"To know the face of God is to know madness. I see the universe. I see the patterns. I see the foreshadowing that precedes every moment of every day. It's all there. I see it and you don't. And I have a surprise for you. I have something to tell you about the future."

If you would like to get in touch with Leoben or his mun, please leave a comment here or email cylon_prophet [at] livejournal [dot] com. Thank you!

This response is set in the Earth!AU verse, and features AU!Leoben.

4. Your authority is worthless here.

I have recently begun work with the Earth Civil Corps of Engineers. And I am very grateful to have things to occupy my time during the day, and I am very good with engineering--it's all patterns, you see--but I'm afraid I'm not being very helpful. And it is not for lack of trying. It's simply because I'm a Cylon.

Unfortunately, my name is not easily forgettable. Sam asked me, one night when Kara was on recon patrol and it was just the two of us at home, why I chose the name "Leoben". I don't actually remember--I just liked the sound of it. And as an arms dealer, you need a somewhat distinctive name. Sam said that everyone would remember I was a Cylon, and I said that I didn't mind that, because I was a Cylon. What I am beginning to understand is that Sam means I will not be forgotten as one of those Cylons, who helped bring about the exodus from the Twelve Colonies, and he is right.

They do not care for me, very much, on the worksite. I have tried to offer my input but have been rejected on several occasions, so I have simply started fixing things that are wrong when I find them. Unfortunately, this has not gone over well, either; I've been accused of attempted sabotage in the event of another Cylon attack.

I tried to tell them the first target would not be the administrave complex's plumbing system or wiring housing, but no one believed me. Also, I'm afraid no one understands my sense of humor. Sam says it is my delivery, that I should learn to be more expressive. I'm afraid this is counter to my programming. I told him that and he laughed, but I wasn't necessarily joking.

I'm not particularly bothered by their ire--I expected it, to be honest. However, I found myself angry when they started discussing Kara and Sam in a less than flattering light. Kara has done nothing but put her life on the line to serve humanity, and indeed, they would be forever adrift in space were in not for her. I, however, am the reason they were set adrift in the first place. And somehow, Kara's actions are judged less worthy because of me. And I am apparently "converting" Sam into being "evil"--these men were fans of his, when he was a Pyramid player on Caprica. They don't like to think he had anything to do with the Attacks. They don't like to think he is anything like me.

I try to tell them that's he didn't, that he was unaware he was a Cylon until recently. I tell them he is nothing like me--which, despite us both being Cylons, is very true--but they do not want to hear it. I try telling them that I am simply trying to do what the rest of them are doing, which is to find something helpful to do and to have the life which God has seen fit to grant me. But they do not want to hear words like this. And I begin to wonder if it is always my destiny to speak things and be ignored, to speak truth to those who refuse to hear it.

It's very frustrating. I would accept their anger and mistrust of me as understandable though a bit shortsighted, considering my part in the Cylon war and the fact I have been pardoned by the Admiral himself. I am constantly wary of someone swinging something heavy at my head, so I'm ever on guard. I would like to do more than fixing wires and re-routing plumbing, but my more abstract suggestions are dismissed out of hand. I must have patience, I understand this. But I do hope they stop with the personal attacks on Kara and Sam.

I would hit a lot harder than they do, and I don't think anyone wants that.

AU!verse, takes place after this. Written with the fantastic arrow_of_apollo, set in the Earth!Au timeline.

Leoben decided to go and visit Lee Adama, as Sam had suggested, to offer his services for whatever civil engineering projects he could be of use. He wasn't sure what would happen--Lee Adama probably didn't trust him in the slightest, despite his official pardon--but it couldn't hurt to try, could it?

He was getting kind of restless, truth be told. Not that there weren't things he could be doing at home, it was just that Leoben was not used to be alone quite so much. Even if his model was somewhat solitary, they were still there. He had no connection to other Cylons, there were no Raiders, no Centurions. The metal was cold and did not breathe.

As happy as he was to have Kara--and Sam--around when they were home, and as much as he appreciated a few hours to gather his thoughts after they left each morning (a whirlwind of chaos), it would be nice to feel useful to his new community.

If they would let him.

Leoben put on a coat and a scarf, his gloveless hands in his pockets, and walked to the administration building. Most people didn't give him a second glance, though a few recognized him, either as one of the "original" Cylons (a name which amused him) or perhaps because of his living arrangement, he wasn't quite sure. He was the only Two left.

He found Lee Adama's office easy enough, and knocked politely.

This is set in the AU!Earth!Verse and timewise, occurring right after Kara leaves for her girls night out with Sharon. Sam here is notmyfate.

Defiance

A few hours after Kara left, Sam and Leoben finished their preliminary sketches for the indoor bathroom and the back wall of the house. Sam had finally, finally stopped arguing with him every two seconds ("that's not even possible to do that with wires, Leoben,") and listened, and had eventually come around to Leoben's on idea on how to give the back wall insulation and protection from the elements without actually obstructing their very nice view of the ocean.

"You know, you're really good at this," Sam said around a yawn, stretching.

Leoben gave him a look. "You weren't saying that two hours ago," he said pointedly, gesturing to the pages and pages of discarded notes. "You said, actually, Leoben, I don't think your crazy Cylon brain works like other people's--"

"It doesn't," Sam interrupted him, flushing a bit. "But it works. You noticed we have the best house around here, right? I mean, a lot of people don't even have walls, and we almost have indoor plumbing."

"That wasn't all me," Leoben reminded him. "There are three of us, we've all worked hard." He paused. "Well. Kara, she...was more of a distraction than a help, but occasionally she was good at holding things."

Sam laughed at that. "Oh, man. You should say that when she's around to get pissed off at you for it. You know. The kind of pissed off she gets when you say things that are true."

Leoben smiled. "I may be strange, Sam, but I'm not an idiot. I try to keep that occurrence to a minimum."

Sam laughed and grinned at him, an expression Leoben rarely saw directed at him and found he rather liked. "Still," Sam said, standing up. "You should go talk to someone in administration. Seems like they could maybe use some help, y'know? Someone to plan things. You should see some of these schools. The Pyramid courts are the nicest things about them."

"Do you think they'd trust me enough to let me do that?" Leoben asked, cocking his head. "I'm a Cylon."

"They let me go teach kids, remember?"

"Yes, but you didn't help plan a genocide," Leoben said calmly, standing up as well. He paused, tensing, wondering if that would make Sam angry. "I would like something to do," he said quickly, not wanting to ruin what was a very pleasant interaction. Sam was like Kara, quick to anger, but he took a lot longer to cool off. Leoben was enjoying the relative companionship between them and he didn't want to ruin it by talking about things no one could change. "I could help, certainly, but they'd have to let me."

"You should go talk to Lee Adama." Sam picked up there beer bottles, headed towards the kitchen. "He doesn't have any reason to hate you, right?"

Leoben smiled. "No more than the rest of humanity, no. Unless he's angry at me over New Caprica, which is entirely possible. He never seems entirely comfortable around me."

"Leoben, Kara isn't even entirely comfortable around you. I think that's just you, man. And Lee wasn't even on New Caprica. If I've gotten over it, and Kara has--"

"Kara hasn't," Leoben said flatly, tired, not wanting to get into this.

Sam came back out of the kitchen and shrugged. He didn't look angry, which made Leoben relax somewhat. "No, but she has more of a reason not to."

"So do you." Leoben met his eyes calmly. "She is your wife. I took her from you, when you were sick and needed her."

"Yeah. And if I can get over it, so can he. That's my point."

Leoben smiled tightly. "And are you? Over it?"

( Read more... )

Alive

Leoben stands in the warmth of the hangar deck, his fingers brushing lightly against the Raider's wing. He's taken a hit, low on the side, enough to damage but not to destroy. "Shhh," Leoben says softly, and the Raider's pain thrums down his spine in a series of short flares, vibrating through Leoben's body and lighting behind his eyes. "I know," he says, wincing in sympathy. The Raider is disoriented, Leoben does not think he realizes he is home safely.

The Raider blinks at him, the red light flashing in disjointed patterns of slow and fast as he tries to orient himself. Leoben continues to touch his wing with gentle, even strokes as a Centurion appears with tools in hand. "He's in pain,' Leoben says to the Centurion, moving aside. "He's confused, there may be some problem with the navigation cortex." The Centurion pauses, then looks at the Raider. The Centurion's light flashes red, once, twice, then settles into an even, steady rhythm.

Leoben feels the Raider's light reflect in his eyes, scanning him. Presently the Raider's own light slows down, matching the Centurion, and the Raider relaxes and orients to the fact he is home, that the Centurion will see to his wounds, that Leoben is a friend and not a foe.

"Thank you," Leoben says to the Centurion, and he's not sure if the Centurion nods his head or if Leoben is imagining it--sometimes it is hard to tell. Either way, Leoben thinks the Centurion understands the sentiment, so he backs away with one last stroke of his hand down the Raider's wing. "Welcome home, brother," he says softly, and turns away.

There is a One and an Eight at the entrance to the hangar. The One rolls his eyes, his voice a sharp bite. "You're wasting time talking to them, you know. They don't know what you're saying." There is something in the One's voice that gives Leoben pause--in the past few weeks, the Ones have become more vitriolic than usual, more inclined towards mockery and disdain. It makes Leoben uneasy, but he sees it is part of the pattern, the great divide of which he dreams.

Our threads will break, my brother, and you do only what God intends you to do. Still, it was tiresome to hear the Ones speak of their brothers so, that just because they did not have voices they could not speak.

"We all understand fear, brother," Leoben says simply.

"And we all know how it feels to be brought safely home," the Eight responds, smiling warmly at him. Leoben smiles back, pleased. He sees her future in his mind, the visions of life cradled in the Eight's warm embrace.

The One mutters something and stalks off, talking about delusional damned machines under his breath, and Leoben takes his sister's hand. "I am glad you understand," he says, and she squeezes his hand with hers. Her skin is warm, alive, against his own.

This features AU!Leoben, and is set in the AU!Verse. Kara is burnandrave, and Sam is notmyfate.

3. Discuss a location of special significance to you and your partner.

That would be the place Kara and I do not talk about. New Caprica, where she was my hostage for four months, three days, and seventeen hours.

None of us like to talk about New Caprica. It makes Kara upset and gives her nightmares, and it makes Sam angry at me. I do not have fond memories, either--does anyone believe I enjoyed keeping the woman I love prisoner, knowing how very much she hated me for it?

And I died a great many times. Each time was more painful than the last, and each time, I told myself if I would just be what she wanted, convince her of the rightness of our being together, I would stop suffering increasingly painful rebirths. But of course, I knew as time went on, that that was not to be. And I would have accepted it, each death and successive painful re-download, would have accepted it gladly, if she had not tried to take her own life.

So I did what I had to do. I found a child and pretended it was ours, as if our entwined destiny was to lead to a child instead of Earth. I made the child Earth, the fruit of our labors, I tried to give Kara something to live for. It worked, for a time. And time was what I needed. I needed to keep Kara alive. I would have done anything, told any lie, to see that happen.

One of my models died out of range of the resurrection ship, sick with a plague, shortly after the exodus from New Caprica. Kara tells me that I said to her, All is fair in love and war, when we spoke together. That does sound like something I would say. Perhaps I was thinking she would put something in my neck again and end my misery, as it sounded as if I was very sick. Or perhaps I was just in a bad mood. I am capable of that, on occasion.

Here on Earth, Kara and I were wary around each other in our first few weeks of domestic cohabitation. It was different, on Galactica, during the final battle. This, sharing a space, cooking dinner--these are all things we've done before. And yet, it is so much different. She stays when she has the freedom to leave.

I don't know if any of us will put New Caprica to rest. It is a ghost, a specter, that haunts us all. Perhaps in time it will fade, but maybe it shouldn't. It is a testament to the things love will make you do. Maybe we should remember that.

This prompt response features AU!Leoben, and is set in the AU!Earth-verse.

This photo.

It's winter, here, on Earth.

I lived on Caprica, before the Cylon War on humanity. I lived in Caprica City, in an apartment south of town. Caprica City never seemed to get very cold, though I imagine there was plenty of temperature variation. It was a crowded city, full of humans, full of life. There were a lot of lights. I was working as an arms dealer, which was a very boring job, and which I excelled simply because I am adept at subterfuge and discerning patterns. I took no joy from my work.

At any rate, I didn't die on Caprica City, so I did not have these memories until later, when the particular Two who lived there was killed by Admiral Adama. I remember that it was strange to look up in the city and have the glow obscure the stars. I do not think I would like to live somewhere like that, now that everything is done, now that I am the only Two left who remembers.

Here, I can see the stars. It is cold, very much so, despite being next to the ocean, but there is empty sky when you go outside and look up at night. I do this a lot, and Kara doesn't understand why. I like to look at the beach, the ocean, the sky above. I like to feel everything cold and calm. It is like a clean slate, like everything has been purified down to the beginning, as if we are inside the Void. The patterns and destines that brought us here are slowly fading, like the stars in Caprica City, obscured by light.

We will draw new patterns. There are new stars. I find this comforting. I am glad there is winter here.

Do you believe in the phrase 'all men / women are created equal'?

Of course. We are all created by God. It is our actions that define us, and our acceptance of the path on which we all must walk.

That being said, I like some people--Cylon or Human--better than others.

Name a person you admire, name a friend, and name a relative. Describe each and your relationship to them.

I admire the Sixes. I have the utmost respect for how they became so human in order to complete their part in God's plan, and then have to suffer the trials and tribulations that such humanity brings to them. Of all of us, they feel most keenly, and I believe they suffer the most because of it.

I admire Kara, of course. But she won't want to hear why.

I don't think I have very many friends. My model kept to ourselves.

I have a great many relatives. I feel in harmony with those who understand the path to our future is entwined with the colonials, rather than being caught in the fibers of war. The Sixes, the Eights, the Threes. I have always felt affection and kinship for my brethren Raiders; they speak in ways we humanoid models have been taught to ignore. As for my brothers that stand with the Ones, we are still Cylon. It was our destiny to be divided. I miss that singular purpose we all once shared, but there is no sense in railing against that which had to break in order to survive.

If you could kiss anyone in the world on midnight at New Year's eve, who would it be?

Kara.

What happened in the last year that you would most like to forget?

The pain I regrettably caused Kara on New Caprica.

If you could change one thing you did in the last 24 hours, what would it be & why?

I don't believe in regrets.

Also, I didn't have a very eventful day.

Who do you vent to when you are having a bad day?

I visit the Raider in the hangar, or find one of my fellow Cylons. I don't necessarily need to vent, it soothes me just to be around them.

Who makes you feel taken for granted and who do you most take for granted?

Kara.

I don't anything, or anyone, for granted. If I have, it would distress me to learn of it.

What have you recently changed your mind about?

Nothing. My purpose is strong, my visions are clear. I am content in the knowledge I am walking my path with surety and brightness.

What one thing is there no wrong or right way to do?

Dream.

Palm trees or snow storms?

I imagine one would become tiresome if you were denied the other. God has given us palm trees and snow storms both; why should we seek to limit our experiences with either?

What one thing couldn't you live your life without?

Truth.

Humanitarian or Power Broker?

::smiles:: I have no use for power.

Chess or Scrabble?

Chess.

But I don't know what Scrabble is.

Movie, Theatre or Symphony?

Again, why would I only wish to choose one expression of art? This is a very strange human thing, you may only have one choice. God is limitless, and so is His universe. Having more than one choice means I was not meant to have to choose.

OOC: This prompt response features AU!Leoben, and is set in the Earth!AU/Threesome-verse.

"Lust is easy. Love is hard. Like is most important." ~ Carl Reiner

I would say this quote is very applicable to Kara and I.

[locked from notmyfate]

And Sam and I, at least for the last two, but he doesn't like me to say things about that for some reason I don't really understand; as if a lack of any physical contact between us means we cannot have any kind of relationship. He's very frustrating about that. I don't think I will ever understand the dichotomy of human thinking, especially in regards to sexuality. Sam is not a human, of course, but he still clings to ways of thinking that are decidedly un-Cylon. This is definitely one of them, but I've yet to figure out how to broach that subject.

[/unlocked]

I loved Kara before I even met her. God showed her to me, a bright shining light that would pour forth from the darkness and lead us to salivation. Destined to be our savior, destined to be my lover. It took a very long time for her to believe either of those things. I would say "I told you so," but that might end up with me in a very cold bed for several weeks. Kara holds grudges.

I'm accused often of being too esoteric ("your head is in the clouds again, Leoben,"), but I'm very perceptive. From the first moment we met, there was a connection between Kara and I. I called it love (I will never forget how happy I was when she walked in to that interrogation room, all indignation and posturing, and I knew it was her, I knew), but I think she called it something else. Not love, but a bond; a connection, if you will. Unwanted, certainly, on her behalf.

On New Caprica, there were moments when I would catch something beneath the hate she felt for me, and I knew what it was even if she did not. Any slight touch between us was fraught with it, each slight brush of fingers, the feel of her breath on my neck. There was something oddly sexual about the way she killed me, even. I don't think it is unfair, or untruthful, to say that we have always had a certain amount of sexual attraction, even when she loathed the very sight of me. Though I suppose she can attest to that, and probably will, if I know Kara. Which I do. Lust has never been our problem.

Love for her came slowly, and she would have to tell you how. I don't think she really knows, actually. Perhaps I'm just very persistent? (I've heard that before.) When she came to me on Galactica I was almost as surprised as she was when she said it, but that might have been because I was convinced she was going to refuse to tell me out of spite. Regardless, there is love, as I always knew there would be.

As for like--this seems to be what we are building, slowly, here on Earth. Again, I'm not an idiot, and I know there are tensions we've not put to rest. Besides, we are very different, Kara and I, and it has nothing to do with my being a Cylon. Our temperaments are worlds apart, but I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing. Yesterday, she came into my room and paced while telling me about her day, some trainee who is giving her a particularly hard time. "Sam would just want to hit him," she'd said (sorry, Sam, but I believe she's probably right), and while she didn't precisely ask me for advice, I do think she came to me because I am a lot more calm and given to forethought before action than either her or Sam. Usually, when Kara comes to my room, it's not to talk, so I took this as a positive sign that things are progressing.

I have faith, of course, that this will all work out as it is meant to. The time for war is behind us, it is time now to lay down our weapons in all senses of the word. And of course I like Kara, though I won't deny she is sometimes very impossible. As I often say, my patience is very much a virtue, especially when it comes to her.

OOC: This features AU!Leoben and is written with the lovely number_eight, taking place in the Earth!AU verse.

Mornings in his household were somewhat chaotic.

Kara was always late--he wasn't sure how she managed in the military so long without learning how to be on time--and was never in a good mood in the morning. He made her breakfast, which she usually ate half of or ran out of the door with, her uniform half-undone, mumbling something at him that might have been thanks or might have been I wish we had bacon, because graciousness was not Kara's strong suit.

Sam left later than Kara, and at first Leoben would stay out of his way--I'm here for Kara, not you, okay?--but tensions between them had eased considerably, and Sam would drink a cup of coffee and actually eat breakfast while staying seated, which was a nice change from Kara's morning whirlwind. Sam and Leoben didn't speak to each other much in the morning--they did sometimes talk about Kara, who would probably try and hit them both if she knew--but quiet seemed more comfortable lately than it ever had before, so that was pleasant. Leoben was far from talkative, and quiet had never bothered him.

His model had always been somewhat solitary, so he didn't mind the settling quiet after Sam and Kara left in the morning, but he'd always been solitary with many others of himself, and it was a strange adjustment to be alone with his own company. Sometimes he would look around, as if waiting to see the familiar form of another Two, but the only place he saw that anymore was in the mirror.

It was very strange indeed.

He went to clean up from breakfast, thinking about small tasks for the day--rations, working on the back wall of the house, figuring out what to do about heating as the days were becoming colder. He was going to need to find something else to do at some point, not related to their house, but Leoben trusted in God and knew something would come it when it was the right time.

For now, he would do the dishes.

What do you want more than anything?

I want Kara to realize her destiny. This means I would like her to stop hating herself, to stop fighting so hard, to understand what it means to burn with the light of God.

I would like for my brethren to come together in a unity of purpose, to understand that by continuing this war we struggle in darkness and turn our faces from the light of truth.

What are your motivations for wanting this?

Destiny. The pattern which connects all things together. God's plan. It is my gift, my calling, to bring this knowledge to those who refuse to listen, though I do so amidst blood and the cinders of war.

What would you do or have you done in order to achieve this?

Anything. I have (with regret) participated in the near-genocide of a race of beings whose destinies are intimately entwined with our own. I have suffered the murderous rage of a woman I love with all my soul. I have felt the keen loss of my brethren. I have suffered the agonies and joy of rebirth. I have become mortal, and I will know what it is to meet God when at last my time comes.

Is there anyone or anything that stands in your way of getting it?

No.

When you get what you want, then what?

There will be peace.

What do you think you will get by having it or not having what you want?

God will bring me the love of the one I have struggled so long to guide through the darkness.

Does anyone else know what it is that drives you?

I'm told not very many people understand me, no. Perhaps there are some of my brethren who have come to see the rightness of following God's path, that it will bring salvation instead of war.

If so, whom?

The Sixes. Perhaps the Eights, the Threes.

In time, I hope the Five will come to see the rightness of the path we are all compelled to walk.

Are they a help or a hindrance toward your end goal?

They are a great help, and they are a solace to me in this time of uncertainty. We are splintered from our own when before we have always existed in solidarity, so I find their presence a comfort. I even find it in those who rebel against their own nature, though I don't imagine they want to hear that.

OOC: This prompt response features AU!Leoben, in the Earth!AU-verse. A nod to arrow_of_apollo for the rations comment. ::grins::

3. What can you do in thirty minutes better than anyone else you know?

Cook.

Well, that's probably not very fair. I could cook better than Sam and Kara both in any amount of time you give me--thirty minutes, six seconds, two hours. Don't worry, they'll agree with you. If I didn't cook, we'd probably be starving. If you've ever seen Kara try and fix something, you'd know what I mean. Sam isn't much better, but he admittedly doesn't burn everything the way Kara does. I'm not saying this to make anyone angry. It's just a good thing I'm here to do the cooking, or else we'd be severely malnourished.

Thankfully, fish have finally been declared safe for consumption for both human and Cylon. I was getting tired of rice, as was everyone in my household. Incidentally, they finally realized our "household of three" was not simply two adults and one child. My thanks to whoever made that particular change.

Before I lived here on Earth, I used to cook on the basestar. We had processed food that was prepared by Centurions, but they didn't exactly make things that were supposed to be flavorful. One day, I went back in the area we used as a kitchen and started looking around at all the things we had, deciding if I could do something with the ingredients, make something a bit less bland. We used to eat meals, all of us, without thinking about what exactly it was we were eating; I mean, of course, in terms of taste, spices, that sort of thing. Humans ate, so we ate. It never occurred to us that humans also cook. Or that they enjoy cooking, or enjoy eating, for reasons other than practicality.

We thought that way about a lot of things. Food. Sex. Sleep.

My model has never been very individualistic, not like some of the others--the Sixes, the Eights. But you see, we all rebelled in some way against our programming. We have all become more human in our own ways. My sister Eight has borne life. The Sixes know love, know pain, more fully than any of us could ever imagine. The Three's dared to seek that which lies in the shadows, that knowledge which was forbidden to all of us.

And I learned how to cook. Everyone was resistant, at first, when I tried to explain what I was doing (there were a lot of us to feed, of course, but there were a lot more of me to do the cooking). They didn't understand why I would bother with this strange task. It was good food, perfectly balanced, the right proportions for energy and health. It wasn't supposed to matter what it tasted like.

It did, though, to me. And eventually, the rest of them appreciated it. Eventually, the Centurions stopped doing a lot of the cooking.

Another little way in which we were changed, altered into beings with names instead of numbers. War broke out between the Cylon because we could not agree, because we no longer acted with a unity of purpose as we had before. And it started with small things; sleeping because it was pleasant to dream. Having sex because it felt good, even after we ascertained we would not breed by doing so. Eating because things taste good.

In a flood, all you remember is the deluge. You don't think about those first few clouds in the sky, covering the sun.

"As long as you keep getting born, it's alright to die some times." - Orson Scott Card

Each time I died, it was painful. I died the first time from radiation poisoning and a blow to the head. The second time, I was sent out of an airlock. Kara killed me six times on New Caprica; chopsticks to my neck, razorblades, blunt objects, a knife in my ribs. It hurt, of course, as it did when I was re-downloaded. The experience became successively more painful each time.

I think this was God's way of teaching us to be more careful. Nothing ever comes without a price to pay; we Cylons had unlimited bodies to download into, but God saw that we were punished for our mistakes through the pain of rebirth. It was also a pain that brought a singular clarity, a tightening of purpose--at least, it did for me. I can't speak for my brethren.

Now, we no longer have this ability. God gave it to us for a time so that we could learn, so that we could become self-actualized. So that we could know what perils await us on our paths. So that we would be vigilant.
We had our chance to learn, to master what we would need to succeed in mortality.

I don't know if there are others of my model who have survived the Cylon civil war. I feel an emptiness when I think of them, my brothers, when I reach out and do not hear them answer. If they exist, they are too far away for me to feel them. My model has always been singular, content to walk alone, so perhaps it is fitting there is only one of me left.

There are others here, of course--D'Anna, Sharon. Caprica. There are even four of our venerated final five models, singular copies all, who have only ever known a name. I am called Leoben, I call my sister D'Anna, not Three. We have lost our numbers. We have taken names and those names have defined us. It is as it should be.

The next time I die it will be the end, and my soul will go to God. That is as it should be, too.

OOC: Somewhat related to Kara's post about New Caprica. This references deleted material from the episode Occupation.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

When I found her in the bathroom slicing her wrists, I knew I had to do something drastic.

I took Kara on New Caprica because I knew, I knew, the humans would form a resistance against the occupying Cylon force. We had taken their home from them once before, and they would not relinquish this new world without a fight. And I also knew that Kara would be at the forefront of that fight, would spill her warrior's blood on ground that was not Earth.

And I could not abide that.

Ostensibly, we were there to live in peace with the humans; peace, as long as they capitulated to our sovereignty. But I am not a fool, and I see the patterns that so many of my brethren would ignore. Our races are tied together with threads soaked in blood. Barbed wire stretches between us, joining human and Cylon in an eternal dance of war, with edges that tear and bleed. I would have this stop. I would smooth these edges, see that we find a way to live peacefully. Perhaps that is what others of my race wanted on New Caprica. But I could see the fires that smoldered in the distance, the destruction that was inevitable. If there was to be peace between us, it was not yet the time for it to bloom.

So I took Kara with me. I locked her away from the fighting, so that I could keep her safe. I tried to stir within her the love that I have seen she will have for me. But that did not work. I found her spilling her blood anyway, on the floor of our home instead of the frozen ground outside. I saw then that I would have to watch her constantly, allow her no freedom, if I wanted to ensure no harm came to her. It never occurred to me that she would harm herself. Life is a gift from God. I know this now more than I ever have, with the loss of our resurrection ships. I don't know if she was really going to do it. I hope that it was an act borne of desperation because of the unhappiness I was causing her.

The Cylon have found we can breed with the humans, that we can bring forth new life. And this is a miracle, a gift from God, but I have told Kara that I do not think it is our destiny to have a child. However, it is our destiny to be together and to find Earth. And I knew this, and I had to ensure she lived to see that it became a reality. So much depended on it.

So I took the child, Kacey. I took her and gave her to Kara. Kacey was the promise of Earth, Kacey was Kara's hope for the future. Kacey gave Kara a reason to live. Kacey brought Kara close to me, for a time, as well. It is a time I cherish, even now, even though I know how badly it ended and the damage it has wrought between us.

There was nothing else I could have done. If Kara had died, our hope for the future died with her. And I know Kara Thrace very well, and that there is no battle she would not fight, even if it meant her death. She was even willing to destroy herself to escape me. What could I have done? Trapped within her was the burning light of an angel of God, and I had to ensure her survival until the time was right for that light to pour forth and lead us all--human and Cylon--the promise of Earth.

I am not sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting her, because I love her. But I would do it again.

Interesting. I would never say I'm an extrovert, and I think there are a few people who may disagree with my being "overly kind natured".

You are extremely intellectual, curious, imaginative but possibly not very practical.

I have definitely heard that assessment of my personality before.

OOC: This prompt features AU!Leoben, and references the AU!verse, with Sam (notmyfate) and Kara (burnandrave).

[Leoben doesn't lock a single word of this from anyone.]

It's come to my attention that Kara and Sam both think of me as not having a temper. My fellow Cylon models often thought this as well, and I admit that it amuses me that everyone seems to see me as eternally calm. I will admit that I usually am, and I do believe that comes directly from my acceptance of myself, my place in the universe, and the inevitably of my fate.

But I do have a temper, certainly. I think it's very hard for Kara and Sam to notice, since mine is somewhat--let's say less obvious than theirs. I think a hurricane is less obvious than Kara in a temper, and Sam might not want to hear this, but he definitely has his moments. It's very interesting to be the most even-tempered in a household with two other very hot-headed individuals. Apparently if I am not throwing things, I'm never angry.

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Actually, I'm a 2.

But this is mostly very accurate. Of course, I have no idea what I was like as a child, because I never was one.

Your result for The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Test...

5 - the Observer

Thanks for taking the test !

4. Ficlet: It's time we see your muse's softer side. Share an intimate moment with us of your muse and one of their children while an infant. If your muse has no children of their own, feel free to have them borrow one from a friend.

OOC: I went a somewhat odd direction with this prompt; hopefully it makes sense. The Six referenced in this ficlet is not any particular Six, canon or RP based.

When Leoben dies for the second time, after the human president airlocks him, he's reborn with a gasp, fingers stretching towards the sky. He can't get enough air in his lungs, can't breathe enough in to satisfy the simple terror of suffocation, can't forget the chill of space against his skin seconds before the blackness of death took him.

Leoben sits up, covered in the substance that gives all humanoid Cylons life, resting his cheek on his knees as he takes slow, deep breaths. There's a Six with him, which is nice; she murmurs welcome back, brother, and leans down, pressing a kiss on his forehead. She helps him stand on unsteady legs, gives him a towel to rub at the sticky substance covering his face and hair, runs warm hands down his cool skin as he adjusts to his new body. This is only the second time he's been through this, but it's more painful than before. The first time, Leoben had been intrigued by every moment of the process; now, he just wants to acclimate himself, have a few moments to think about what has happened.

Now I've known hunger, and fear, and torture. And the stretches of time between waking and death, the odd ritualism of execution.

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Your Slogan Should Be

Leoben Keeps Going and Going and Going

Well, that was true until the resurrection ships were destroyed.

OOC: Prompt is in the AU!Verse, and features AU!Leoben.

all these walls//are coming down

Kara hardly ever relaxes, Leoben notices. When she's at home and not occupied with some task, she paces, measures the distance of their house, twists her hands together. One night, Sam is out and he's making dinner, so he asks her to come help him just to give her something to do. Having a task, some sort of purpose, it's one of the few things that settles her. There are other things, but he's actually hungry for food at the moment.

She's talking to him about flight school, and her voice isn't angry, isn't tense. Leoben smiles at her, gives her some vegetables to slice for dinner. The vegetables are new, having just received the seal of approval for human (and, he assumes, Cylon) consumption. Kara has quick hands while she slices. He likes the way she pushes her hair out of her face while she works, the low timbre of her voice while she talks.

Leoben turns just as Kara finishes with the vegetables, in time to see her standing behind him with a knife in her hand, the blade pointed at his back. He takes a step back out of instinct, the glint of the light shining on the cool metal blade, and feels his back hit the counter. He realizes his mistake when she flinches like she's been slapped.

They stare at each other for a long moment. Kara puts the knife down and turns away from him. "Frak me," she says quietly, and he can see her hands are shaking.

"Kara," Leoben says, and then, when she doesn't raise her head--she's staring resolutely down at the vegetables, her fingers still resting on the hilt of the knife--he says again, more sharply, "Kara."

She looks up at him, her eyes bright, face flushed. He doesn't know if she's upset at him for his reaction, or if she's upset at him for New Caprica. Perhaps it's both. Leoben holds his hands up, palms forward, and his voice very, very calm. "You just took me by surprise."

She's watching him warily, and doesn't speak. He tries again. "This was bound to happen, sooner or later." Leoben holds his hand out, patiently, waiting. Kara hands him the knife hilt-first.

"I'm finished with these," she says, unnecessarily, waving towards the vegetables. She's watching him, watching the knife. Leoben lays it on the counter, point facing away from either of them, and gestures for her to hand him the plate.

"I think I'm going to go paint," she tells him, stepping away, backing towards the door.

Leoben nods. "I'll call you when dinner is ready," is all he says. There are many things between them that are sharp, painful. A knife is just one of many.