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realmof_themuse] 2009.11.A.5 - "Baker Street"
Mar. 17th, 2009 02:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arrow_of_apollo2009.11.A.5 - Song Lyrics - "Baker Street", Gerry Rafferty
This city desert makes you feel so cold
It’s got so many people but it’s got no soul
We were here for three weeks before I realized it.
Three weeks of work, of sweat and strain and exhaustion. The emergency shelters were first, half-cylinder huts made out of collapsible titanium ribs and heavy plastic skin. We leveled ground and turn blasted fields of rubble into landing strips. Massive generators were flown down, and are still providing half of our power, burning through our precious tylium stores because we still haven't come across any decent locations for geothermal energy.
After three weeks, the shelters had been joined by small, squat gray blocks made out of a kind of homebrew concrete that some crewman who used to be a contractor came up with. Beyond that mix of what you could barely call buildings were where people had tried to set up living spaces in what was left of burned-out buildings.
By that time, most of the people still ate at the long metal tables in the communal mess area in the center of this encampment, this new home of ours. They walked up to the chow line, heads bowed, and stayed that way until they scraped their plates into the reclamation buckets and stacked the trays.
Conversations were kept to a bare minimum. The whole world had been eerily quiet when we'd first landed on Earth, and it seemed like no one wanted to break it. I don't know if there was a fear we'd jinx things and the other Cylon faction would find us or if we'd somehow scare up something that had been left behind here.
Every face I saw wore a similar expression: weariness. No matter if it was a human or a Cylon, we were all so tired. We are all so tired. This is the place we live, though it's hard to call it home. This is where we've come to be, where we've stopped running, because we can't run anymore. But it just doesn't feel like our world.
It was three weeks in when I realized that our place here, our encampment, our town... didn't even have a name.
(345)
This city desert makes you feel so cold
It’s got so many people but it’s got no soul
We were here for three weeks before I realized it.
Three weeks of work, of sweat and strain and exhaustion. The emergency shelters were first, half-cylinder huts made out of collapsible titanium ribs and heavy plastic skin. We leveled ground and turn blasted fields of rubble into landing strips. Massive generators were flown down, and are still providing half of our power, burning through our precious tylium stores because we still haven't come across any decent locations for geothermal energy.
After three weeks, the shelters had been joined by small, squat gray blocks made out of a kind of homebrew concrete that some crewman who used to be a contractor came up with. Beyond that mix of what you could barely call buildings were where people had tried to set up living spaces in what was left of burned-out buildings.
By that time, most of the people still ate at the long metal tables in the communal mess area in the center of this encampment, this new home of ours. They walked up to the chow line, heads bowed, and stayed that way until they scraped their plates into the reclamation buckets and stacked the trays.
Conversations were kept to a bare minimum. The whole world had been eerily quiet when we'd first landed on Earth, and it seemed like no one wanted to break it. I don't know if there was a fear we'd jinx things and the other Cylon faction would find us or if we'd somehow scare up something that had been left behind here.
Every face I saw wore a similar expression: weariness. No matter if it was a human or a Cylon, we were all so tired. We are all so tired. This is the place we live, though it's hard to call it home. This is where we've come to be, where we've stopped running, because we can't run anymore. But it just doesn't feel like our world.
It was three weeks in when I realized that our place here, our encampment, our town... didn't even have a name.
(345)
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no subject
Date: 2009-03-17 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-17 09:48 pm (UTC)