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Userpic drabble - ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
crayonbreakygal proposed a drabble for pretty much any John gun icon... and I have a few of them... *sigh*
"I do not understand," she had said, and John Sheppard wasn't sure quite how to explain it.
He was getting better with the sticks, faster and more accurate, but he usually sacrificed style for practicality, beating back blows as best he could and knowing he looked clumsy doing it. He would end up sore and complaining and more often than not, with his ass thoroughly kicked.
"Where does your grace go?"
She'd once asked why they were called 'firearms' and he'd thought about it. It felt biblical to him, like the hand of God, an extension of his own arm, focused by his will.
He'd merely shrugged and muttered something about the means of propulsion.
They were tools to him, a means to defend and at one time, gift mercy.
He tried not to become merely an instrument himself but sometimes, the lines blurred.
Sometimes John Sheppard was nothing but a weapon, bringing wrath with fire and fury.
He stood on the precipice, his toes curled over the edge and tried not to pitch forward into the darkness.
crayonbreakygal proposed a drabble for pretty much any John gun icon... and I have a few of them... *sigh*"I do not understand," she had said, and John Sheppard wasn't sure quite how to explain it.
He was getting better with the sticks, faster and more accurate, but he usually sacrificed style for practicality, beating back blows as best he could and knowing he looked clumsy doing it. He would end up sore and complaining and more often than not, with his ass thoroughly kicked.
"Where does your grace go?"
She'd once asked why they were called 'firearms' and he'd thought about it. It felt biblical to him, like the hand of God, an extension of his own arm, focused by his will.
He'd merely shrugged and muttered something about the means of propulsion.
They were tools to him, a means to defend and at one time, gift mercy.
He tried not to become merely an instrument himself but sometimes, the lines blurred.
Sometimes John Sheppard was nothing but a weapon, bringing wrath with fire and fury.
He stood on the precipice, his toes curled over the edge and tried not to pitch forward into the darkness.