're not gonna be disappointed if I tell you it's all hocus pocus, are you?" Chase snaps his fingers, the neon colors fading away into black mist, and leaving behind the boring, totally understated steel blue. "Ta-daaa?"

Edited 2018-05-15 19:45 (UTC)

"I like this too." Chase can try all he wants, but he won't kill John's vibe.

"Kinda peaceful. What's that word, Zen? Maybe we should get one of those rock gardens. Even Rodney couldn't kill that." Not that John's a green thumb either, but it's a decent idea. Rocks are about the only pets any of them have the time for.

Minus Carson's turtles.

"Good job, kid. Order us up some pizza and I'll foot the bill." He digs around in the pocket of his cargo pants for his wallet. Opening it up, he grabs a fistful of cash, what he owes Chase, enough for a tip, some pizza, and then some.

"Don't spend it on drugs. I'll know."

Chase just stares, uncertain of what to do in the face of relentlessly positive reinforcement. His adoptive dad had always been stern and withholding, meting out affection as if it were a resource that needed to be strictly rationed-- you know, typical rich WASP shit. John's cheerfulness is... suspicious. Is he just trying to get Chase's guard down?

Pssh. Nah. He seriously needs to get used to the fact that sometimes people are just nice or cheerful or whatever, without ulterior motives or underlying issues.

Besides, you know what's more important than John's good mood? MONEY. As soon as he's got a fistful of cash, Chase is grinning and pocketing it.

"Putting a teenager in charge of pizza. Ballsy."

Because you know he's going to go hog wild here. Not just pizza, but BREADSTICKS. WINGS. MOZZARELLA STICKS.

And excuse you, he would never spend the money on drugs. Chase's drug of choice is totally free of charge.

As he starts to browse his phone for pizza places, he glances at John, brow creasing a little. "So, uh. Good mission? You kill the Blair Witch?"

"Yeah, actually." John unzips the front of his tactical vest and throws it over the nearest chair. Don't mind him popping the first few buttons of his uniform shirt as he rummages around in the fridge for a beer.

"Kind of a funny story. The Blair Witch was actually just some malfunctioning AI that was activated in an electrical storm. It only looked like a ghost because the hologram went funky. Scared the shit out of me. Turns out that broadcast was the AI still trying to do its job from twenty years ago, and when people came to investigate? She was just protecting her turf. We ended up bringing her back with us. No harm, no foul." John cracks open the beer bottle with the belt buckle on his holster.

"It was all pretty damn Scooby Doo. Guess that makes Chyler Scrappy." He laughs, mostly to himself, and downs half the bottle in a few bobs of his adam's apple.

Edited 2018-06-24 18:57 (UTC)

[It's been a long night. Which isn't unusual, in and of itself, really. Rodney has a lot of long nights, and comes home early in the morning to nap for a few hours before going back in. In fact, he doesn't particularly notice anything unusual until he comes home, pushing the door open, yawning a little, and steps inside to see John Sheppard.

Cooking and cleaning.

The kitchen smells good (is that stew?) and the living room smells of pine cleaner and the air is fresh and everything is breezy and sunshiny. Frankly, it doesn't even look like a place they could live.]

Seriously? What is going on here?

It's called cleaning, Rodney. You should try it sometime.

[John's vigorously scrubbing down the counter with a smile on his face, dog-tags swinging against his chest. He's wearing rubber gloves, a pair of track pants and a tee, feet bare against the tile floor.

It's rare he's out of uniform in Riverview. If John's not working, he's going to, or from work. Always ready, and on-call. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.]

And don't touch the oven. I've got a pot roast in there. Figured we could all sit down and eat something tonight. Watch a movie. Whatever.

Edited 2018-05-19 21:37 (UTC)

[ Chyler notices his change in mood. How could she not? The turn-around is dramatic and severe, and she wants to be happy about it. He looks healthy for the first time in weeks, and hasn't she been worried sick about how he's looked coming into work? She should be happy.

Instead she's just unnerved.

She won't tell John that, at least. She won't mention it at all. She'll just hover while he does paperwork, hover after she gets him coffee, hover as he gets ready to leave.

And, finally, blurt out: ] You never leave early.

What're you gonna do, tattle on me? Oh wait, I'm the boss.

[John grins at her, teasing. Chyler is his favourite victim. She makes it so easy, and it doesn't help that she's cute as a button.

He reaches out and messes up her hair with one gloved hand.]

I won't tell on you to me if you wanna cut out before the bell.

[It's not like they're doing anything important. He's already done his paperwork, and anything else can wait. If there's an emergency the PG will call. It'd be a waste of a beautiful day to spend it sitting at his desk. For once he WANTS to just enjoy the weather and have himself a nice meal on a patio, instead of picking the dirtiest bar and hookup he can find to drown his sorrows.]

Whaddya say, girly? Want to get some ice cream?

[ First Point: This still makes no sense. He's not back with that man, as far as Chyler knows, and nothing about his attitude seems to say that he's found someone else. He'd be off to see them, not asking her to get ice cream with him. For John to suddenly have a turn-around like this, for him to suddenly be bright and happy and telling her it's fine to leave even if he probably would do that last one if she ever gave him the opportunity. Which she will not. It makes no sense.

Second Point: ....This is disturbing, for the reasons outlined above, and the possibility of magic or who knows what else. You can never tell with this place.

Ergo: He needs supervision. She can't just let him walk out if there's something legitimately wrong. He's her responsibility as much as she's his. He's her commanding officer. He's family. ]

Fine. [ She looks at the papers on her desk, reports unfiled, unfinished. They'll be itching at her until she comes back to do them, but she can take care of that later. ]

All right, fine. [ Chyler gets up and smooths the front of her uniform. ] There's a place near the communal housing building that's not bad.

[ I.e. she likes it. ]

Not bad, huh?

[John knows. He speaks fluent Chyler.

Before she can change her mind on him, he's throws and arm over her shoulders and steers her out of the office. He says hi to everyone they meet in the hallway, seemingly remembering everyone's name, and happy to let them know it.

Lt. Col. Congeniality.]

When I was a kid, we had this ranch up in Canada. They didn't have ice cream trucks, they had these guys driving giant tricyles with freezers on the front called Dickie Dee's. We were all crazy about it, of course. Ice cream. But we had this chant we'd chase them around with, because y'know, kids.

"Dickie Dee, Dickie Dum, stick your ice cream up your bum."

[John cackles. It's still good.]

Edited 2018-07-09 00:37 (UTC)

[ This is so bizarre. If Chyler had the reference point of The Twilight Zone, that's where her mind would be right now. As it is, she stays quiet on the way out of the base, as stone-faced as John is friendly, mentally daring anyone to try and interfere with him or stop him or ask what's wrong. It's her job to find that out, thanks.

She stays quiet at least until John tells that story, then she's looking up at him incredulously. Not like she didn't have children's rhymes where she was from, not that she even has a hard time imagining John chanting that particular rhyme (it's really, really easy to imagine). It's just that he so rarely talks about his childhood, except when he's being cavalier, dismissive, alluding to how miserable it was.

She's reading too much into this. It's just a story. It's just a story, just a good mood--but she can't make herself believe it. ]

I've never seen an ice cream truck.

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[open/closed] I watched a change in you

Day 1

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