![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
naughty-bangles.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Let the reader beware
Prompt 410 Caveat lector
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Everything' mine!
Summary: Archeology is not about the supernatural. Except when it is.
" '... Let the reader beware : words have their power, and those uttered aloud take a life of their own.' " Jemma pursed her lips, having pronounced the last words with an annoyed voice, then added : "And they write that at the end of the text, of course, 'cause it would be no fun otherwise."
Tammy smiled, amused at her ranting. "If you warn the readers before they read, how do you wanna see your spell in action, really ?"
"All those things are bullshit anyway", Jemma said ruefully, getting up from where she had kneeled to read the engraved text. She brushed dirt from her pants, and took her bag from the ground. "There's no such things as cursed words."
"If you say so", Tammy replied evenly, as they walked back to their camp. The other archeologists were gathering there as well after a long afternoon spent looking at all the treasures the site had to offer. The ruins were situed in the middle of the woods, in a far corner of Western Europe, where the weather was mild and workable. Jemma was thankful for that – she had unpleasant memories of a few months in South America where she felt like she was melting from the inside. Here at least, she could wear clothes and carry her backpack around without being under the impression it might kill her.
So far, their team had discovered several ancient items that would bring a new light on theories about European pagan cultures. The place seemed to have been the stage of some secret rituals, and the unusual amount of objects left behing suggested that something had happened during one of those ceremonies that had left the attendants unable to gather theirs tools and hide them like the usually did. It had probably be an unpleasant event for them, but it was a real chance for the archeologists. In a way, their job thrived on the misfortune of the ancients.
They spent the evening talking about their discoveries, discussing datas and changes in knowledge, and imagining new theories. It was mostly light speech, ideas of the moment that didn't bear any academical weight. The real essays and discussions would happen later, when everyone would be back to one's research center with all the datas they would gather, and the brainy part of the job would begin. Still it was nice to be able to discuss all this around the fire. It felt like the beginning, when they had decided on an archeological carrier based on somewhat romanticized ideas of it. That's the Jemma felt it, anyway.
Her fantasies were of the Indiana Jones kind, wrapped in a good mystery with supernatural artifacts. He had long learned that it wasn't real, that you didn't find nazi-dissolving arches of covenants in an actual digging. But when she woke up to a strange sound coming from the center of the camp, she had a surge of that old adventure spirit rushing through her veins, before she groaned at her own silliness. It was probably a wild animal, or maybe just the wind. Nothing special.
Still; now that she was awake, she might as well go and see what was happening.
It turned out it wasn't an animal. It was a man. Not a member of the team, she was sure of that. She knew everyone of them, and the face that looked up at her when she left her tent wasn't one of theirs. She was also pretty sure none of them liked to walk around the camp naked, looking for who knows what.
As her eyes locked with the stranger's, Jemma remembered the words she had read earlier. And the sorceress will come, and she will tell the story, and the aes sidhe will rise, and he will once more walk upon the earth.
But it was bullshit, right?
Prompt 410 Caveat lector
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Everything' mine!
Summary: Archeology is not about the supernatural. Except when it is.
" '... Let the reader beware : words have their power, and those uttered aloud take a life of their own.' " Jemma pursed her lips, having pronounced the last words with an annoyed voice, then added : "And they write that at the end of the text, of course, 'cause it would be no fun otherwise."
Tammy smiled, amused at her ranting. "If you warn the readers before they read, how do you wanna see your spell in action, really ?"
"All those things are bullshit anyway", Jemma said ruefully, getting up from where she had kneeled to read the engraved text. She brushed dirt from her pants, and took her bag from the ground. "There's no such things as cursed words."
"If you say so", Tammy replied evenly, as they walked back to their camp. The other archeologists were gathering there as well after a long afternoon spent looking at all the treasures the site had to offer. The ruins were situed in the middle of the woods, in a far corner of Western Europe, where the weather was mild and workable. Jemma was thankful for that – she had unpleasant memories of a few months in South America where she felt like she was melting from the inside. Here at least, she could wear clothes and carry her backpack around without being under the impression it might kill her.
So far, their team had discovered several ancient items that would bring a new light on theories about European pagan cultures. The place seemed to have been the stage of some secret rituals, and the unusual amount of objects left behing suggested that something had happened during one of those ceremonies that had left the attendants unable to gather theirs tools and hide them like the usually did. It had probably be an unpleasant event for them, but it was a real chance for the archeologists. In a way, their job thrived on the misfortune of the ancients.
They spent the evening talking about their discoveries, discussing datas and changes in knowledge, and imagining new theories. It was mostly light speech, ideas of the moment that didn't bear any academical weight. The real essays and discussions would happen later, when everyone would be back to one's research center with all the datas they would gather, and the brainy part of the job would begin. Still it was nice to be able to discuss all this around the fire. It felt like the beginning, when they had decided on an archeological carrier based on somewhat romanticized ideas of it. That's the Jemma felt it, anyway.
Her fantasies were of the Indiana Jones kind, wrapped in a good mystery with supernatural artifacts. He had long learned that it wasn't real, that you didn't find nazi-dissolving arches of covenants in an actual digging. But when she woke up to a strange sound coming from the center of the camp, she had a surge of that old adventure spirit rushing through her veins, before she groaned at her own silliness. It was probably a wild animal, or maybe just the wind. Nothing special.
Still; now that she was awake, she might as well go and see what was happening.
It turned out it wasn't an animal. It was a man. Not a member of the team, she was sure of that. She knew everyone of them, and the face that looked up at her when she left her tent wasn't one of theirs. She was also pretty sure none of them liked to walk around the camp naked, looking for who knows what.
As her eyes locked with the stranger's, Jemma remembered the words she had read earlier. And the sorceress will come, and she will tell the story, and the aes sidhe will rise, and he will once more walk upon the earth.
But it was bullshit, right?
