Journal of the Genius's Daughter
Stargate Atlantis
By Teenangel
Summary: The words of a certain scientist's daughter about her life on Atlantis.
Note: This is assuming they're never able to contact Earth. Don't expect a concrete plot or explanations; this is a journal so the character wouldn't assume she'd have to put in the duh stuff. Being that I am not a doctor or a medical persons or a mechanic some things may be incorrect, forgive me.
I only mention the year once, unless it changes.
Disclaimer: Me poor college student using time poorly, me broke ug. Don't sue me, waste of time.
July 7th 2028 13:14
This is Who We Are
In every moment of life I find a tenseness that eats away at my calm exterior. Life is harsh, solid, and insistent. The clock on the wall ticks and ticks reminding me that I forgot to eat, I forgot to sleep, I forgot to yell at my dad to sleep, I forgot not to touch the gizmo he was working on, I forgot to meet mom on the back balcony, I forgot to go to Carson for a check-up, I forgot to read the ingredients of the MRE and ended up waking to Carson's face ...I forgot that I had a bad tendency to forget. Honestly, it isn't that disastrous...maybe one out of five I forget. The fact that my mind is crammed with as much knowledge as half the computer and my body seems to think that hyperglycemia is acceptable doesn't help much either.
Not that I'm complaining or ranting this...wasting precious computer memory is not my goal here, but Kate...sorry, Dr. Heightmeyer thinks that it would be conductive for us to follow our parents in keeping journals, which you Kate will inevitably read. (Do you even try to remember anything? Or are you just scanning for words like suicide? Honestly, you think anyone admits anything in these?)
Hey, I know. If I wrote this in another language would you bother translating it? Does Zelenka write his in Czech? Beckett in Scottish? Does my dad put his in code, or even in ancient--can never put anything past him? I know Shemp is gonna be short, simple, and rude. He's gonna tell you how breakfast sucked this morning, that his dad unfairly grounded him after he blew up a power conduit, how much he thinks this is a stupid idea, and for you to bug off. Kar's probably gonna have an honest field day with this...expect a novel, even if it is in Czech. Or do you already make your son keep a Journal?
I think I know a good place to really dig in, my friends...at least I think their my friends--rivalries are still being assigned. That was a joke. First off, Shemp and Kira, the Shepherd twins as different as night and day. Kira's a caring friend, but she sees me as arrogant, not as much as her brother, but still. I know we'll never be best friends, but she's there when I need her, standing by my bedside when I awaken in the infirmary or pulling me out of the lab at Carson's orders. Shemp, what can I say of John Jr., except I'll never use his proper name in public. If you locked us up in a room, we'd either become ridiculously close in order to escape or five hours later there'd be a homicide. Evidently, I was assigned Shemp as my lifelong rival.
As opposed to Karkeroff Zelenka, who will forever be my lifelong friend. The fact that we were born three months apart and were practically raised together puts us on a solid base. Add that our parents work together and we constantly are working with them and we've got ourselves some serious understandings beneath the surface. There are things we only know... But even so, he has a worry streak, barely joining in on certain things (which we probably shouldn't be doing anyway, one of the few times I side with Shemp), and he's emotional, scrawny--weak, if I'm aloud to be privately cruel. He annoys me sometimes. Hell, everyone annoys me sometimes.
I suppose if I had to spend any lengthy period of time with someone who wouldn't tick me off it'd have to be Beckett. Dear quite, thoughtful, philosophical Beckett. I don't know why we call him by his last name and his dad by his first name--shrug--oh well. Beck has that honest charm about him. His blue-eyed stare can calm the most violent of souls. (Where as my blue eyes tend to freeze people over). His smile is so small and genuine. (I can't even fucken smile properly! I inherited dad's slant smile, the left corner of my lip refuses to go up!) Then there is that sweet Scottish undertone, it doesn't matter what he's saying as long as he keeps saying it. But he's as distant as me like a ghost that forgets it's there and walks through people. I suppose that gives us common ground, being the two most likely to become hermits--me in the lab getting electrocuted, him in some secret room in the belly of city thinking.
Obviously, there are more kids in Atlantis that I'm aquatinted with--Mila, Hannah, Greg and the rest of the munchins that reach the five year my junior line. But the ones above are the first wave. We are the precedent for the others and someday we will be the leaders of Atlantis. It's in the cards and it's playing itself out as we speak. Already Shemp is training for heading his first (very boring and minor) mission; Kira has begun apprenticing with Carson; Kar and I have the lab at our disposal and minor techs at our beck and call; Beck, well, he's got charisma and the presence needed to grab everyone's attentions, and he's got the patience and the understanding to smooth out complications. We've all got our shapes, we're just waiting our moments to fit into the puzzle.
Unconfusing you, if you can't follow journal format and for a recap:
Karkeroff's parents our Dr. Radek Zelenka and Dr. Kate Heightmeyer (and apparently she never changed her last name) Kar is his nickname.
Shemp is a nickname given to John Shepherd Jr. (you'll found out later)
Kira and John Jr. our twins...you can probably guess who their mother is, because I wasn't being too creative with the couples.
Kira (John Sr.'s daughter) wants to become a doctor; where as Carson's son seems to have no drive to follow in his father's steps.
Beckett is used to refer to Carson's son, and only Carson's son. (What is his first name and why does no one use it?)
Yes, the writer of this Journal is McKay's daughter, who I may never name. (Who is her mother?)
Any suggestions, compliments, flames?