Letters from the Wasteland

My Dear Friends,

Between the failure of my marriage, what I consider to be the loss of two close friends, and the heavy losses at and destruction of Hale's Moon, I find myself drowning in sadness and loss. It's for that reason I've decided to take a hiatus - I will be spending this time in a monastery in deep reflection, searching for inner peace and acceptance of all these events and others so I can move forward with my life.

I hope you are all well during my absence - Each of you is in my thoughts and prayers, and in my heart, at every moment of every day. I'll return, hopefully a happier and less broken person, I just don't know how long it will take. Please understand that this is something I need to do.

Imrhien


((OOC Note: My own reasons for taking a break are very similar to Imrhien's. I am in too much emotional pain right now over many things which have transpired. I need to take a few steps back from it all in order to see a clear path around. I need to get past it all, and I need to remember how to be happy. I sincerely apologize to anyone who has been hurt by my recent emotional instability - I cannot make excuses for my behavior, I can only apologize, hope for forgiveness, try to move on, and try to find some inner peace. --D.))

Profile Memories

Re: my skills as a pilot -
Imrhien Fargis: I got confused about the coordinates.
Imrhien Fargis: Wash I ain't.
Nack Barnes: Imrhien is a leaf in a tornado.
---
Kent Baker: Okay, and i'm sorry you've been forced into the role of my new life/spiritual guru.
Imrhien Fargis: I'm a guru?
Imrhien Fargis: is that better than a bff?
---
Lauralai Toland: And you know what? If you piss Imrhien off, it's usually for a good reason.
---
Aeon Voom: thats...fluffy hair..
Imrhien Fargis nods.
Aeon Voom: very fluffy
Imrhien Fargis cracks up.
You: too much with teh fluff?
Aeon Voom: did i mentioned that your hair is fluffeh?
You: hm, no, I don't think so.
Aeon Voom: your hair is very fluffy
Aeon Voom: distracting me totally
Imrhien Fargis rolls around on the ground lauging.
You: Seana!
You: Aeon doesn't like my hair!
Seana Kawanishi giggles
Aeon Voom: look seana..her hair is fluffeh
Imrhien Fargis fucking dies laughing.
Seana Kawanishi plays with Immeh's hair
You: I don't think he likes my hair.
Aeon Voom: oh i do
Aeon Voom: but its distracting me a bit
Aeon Voom: did i said that is very fluffy?
You: distracting you how?
Aeon Voom: distracting my cuz of its fluffiness
Imrhien Fargis nods. "yeah, once.. maybe twice... perhaps once every 30 seconds for the last 10 minutes...."
---
Lorie Lilliehook wants a bazooka!
Nack Barnes: No bazooka!
Lorie Lilliehook pouts.
Lorie Lilliehook: Can I have the chainsaw then?
Nack Barnes: No pouting either.
Nack Barnes chuckles, "What would you do with a chainsaw, sweetie?"
Lorie Lilliehook: Um.. cut people up?
You: tell him you wanna be able to chop firewood very efficiently.
You: And the bazooka's for STARTING the fire.
You: Very romantical.
Imrhien Fargis nods.
Iggy Mimulus fights a giggle
Lorie Lilliehook looks at Nack, all serious-like, "I want the chainsaw to chop firewood very efficiently. *nods* Really."
Nack Barnes: Firewood. Yes, we have a lot of firewood cutting needin' to be done. Here on this DESERT MOON.
---
Imrhien Fargis thinks Lorie should definitely get that chainsaw so we can go take care of her "Oops, did I cut your arm off with the chainsaw?" list and my "Oops, did I beat your brains into pulp with my frying pan?" list.
Lorie Lilliehook laughs, "Yes!"
---
Amyla Wakowski: sheesh, that bitch is so deformed
Amyla Wakowski: her face creeps me out
Imrhien Fargis: she's got like Jay Leno Jaw From Hell!
Imrhien Fargis resists the urge to pop one of her tits and watch her go PPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT all across the room!
Amyla Wakowski: oh God.
Amyla Wakowski: from her Interests tab, under Skills: building railways and designing gorgeous female shapes, what a combo ;)
Amyla Wakowski shudders.
Amyla Wakowski: I hope she's better at railways, cos...
Amyla Wakowski just points.
Imrhien Fargis just fucking dies!
---
Archer Bleich: FUCK I JUST KILLED MY SELF WITH CRABS
---
Neutrino Nightfire: I'll try not to think about it while I'm doing my interview
Neutrino Nightfire: :: crosses fingers ::
Neutrino Nightfire: Because you know saying "quantum physics this, computer that, bubble bath" sounds so unimpressive
---
mcajabberwocky Tuck: your fake cow is a dick and trying to shake me for some cash
---
Imrhien's Pet Leet, OOM: i r ub3r
Pariah Urriah: I'm not good at reading leet-speak but I think your leet is rubber?
---
Mod Yokosuka looks around firefly trying to find the mind control device that makes us all want to go get with someone
Imrhien Fargis: it's the green water.
---
Imrhien Fargis: if I don't respond right away, it's cuz I'm in photoshop trying to make a sign that says NO TRESPASSING! Violators will be shot, survivors will be shot again!" in mandarin
Mod Yokosuka: sigh
Mod Yokosuka: its gona end up saying something like I have a sixth toe.
---
Amyla Wakowski: CAPSLOCK OF EXASPERATION?
---
Neutrino Nightfire blushes as he eavesdrops and spills spaghetti into his keyboardcompletelykillingthespacebar
Imrhien Fargis: OMG
Imrhien Fargis: NOT THE SPACEBAR!
Neutrino Nightfire: caplockofconcern?
Imrhien Fargis nods
Neutrino Nightfire: /mecovetsImmsspaces
---
Amyla Wakowski can't type.
Amyla Wakowski: TYPOS OF INCOHERENT RAGE
---
LilyBell Snoodle: Him a sweet mofo huh.
Imrhien Fargis falls over.
LilyBell Snoodle: Don't say the word "fuck". You supposed to say "jeffers".
---
Mod's Pet Leet: do u luv m3?
You: Mod...
Mod Yokosuka: yes
You: I thought you hated leets?
Amyla Wakowski: he's in exposure therapy
---
Nack Barnes: Who the fuck came up with the idea of putting SLAW on a bbq sandwich?
Nack Barnes: Gorram yankees could fuck up a wet dream.
---
Mannheim Collas: I'm bored without my GF
Sage Venkman: have you tried masturbation?
---
Imrhien Fargis: You mean... like... why do we laugh? or why do we laugh at something specific?
Ash Lutwag: hooo it's toooo late for questions like that
Imrhien Fargis: on the contrary, better to ask that late than early.
Imrhien Fargis: I can't do philosophy first thing in the mornin'.
Ash Lutwag: while my brain is foggy?
Ash Lutwag: well 1st comes coffee then life.
---
Cobb Compton: (( takin forever forr DCS to load - it's loading just slower than tryin' to plunge a 15 pound turd down a water savin toilet ))
---
Imrhien Fargis: Like, I have warm fuzzy feelings. It's gross. I could wear pink right now.
---
Aeon Voom: you got a real temper. and you got the skills to mess with teh best in teh sim
Aeon Voom: if someone pisses you off you most likely get the person down
Imrhien Fargis: And if not.... I can just yell at them til my wounded timer pops.
Aeon Voom: with your extraordinary potty mouth?
Imrhien Fargis nods.
Imrhien Fargis: nothin' says "verbal ass whoopin'" like dropping the F-bomb eleventy billion times in one sentence.
---
You: I could give you SO MANY landmarks.
Nack Barnes: She does that. Hands out landmarks. Landmarks Of $L Destruction!
Lorie Lilliehook: She really does General.
---
Krenshar Magic: Looking very sexy today Mrs Immi
You:I think I'mna wear this and use the frying pan next time the alliance attacks.
You: Maybe I can make that one guy pee again.
Krenshar Magic: ((thats not fair lol))
You: ((*cracks up!*))
You: ((all's fair in love and war!))
Aeon Voom adds "inhumane psychological warfare" to her alliance record
---
Tdstraitjacket Manamiko: what our firefly sims need is.... a legal system
Tdstraitjacket Manamiko: you could always put [them] on trial
Imrhien Fargis: I thought Lorie was our legal system.
Tdstraitjacket Manamiko: death by flame thrower isnt a legal system haha
Imrhien Fargis: sure it is!
Imrhien Fargis: you see how much crime we have in Blackburne?
Tdstraitjacket Manamiko: yah true
---
Nack Barnes hands Neutrino the silver medal of utter silence destruction.
Nack Barnes is glad someone spoke finally. His hands were shaking from the need to fill the silence but was also consumed by a curiosity to how long silence could last.
---
Jayne Szondi: It's just one of those things like... peeing yer pants in dark slacks. Gives a nice warm feeling but no one really is likely to notice.
---
Imrhien Fargis SQUEEEEES happily for Amy and Chol!!
Tillery Woodhen: OMG!
Tillery Woodhen totally loses butch points and SQUEES as well!
---
You: also, I'm like super slow on the uptake tonight
You: cuz I'm tired. And insane. And listening to Yanni.
Cholgosh Swindlehurst: Bein' in a coma will do that to a person.
You: As an afterthought, "insane" and "listening to yanni" are kind of the same thing.
---
Imrhien Fargis puts on Type O so she doesn't lose her mind and start eating people, because Avril Lavigne's music is the 2nd leading cause of Reaverism.
Neutrino Nightfire: After Abba, I presume.
Imrhien Fargis nods.
---
Meyers Thalheimer: hrm.. Mod could start an entirely new career.. walking message board.
AlisonLynn Haystack: rent box space?
Pariah Urriah: but I agree on the dry erease, because if we have to tack messages to him he could get holey
Imrhien Fargis can't imagine Mod being Holy. Just... can't. She'd have a crisis of faith.
Pariah Urriah: he'd be holey-er than thou, and that would just be annoying
Pariah Urriah has a few pairs of underwear that is so holey it looks like it just descended from Heaven
Imrhien Fargis: so holey that you could chop 'em up and serve 'em as communion?
Pariah Urriah: take this underwear, as a symbol of .. um
Gray Beam: only if they are edible ....
Pariah Urriah laughs, Gray
Gray Beam: uh, I mean....
Imrhien Fargis: Eucharistic Undies.
---

Yesterday Was Not My Best Day Ever

Guess Ceasar was right 'bout it not bein' entirely safe for me to be commutin' back and forth 'tween Blackburne and Hale's Moon. Though, to be fair, I wasn't commutin' so much as I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time yesterday. I'd flown my starfury, Merkabah, over to Hale's Moon to see Aeon and work on wedding plans, and the place was deserted. Reckoned I'd stick around and see if anyone showed, and was doin' just that when the 'lliance troops attacked.

I didn't have time to get on the Cortex, but I shot two quick messages to Amy and Ash so they could get the word out. Don't reckon I got a clear count of how many attacked the town. I know I shot a couple up real good 'fore I took hits and went down. Two of 'em came over to check if I was alive, kicked me, and then patched me up. Checked me for identification, too, which, thank the good Lord, I didn't have on me. Then, they cuffed me and started tuggin' me off t'ward the desert, which was when Ash showed up shootin' and yellin' for me to run. I couldn'ta or you can bet yer happy ass I woulda. One of the troops kept draggin' me to the desert, where their dropship was, while the other covered us.

I got shoved in the dropship and left on the floor at gunpoint as we took off, headed for God only knows where. Ended up in some kinda hangar... Didn't get such a great look at it from the outside mainly cuz I was hurtin' so bad I couldn't move. My spleen'll never be the same. Anyway, it wasn't a long flight, really. 'Fore I knew it, that one that patched me up, the private, was draggin' me by my hair out into the hangar, where he started tryin' to interrogate me. I wouldn't even give 'em my name, which's 'bout as far as we got. He backhanded me every time I tried gettin' cute. Then he broke my wrist. I still wouldn't talk. So he pulled my own gun on me and chambered a round. Figured I was dead. Even said a prayer. But the officer stopped him. Dunno why. Guess they needed me to talk.

The officer told him to throw me in the brig for a few days, so I got dragged by my hair again. The officer took my cuffs off, which was real stupid of him, and the private ripped one of my bandages off and stuck his finger in the bullet hole, twistin'. Hurt almost as bad as him breakin' my wrist. They shoved me in the cell and locked the door. The thought of tryin' to hurt 'em and make a break for it occurred to me, but after that, what? I can pilot Merkabah, Chrysalis, and Serendipity, but it's cuz I actually studied the manuals and practiced with 'em. Ain't so certain me tryin' to fly some 'lliance ship'd work out so great for me. And 'sides that, Ash knew they took me. I figured she'd try to find Aeon or Nack, and someone'd come rescue me.

That crazy girl... she somehow managed to round up a few folks - Amy, x0x0 and Sunray - and flew her firefly up to wherever it was I was bein' held. They stormed in shootin'. Dunno exactly what happened, but I could hear shoutin' and shootin', but I reckon they got Sunray, cuz I heard 'em comin' with her, sayin' they was gonna throw her in the brig. I was ready when they got there. They opened the door, shoved her in and started to close it, but I busted out, slammin' the private 'cross the face with my elbow. I reckon I musta jolted his brain outta socket, cuz he couldn't quite figure out whether to shoot me or punch me. I hit him 'til he collapsed, and then kicked the ever-lovin' shit outta him. Unsportsmanlike, I know, but I was good and pissed. The officer came runnin' in, and I decked him with my good hand. He tried to fight back, but I think 'tween the band of pissed women in hangar with guns and me beltin' him round the head repeatedly, he was kinda frazzled, cuz he went down as easy as the private. Wonder if they're dead. I didn't exactly think to check, as I was in kinda a hurry.

I grabbed Sunray, whose arm was jacked all to hell, and we huffed it out to the hangar (after I grabbed Regina and Renata, my M4 Redemptions, 'course), where Ash, Amy and x0x0 was waitin' with Ash's boat. Alarms were goin' off, lights flashin'. I figured we wasn't gettin' away that easy, so 'fore I strapped myself in for a bumpy ride, I grabbed a roll of duct tape so I could work on makin' my right hand serviceable with a gun - I basically taped my wrist so I couldn't move it, then taped the gun to my hand so all I had to do was aim and pull the trigger.

They sent a bomber after us. Soon as we got in atmo that bastard was firin' at us. By that time, the call'd gone out, and there was a bunch more browncoats runnin' around. It was chaos, everyone all over the place, tryin' to figure out what was goin' on. Eventually, everyone figured out we was under attack and started shootin' at the bomber. Guess we damaged him pretty bad, cuz he took off back to...wherever he came from.

And then, it was over. Everything was a flurry of tendin' to wounds and cussin' at the gorram 'lliance. Everybody was fine. Y'know, alive. I reckon I'mna be hurtin' for a good long while til I heal up. And looks like the weddin's gonna be off for a bit, til I get this gorram cast off my arm.

Interestin' development last night, though. Seems x0x0 went lookin' for trouble over in Washtown. She boarded an 'lliance boat parked there and started snoopin'. Not only did she get discovered and have to kill the men on board (not cryin' here), but she found somethin'... a photograph of me with the Lieutenant with a message talkin' 'bout needin' to acquire my genetic material for testin'. x0x0 thinks it's 'bout me seein' colors now and my eyes changin'. Begs the question, though - Did I get taken prisoner randomly cuz they wanted some kinda information, or did I get taken prisoner cuz of that picture? Seems like it was random bad luck, considerin' how I was treated, and how easy I got away, and I'm fair certain once the news't they had me in custody and escaped, if I didn't kill the two purplebellies, they'll prol'ly wish I had.

In any case, I reckon I'mna need to watch my step from here on out. Maybe I should ask Jayne if it's safe for me to be out in the wastes yet, cuz bein' scarce mightn't be such a rotten idea.

Feelin' The West

Bump.

Somethin' happened yesterday. Somethin' strange. Somethin' scary. Somethin' maybe life-alterin'. Don't reckon I'll ever be the same again.

Started in the bar. x0x0 showed up in a dress lookin' all beautiful and feminine, and she backed Neut into a corner askin' if he liked her. Bein' a man, he tried to wriggle his way out of it by avoidance or answerin' with questions. Sometimes, an "ain't that enough?" answer just don't cut it. She's been feelin' a might insecure lately, and I think she got tired of him bein' wishy washy, which I can understand, cuz I been there my own self. Sometimes ya just gotta have definites, cuz unsure's sure as hell don't help shape yer existence.

Anyway, she got upset and went to the shelter. I was on my way to my sewerpipe when I changed my mind and decided to go check on her, cuz sometimes, just knowin' someone cares 'nough to come after you to make sure you're okay makes things a little better. I think she'd been cryin'. She was layin' there, and I was sayin' some men're scared to admit their feelin's, and she stood up and looked at me and said, "Bump."

Now, I normally woulda passed it off as normal x0x0 bein' random behavior, cuz she does that lots, just sayin' somethin' outta the blue. But it caught my attention, cuz I'd heard Jayne say the same word the day b'fore. Not heard her in my head, neither. She actually spoke. Kinda freaked me out when she said it, cuz, y'know, Jayne don't speak. At all. But as the day went on, I forgot. 'Til x0x0 said it last night. So I repeated it as a question. "Bump?" Everything went black.

Next thing I knew, I was tryin' to bury my face in the floor, my head felt like there was an angry midget with a pickaxe tryin' to bust outta my skull, x0x0 was screamin' and cryin', and Chol was yellin' at her. Chol wanted her to get outta the shelter. I think he thought she'd hurt me. And I think he was afraid she'd hurt me more. I could hear panic in his voice. He told me I had to get up and go to with him to the medpav so he could figure out what happened to me.

I opened my eyes. It was unreal, the explosion of colors that assaulted me. It physically hurt my 'ntire body. Each person I saw had this brilliant... the closest I could come to describin' it is to say they looked like stars close up, just smaller, and different colors on each person. It scared the hell outta me. Thought my brain'd gone funny, like maybe I'd hit it. But the more I looked, the more I realized it was ethereal and everyone's I saw was unique.

Not sure what it's all 'bout. Amy thinks it's me bein' able to see peoples' auras. But the question is, did x0x0 do it to me, or was it just a coincidence? Maybe she opened my brain up and let somethin' in. Don't rightly know, and doubt I ever will. All I know's that it's hard to look at folks now. The colors are so vivid and bright, like full body halos, and it hurts my head. Maybe I'll get used to it. Hope I will. But for now, I'mna just wear sunglasses and try to avoid lookin' at anyone.

x0x0 wanted to leave. She felt horrible 'bout it, like it was her fault. I don't want her to go. She's as much a part of this place as I am. And it wasn't her fault, even if it was somethin' she did. It wasn't her intent. She's got a good heart, and that's what matters. I hope she stays 'round. I'll get through this one way or another, ain't like I'm maimed for life. My world view's just more dazzlin' than it was before.

Chillin' On Humpday

Rovin' Thoughts

I keep hearin' reports from Downing. I feel wretched, cuz I'm too chickenshit to go help. Part of it's my history there and my desire for self-preservation kickin' in, but also, I cant' seem to stop thinkin' 'bout what x0x0 said 'bout Reavers and slaughter there. Is there really gonna be some kinda attack on Downin'? x0 said Amy'd make it back from there fine. Me and Chol, though, wouldn't. I know some people think she's crazy... but she's been right before. I trust her. Cuz I ain't willin' to stake my life on her bein' crazy, but also cuz I'm fairly certain she don't mean no harm - she's tryin' to help.

I think x0x0's sorta like me - she belongs here, but she don't feel like she fits in. I know the feelin' well, and it ain't no picnic. It's lonely as hell. 'ventually, you start wonderin' why you even bother showin' up. And then, there's the agitation, the need to constantly be anywhere but where you are at the moment. I've been like that recently. And I seen it in her. I wanna help her, I wanna reassure her... but I feel the same way, and ain't nothin' I heard so far's made me feel a damn bit different.

I been talkin' a lot lately with Neutrino. 'specially when I'm upset. He seems to sense it, then tracks me down when I storm off toward my sewage pipe. 's funny, I normally don't wanna be 'round anyone when I'm like that, cuz most folks don't understand that it's a process I gotta go through to get where I'm okay with things. But Neut seems to understand I gotta go through all that, and don't try and force me out of my funks. He just talks and relates. And it helps, by God. He's a real insightful man. And a real good friend. I wish I could return the favor to him somehow. I'd like to see him happy, and I suspect that's only gonna happen when him an' x0x0 finally stop bein' stubborn and skeptical and realize they're totally in love with eachother.

And speakin' of... The lieutenant invited me on his ship. Twice. I feel weird goin' there, bein' as that it's a gorram 'lliance ship - like somehow I'm turnin' traitor or somethin'. But I ain't. He knows I'm browncoat through and through, and he knows I wouldn't hesitate to shoot him 'f he ever did anything to harm anyone on my side. But, I can't even rightly say what's goin' on there. He acted like we was old friends, like we hadn't... Well, he was a gentleman, to say the least. And he told me he thought we shouldn't... how'd he put it? We should act like we don't really know eachother 'round other people, for both our protection. Seems to think people here'll start thinkin' I'm turnin' traitor, which, I don't see happenin', cuz everyone here knows I'm as brown as ya get. But I understand for his sake, cuz if the 'lliance sees he's makin' friends with Independents, it could cause lotsa trouble for him. So, I'll play along and act like I don't know him from Adam when there's other people 'round. I think it makes it easier for me 'f I refer to him as 'the lieutenant' than as his name. Makes him less... personable. Makes whatever's between us seem more formal and distanced. Which's maybe better for me anyway. 'Cuz I honestly don't see him leavin' the 'lliance. They got him partly brainwashed, and even though I know he wants to tell 'em to go get stuffed and settle down in some small, quiet town like Blackburne, but he won't never do it. I'm prol'ly foolin' myself thinkin' anything of him. But, well, I am.

He tried givin' me food yesterday. And vitamins. I told him I ain't been real hungry lately. Which's true. The nausea makes it hard to get a good appetite up. 'specially when my last few meals've come right back up. But I talked to Chol and Amy 'bout it, and Chol says it's more'n likely the radiation gettin' to me. They both said it'll pass as my body adapts to it. Hope I adapt quick, this feelin' like I got the plague ain't doin' wonders for my mood. But yeah, not so sure I'm comfortable takin' food from the lieutenant... Dunno why. Just feels weird. Wrong. Somethin'. Maybe it's just 'cuz it's 'lliance supplies.

Guess I should be gettin' off here and tryin' to find Amy. Looks to be a pretty low-key night, which's good. Hopefully nothin' nasty'll show up and wreck the relaxation. But if it does, we'll be ready to shoot it into a bullet-riddled, twitchin' pile of hamburger meat... 'cuz that's what we do.

Sultry [a narrative]

The heat was getting to her. It was sticky and clinging, oppressive and smothering, especially in the bar, where the heat from sweaty bodies mingled with the stifling torridity. Beads of sweat trailed down her torso in rivers, and her perspiration-soaked clothes stuck to her like a second skin. Rising slowly, she ambled out the door into the night, the open air a few degrees cooler, and continued out across the yard of the bar, the hint of a breeze caressing her damp form.

She knew exactly where she was going, even if the sultry heat was sapping her energy, and her steps fell almost instinctively, without her paying one bit of attention to her path. She'd travelled this exact course with a disturbing regularity, because lately, she'd felt compelled to be alone much more than usual - there was an inexplicable barrier between herself and other people, and she frequently found herself bouncing back and forth between detesting human company and longing with all her heart for it. Normally, she preferred to be surrounded by her friends, and this new development left her disquieted.

With practiced effort, she clambered up onto the sewage drainpipe, immediately pulling her legs up against her chest and hugging them as she rested her head on her knees. From up there, she had a good view of the valley of wasteland stretching out to eternity before her, and what little breeze there was offset the stench of the raw, green sewage spewing up from the ulcid sphyncter of the abused planet. Nobody came over here willingly. Or, at least, not unless there was a damn good reason to. Warning signs were nailed, tacked, and plastered across every available surface in the surrounding area, accompanied by a cement barrier, all of which discouraged public loitering. She figured the possible ill-health effects were negated by her desire for solitude, so this was where she came to think.

Putting her finger on exactly what was wrong was impossible. It wasn't as though whatever was eating at her was a lone and easily defeated entity. It was nameless, thusfar, though she had a pretty good idea of most of the factors involved. There was, of course, the lieutenant, and everything x0x0 had discussed with her that morning with regard to him. And then, there was the sense of utter isolation from the rest of the population of Blackburne, though it wasn't as though she was actually isolated from anyone, figuratively or literally. The light-devouring orb of abject misery pulsing deep within her was dragging her further and further down into the depths of despair.

There, that was what it was. She was in despair. Only, she didn't know or understand why. She had no good reason to surrender herself to such intense melancholy. She was alive, she had shelter, food, medicine, friends who cared about her... So why this absolute despondency?

On some level, she felt like an outcast. It wasn't as though she didn't get along with everyone, and it wasn't as though anyone was pushing her out into the fringes. It was something in her, tugging her, separating her, isolating her completely. There were times when she felt as though she was standing outside a glass house with her nose pressed against the window, watching everyone inside, even those she was closest to. On the other hand, there were also moments where she was inside the glass house, beating her fists against a locked door in a futile attempt to get outside. She was either one or the other, and malcontent had settled in, making her antsy and impatient in either situation.

And then, there was the lieutenant. She couldn't rightly make heads or tails of him. And that drove her absolutely insane, not being able to understand him. Perhaps that was why she was so fascinated by him - he was a complete enigma to her. He was entirely unpredictable to her, and she had a sinking feeling that she was doing everything horribly wrong all across the board. She strongly suspected that he was already lost to her. Possibly even to himself. He was the enemy, technically, and never in her strangest dreams did she imagine she'd be connoitering with such a person right on the boundary between "us" and "them." But she couldn't get him out of her head, and it made her want to scream until she was mute out of utter frustration.

Another part of her feared him. A lot. Not just because of what his uniform, his choice of career, represented, but of what he, himself, represented to her. She had vowed never to let herself have those kinds of feelings for anyone ever again. And here she was, tied up in knots over him, and had been for weeks. Oh yes, he terrified her entirely.

Feelings of foreboding were also clawing at her. She had some subconscious sense of something sinister on the horizon, slinking slowly closer and spelling disaster for Blackburne. There was no rhyme or reason for it, it was just there. And talking to x0x0 about it earlier in the day hadn't helped her - it had only compounded her anxiety, knowing that someone else felt it, as well. but the only thing she could do was wait and pray, because there was nothing to be done to prevent whatever catastrophe loomed ahead.

Her head hurt. It had been aching a lot in recent days. Tying that pain in with her now-frequent nausea, she felt like a walking plague. But she wasn't sick. She had no other symptoms, and so, she assumed she was just deprived of some vitamin or another. But it was annoying enough to help shove her a little further down into the tar pit of her depression.

Releasing her embrace on her legs, she eased herself back carefully, bringing her arms up behind her head for cushioning. Staring up at the heavy night sky, she sighed, letting all of those thoughts swim through the chaos of her consciousness, too sapped of energy to attempt sorting them out again. Her only hope was that with time, all things would become clear.

The night sky stirred, breathing out a soft breeze to kiss her goodnight, almost as if assuring her that everything would be alright, as she closed her eyes and let sleep seduce her into blissful unconsciousness.

Walkabout With A Cut Lunch

So, I been tryin' to get my head together. Took a couple days to go huntin' out in the wastes, and did my damnedest to keep clear of any 'lliance camps. And anyone else, for that matter. Sometimes a gal just needs some time to think, yanno? Truth be told, though, I ain't sure I'm any better off than when I started.

First off, trustin' anyone in a gorram 'lliance uniform's a gorram mistake. I learned that much. That lieutenant's light years away and laughin' at my gullible ass by now as he sips some high-falutin' drink on some cushy chair with his gorram gold spoon in his hand. Parta' me wants to shove that gold spoon up his rear, but the other part quietly says to chock it up to wishful thinkin' and move along. Thinkin' I might go for middle ground here and shoot him 'f I ever see him 'round here again. He is 'lliance, after all, and he don't have permission from Nack to be roamin' about. Chances are, the bastard's ID'd all us that have good reason to keep under 'lliance radar and transmitted it back to purplebelly headquarters. I really will shoot him if he did. Some folks tried to tell me he'd come back for me, like x0x0 and Neutrino, but I don't see that one happenin', 'less it's with a pair of cuffs and a warrant with my birth name on it. Or, hell, my current name, for that matter. I ain't real popular with the 'lliance as either.

Seein' Aeon last weekend was kinda a shock to my system. Not sure what to do about that. Cuz there's definitely attraction between us. 'least on my end, there is, and I'm assumin' based on the apology he gave me for actin' like he did on Sunday, he ain't exactly not interested, either. But there's a lotta stuff to take into consideration - mundane stuff, if ya catch my drift - and I just dunno if I'm ready to jump into that. It scares me lots. So I still got that to figure out. Cuz I really just dunno what to do.

I'm sure lots's gone on since I been gone. I'll be curious to catch up on the latest happenin's in Blackburne and elsewhere. Wonder if everyone here missed me as much as I missed them.

In This Case, Maybe It IS Defense Is The Best Offense...

Between my crisis of conscience, an enlightenin' talk with Nack Barnes, gov'ner of Blackburne Downport, and an offer I couldn't refuse from Amyla an' Cholgosh, I've found myself back on Blackburne. Guess some things weren't meant to be - terrorism ain't really my cuppa tea anyway, so I ain't even real upset with my decision.

It was certainly interestin' explainin' I'd temporarily lost my mind to Cap'n Card, but when I told him what I'd been plannin', he said he wouldn't drop me on Osiris - 'nfact, he wouldn't even let me get off The Reverie when we made port. But he did get me a box of chocolate cupcakes. Said he reckoned they'd help with my Uncle Grouchy visitin' or somesuch nonsense. As much as the man hates the 'lliance, I was real surprised when he told me to get on back home where I belonged. He's a good man. Said he was glad I finally found a place in the 'verse.

From what I heard from Nack, it sorta sounds as though the 'lliance is gearin' up for a second round of war, what with continuin' to attack Hale's Moon. He said that was how the last war started, and he's advisin' everyone he meets to start stockin' up on ammo and food. But basically, he made a comment 'bout not directly attackin' 'em to give 'em a reason to attack us - instead, we should all be preparin' for the day when the 'lliance comes back so we can break their teeth. Made lots of sense. It hit me real hard, how I kept flounderin' over what I was gonna do on the central planets to attack 'em, cuz some part of me knew it was wrong. Whereas, if the 'lliance showed up on Blackburne lookin' for a fight, I wouldn't hesitate to kill every one of 'em. Guess it's the difference between bein' a hired soldier and someone protectin' what's theirs - the hired soldier don't go that conviction, they're just followin' orders.

As for Amy an' Chol... Well, it's somethin' I've wanted for a good long while now, and I couldn't say no. Prol'ly'll be sorta awkward startin' out, mainly mostly for me, cuz I'm worried 'bout boundaries. I'm sure it'll pass with time and experience. We'll have to see where it goes.

On the whole, I gotta say I'm glad to be home. There's a little part of me that's sad over not stickin' it to the 'lliance, but that part's just gonna have to deal with it. Makes more sense to do things this way.

Waves Home (A Message)

Amyla,

Right now, you're prol'ly wonderin' where in the world I got off to. You might even know. More'n likely, you know, cuz you got this way of seein' in my head and knowin' what I'm gonna do 'fore I do. I just hope you ain't angry with me, though I'd understand if you are.

I can't put details 'bout what I'm doin'. You know that. All I know is, I'm havin' second thoughts 'bout this whole thing - they got friends and family, too, misguided as they all are, and I'd become somethin' like 'em if I gave 'em what they gave us. On the other hand, I gotta do somethin'. It'll keep goin' on, they'll just keep plowin' through us 'til they get to Blackburne and instead of Aeon and Str8 and Khaz, it'll be you and Chol and Nack and Laure and Lorie and everyone else we care 'bout. I gotta stop it. I gotta send 'em a message that says, "Leave us alone," or "We won't tolerate this!" I just ain't figured out how yet.

Please don't hate me over this. It's somethin' I gotta do, it's part of who I am, and I couldn't live with myself if I stood by and watched my friends get destroyed.

I hope you're well, and Chol. Take care of that babe and try not to get in too much trouble. I miss you all.

All my love,
Immy

In The Black

I sorta understand what x0x0 was talkin' 'bout, bein' out in space. Maybe I ain't psychic like her, but there's somethin' about the vast, silent blackness that quiets your mind. I hope she's okay. Last I heard, she'd run off on that job with that Shadowbroker fellow, and it gave me a right sense of dread. I reckon Neutrino went chasin' after her. Don't surprise me none - them two's entirely twitterpated over eachother. I think, though, Neutrino's too stubborn to admit it to himself, and x0x0... well, she's maybe a little afraid of it. Way I see it, they just need to 'fess up to eachother and have it done, cuz life's too short. I really do hope they're both safe.

Maybe I'm just nervous 'bout all this. My mind's made up, so I know I ain't backin' out of it. I'm just on edge. It almost feels like I'm watchin' myself headin' for a wreck in slow motion. I'm fairly certain I won't survive this, and there's somethin' tellin' me to turn 'round and go home. Maybe it's just the black edgin' in. Ain't a comfortable feelin', I know that much. But if I don't do somethin', I ain't gonna have a home to go back to. If I live through this.

Cap'n card knows somethin's up. You don't survive long in this 'verse by bein' a dum-dum, and he's onna the more perceptive men I ever knew. I can see by the way he looks at me, his eyes searchin' my soul and askin', "What've you got up yer sleeve, little butterfly?" But he won't ask me, I don't reckon. He knows me better'n that. Not straight out, anyway.

He asked me earlier as we was catchin' up if I'd heard 'bout what happened on Hale's Moon. I'm fairly certain he saw it when I told him I had, the images flashin' through my head. As far as he knows, though, I'd been there and knew some of the folks who'd been hurt and killed. He saw me ache deep down, though. He might know me better'n anyone, seein' as how he kinda made me. Ain't like it's romantic, neither. He's like a father to me. And like any good Pa, he knows somethin's up.

I can't get 'em outta my head. Everything keeps replayin' like some video, everything I saw. The Gen, scattered and burnin' across town. Khaz in that real white bed, flat mattress where there shoulda been a leg. Aeon... Aeon in that wheelchair, just starin' at the flames, like I'd never be able to have his arms 'round me again, like I'd never seen him standin' on the deck of the Gen, all cleverness and balls, tough as nails, tryin' to lead a crew of headstrong, crazy women and somehow managin' to do it well.

The gorram 'lliance don't see what they do. They don't know the people whose lives they maim. They don't care, they don't give a rat's ass for us poor bastards on the rim, just so long's we fall in line and let 'em order us all 'round like cattle so they can have their perfect gorram 'verse. They don't gotta look in my eyes and see how hard I'm cryin' as I think about the people I care for, cuz they didn't like 'em havin' different opinions.

It's gotta end. It's gotta. Somewhere, there's a line, and they're tryin' to scuff it out as they dance a jig over it. You can't destroy peoples' lives cuz they don't agree with you in how the 'verse should be. It's not how it works. People are people, and we're all different cuz God wanted variety. The 'lliance wants to stomp out the human spirit. And I'll be damned before I let that happen.

Maybe Cap'n Card knows my game, and maybe he don't. He's the kinda man, though, that understands sometimes you just gotta do somethin'. More'n likely, he'll let me go my way and hope I turn out okay. I sure hope I turn out okay.

's far as the other passengers go, I'm tryin' to keep to myself. The less they 'member 'bout me, the better off we'll all be. They seem pretty content lettin' be be a recluse, and I'm not gonna kick up a fuss over it. But the sooner this trip's over, the better.

Waitin' On My Ride

Cinco de Mayo came and went. Once upon a time on Earth That Was, it was the Mexican independence day. Don't rightly remember where I picked that up, but it kept blazin' through my mind last night. They fought a war, too, but I reckon they won, seein' as how they had their own independence day. We lost, so we got Unification Day.

How do you fight a war's already been lost? I was too young to fight in it, hell, I was too young to understand it. I ain't now, and I wish to God I coulda been there. Maybe one more woulda made a difference. More'n likely not, but at least I woulda been fightin' for somethin' I believed in.

But the war ain't over. Sure, there's no armies marchin' across fields of battle, but there's still a war. Gorram 'lliance says it's won, comin' 'round and tellin' folk how to live, how to think - meddlin' where they got no business doin' so - but they still act like they're in a war when they send teams of op'ratives to blow up ships and kill people. And they ain't won at all. There's still a spark here and there, there's still life in the cause. People won't lay down and die, no matter what the outcome of the damn war was. I know I ain't.

I made all my arrangements. Got in contact with The Lone Reverie - Cap'n Card's makin' out alright and so's the crew. They got a few new faces, he said on his wave, but they were survivin'. I hate lyin' to the man - he gave me everything - but I don't want 'em dragged into this if things go south for me. The less anybody knows, the better. I told him things had got hot and I needed a lift in a bad way - reckoned I'd try campin' out on one of the core planets for a bit, seein' as how nobody in their right mind'd look for me there. Pretty sure he bought it. The man taught me about subterfuge, so he may well see clean through me. I reckon he'd try and help me if he knew, cuz if anyone hates the 'lliance, it's him. But he's got a good thing goin' and a crew needin' watchin' out for, so I can't be lettin' him take those risks. 'Sides. This is my rampage.

I figured on goin' to Osiris first. I can spend some time gatherin' information, get the lay of the land, and figure out how to go 'bout firin' the first shot. I'd do some more plannin' here, but I can't be sure how close the feds watch the nets, and I don't want nothin' leadin' back here. So maybe it's like marchin' into Parliament armed with a huntin' rifle and a sketchy plan to end my life in a blaze of glory, but not so much. I plan to be careful. Said I wouldn't mind dyin' fightin' for what I believe in, but I sure as hell'd rather live through it so I can enjoy my freedom in the end.

I arranged my affairs, though. Made certain if anythin' happened to me, my friends'd know, and they'd be taken care of. I couldn't just leave it, cuz then the folks I care about'd prol'ly never know or understand what happened. I couldn't do that, 'specially not to Amyla. She won't understand anyway, and I know she'd try and stop me if she knew what I was plannin'. She's browncoat enough in her heart, but she's got so many ties to the 'lliance, and she's a pacifist on so many levels. Ain't sayin' she wouldn't pick up arms and do her damnedest to wreck the 'lliance if the right set of circumstances came up, but these ain't the right circumstances, and until they crop up, she ain't gonna understand why I gotta do this.

The Reverie's scheduled to dock tonight. Cap'n Card's just throwin' down anchor long enough for me to stow my stuff, and we're gone. We'll prol'ly stop over on Persephone for food and fuel, maybe see if he can't pick up a few passengers and a job. I'm hopin' it'll look like I got picked up there, just some transient worker. Ain't holdin' my breath, and ain't settin' foot off the boat while we're there. My luck, I'd run into my Pa or Christopher, and that'd be a fine wrench to throw in a sensitive engine.

For now, I'm waitin'. Kinda nervous, kinda anxious. Some small partta me's beggin' to stay, to go buy a place on Blackburne and live out my life there, not get involved with this mess. But I don't hold with bein' a coward. I can't. Those were my friends on Hale's Moon. And eventually, it'll end up in Blackburne, and my friends, my family, they'll have to suffer the same. I won't let that happen. So I'll just keep waitin' til my ride gets here.

They Won't Get Away With This

'lliance pursuit suddenly dropped on me. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why, except that either my craftiness had given 'em the slip, or that they found a bigger fish to fry. I wasn't countin' on the former, but I took a chance on the latter and caught a transport home. Seems they did find a bigger fish.

It was unreal, the destruction. Hale's Moon's still burnin', bits of flamin' debris is still scattered across the town. From the sketchy stories I got, seems like the 'lliance hit the town hard with a team of operatives, shootin' the place up, then blowin' up the ships, includin' the Gen. I don't understand, but I don't need to.

I stood by the beds of the Cap'n and Khaz, their still forms helpless beneath white sheets, tubes runnin' out of 'em in every which direction, steady, monotonous beepin' about the only thing tellin' me they were alive. Why'd this happen? Why're my friends and family, the people I care about, havin' to suffer this? I don't understand, but I don't need to. I don't even think I want to. 'Cuz that would mean I'd have to understand the sick minds of the 'lliance. Don't rightly know if I wanna know those bastards that well.

The 'lliance went too far this time. Dunno who issued the order to attack, and part of me don't really care. 's far as I'm concerned, the whole gorram government and any who side with 'em's responsible. Though, there's a little part of me that wouldn't mind comin' face to face with the insufferable asshole who made the decision, just so's I could give him a little bitta insight on what my crew, what the people on Hale's Moon, had to experience.

My mind's made up. Even if I gotta spend the rest of my life on the lam, even if the rest of my life consists of a week cuz of it, I'm gettin' revenge. Don't rightly care at this point what 'lliance civilians get hurt in the process of me retaliatin', cuz those civilians choose to live under that crackpot gov'ment, they choose to let this kinda thing happen, so to my way of thinkin', they partially to blame. Maybe it'll stir 'em outta that gorram grand fantasy they all live in and let 'em see the ugly side of reality. Maybe it'll just make 'em hate us more. Thing is, I won't let us sit back and let 'em stomp us into ashes.

Maybe God'll be mad at me, and maybe I'll burn in hell, but doin' nothin' sits even worse on my conscience than takin' vengeance for hurtin' good folk. I think God'll understand why I gotta do this. Maybe he'll even help, and maybe he agrees that it's about time someone wanted to show the 'lliance that humanity won't lay down and die, we won't succumb to their evil way of thinkin'. Maybe revenge is wrong, but sittin' around with yer thumb up yer ass while you wait in terror for people like that to decide to kill you ain't right either. People got a God-given right to freedom and to protect their own.

I'm just goin' by my conscience and firin' back in hopes it'll send a message to the gorram 'lliance. I want them to take one look at what I'm doin' and know I'm sayin, "It's an eye for an eye 'verse - what you do to me, I do back to you. So, let's just ignore eachother 'til we go away." They might be evil men, but we're naughty men (and women), and while they got superior technology, they ain't defendin' their homes and families and way of life like we are. That makes us more dangerous than all the superior technology in the 'verse. If I die defendin' what's mine, I won't be too upset. But I'll be damned sure I take as many of those bastards with me as I can. And when we all come face to face with God, it'll be me standin' there knowin' I did what I knew to be right, and them knowin' what they did was wrong. And I can live with that. Well, in a figurative kinda way.

A Beginning

I am a liar.

The thought was omnipresent, hiding itself within the labyrinth of her memories, lying in wait to ambush her conscious at a moment's notice. Those moments usually occurred as soon as she began to let go and forget her past, either coinciding with patches of brief, amnesiac, unabashed happiness in her life, or perhaps stirring in spite of them. It was nothing more than a thought and she was the only one who thought it, but it served as a red flag, a noisy alarm, an annoying reminder, and an accusing finger pointed to remind her that, indeed, she had started out in life as someone entirely different, and that she had effectively lied to what seemed like the entire universe about who she was. It had never occurred to her that in a way, who she was wasn't so much a lie, that it was really more of a simple omission of facts regarding her origin. In her mind, the exclusion of fact was the equivalent of actually uttering a falsehood. The guilt of it gnawed at her conscience constantly.

Here she was, a marauding stranger, certainly not the first, probably not the last, but somewhere in the middle of a long line of transients who had meandered their way across the lonely expanse of the 'verse. Most, like her, were in search of a little peace, a quiet home where happiness could find them. Because that was ultimately what she sought - a place with no memories, a place in which she could quietly flourish without fearing the soft, slithering sound of pursuit, and without the bitterness of dishonesty tainting her very being.

Had she been right to run away from her previous life? The comfort of the answer was what helped her continue on in her bleak existence. Yes, she had been right to flee from the greedy plans of her family and the unjust clutches of the law, because she believed in every man's God given right to live free, and because she had been innocent of the crime they were determined to blame her for.

She could have been happy there had certain events not taken place. She could have found contentment on Persephone, planet of her birth, of the first community she had known, home to her family and friends and unfortunate love interest, had things gone differently. She could have lived out her life in blissful ignorance of the evils of a corrupt government, never realizing that the Alliance was wrong despite the evidence of it staring her in the face, had she not been on the wrong end of the cane they used to beat humanity into compliant submission. No, running away from the ridiculously calamitous situation had allowed her to live, and having survived it burned away the rose-shaded screen from her childlike eyes, altering forever her perception of everything.

And now, after the years of wandering the deep, black corners of the ‘verse, she had come to Blackburne Downport, a small town on the moon, Blackburne, and for the first time in what seemed like the span of many lifetimes, she found herself wanting to remain in one place. It wasn’t the picturesque, ideal, romantic setting with cowboys and sunsets; Blackburne was abused and coarse, its people suffering the lasting effects of the indignity of Alliance wrath, having to carve their livelihood out of the smoking remains of nuclear fallout, existing in the constant shadow of threat from the wild, mutant things of the uninhabitable waste just beyond the borders of the town, and from the Reavers, which attacked brutally and without prejudice or sympathy. No, Blackburne and her residents were certainly not what most envisioned as being the ideal homestead, but this girl was able to peer through the unsightly layers of the town’s aesthetics to its heart, and what she found was the answer to her silent question. Here was hope: Here was a tightly knit community who looked out for each other, who prospered and struggled together, who fought tooth and nail at every moment of every day to maintain not only their own happiness, but the happiness of their neighbors, who had grown roots that reached so deep into the very essence of the land that they could never be extricated, who refused to submit to the yoke of Alliance control, who took in complete strangers with a warm intimacy generally reserved for none but the closest of friends. These people possessed a deep honor, and it touched her profoundly to be among such naked goodness.

Which was, perhaps, why the bitterness of her shady past haunted her now so much more than it ever had – the residents of Blackburne had picked her up and wrapped her in their warm embrace, never questioning who she was or why she was there, just accepting her as one of them. The fabrication of who she truly was, which she had put so much effort into concocting, rankled her, because here was a community who deserved to know the truth. In fact, she very much wanted to share her story with them, because she knew that they wouldn’t turn away from her. It wasn’t as though she desired to wear this mask – she wore it because it kept everybody safe, and for now, that was enough to warrant keeping the smokescreen in place.

Imrhien Fargis had not started out in life deceitful, nor was it her intention to be at what would ultimately be the commencement of her protracted journey. Imrhien wasn’t even her real name. It was a name given to her, not by her parents at birth, but by those who had befriended her from the beginning of her exodus from the past, by those who had effectively given birth to a new person, one already grown, yet still new to the world – at least, to the reality of it rather than the ignorant façade of it as seen through the eyes of an innocent child. In that, she at least felt absolved of some of the guilt of the falsehood of her name, because Imrhien was who she had become, rather like growing entirely new skin instead of just donning the kenning like a piece of clothing. She was no longer that girl on Persephone, because she had grown, matured, and transformed into the adult version of herself, obliterating entirely everything about who she once was simply by opening herself to a new perception of the universe. Some qualities of the child remained throughout the transformation, but they were those quiet beliefs, morals, and abilities which made up part of her core – her faith in God, her belief in free will, her ability to recognize and experience profound beauty, her desire to love with her entire being. The rest of her, though, consisted of new qualities and faults, new beliefs, morals, and abilities, most having developed on their own rather than having been given to her, as her name had been.

She still clung to the archaic edifice of Catholicism, which her kindhearted mother had bestowed upon the entire household, with varying results. Religion had been important to the child who would become Imrhien in her early years, the ancient traditions at its foundation allowing her a vestigial connection to Earth That Was, the archaic rituals of prayer, sacrament, and sacrifice giving her a soothing method of meditation and introspection. Her pious nature was one that she concealed from the world at large, praying the Rosary in solitude, venturing to the sanctuary of the Catholic Church for the sacraments of reconciliation and the Eucharist only when it was not obvious to those she was close to. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of it – it was more that she regarded religion as something very private, cherishing it because it was the only part of her family, or rather, of her mother, that she was able to bring with her when she left her home.

As for the idea of love in its passionate, starry-eyed form, she almost entirely dismissed it from her abridged list of aspirations. She had been shown at eighteen, tragically early in her life, that to love another in that way was intolerably painful, and she harbored no intentions of seeking that which would ultimately, in her mind, bring about such a powerful sense of vicious grief and agonizing despair. The fanciful, naïve girl who had been so ecstatically in love with the man she was to marry was gone, metamorphosized into a jaded spinster; she was not so much bitter as she was disillusioned and doubtful of romance. The moment she had discovered the betrayal of her beloved betrothed, inadvertently catching him in the arms of another woman, her heart had hardened even as it howled in anguish. To her, love was permanent, indestructible, sacrificial, and always faithful, not this inconsistent, insubstantial, selfish and adulterous behavior that stood bared in its contemptible glory before her. Yet, while she had vowed to safeguard her heart against all pretenses of romance, she still allowed herself to love. She had readily embraced those deserving individual people in her life with the same ardor that she would have expended on a lover or spouse. She cherished her friendships, not out of the absence of romance, but because that was the only way she knew how to love.

Ironically, the discovery of her fiancé’s infidelity was where the trouble in her life began. Her father, a poor farmer and unsuccessful businessman, had treated her hand in marriage as an object to be sold to help support the family rather than as holy sacrament. Therefore, when the arrangement with her fiancé came to an abrupt and very public end, he faced a crisis, as the money he had been depending on to bail his family out of financial trouble was suddenly vanished, as was the virtue of his merchandise. The girl had, of course, given herself to her betrothed, and even if she hadn’t, her chastity would still be suspect – the girl was damaged goods that could not be salvaged for the sake of marrying her off. So, her father, who had not taken so easily to his wife’s religion as his offspring had, began making arrangements to sell his oldest child into slavery. As soon as his intent became apparent to his wife, she sent the girl away with some supplies and enough money to barter passage off of Persephone to avoid being apprehended and forced into a grueling existence in servitude and abuse.

As is usually the case in life-altering catastrophes, coincidence, resonating to some universal imperative for complication, reared its ugly head and convoluted matters further for her. Upon reaching the Eavesdown Docks, the closest spaceport, hub of most regional businesses and the local government, news of the attempted murder of her estranged fiancé found its way to her ears, fortunately before the news of her arrival in the city reached the ears of the Alliance. The perpetrator had managed to remain anonymous, even to him who had been shot in the back, and so the investigating officers quickly surmised, based solely on assumption, since his ex-fiancé not only had the motive to seek revenge, but whom had also disappeared from her home in the dead of night, that she had obviously been the culprit. The bulletins seemed to line her path through the city, but no one seemed to notice the waifish urchin wending her way around the docking area, seeking the least conspicuous ship to throw her lot in with.

She chose a firefly class freighter named The Lone Reverie. Whether it was keen perception on her part or plain luck, she chose well for herself. The Reverie’s crew were a ragtag bunch of marauding thieves and scoundrels, working their way from one end of the ‘verse to the other, taking on whatever jobs they could acquire, legal or not. Just reputable enough to still be flying, yet low enough in the pecking order to flow below the Alliance radar, The Lone Reverie was the perfect escape, save that her captain didn’t stay in business by being easily bamboozled. Shortly after departure from Persephone, Domonic Card cornered the skittish stray, demanding the truth from the girl, and then advising that her cover story was so weak a gentle wind could wreck it. He took pity on her, though, having known hardship, and because of his acidic abhorrence for the Alliance and their skewed view of law. He offered her the opportunity to prove herself a competent hand on the boat with the promise of allowing her to stay on with the crew if she could shoulder some of the labor.

Much as he surmised, the girl wasn’t a shirker – she toiled as hard as the rest of his crew, making up for her lack of strength with her ability to learn quickly and her willingness to try her hand at anything. The Reverie and her den of thieves warmed to her almost immediately, taking turns tutoring her in a large array of subjects, anywhere from winning at Cripple Mister Onion to the proper care of firearms to basic mechanics. Most importantly, each took part in breaking her of a lifetime of debutante habits. She learned to cuss and spit, to slouch, to talk tough, and to shoot. As the weeks turned to months, she was no longer recognizable as the girl from Persephone. Between her own body filling itself out into the shape of a woman and hard labor toning and building her muscles, she didn’t look a thing like the waif who had slipped on board with a fistful of money and even less nerve.

As the transformation took place, the captain began calling her “little butterfly,” and the name stuck. The Reverie’s mechanic, Bran MacAbier, who had been raised in a richly Scottish society, dredged up the Gaelic word for butterfly, and the girl became “Imrhien” to the crew and everyone else she met. Some months later, she was treated to her first tattoo – the captain had sketched a tribal butterfly, and the crew demanded it go on her back, not only as protection against stealthy attacks, but as a reminder of them. The boat’s doctor, with his steady hand and talent for drawing, painstakingly inked her namesake into her flesh.

Imrhien was at peace on The Lone Reverie. She felt camaraderie with the crew, she felt safe in their midst, even in the middle of gunfights. She picked up various uncouth habits from each of them out of admiration for their tough spirit. Everything she had learned, everything they had given her, she embraced like a lover. Not only did she adopt their habits, however, but their attitudes. Between the abundant gunfights she eagerly engaged in and the tense situations her captain seemed to drag them all into, where simply appearing dangerous could do the trick, she developed a take-no-shit-or-prisoners posture that ended up being applied to her entire personality, the result of which made her seem rather rough and rude. Having seen, firsthand, more worlds than she could remember, she also espoused the crew’s harsh hatred of the Alliance, because she now understood precisely what the scheming regime was doing to humanity.

Years went by, somewhere in the neighborhood of four and change, and the time came for Imrhien to part ways with The Lone Reverie. A few too many run-ins with the Alliance made up her mind to move on, both for her own safety, and to protect those she cared about. It would have been a dreadful show of gratitude to have her friends incarcerated for harboring her, a known fugitive. So she left, bitter over the parting, but determined to throw the Alliance hounds off of her scent, and began crisscrossing the ‘verse on various transports, sometimes able to work for her fare, sometimes able to barter for it, and sometimes forced to sell her own body for passage. It was a few years and millions of miles of wandering the various corners of space before her trail ran entirely cold.

When it did, she decided to search out a place to settle down for a while. The loneliness of space travel, never with a crew long enough to develop friendships, never on one planet long enough to get to know people, had plunged her into a cavernous melancholy, and she had a profound pining for human interaction on a level much more meaningful than the ephemeral exchanges that had defined her life for far too long. It didn’t take her much time to happen upon her haven of humanity. She landed on Blackburne, a small moon on the rim, hoping to pick up a transport elsewhere, but quite inadvertently discovered that the jade-tinged town of Blackburne Downport was exactly what she was searching for, in all its radioactive, perilous glory. It was her avowed hope that some day, she would able to share who she truly was with the people she had come to care so deeply for, because there was so very much to tell, and the lie of omission would never cease gnawing at her until she exposed herself.

On The Lam...Again.

I always knew my temper'd land me in a big enough stewpot to feed Persephone for a month. Well, here's my stewpot, boilin' happily away, just waitin' for me to dive right on in. I'm such a gorram idiot.

So, there I was, sittin' back at a bar on Boros, relaxin', mindin' to my own affairs, when some walkin' rectum with a purple belly started layin' lines on me like I was some poor little backplanet gal that ain't laid eyes on a man she wasn't related to and'd never been hit on before. That alone wasn't much more'n I handle regularly, so it was more of a minor annoyance. Not so used to 'lliance boys takin' an interest, but hey, there's a first time for everything, right? Then, he started gettin' gropey. Now, there's times when touchy-feely's appropriate - namely, when I'm okay with it. Not so much when I'm not. I told him to cut it out. Maybe not as politely as some woulda, but I'm not some refined lady like Shay is, and besides, he was outta line.

He didn't quit pawin' me. So, I told him to cut it out or I'd shove his nuts up his nose. He got all offended and said I must be a browncoat whore, cuz no whore with a brain in her head would turn him down. So, I punched him. Can you blame me?

Apparently, he didn't get the message too clear, cuz he grabbed a handful of my hair, yanked me outside, threw me down on the ground and started fiddlin' with his pants. Guess on the core planets, punchin's part of foreplay, cuz I reckon he meant to have his way with me. Well, I wasn't havin' any of that, so I shot him. And we all know me, it wasn't one of those girly-knee shots. If there's one factor that's important in opening a restaurant, real estate, and bullet placement, it's location, location, location. I got a heart shot, and that idiot fell down dead.

Now, I've killed plenty. I'll kill when it's in my best interest and not feel remorseful, cuz let's face it, it's a kill or be killed 'verse, and if you don't show people you mean business, you're pretty much dead, it's just a matter of time as to when. That asshole had it comin', so I don't feel one shred of bad. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I can live with bein' a bad person so long as my sense of right and wrong's in balance.

The problem with killin' this particular jackass was, not only was he 'lliance, but he was a 'lliance officer. Some leiutenant or somethin'. And how'm I s'posed to explain that to his commander? Oh, sorry, he was gonna rape me, so I killed him 'fore he could get his pants down. They'd have my ass on a firin' line 'fore I could say 'uncle.' So, I ran. Just like I always do when it comes to 'lliance trouble.

SO now, not only am I on the run from the 'lliance for shootin' somebody i didn't even shoot under a diff'rent name, but I'm also on the run for killin' a man to protect myself. Needless to say, I need to keep as far from Blackburne and Hale's Moon as possible for a bit to throw off the trail. I don't wanna cause anybody there undue stress for harborin' a fugitive, cuz I'd just hate to have to kill anybody else over this little incident.

Guess I need to write home and explain things so nobody gets nervous when I don't turn up for a bit.

((OOC Note: My internet is seriously FUBAR at the moment, with no schedule for getting not-FUBAR, so... I'll be around when I'm around. I can log in sometimes, but I can't do much when I can get on. I'll try to be faithful about posting interesting blogs so nobody forgets poor Immy.))

One Of Them?

Maybe it seems petty to other folk, but for me, bein' accepted into the fold is a really heartenin' experience, especially in the midst of Blackburne Downport. I haven't been accepted much; usually I'm dismissed 'long with the rest of the space trash meanderin' our way across the 'verse, ignored or scorned by our social betters. But here, I've not felt that vicious prejudice from anyone from the moment of my arrival. And though I was accepted and befriended by the many citizens of this small but great moon, I was recently embraced more tightly, folded into the mix more thoroughly, woven into the fabric that binds these wonderful folks together, by two.

When Amyla asked me to be her person-of-honor in her wedding, I cried for the joy of it. She an' Cholgosh, in particular, have allowed me into their inner circle, and it feels unimaginably good to be cared about by people I cherish with so much of my heart. Amy is truly turnin' into somethin' more than a sister to me, fillin' a void I didn't even know was there. They're both kindred spirits to me, feelin' things as intensely as I do, and I can only hope and pray that I can somehow reciprocate the wonder of this friendship.

The three of us can be found slummin' 'round Firefly's or The Cup, as seen here. I dunno that I could ever convey how loved I feel by these two, but it's a mighty heady feelin'. I reckon it was meant to be - I mean, all three of us love writin' and raisin' hell. All three of us are outcasts in our own right, but none ofus have let that go interferin' with who we really are, and I adore that 'bout 'em, along with the rest of the folk of Blackburne Downport. I guess I truly have found my home after roamin' for so long. It's a good feelin'.

Excerpt From the Journal of Imrhien Fargis

Monday, March 10, 2008

Temper, Temper

One of these days, my temper is really gonna get me into fierce
trouble. Sure, I don't lose it often, but when I do, it ain't pretty in any way.
See, what happened was, I walked into Firefly's last night and who should be
sittin' there at the bar but some gorram purplebelly officer from the IAV
Asimov, name of Faulkes, and what should he be doin' but insultin' and
criticisin' all the good folks of Blackburne Downport. 'Course it riled me up
somethin' fierce, so I started in grumblin' and makin' nasty comments. It was
stupid of me, cuz for all I know, that purplebelly went back to his big ship and
looked up all the troublemakers' files, and if he made the connection with me...
I reckon he'd have to be amazin'ly bright to work out who I am, and then it'd
only be a matter of time 'fore they drag me off in chains for some fancy trial
on Persephone to prove me guilty of some crime I never did do. I reckon, though,
they won't take me alive, cuz it'll be a cold day in hell 'fore I become some
legal scapegoat so the 'lliance can be lazy and not figure out who really shot
Chris. Ain't like he didn't deserve it, anyway, and I wish I'd been the one to
do it, cuz I wouldn'ta missed his cold, black heart, but I had my own problems,
and gettin' revenge on that cheatin' scum didn't even have time to occur to me
as I was tryin' to get off Persephone.

But really, the 'lliance has got some nerve, 'llowin' a man like that to
strut into Firefly's like that and start talkin' about how the 'lliance could
raise the social an' cultural standards of our moon, to civilize us. I reckon
the folk out on the rim ain't the ones that need civilizin', it's every gorram
one of those prejudiced, hateful, purplebellied scum. Purplebelly - the 'lliance
uniform should be yella. It was his kind that came here an' nuked this planet
into a radioactive wasteland, it was his kind that advanced evolution of the
folk 'round here. 'Sright, I said ADVANCED THE EVOLUTION of the folk 'round
here. They aren't some different species that needs to cringe and shirk away
from civilization - the people of this town are the most civilized folks I ever
did meet, and I been back an' forth cross this big 'verse an' seen more'n any
person ever should, so I ain't exactly uneducated when it comes to civilization.
'lliance needs to nuke themselves into a radioactive stone age - then they can
preach to everyone else 'bout it not bein' civilized for "a certain 'mount of
mixin'" to occur in our little town.

All I know is, if the 'lliance decides to make a fuss on Blackburne, I'll
be one of them who stands up to blast them nazi purplebellies back to their
little central planets. They hurt any of my friends an' I'll be a force to
reckoned with. Maybe that officer's smarter than I give him credit for, an'
maybe he won't come back to Firefly's after the tepid greetin' he received. We
can only hope, an' in the meantime, I'll be prayin' that no trouble comes o'
this.
Posted by Imrhien Fargis at 8:50 AM