Let's Have No Undue Fussin'

OOC ~ Painting

2009-08-08T14:15:00.003-04:00

Posting this to show work in progress painting of post post apoc Blackburne. I just started painting it, it's nowhere near done.

In Memoriam

2009-05-17T03:56:00.009-04:00

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam, Canto 27

A Collection of Nostalgic Photos In Memory Of Blackburne Downport

Imrhien Fargis on her first day in Blackburne Downport, taken by Nack Barnes

Mod Yokosuka accidentally sets Blackburne aflame!

The Blackburne Militia takes guard duty VERY seriously!

Lorie Lilliehook and Imrhien Fargis supervise Nack Barnes and
Lauralai Toland building Blackburne's new landing pad.

Tdstraitjacket Manamiko, Belize Carver, and Imrhien Fargis on
The Truck in Firefly's Bar in Blackburne Downport

((to be continued...))

Then echo-like our voices rang;
We sung, tho' every eye was dim,
A merry song we sang with him
Last year: impetuously we sang:

We ceased: a gentler feeling crept
Upon us: surely rest is meet:
"They rest," we said, "their sleep is sweet,"
And silence follow'd, and we wept.

Our voices took a higher range;
Once more we sang: "They do not die
Nor lose their mortal sympathy,
Nor change to us, although they change;

"Rapt from the fickle and the frail
With gather'd power, yet the same,
Pierces the keen seraphic flame
From orb to orb, from veil to veil."
-Alfred, Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam, Canto 30

They Say You Can Never Truly Go Home... (Rest In Peace Blackburne Downport)

2009-05-14T17:28:00.003-04:00

Well, considerin' I came upon my true home for the first time when I was 28 years old, that statement was sorta flawed. Yeah, once I'd left my childhood home, I couldn't go back there, not just 'cuz I'd changed or cuz my family'd changed, but 'cuz the situation'd changed, and it wasn't somewhere I could go back to. And since movin' my family off Persephone to keep my Ma and sister Petra outta the Alliance's paws, I sure as hell couldn't go back to the farm I'd grown up on ever again. But with Blackburne? I reckoned I'd always be able to go back there, no matter how long I'd been gone, no matter what happened in my life...

I was at drill with the 12th when the wave came through. We'd heard rumors 'bout there bein' a force of reavers massin' and makin' their way through the Murphy system. I'd made plans to run the drill with my unit, then take off for Blackburne just in case those smelly bastards decided to make a pit stop. Too late, though, as everything came to a crunchin' halt and the 'nnouncement was made that my home was under heavy attack and that the citizens there were abandonin' the Downport and evacuatin' with everyone and anything they could get in Osprey II and any other available transport ship.

I've made my fair share of stands with the Blackburne Militia 'gainst Reavers, Raiders, Feral Mutants, Bots, and any other scum that came lurkin' into town with a mind to harm folk. I never for a second doubted that the Militia could hold off a pack of Reavers without me. Livin' in Blackburne, you sorta had to develop razor sharp survival instincts and fightin' skills to keep from endin' up just another unmarked grave in a sea of unmarked graves out in the Wastes. So to hear't they were retreatin' and evacuatin' shook me to the core. In all my time there, in all the horrible battles we'd struggled to win, even when the prospect of survivin' seemed bleak, we'd never once given thought to fleein'.

The order went out to launch a counter attack 'gainst the Reavers, maybe to hold 'em off and save the Downport, or to cover the civilians as they evacuated, and everybody scrambled into a ready state, all of us shellshocked. We'd all been waitin' to hear 'bout the 'lliance Loyalists launchin' an attack and havin' to meet 'em in battle on the ground or in the sky, we'd all been so focused on that particular threat that we hadn't been expectin' anything like this.

In the cockpit of my stryker, I waited, weapons strapped to me from head to toe in case I had t'opportunity to land and fight on foot. It was the waiting, the not knowing, the wondering if my friends were safe, if the people I loved had survived. I was plagued by ghastly images the whole trip... I'd seen what Reavers did to folk, the horrors that made suicide and an eternity in hell for it seem downright pleasant in comparison, and I kept seein' the faces of Blackburne citizens on the bodies of Reaver victims. It was like to drive me insane.

And then, we were there. And it was all smoke risin' from the town, obscurin' everything. Osprey II had made her escape with many of the Downport's citizens, and Seana'd shown up with Wave Equation, got thirty-one more. That was all I heard on my comm. That and a lotta curses. I don't reckon I made a sound as I flew in formation over the little town, now burnin', soon to be ash and rubble, cuz I was hit by memories, all so real I felt as though I could reach my hand out and feel everything there.

My first time in the Downport. I'd come in a transport ship I'd been barterin' work for passage on for a little over a month, thinkin' it'd be another quick stop in a long line of quick stops. Just another quiet little town alone in the night, strugglin' to get by, just like all the other hundreds of settlements on the rim. And I ran into Nack, who was warm and welcomin', tellin' me 'bout the moon's history and invitin' me to their shindig that night. I was standin' there, and he pulled out a camera and took a picture of me, just cuz he said it was gonna make a good picture. And it did. I still got the picture, too. Just me in front of a tree with a bird mindin' its own business off in the background.

That particular memory stuck in my mind, cuz it was then't I'd realized there was somethin' different 'bout this little town in the middle of God's nowhere. For some reason, I felt... well, I dunno, safe there. Accepted. Liked. It was a haven for folk like me, who were runnin' away from their pasts. Nobody asked too many questions, everybody helped out, and despite the hardships, it was all smiles and laughter, seemed like. So I'd decided to stay on there for a bit. Years in space tend to leave you hungry for land, for open spaces, for fresh air. Maybe Blackburne didn't have the freshest air, bein' green-tinged and radioactive and all, but it certainly qualified as land and had plenty of open space.

Mod settin' half the town on fire one night after the bar'd closed. Him and me were testin' out weapons, and he had this one that sent out... I dunno what it was, a fireball or somethin'... But half the gorram town was lit up with flames, and he was hollerin' 'bout how Nack was gonna kill him and kick him outta town as we spent the next hour runnin' 'round to put out all the gorram fires.

The bank stakeout with the Militia. We were bein' plagued by the gorram Wasteland Raiders, and recently, they'd scouted our bank. Ain't rightly sure what for, but after the theft of all our produce, includin' our turnips, we weren't 'bout to get caught with our pants down again. It started out with me and Amyla in bikinis, sunglasses and guns sittin' in lawn chairs in front of the bank to make damned sure no Raider'd get the drop on us. And it turned into a full blown party, with many townsfolk comin' out to join us. Someone even brought a grill and a bug zapper, which Archer managed to electrocute himself with more'n several times, much to our general amusement. Raiders never did show up for the party, but it was a good gorram day, full of laughter and friendship and love.

The buildin' of the new landin' pad. I remembered sittin' in lawn chairs with Lorie, "supervisin'" Nack and Lauralai as they worked on the new, bigger landin' pad, and watchin' as Nack landed his firefly on it for the first time. The look of pride on his face as he stood back and admired the way it all looked was priceless. Him and Laur'd worked tirelessly to make sure Blackburne was nothin' short of amazin' for so many years.

The many, many uncountable hours sittin' back on the porch of the bar, relaxin', socializin', gettin' to know folk, welcomin' newcomers, keepin' watch for trouble...

All the laughter in the bar...

Just a billion, billion memories of one place... And now, that place was gone.

Tears were streamin' down my face and I didn't even know it. The sense of loss was so profound, so palpable, that I felt it suffocatin' me. And my rage was intense. I wanted to fly down there and kill every last one of those bastards. But I knew I couldn't. Wouldn't be no point. And I'd be endangerin' the lives of my squad if I went on a rogue Reaver killin' spree. So I looked out the window of my cockpit and I silently said farewell to my home, now in flames, and I retreated back to base, feelin' useless and helpless and empty. It was as though I'd lost one of my best friends, and grieving' would be long-lived and hard.

But Blackburne Downport is worth all the anguish and the grief I'm feelin', that I know many, many countless others're feelin'. She was home to so many of us for so long, and she was a good home. And she'll always live on in our hearts and our memories.

Can Curses Be Broken?

2009-05-10T14:29:00.001-04:00

Guess you could call me superstitious. Cuz, well, I am. Broken mirrors are seven years bad luck. Walkin' under ladders? Not a good idea. Black cats I could handle. But drinkin' Blackburne's green water was outta the question. I wouldn't even touch it, let alone drink the stuff. And marriage? Considerin' I'd lost Chris Barnett, Aeon Voom and Tdstraitjacket Manamiko to engagement or marriage, I'd come to the conclusion I was cursed. Newest superstitions? Touchin' the plaque on the wall in the briefin' room of the Elindor and wearin' my lucky drawers and the bracelet Duncan'd given me the night of the Ants in the 'Verse ball whenever I got in the cockpit of my stryker to fly her. Call me silly for all of it, but it's how I am.

So, poor Duncan's gotta deal with all my crazy superstitious crap, and I gotta say, he's been a champ 'bout it. I don't even reckon he snickers when I change my stride to miss cracks in the floorin'. But he's made it more'n clear to me that he'd like to marry me, despite my track record and fervent belief't gettin' engaged's the quickest way to end a relationship with me. Don't get me wrong, he said he's perfectly content just havin' me in his life, and I'm inclined to believe him. Neither one of us expected to end up together, and it was sorta miraculous that we did, given everything that'd been goin' on at the time, and given the situations both of us'd been in.

Call me crazy, but've you ever just known when somethin' was right? I mean real right? Like, so right that the entire 'verse seems to've gone way outta its way to line up so somethin' could happen? It's how I feel with Duncan. I ain't got a doubt in my mind 'bout him, and honestly, it's been that way from the beginnin'. I almost feel like my curse, the one where every time I got engaged or married, it'd fall apart and I'd end up losin' the person, was sorta God's or destiny's way of intervenin' on my behalf so't when Duncan and I crossed paths, we'd both be in positions to be together.

And now, I keep thinkin' 'bout what's fair and right. Ain't fair for him to not get to marry the woman he loves just cuz she's superstitious as all hell. I feel like I'd be deprivin' him of somethin' hugely important, and also myself, by denyin' him my hand in marriage. Maybe the curse still scares the hell outta me, but it's cuz I can't imagine a world without him in it anymore, and I couldn't bear the thought of losin' him... but somethin' tells me this time'll be different, cuz this time it's right.

And then there's this war. One of us may die tomorrow, or both of us. And I can't let that happen, 'least not without givin' him my eternal commitment. Maybe I'm wrong, or maybe I'm bein' silly. But it's what I believe.

So, given all that, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided one night that I was gonna propose to him. We were out on this little island in the middle of God's nowhere, deserted but for a couple little beach houses and docks and a millionbillion birds, standin' on a rise above the harbor entrance watchin' the sun go down. I got down on one knee, takin' his hands in mine, and I asked him if he'd do me the real great honor of marryin' me. Funnily enough, or maybe not, given that it happens to us all the time, he'd had the same notion in his head at 'zactly the same moment I did, and his response was to propose right back to me. 'Course I said yes.

We've kept it on the downlow since it happened, mainly outta respect for certain other peoples' feelin's, but there comes a time when you either make it public or walk away from it entirely. Me, I've wanted to shout it from the mountaintops since the second it happened. I'm done feelin' ashamed for feelin' the way I do 'bout him cuz it didn't suit someone else's feelings, and I'm ready to lift my head with pride knowin' that I'm with the most wonderful, most amazin' man I ever have met, that I love him entirely, and that I'm blessed to have him love me entirely back.

And I believe my curse's been broken. And one day soon, once we figure out how we're gonna do things, I'll have the honor of marrying the man who's become so close to me that I ain't rightly sure where I end and he begins, who's become my best friend, my confidante, my lover, my ally, my comrade in arms, my voice of reason, my rock of stability, my better half. He'll be my husband.

Now, the only question is whether or not we'll have kids.
Just kiddin'.
Sorta.

And just for the record... I AIN'T PREGNANT!

Wild Hairs, Whiskey, and Wings

2009-05-04T19:59:00.005-04:00

We all know I'm impatient as hell. And we all know I'm sorta prone to doin' my own thing, despite... advice, rules, or orders to the contrary. Really, I ain't so opposed to rules as a whole, so long as they ain't stupid and the situation don't call for 'em to be broke.

Duncan discussed it with me, whether I really wanted to enlist in the military, I sorta didn't get his trepidation when he asked me, then explained, given how I am, that I could well spend a goodly 'mounta' time in the brig. My reply? "You've seen me fly Merkabah. They'll pull me outta there when there's action. And as long's I'm allowed conjugal visits, no problem." Yeah.

I sorta see his point now. But on the other hand, I was right, too.

See, after enlistment, us nuggets were taken 'round and shown the ropes, then went in to qualify on flight and marksmanship. But 'fore any flyin' and shootin' actually took place, the flight instructor took us all out on the flight deck to go over the Stryker specs with us so we weren't totally blindsided our first time in the cockpits of 'em.

Well... I'm a sorta hands-on kinda gal. I learn best by doin'. "Kinetic learner" is what they call it. Some stuffy flight instructor dronin' on at me 'bout specs just don't do it for me so much. So, as he was leadin' us 'round the flight deck, I was bored to near tears, and got a wild hair up my ass. I climbed into one of the strykers to check out the controls and figure things out for myself. Nobody even noticed I was gone.

The class wandered away, and I thought there'd be no harm in seein' what she could do. The strykers're sleek, elegant little planes, sexy and menacin' all in the same breath, and ever since I laid eyes on 'em, I been itchin' to get in the cockpit and try 'em on for size. So, I started her up and took off. Sorta discombobulatin' at first, there was a good three minutes after I cleared the Elindor's hangar of panic on my part, tryin' to figure out what did what. Good deal of spinnin' in twenty-seven directions at once, but given the way Merkabah handles, that part didn't get me. All hell'd broken loose on the flight deck and in CIC, though. I had forty different folks screamin' at me over my comm.

I got it though, control, figured out where everything was and went on a short trip loopin' the Elindor 'fore I headed back in to be clapped in irons and possibly shot multiple times. It was exhilaratin'... the speed, the maneuverability, the sheer strength it took to control her. I was in love with this plane. And I got the feelin' she was likin' me, too, cuz she handled like a dream as I tried to put the old girl through a few paces.

My trip back in the ship was what ya might call excitin'. I was used to just landin', none of this catchin' a trap business. But the principle wasn't rocket science, so I managed to catch it and land her without killin' myself. Mighta been a few seconds in that cockpit where I was nervous, even. But I'll never admit it to to anyone.

The flight instructor was heated. I mean, yeah, I can sorta see why. If I'd gotten myself killed, it woulda been his ass. Prol'ly'd still be his ass that he wasn't payin' attention and let one of his nuggets pull a stunt like that. Ooh, he yelled, started yellin' the second the cockpit opened up and didn't stop for a full forty minutes. While he was yellin', I happened to glance up and noticed Admiral Leitner standin' there watchin'. I wonder how long he was watchin'. I wonder how much of my stunt he saw. It was weird, wasn't til I saw him that I started regrettin' what I'd done. For some reason, the idea of disappointin' him was more dauntin' to me than the threat of bein' tossed in the brig for a month.

And I did get tossed in the brig. When the flight instructor lost his wind, he had me report to the brig for insubordination and reckless endangerment. So I got to sit my happy little ass on a slab in a cell and cool my heels. While I was in there, all I could think 'bout was how sweet it was to fly that stryker. Also wondered how mad Duncan was gonna be that I got my ass tossed in the clink my first day in the service. Prol'ly more amused than mad. Man knew me too well to be surprised at all, really. I just hoped I got to see the look on his face when he found out what I did.

About three hours after I made home in my cell, I was told the Admiral wished to speak with me, and I'd be escorted to his quarters. Now, I don't wanna say I was terrified, cuz it wasn't like he was gonna shoot me or torture me, but I won't deny there wasn't some anxiety as I made my way down the ship's corridor, flanked on either side by an armed guard. My heart was poundin' so hard I was scared I might drop dead from a heart attack 'fore the admiral had a chance to chew me a new asshole.

He didn't look at me when we got there, just told the guards to remove my cuffs and leave us. Then he turned his back and walked behind his desk and told me to have a seat. I didn't say a word, just did as asked and stared at a point on the wooden surface of his desk, suddenly feelin' wooden myself. There was just somethin' bout this man that commanded respect. And hearin' a lecture from him, hell, gettin' the boot from the service by him was prol'ly the worst punishment they coulda given me.

"Major Cooperstone warned me that you were a pistol, Ms. Fargis. Not that he needed to. I saw that the first time I laid eyes on you." He still wasn't lookin' at me. He was shufflin' through some papers, like he either had more important matters to attend to or like he didn't want to look at me. But he kept talkin'. "I knew you'd be a troublemaker when I brought you on my ship. I figured you would have at least waited a few days before you started raising hell, but I've been wrong before."

My mouth started talkin' 'fore my brain could catch up. "Well sir, I ain't one to waste time."

'Round here they call him 'the Old Man' with a sorta mix of pride, affection and reverence. Reckon right 'bout then I knew why as his brown eyes found me over the steel rims of the glasses he wore. "There's a reason why we follow routine, procedure, orders," he began as he leaned back in his chair. "We're at war. For many on this ship, this war has been going on many years, and others have joined us more recently. To serve isn't the same thing as fighting. Those who serve put their lives in the hands of each other because we believe we're part of something greater than just the individual. That's where the routine, the discipline becomes important... When the battle rages, we have to commit entirely to a single moment that defines each and all of us." Without waiting for me to respond he drew a dark velvet box from a desk drawer and took out whatever was inside.

I knew what he was sayin'. There was a good damned reason I shouldn'ta gone off on my own half cocked just for shits and grins to prove I could fly a stryker, if even only to myself. If there'd be an actual good reason to do it, like protectin' someone or somethin', it woulda been justified, but what I did wasn't, and I was gonna have to learn to be a bit less impulsive so't my fellows in arms could trust me when the time came to get into the shit.

But insteada' continuin' to lecture me, he chuckled. What I saw etched into the lines of his aged face and in his eyes shocked me. Amusement and pride. What the hell? The old man wasn't even a little mad. He was impressed.

"Miss Fargis, in my experience, there are three types of soldier. Leaders, followers, and hard chargers. From what I've been able to dig up about you, I already know which one you are. You've scorned the opportunity to become a leader at every turn, even though there are plenty who would gladly follow you. And God knows you aren't a follower. What you are is a hard charger - a soldier who knows that sometimes it's better to throw the rulebook out the window and do what needs to be done, who follows their own orders and answers to no one."

I didn't say a word, cuz honestly, I didn't know what there was to say. Sounded like he was payin' me a hell of a compliment. And he wasn't finished. "The thing is, I know I can't control you. Trying to control hard chargers is about as effective as trying to herd cats. But I can find a way to use you. And that's what I'm going to do."

At that point, he pulled out two glasses and poured a healthy shot of whiskey into each one before picking them both up and continuing. "To be a stryker pilot, you have to have deadly sharp instincts and brass balls. Those ships aren't easy to pilot, and going into combat in one takes a very specific type of soldier. In all of my years in the military, I've never seen anything like the stunt you pulled today. And that tells me that you've got the skills, the instincts, and the balls to be a stryker pilot." He held one of the glasses out to me, and I accepted it with a quiet "Thank you, sir." I looked down at it, not sure what to say beyond that. And when I did, I saw the wings at the bottom of the glass.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant. And welcome to the 12th." The old man smiled. Somethin'd told me he had a soft spot for hell raisers, and I'd been right. By all rights, I shoulda been tossed overboard after rottin' in a cell for a year. But he promoted me to an officer and gave me wings 'cuz he recognized who I am and that if used right, my attitude could be advantageous. The old man knew how to lead, how to turn what most folk'd see as a problem to an asset. After that, I think I woulda followed him into battle armed with a spoon.

I followed suit as he raised his glass "The 12th Cavalry! First in the field and last to leave it." As the Old Man drained his glass, what I took for a look of pride and pain drifted across his wrinkled features. "And never truer words spoken," he gravelled quietly.

Duncan was gonna laugh like hell. Shit, he prol'ly planned the whole thing out with the Admiral. While the two showed no signs of recognition to anyone else, while it was all business 'tween 'em in public, I could sorta sense camaraderie 'tween 'em, like they were old friends behind closed doors.

Everyone else was either gonna stare at me in disbelief or hate me, thinkin' I got some kinda special treatment 'cuz my fiance's an officer. I sure as hell hope it wasn't special treatment. But no matter what, people were gonna sit up and notice the cocky nugget who stole a stryker without trainin' to fly it without killin' herself.

Boy, was the flight instructor gonna be pissed, though.

Freedom's Just Another Word For Nothin' Left To Lose (A Narrative)

2009-03-27T02:52:00.005-04:00

They say time is relative. "Put your hands on a hot stove and a second can seem like an hour. Put your hands on a hot woman, and an hour can seem like a second." For Imrhien, the day she went back to Hale's Moon after smuggling her family off of Persephone was an eternity.

Td was gone. He hadn't said where or why, but she had a fairly good notion about the why part. The loss left her gasping for air, scrambling for a foothold to keep her from plummeting into some unknown void. Td. He was her rock, he kept her grounded and real and solid. He was the Alpha male to her Alpha female. She had ached and agonized over him for so long, walked away from him as a lover to keep him as a friend, and somehow along the road, they had found eachother again, and suddenly, she had been allowed to love him. Now he was gone. Just gone.

So the curse existed. Oh, she knew it had. How could it not have? First losing her unfaithful fiance, then her distracted husband? She'd feared it with Td, a knot tightening in her chest as he'd dropped to one knee and asked for her hand in marriage. But she'd thrown caution to the wind and accepted despite that fear. And now, she'd lost him, too. Probably forever.

Then there was the wave from Belize with regard to Duncan. She'd fallen in love with him - not that it was hard to do - and they were seeing eachother. The news meant three things to Imrhien: Duncan had come back to Hale's Moon, she had truly lost him forever, as well, and Belize would finally be happy.

Standing in Fook's with some of the townsfolk, she was greeted by even worse news. Lily had died in childbirth. That loss hit her like a house dropping on her head. Lily. She remembered Lily when she first started venturing into Blackburne Downport, this skittish little hairless anthro mutant, and how slowly, she came to trust the people there. She started staying around, and oh, how she'd grown on all of them... Not just into a striped, gorgeous not-cat with a penchant for blundering familiar words like insemination (in salmon nation), anniversary (ants in the 'verse), and amniotic (annie optic), but in their hearts as an adored resident of the town. Imrhien had adopted Lily along with Td, Seana, and Sabrina, hoping to protect her and love her, since Lily was technically a child and unfit to make decisions in her own interest. It had gone very badly between Lily and Imrhien from almost the get-go, with Lily mimcking Imrhien, and Imrhien grasping the reins of motherhood with a bit too sharp of a yank. But in the end of the struggle, both knew they were loved by the other.

Poor Lily. She'd obsessed for months and months over babies - where they came from, what caused them, how they were born. First it was babies growing in pumpkins, then it was needing fish oil to make one in the salmon nation, then it was faeries bringing them in seashells. Now, she was a mother, but had died before she could experience the joy of it.

She was utterly numb. The loss of so much in so short a time was entirely devastating to Imrhien. She could barely wrap her mind around it all. So she stood there, a hair's breadth from going limp, and stared at a spot on the wall, her arms hanging heavily at her sides, utterly powerless. She didn't know how long she stood there, maybe it was a moment, maybe an hour, maybe a day, maybe a week. And she came to a conclusion.

Love was pain. Love was loss. And love was not for her, because it inevitably led to catastrophe. It was a conclusion she had come to long before, but had foolishly pushed aside in the hope that she was wrong about it. But now, it was back and it was real and it was profound, and the only thing keeping her from screaming until she was mute was that numbness that had washed over her and left her in a state of deathly calm.

Then, the Reavers came.

Screams of terror ripped through the town, echoing off buildings and getting lost somewhere out in the desert, followed by snarls and vicious howls. The town was under attack, townsfolk running around in terror to find a safe place to hide, or else with weapons to defend the defenseless.

Imrhien's body snapped into action almost without thought. She had been there and done that a hundred times before, so it was like second nature to her, running out into the fray, Fear and Pain brandished steady in position, ready for their first prey. No need to bring her tortured mind into it, it would only muck things up and get her killed.

Engaging one Reaver that was chasing after a screaming woman, she brought Pain slashing down in a blurred arc, catching the mutilated horror from behind in its shoulder and cutting a good way through its upper torso before running Fear through its mid-back, slicing her katana free through organs and bone. The Reaver dropped to the ground, its ruined body bleeding what was left of its life out, and she screamed.

It wasn't a scream of fear, but something primal, announcing first blood to the heavens, a challenge to her enemies. Reaching down, she let the fingers of both her hands sink into the Reaver's flesh, then drew them up to her face and dragging each digit simultaneously across her cheeks, leaving three bloody lines on each side. War paint. She had somehow managed to channel her deep, aching pain into rage, and was using it to fuel her will to fight.

On and on she fought, her blades blurring violently through the air as she battled to protect what she cared so deeply about. And then, she saw him. Outwardly, she gave no sign, but inwardly... Her blood pumped that much harder through her veins, and she fought on, for what seemed like an eternity.

One Reaver managed to get the drop on her, slashing her side open before she removed its head, and she was forced to retreat to the bar, where Belize was tending to the wounded, mainly so that something important, like her liver, didn't fall out, or so she didn't bleed to death before the town was safe. Belize was quick to patch her back up, but made her wait for the adhesive to dry before allowing her to rejoin the chaos.

And in the space of those few moments, the Reavers began scratching at the steel doors, their glutteral cries and growls seeping through the walls. And they who were in the bar knew they were trapped, their fates in the hands of the fighters outside.

It was what she had been waiting for. The chance to die with honor in battle. Imrhien gave instruction to Belize to take everyone in the bar down to the old shelter below the medpav. It was secure and stocked with food and supplies from the replicant revolt.

Before Belize could argue too much, Imrhien was slipping out the door, screaming bloody murder and running like hell was hot on her heels. It worked. The Reavers gave chase, as was their nature, abandoning their siege of the bar and allowing Belize and the others to sneak out to the medpav and assured safety.

Once on the run, Imrhien hadn't a clue what her next move was going to be. She dared not turn back to engage them, because they would have been on her before she'd gotten halfway around. She didn't know if anyone else was alive, she didn't know if he was still alive, but she kept on running. Some survival instinct had kicked into overdrive, willing her to live through this even though she'd known it was a suicidal plunge.

One of the Reavers grabbed her shoulder with a clawed hand, yanking her to the ground on her back, and they were on her like stink on shit, their teeth tearing at her flesh, and she knew it was over. She closed her eyes, not willing to scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing her terror... Shots rang out. Under attack, the Reavers abandoned their meal to seek out new prey.

Bleeding heavily from missing chunks of skin, Imrhien slowly looked around, realizing where she was. The courtyard. She didn't even remember running there. But more importantly, she was just ten meters from the medpav entrance. She begain to drag herself toward the entrance, woozy, her head spinning, and tumbled down the staircase, into the medical bay.

Strong arms lifted her up and carried her somewhere. She didn't know who, and she didn't particularly care at that moment. Her vision was blurry, her body weak and unresponsive, and she lay in the hospital bed, staring at what she hoped was the ceiling as Belize did her damnedest to sew her back up.

She didn't remember much else. She didn't remember trying to get back up as the snarls of the Reavers tore through the air in the medpav. She didn't remember Belize dosing her with another tranquilizer to keep her from getting herself killed. She didn't remember Duncan walking into he medpav searching for her, or that he found her and spoke softly to her. All she remembered was the pain. The physical pain wasn't so bad. but the emotional turmoil... Td. Duncan. Belize. Lily. Their faces revolved around her conscious mind, spinning ceaselessly, unrelenting.

Standing on that hill a few days later... Her hill, the hill where she'd fallen to her knees and prayed the day of Lily's trial, where she'd run to when faced with the decision between the two men she loved, where Duncan had followed her and said goodbye... She let her grief consume her, her hot tears crashing down into the sand at her feet. All was lost. She was alone. There was no hope. This was not home anymore.

And then she saw her. The Raivenn, gleaming in the early twilight. She was there where she'd always been before, where she belonged, warm and welcoming, a beacon of hope and friendship and loyalty... to her, a quiet conversation over tea, and a comfort in her heart. Her footfalls carried her across the cool sand without her even realizing she was moving, and soon, she stood before the magnificent firefly, her face lifted up to take her in as she'd never done before, tears still trailing down her cheeks, her hair tossed wildly around her by the desert winds.

She didn't expect him to be there. She didn't expect him to come down to greet her. But the ramp slowly lowered, the mechanical sound doing nothing to revive her from her reverie. And suddenly, he was there. Duncan. Standing in the mouth of his ship, wearing only a cotton shirt, trousers and boots, his eyes fixed on her, and without a word, she rushed at him like a moth to a flame, the world taking a moment to stand still until they collided, arms locked around eachother in a fierce embrace.

After a hour, or perhaps just a minute, Duncan lifted Imrhien in his arms and carried her on board, closing the ramp on his way inside to take her home.

Departures

2009-03-26T23:39:00.002-04:00

This time, I wasn't gonna get myself frakked. I showed up armed to the teeth, and I do believe my dear old Pa mighta shat hisself when he woke to find Fear and Pain 'cross his throat and his eldest child standing over him at the offended ends of 'em.

"Look," I said, and he just stared at me. Ma'd gotten up outta bed and was backed up, watchin'. Wonder if she knew I wasn't out for his blood. Didn't have time to go gallavantin' 'bout in her head to find out, though. "Given the last time we met up, it didn't end so well for me, I brought my katanas. Just know that I ain't got no intent to kill you, or even hurt you, but so help me God, if'n you so much as think 'bou tryin' to cause me trouble while I'm here, you will know Fear, and you will know Pain, and then, you will die. Just so we're perfectly clear."

I gave him a minute to process that 'fore goin' on. "Now, it occurred to me that the Feds might show up here with a sorta interest in Petra, maybe even Mama, cuz of me. And I'll be hanged 'fore I see either of 'em hurt when I can do somethin' to prevent it. So, I'm gettin' y'all outta here. It can either be all of you, or it can be just Mama and Petra, or it can be Jacob, Robert and Thomas, too, but it's happenin', so don't even bother arguin' with me."

And that was how my family ended up on a transport ship off of Persephone. I'd made a call 'fore shippin' out from Hale's, asked Cap'n Card to swing by and pick 'em up and take 'em somewhere safe. Didn't get into details with him. Reckoned he'd have a better notion of where was safe than me, cuz the only places I knew well enough to trust were Blackburne and Hale's Moon, and had it just been my Ma, my brothers and Petra, one or the other woulda suited. But my Pa was with 'em, and I couldn't trust him further'n I could throw a piano.

I advised 'em to change their names and lose their past. Start fresh. Reckon Pa had no misgivin's 'bout that. From what I could tell, he was in debt up to his eyeballs and sure'n there'd be more'n a few debtors out for his hide soon as they realized he'd jumped planet. Man actually thanked me for helpin' them as he stood on the ramp of Lone Reverie. Didn't apologize for shit, but I figure that I got a "thank you" outta him's 'bout as miraculous as ya get.

Mama had a message for me, though. Weren't so much a message as it was just... lettin' me know somethin't prol'ly wasn't ever intended for me to know. She told me 'bout the man who came 'round the day after I'd escaped Federal custody, and how he'd paid Pa off to stay the hell away from me. She described him. Tall. Muscular. Brown coat. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Moustache. Duncan. So he'd figured it out. How the devil he managed that one was beyond me, but I honestly wasn't too surprised. It gave me a pang. Hell, pang. More like a deep, profound sense of loss. No point in openin' that door again, though. He was gone, and that was it.

Petra just looked at me. Wasn't like how my brothers looked at me, with so much fear and awe in their eyes, starin' at a big sister who had enough weapons strappd to her to wage a small war. No, she looked at me, and she wanted me to take her with me. But I couldn't. So I told her, in her head, where she could find me when she was grown, or if she needed help.

And that was it. They were gone. I'd promised Card that we'd get together sometime to shoot the shit, and I'd told my Pa in no uncertain terms that if he did to Petra what he'd tried to do to me, he'd live to regret it. A lot. I reckon that man walked away with a whole new perspective on life. Or, maybe not. He wasn't famous for bein' wise. More for bein' a fool.

I wondered if I'd ever see any of 'em again. Hell, weren't like I even knew any of 'em. They weren't part of my life now. But there'd always be a part of me that'd wonder how they were gettin' on. And when I was done thinkin' my nostalgic thoughts, I went and got Merkabah so I could go home.

And when I got there, I found that everything had changed.

I Got By With A Little Help From My Friends

2009-03-26T08:06:00.003-04:00

Somethin' woke me up. Weren't like I was sleepin' sound anyway, every little noise jarrin' me back to consciousness as I laid there waitin' for the tromp of boots to lead me to my doom. But so far, it'd just been noises: The slam of a cell door, the occasional shout from another prisoner over on the next block echoin' through the complex, a set of footfalls, usually the guard doin' his checks. This time was different, though. Wasn't a sound, either, but a feelin'. Not an ominous one - Almost like the warm breeze comin' off the desert sand on Hale's coupled with the smell of coffee and incense, just brushin' my mind.

As I got more and more aware of my surroundin's, the sensations intensified. No, not intensified, just... there was more of 'em, one set after another. The smell of motor oil, the taste of pumpkin pie, and the feelin' of cold steel pressed up against my face. And then, a clean scent, antiseptic, and a hint of chocolate, along with the way it feels to slide between freshly washed silk sheets. The last was the taste of blood, the bite of a blade into flesh, and the howlin' of wolves. And I knew. They'd come for me. My friends. Seana. Sabrina. Belize. Td. Their minds sang to me in close proximity, and I wondered how the hell they planned to get in here, let alone how the hell they planned on gettin' me the devil back out.

I laid there silent and still as the guard passed me on his circuit so he wouldn't think somethin' was up. That'd be a great one to add to Perkins' dossier on me - She knew her friends were comin' for her without any outward indication of their presence. I pretended to sleep, lettin' my breathin' slow, partly to lend credence to the facade, but also, to calm down the thrummin' of my heart, which was threatenin' to jump outta my chest and fly away. I was scared. Not for my own self. I was already in the poo, and it wasn't likely gonna get much worse'n the prospect of what the gorram 'lliance was gonna do to me. No, I was scared for my friends, who were riskin' their own freedom to spring me. Please God, I prayed silently to myself, Please let all of 'em get outta here safe and unharmed and free.

The lights blacked. This was it. I waited for the sound of gunfire to start. And I kept waitin'. Didn't hear nothin' til the sound of the door lock bein' sliced into by a hot wire. I opened my eyes, lookin' up and barely saw her in the darkness, in this matte black getup. She was like a ghost, she blended so well. The little ninja, she'd called herself once. I'd known beneath the serene, businesslike exterior that she was a force to be reckoned with, but 'til that very moment, it was just sorta a bit of information to me. Now, her dangerous potential struck me in the most profound way. Here was a woman even I was scared to tangle with.

"Ain't you a little short to be a Browncoat?" I whispered, trying not to let my voice carry beyond a few feet.

"Shhhh. Follow," She hissed.

Just to be sure, I asked, "Sea?" I was sure, just didn't want her thinkin' I was sure. She whispered back, "Who else? We've got to move, though." The message was clear: Shut the frakk up and put your ass in gear, you can ask questions later. Well, fine. I hadn't planned on chattin' 'bout the fine weather we was experiencin' on Persephone here in my dank little cell anyway. I heard her speakin', presumably to whoever was playin' God for the op. "Archangel? I have the package. Heading to extraction." And then, we was up and movin', slow, careful. As she knew the layout better'n me, I automatically fell back to rear guard, coverin' our six. The woman was damn good, I gotta say. We didn't run into a soul, and slipped outta the God-foresaken place like it was a stroll in the park.

She'd brought street clothes for both of us, and we donned 'em, then headed out into the street 'fore the Feds even knew they'd been foiled. Well, no, the alarm was up, someone figured out I was missin', but whoever was playin' God out there'd done somethin' to scramble everything in the Fed station, so insteada runnin' out to fetch me, the place was in a state of total chaos.

Walkin' out in the crowded street, I was waitin' for somethin' to happen. Someone was bound to recognize me, a Fed squad was gonna come along and see me. Reckon, though, it was all 'bout flyin' casual. No, sir. No escaped federal prisoners here! Just us girls out on a jaunt 'round the town. Yeah. We made it all the way back to the outskirts of town where Seana'd parked Wave Equation without so much as a dirty look.

And then, I was surrounded by my friends. Seana, Sabrina, Belize... Td. Sabrina, who'd played God, or Archangel, watchin' from on high. Belize and Td, who'd gone out in the street to cause a diversion. They'd all risked their hides to save mine. I owed 'em all. Big.

Once we broke atmo, the questions started. They was simple at first. Was I okay? Did the Feds hurt me? They got progressively more difficult, though. Why the hell did I go back home and get myself caught? Yeah. How do you explain to your fiance you risked your life to get some silly trinket for another man, even if it was to tell that man goodbye? I reckon he didn't take that news so well. I could see it in his eyes. The others weren't entirely thrilled, either. A gorram locket, which I didn't even manage to keep a hold on - My dear old Pa'd rid me of it while he searched me for weapons and presumably anything of value.

What was the point, really? I ain't even sure. Maybe I needed a last yeehaw 'fore settlin' down. Maybe I needed closure with Duncan. Or maybe I was just plain crazy. I reckon, though, no matter what, there'd be consequences, even more'n gettin' caught by the Feds. Boy, was I right.

Thing was, soon as they'd busted me out, I knew I had to go back to Persephone. Had a couple real compellin' reasons for it. More'n that locket, too. One, my boat was still parked there. I sure as hell wasn't leavin' Merkabah on that gorram rock. And two, I had to get my family the hell outta there. It'd only be a matter of time 'fore that Perkins'd go nosin' 'round there, and there was a good chance my little sister'd end up takin' my place in some gorram 'lliance lab. Just like she was takin' my place as a daughter to sell of into marriage. And that was somethin' I just couldn't live with.

So, I went back to Persephone.

Humped

2009-03-17T21:10:00.007-04:00

So, no big surprise, the Feds got there first. Which, y'know, I ain't all that fussed 'bout, considerin' if Seana'd got there first, she woulda handed over just 'bout everything short 'f the keys to the city to get me back. 'f it'd been a matter of just shootin' my dad in the face, I woulda had no quarrel 'bout it, but Seana had too much honor, and even as much as she prol'ly wanted to kill my Pa, she wouldn'ta assassinated him. Leastways, I don't reckon she woulda.

Ironically, Pa'd sent that cortex message to the Feds to add a bit of urgency, sorta to light a fire under my friends' asses and give 'em incentive to be a bit more generous 'bout their offers, as it were, and it sorta turned right 'round and bit him on the ass. They marched their purple bellies right on in and demanded I be handed over into Alliance custody. When Pa asked 'bout his reward, he was answered with laughter and told, "Your reward is us not arresting you for extortion. Don't look so glum, Mr. MacLaren, you should feel very proud to have aided the Alliance in the capture of a dangerous fugitive."

That was the part that made me sit up a bit straighter. Me? Dangerous?! Okay, well, yeah, I am a bit. But still, gorram, the 'lliance didn't have no way of knowin' that. Alexandra MacLaren supposedly shot a man, her ex-fiance, in the back eleven years ago, didn't even gorram kill him, then dropped off the face of all existence but for her wanted poster. What in the world made the Feds think she was a dangerous person was way beyond my comprehension, but I had this sneakin' suspicion I'd be findin' out sooner or later, and more'n likely sooner.

So, they took me. Clapped me in irons and everything. Bothered me, they look on my sister's face, like she somehow knew they was haulin' me off for a crime I didn't commit. I didn't say anything to anyone, but I tried to give my Ma a look that'd let her know, let her see how much I loved her.

And then, I was bein' shoved in the shuttle and rushed back into town, to the local Fed station. It was sorta uneventful. Nobody said a word, they maintained radio silence the whole way, and it was all me admirin' the scenery out the window 'steada cursin' myself for bein' a gorram fool.

Soon as we got there, they tossed me in an interrogation room all by my lonesome and let me cool my heels for a few hours. Maybe wanted to see what I'd do. No doubt they had some gorram psychologist sittin' there on the other side of that glass analyzin' every gorram little thing I did. So I sat there and started composin' haikus in my head, thinkin' of Seana and how to best calm myself down. And when I got one I liked, I doodled it all across the table with the pencil that was sittin' there all by its lonesome.

Freedom is a bird
Or maybe a butterfly
Flaps wings to exist

Let 'em analyze that.

Still nothin'. So I sat there and I thought 'bout everything't'd been goin' on lately, 'bout all my friends, 'bout Belize, 'bout Td, 'bout Duncan, 'bout Sabrina and Seana, Alison, Nack and Laur and Lorie, Opine... Just everyone. I started daydreamin' 'bout situations which never took place, if only to give myself a glazed, sub-human look. Again, let 'em analyze that.

After... Well, I couldn't rightly say how long it was, cuz I had no way of knowin', but it had to've been more'n several hours... they sent somebody in. Creepy man, oily. I mean, not on the surface, but... there was somethin' 'bout him, like his aura had this coatin' of pollution. Made me want to scrub every inch of my body even bein' near him. Said his name was Perkins. Didn't say if there was a Mr. to it, or what his job was. Looked like a gorram paper pusher to me, carefully groomed and clothed, glasses, palid complexion, like he'd just oozed out into the light'a day from under some big rock. Started askin' me questions.

Where have you been the past eleven years?
What have you been doing?
What ships have you been on?
What planets have you been on?
What were you doing back at your father's house last night?
Have you been using the alias 'Imrhien Fargis'?

Shit.

"Immer-what?" He'd pronounced it phonetically, not realizin' it was a Gaelic word. Immer-hine, he'd said. So I tried to play dumb and give him a confused frown. "Who in their right mind'd choose a name like that?" I asked him. "Sounds like the wrong end of a cow or somethin'." I was tryin' to cover up the grimace that always seemed to pop up whenever anyone called me that.

"See, Miss MacLaren," he answered, his voice slimy, "We've been interested in Miss Fargis for some time now, and as far as we can tell, she appeared about the same time you disappeared. Also, there is a striking similarity in how the two of you look." Triple shit with shit on top. This was not good.

I scrambled. "So there's some woman with an ugly name who looks like me. You asked my Ma if I was a twin? Or checked to see if I got any cousins? Reckon I do, but I don't recognize that Immer-whatsit name at all." I put as much disdain in my voice as I could, which, considerin' it's me, was a lot. "What'd she do, kill a Fed?"

The man, Perkins, looked at me for a moment, almost like i was an interestin' bug, then smiled. Weren't no happy smile, or a grimace, neither. More like that or a grinnin' cat who's got a strugglin' mouse under his paw. "Sure, she's an outlaw. The Alliance would like nothing more than to lock her up for the rest of her life. Fortunately for her, our, uh, R&D department has an interest in her that could prove more useful than keeping her behind bars."

Looked like x0x0 hadn't wrecked that transmission after all. Leastways, not the original. Or maybe not 'fore they got it out there. Or maybe she'd missed someone't knew somethin'. Or could be the Lieutenant, or Captain, or whatever the hell he is these days'd 'fessed up to what'd happened 'tween us his own self. Wouldn't put it past him. Bastard.

Oh, right. I was supposed to be lookin' confused and dubious. Right. I was humped. 'Specially if they had any samples of my DNA from back when they grabbed me from Blackburne and put that thing in my head. There'd be no question then. Reckon he had the same thought.

"We will be needing to take a blood sample, Miss MacLaren." He said it with an almost sneer, like he knew I was lyin'. "That way, there won't be any doubt, one way or the other." And he came at me, just like that, a syringe suddenly in his hand. Weren't no point in fightin' him, really. I could either submit to him and not get the shit kicked outta me, or I could fight him and end up on the bottom of a dogpile of Feds't had no qualms 'bout bein' rough with prisoners. I'd have to thank Td someday for teachin' me how to submit.... Y'know, if I ever saw him again.

Calm was the only thing that'd keep me from screamin'. So, I took a deep breath and searched for serenity, and he drew my blood. He almost looked disquieted as he did it. Reckon he was expectin' me to fight him, and maybe my not strugglin' gave him a doubt 'bout whether Alexandra MacLaren and Imrhien Fargis were the same person.

When he was done, he packed up and walked out with a simple, "We'll get the analysis results in a few hours, Miss MacLaren. Until then, enjoy your stay. Either way, you'll be with us for a while."

They left me in the room for probably another hour, though it coulda been ten minutes for all I know. I was so lost in my own thoughts't I wasn't payin' no attention. Barely registered it when a couple armed guards came by to escort me to my holdin' cell.

What'd they want with me? And what were they gonna do to me? And more importantly, how the hell was I gonna get the hell outta this?

I laid on my cot, curled up in a ball of angst and asked myself all these questions and others 'til nothin' made sense no more, just waitin' for 'em to come back for me. I was so humped.

A Wave

2009-03-05T19:44:00.004-05:00

To: Alliance Warrant Office
CC: Christopher Barnett; Nack Barnes; Seana Kawanishi; Tdstraitjacket Manamiko; Duncan Cooperstone
Re: A. MacLaren

To Whom It May Concern:

I am currently in possession of one Alexandra MacLaren. I have been led to believe this information might be of some interest to you, and that this young woman might be of some value to you. If she is, and if you wish to discuss the matter, some agreement may be reached between myself and the party with the most compelling reading for me to turn her over into their custody. Please contact me via cortex if you wish to discuss this matter any further.

Peter MacLaren

Heritage and a Dowry

2009-03-05T19:33:00.001-05:00

Unfortunately, Pa was smart enough to not trust my Ma to guard over me. Far from bein’ worried I might hit my own mother to escape, I reckon he had a pretty good notion ‘bout how I’d got away from him ‘fore. He wasn’t ‘bout to let me run out on him a second time, not when he had a gun trained on me and knew there was still a price on my head. So, he took me with him to make his calls. It was one of those Your Hair Is Leavin’ The Room, I Suggest You Follow It situations that I’d normally end up all hot an’ bothered over, but seein’ as how it was my old man yankin’ me downstairs by the hair to sell me off to the highest bidder… Ain’t really my cup of tea, so to speak.

The commotion woke up the whole house, my three youngest brothers, and my little sister. I think only Jacob really remembered me any. He’d been seven when I’d left, and’d just come into manhood recently. Robert looked as though he had vague memories of some long-lost sister, and to Thomas, I was some kinda legend taken flesh. ‘Course, Petra, my little sister, knew me only as the standard she had to live up to. She was cold, that one, already had the courtier’s mask to hide her ‘motions at eight, and she didn’t speak a word, just sat there at the dinin’ room table starin’ at me, like she was studyin’ me.

Ma’d quietly filled me in on everything I’d missed. Blake and Connor’d found ‘emselves wives and settled down offworld to work and make lots of grandbabies for her. Dylan’d signed on as crew for some transport ship, and Greg’d gone and enlisted in the elite ranks of the ‘lliance military. Things were pretty much the same ‘round home – same bills, same problems. I had to act like I cared. I did, really. Always did wonder whatever happened to all my brothers, and my Ma. But at that moment, I was more worried ‘bout what was gonna happen to me.

She looked down at my hand and saw the ring Td’d put on my finger not even a week before. And then at the bracelet Duncan’d given me the night of the ants in the ‘verse ball. And she saw the pain in my eyes, not just from getting’ caught and facin’ years of jailtime, but from everything else… My own failed marriage to Aeon… All the heartache I’d felt cuz I’d fallen in love with Td and couldn’t do nothin’ ‘bout it cuz of the situation… Of unexpectedly fallin’ in love with Duncan, ‘long with the miserable knowledge that I couldn’t give him what he wanted, what he deserved, that I couldn’t make him happy. The worry ‘bout all the people I loved on the two moons I called home, what with the gorram bots getting’ worse. She looked into my eyes and knew I was truly her daughter, who, like her, felt everything, who walked through life with the weight of the ‘verse on her shoulders. It near killed me to not be able to tell her all of it, to confess myself, all my sins, my wrongs, to the woman who’d taught me what it was to want to be a good person.

Pa didn’t notice nothin’ til he searched me. At what point, he became real interested in the ring and bracelet. Wanted to know if either man’d be willin’ to pay for my hide. An idea occurred to me then… It was risky, but at least I could get a message through. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I’d hoped nobody’d actually be fool ‘nough to show up with money to buy me… I’d hoped they’d realize it was just me tryin’ to let folks know what happened…

So, he sent waves to Nack, Seana, Td, and Duncan, sayin’ he’d be sellin’ my miserable hide to the highest bidder, and that the ‘lliance and my ex fiancé, one Christopher Barnett’d also be contacted to make their bids. I knew Nack and Seana at least’d see it for what it was – information ‘bout my whereabouts. Td and Duncan, though? God only knew whether they’d see it as that, or as a genuine plea for help from me. If either of ‘em knew me half as well as I’d hoped, they wouldn’t show up with a pile of money. Hell, that’s even if any of ‘em, ‘sides Td, could figure out who the hell Alexandra MacLaren was.

After that, it was me tied to a chair while my family looked on. Pa heard from the Feds first. Said they’d be sendin’ someone out to discuss the arrangement. That chilled my blood. Why was it that important for them to apprehend someone after eleven years who was only suspected of shootin’ a man? Shootin’, not even killin’. If it’d really been me, I woulda killed him. But why would they even be interested in me as my old self?

Petra kept watchin’ me. I reckon, the longer we sat there starin’ at eachother, the more I realized she was more my sister’n I’d imagined. I wondered how much she’d been told ‘bout me, if she even knew she’d had an older sister. But, she did know. That look in her eyes, the one that spoke of resentment, said it all. And suddenly, I knew. I could see her thoughts behind those cold, blue eyes. She envied that I’d escaped, and hated me for comin’ back and getting’ caught. She wanted me to get free and take her away to wherever it was I was… Oh no.

I’d touched her mind, opened myself up to her so I could get in and see what she was thinkin’, and she’d plowed right on into my head like a bulldozer. I broke the connection soon as I realized what’d happened, but that didn’t undo any of the damage, it didn’t erase anything she’d seen in my head. She saw my name, she saw Td and Duncan, she saw the many faces of the folks I cherish in my heart. She saw Blackburne and Hale’s Moon. Firefly’s. Fook Yoo’s. Where I’d docked Merkabah. The locket. The future I saw for her. Maybe it was just a jumble of images that meant nothin’ to her, or maybe she understood it all. I could only hope for the former. And I couldn’t look at her anymore. Her aura’d tinted. Just from seein’ in my head. Damn.

So, we sat there waitin’ for responses. There was some small talk as I’d told my family how I’d been livin’ out on the rim. Thomas wanted to know if I’d ever seen a Reaver. I told him ‘bout how the Reavers’d crash land on the planet and make their way into town, how terrifyin’ it was, ‘specially that first night in town over a year ago, when I’d wandered out into the night and one’d attacked me right there, chased me right back to the bar… But how we’d learned to expect ‘em, and to fight ‘em, and to survive ‘em. I even showed Thomas the scar on my back… well, the top of it, anyway. Think I mighta became his personal hero. When you’re twelve, comin’ face to face with someone who’d fought Reavers and won was just ‘bout up there with shakin’ hands with the king of all Londinium.

That was when Petra spoke. All she said was “Butterfly,” but gorram. It meant she knew. A thought occurred to me at that point. I’d made the assumption that my…ability…to see peoples’ auras was some sorta mutation caused by livin’ on Blackburne, and what Jayne’d called “an injudicious exploration of the Wastes” in all that radiation. I’d wondered if it wasn’t somethin’ x0x0 did to me when she knocked me out that one time. Bump. X0x0 herself says it was from the night I’d spent with Lieutenant Juniper, she said he’d opened up a part of my mind in that exchange. Then, there was that ‘lliance document x0x0’d found on that ship parked in Washtown, wantin’ samples of my DNA ‘cuz of… what’d happened with the Lieutenant. So, while I just assumed I was a mutant and my ability was caused by the radiation, there was always the question in the back of my mind… Was it really the radiation? But here and now, my little sister just dove into my mind like it was nothin’, like she’d done it a million times before. And then there was my Ma, how she always seemed to know things ‘bout people, how she could look in my eyes and see my soul. Which begged the question… Was it in me all along and just needed some fine tunin’ or a good knock to get it workin’ right? And of course, there was this new development, the bein’ able to touch minds. This was gonna require some very serious analyzin’ at some future juncture.

So there I was, waitin’ to find out what’d happen in the next few hours. ‘Cuz really, everything depended on that. I’d either be rottin’ in an Alliance jail cell, dead, on my way home, or somebody’s property. I didn’t so much like my odds, ‘specially since the Feds were already on their way. Guess, though, I’d have to wait and see. Wasn’t exactly like I had a choice in the matter anyhow.

Childish Folly

2009-03-04T19:03:00.000-05:00

Damn my sentimentality. Damn me. Damn everything. All I had to do was sneak in, get what I was after, and sneak out. Cake, right? Yeah. Woulda been, for someone not me. Hell, I shoulda hired someone else to do it. But no, I thought I could do it my own self. Stupid.

When I was a girl, I had this locket my Ma’d given me that her Ma’d given her and so on and so forth, back through history, presumably all the way back to Earth That Was. I always thought it was magical, and I’d always cherished it with all my heart. Thought I was some kinda gorram princess when I wore it. Anyway, it had some pretty deep sentimental value. When I ran off from home, I left it there, in its hiding place. Didn’t want to so much, but it wasn’t as though I had a whole load of time to grab things. It was more Ma shovin’ a sack of a clothes and food and a handful of credits at me and frantically whisperin’ for me to get the hell off planet ‘fore Pa found me.

You’re prol’ly askin’ yourself, now why would this damned fool woman risk her life for a silly gorram locket, sentimental value or no? It’s a valid question. Maybe one I shoulda been askin’ myself a time or three million ‘fore I set off on this damned fool trip. Maybe I did ask myself, but, well, I ain’t exactly been what you’d call completely sane here lately, so rationality ain’t a thing I’d’ve listened to anyway. Plus, I had my own compellin’ reason to get it back.

Reckon I coulda done it and got away without anyone bein’ the wiser. Ain’t like my folks lived in some swank estate with alarms or guards. No, I grew up on a little farm, in a little house with my folks and my brothers. I knew every inch of that house by heart, that the third step up to the bedrooms squeaked, that there was a bad patch of floor by the wall near the door, that the kitchen floor creaked no matter how you walked. It hadn’t changed much in the eleven years I’d been gone. Most of my brothers were grown and out on their own. I reckoned the youngest two, maybe three, were still there, finishin’ schoolin’ and helpin’ out ‘round the farm.

The nostalgia hit me as I was casin’ the house. I had so many memories of that house, of my Ma, my brothers. I remembered how Ma’d always felt sympathy for me, bein’ the only girl in a house full of boys, how I was the only one’t had to learn all the decorum and manners and stupid female pastimes – cross stitch, piano, dulcimer, singin’, paintin’, drawin’, cookin’, fashion, readin’ so as to appear intelligent, sittin’ quietly lookin’ pretty… the list could go on forever – and she’d let me run and play with my brothers when my Pa wasn’t ‘round. Mostly, we played Alliance and Independents. Sometimes, it was Cops and Robbers. But, no matter what we played, it was always fun. Nobody ever snitched on me, my brothers and me were close. Hell, bein’ the oldest, I’d helped raise most of ‘em. But we all knew I was the one who had to get married off to some rich man so Pa could make a goodly ‘mount of money off of me.

Reckon that’s why I’d had seven brothers. Pa kept hopin’ he’d get some more girls he could sell off to make his life a little easier, bring him up in the world a little more. Reckon it’s why he was such a hardass when it came to me. Older I got, the more boy my Ma kept poppin’ out, and the more it fell to me to make him a small fortune. Ain’t like my Ma’d taken any issue with havin’ so many babies – she’s Catholic and believes in bein’ as prolific as possible, in the most literal sense.

Anyway, I got in the house just fine. Pa never did mend that broken lock on the window in the back. I skipped the third step, and made sure to step to the very left of the seventh one as I made my way upstairs. Walked down the hall, into my old room. What a shock for me to see I now had a little sister. She was prol’ly seven or eight and was just a spittin’ image of me as a child, a halo of blonde hair framin’ her cherubic face. I stood there for the longest time just starin’ at her. Guess Pa’d finally got his wish. Poor kid. I hate to think what she’s got in store for her future, trained from birth to look like a doll and act like a pretty lapdog for some rich bastard to tote ‘round on his arm like some kinda trophy.

Even bein’ from a poor family, I’d been considered a prize ‘cuz of my looks. I don’t say it outta arrogance; more to explain how a poor farm girl came up in Persephone society and attracted the attention of a man like Mr. Christopher Barnett. He was beautiful. Young, handsome, romantic, charismatic, actin’ all chivalrous… everything a young woman wants in a future husband. When he began payin’ court to me, Lord but there was a stir ‘mongst all the other young ladies. I was hated for catchin’ his eye, but I didn’t care ‘cuz I had what I wanted. I let myself fall in love with him, and it came real near to destroyin’ me… but lookin’ back, I don’t reckon I’d change any of it, cuz I’d rather be who I am now than some arm candy trophy wife. So, I didn’t envy this kid, whoever she was, ‘cuz chances were, she wouldn’t get lucky like I did and escape it all.

I pulled up the loose floorboard and retrieved my locket, which’d been taped to the bottom side of the floor near the back. Surprised me that little girl hadn’t found it. Or maybe she had but’d left the locket there, like buried treasure that she was guardin’. I was walkin’ back down the hall when it hit me. I wanted to see my ma. Couldn’t say why, ‘cept that shed always been so good to me, she’d always loved me. I reckon everything good in my came from her. So I stood in the doorway and watched ‘em sleep – my folks. Kept thinkin’ ‘bout how things mighta been different. And that’s when I heard the hammer cock. Damn.

Reckon my dear old Pa’s a mite lighter sleeper these days’n he was when I was doin’ all my sneakin’ out as a teenager. Or maybe God has a sense of humor and woke his ass up at just the wrong moment. Either way, it spelled major disaster for me, all thanks to my sentimental nature.

He didn’t recognize me at first. Or at second. Ten years surely does change a person. I ran away a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl with proper manners and the last vestiges of baby fat still in place to make me look healthy. Now, I was this black-haired… and God only knew what color my eyes were at that moment, unrefined woman with a body that spoke of hard, manual labor and exotic dancin’. ‘Course, the old man wouldn’t recognize me, I wasn’t in some silly frippery with frills and frocks, and his oldest child was ‘bout the last person he expected to be silhouetted in his bedroom doorway at three in the mornin’.

But Ma knew me. She maybe even knew ‘fore Pa had her turn the light on. Maternal instinct bein’ what it is makes it so you can’t not recognize your own child, your own flesh and blood, and I saw in her eyes that she knew. But she held her silence, presumably just in case her damned fool husband didn’t make the connection. So, I was left with the decision as to which name to use.

It was a conundrum, all right. I could hope my dear old Pa wouldn’t recognize his own kid after eleven years and use the name I’d adopted, the identity I’d become to try and smooth talk my way outta the situation, and possibly get turned into the Alliance for the reward on my head as Imrhien Fargis. Or, I could own up to my real name and hope he’d take pity on me and let me go… Not likely, so, it’d prol’ly be more like him handin’ his own daughter over to the Feds for the price on my head as his kid. Or he’d do like he intended when I was 18 and sell me off into slavery. Or he’d hand me over to Christopher, who more’n likely had his own price on my head. Either way, either name, spelled big problems for me, really. The only question was, did I want to risk my alias bein’ blown? No. cuz he could still recognize me after I’d given it, or someone else coulda, and then I’d have to start all over runnin’, and I’d never be able to go back home or see the people who’d become my family.

I didn’t even address him. I just looked at my mother, the woman who’d given me life, morals, religion, who’d understood who I was even if I didn’t, and said “Mama, I’ve missed you.” My Pa blinked. Ma frowned. I reckon she didn’t think much of me ‘fessin’ up right off. I could see her thinkin’. I could see her tryin’ to decide whether to run and embrace me, or deny I was her daughter. The cool, healthy green of her aura was clouded, thrummin’ with muddled colors of indecision and emotion, reds and oranges and blues and browns and blacks. I nodded to her, almost unperceivably, to let her know it was all right.

She said my name. “Alexandra.” From her, it was almost like a blessin’. The name was so foreign to my ears anymore that it mighta been. Only one who’d said it to me in the last eleven years was Td, who’d figured me out. ‘Course it’d be appropriate at a time like this to think of him, then to think of Duncan. I wondered if I’d ever see either of ‘em again, or anyone else I loved, like Belize, Lily, Sabrina, Seana, Lorie, Nack, Lauralai, Amyla, Cholgosh, General, Alison, Gray, x0x0, Neutrino… The list went on and on for miles. After I didn’t show up back home in a few days, they’d all know somethin’ happened, and they’d maybe come lookin’ for me, but by then, it’d be too late.

Pa got up outta the bed, revolver still aimed dead on me, and walked toward me, almost like he was inspectin’ me. I could see that mind workin’, and I wasn’t likin’ the ideas I was seein’ there. He smiled, and it was this cold, almost evil smile, ‘fore he spoke. Gave me chills to hear his voice, like somethin’ bein’ dragged over gravel. “Well, well, well, Alexandra MacLaren. ‘Bout time you showed up back home.”

Oh yeah. I was in deep trouble.

Like Dust In Space

2009-03-03T19:03:00.002-05:00

It's been so long since I been out in the black for an extended period of time that it's takin' some gettin' used to. Already, part of me's wishin' I'd taken Serendipity 'steada Merkabah... but I chose Merkabah just in case. Serendipity's a gorram luxury boat. Sorta. Well, she's got nice interiors, anyway. It'd be a mite more comfortable than my gorram Starfury, in any case. But, I ain't goin' on a pleasure cruise, and comfort wasn't on my list of requirements for the ship I took. Merkabah's small, light, fast as hell, weaponized, and I fly her pretty well for a leaf in a tornado. Serendipity? Well, she turns 'bout as well as a pregnant cow, and she's 'bout as fast as a herd of snails stampeding through a field of peanut butter. And for what I was plannin', I needed somethin' small and fast and weaponized. Just in case.

Kept thinkin' 'bout things. Not that it was anything new for me, but the difference is, there's somethin' 'bout the black that puts a spin on your head so you ain't always focused on the same things.

I thought a good bit on the Lone Reverie. Where she was, whether her crew was still together, what they were all up to. I spent so long on that boat, 'round all of 'em, and they had such a huge impact on my life, but I ain't hardly thought 'bout 'em in a coon's age. Funny, that. Then I started thinkin' 'bout what they'd say 'bout my current predicament... Honestly, they'd prol'ly laugh and tease me 'bout the girl from Persephone society comin' back and takin' over for the badass little hellion they helped me become. Then Card'd tell me to go my own way and leave 'em bnoth in the dust. 'Course, Card always was sort of a surrogate father figure to me, so he never did think any man was good 'nough. Reckon he'd like Td and Duncan well 'nough, though.

I miss them. I miss everyone. Sometimes, I feel like all I'm made up of are my memories of the people I love, like if I got amnesia and couldn't remember anyone, I'd just vanish. I am what I've been made. By my Ma and my Pa. By Christopher, the knave. By the Alliance. By Card and his crew. By all the folks on Blackburne. By all the folks on Hale's Moon. And out here, floatin' in nothin', surrounded by blackness, that seems all the more true. If it wasn't for Merkabah, maybe 'steada my blood boilin' out my ears, I'd just come apart, unravel, and scatter through space, like dust, just a billion, billion memories lost in time.

Well, ain't that somethin', me gettin' all poetical and sentimental. Tellin' ya, it's the gorram black. It gets to you. Makes you see things different, makes you think 'bout things you wouldn't normally.

I'm 'bout a day out from Persephone. Don't plan on bein' there long. Just to tend to my business and get the hell outta dodge and back on home. Still ain't figured out what to do, but I reckon that'll come with time.

Lack of Revelation

2009-03-02T19:13:00.003-05:00

I needed some time to myself. After everything that'd happened over the last few weeks... well, it was a lot to be thinkin' on, and I'm only one person.

Duncan left. He was tryin' to do what we both knew was right, what I couldn't do - walk away 'fore we did somethin' we'd regret. I wondered for a minute if it wouldn'ta been easier if he just hadn't said anything 'bout his feelings for me. But, honestly, I'm glad he told me, I'm glad I got to know him, I'm glad he's in my life. Granted, fallin' in love right back with him did sorta throw an epic wrench in everything. But I don't regret any of it for a second, and it ain't like we can take any of it back anyway. But now, he's gone and I'm sorta feelin' lost, cuz there's suddenly this huge, gaping void in my life that wasn't there before, and cuz I know I'm the reason he left.

Then there was that 'lliance doctor that came snoopin' around the medpav Monday night after Belize'd woke me up from whatever gorram tranquilizer she'd given me, and Td'd talked to me and calmed me down. Man came in lookin' for Lily, sayin' his assignment was to study and take samples from our.... what'd he call 'em? Xenomorphs. Basically, our anthro mutants. Anyway, he tried to make Belize a doctor so she could help him, but she refused, even though I could see how bad she wanted to sign them papers. Her and Td started questionin' him, and he said somethin' 'bout his DNA an' brainscan bein' on file, which put the memory of Lieutenant Juniper in my head - I remembered how he had the same kinda thing, how they could clone him... so I asked if he was psychic, and he answered in my head. He was in there pokin' 'round - Thank God Lily didn't tell me where the hell she'd got off to with that Ben - and Td and Bel were still talkin' to him, and next thing I know, Td pulled his rifle and shot him. His mind was still in mine as he lay dyin', I could feel his pain, and he told me in my head he'd be back, then started some sorta uplink to transfer the last 24 hours of his memories to somewhere, presumably to wherever they kept his DNA. SO I started stompin' his skull as I heard the numbers climbin' in my brain.... 15%....20%....25%....

I reckon Td and Bel both thought I'd done my nut, cuz they tried to stop me, but I kept stompin' 'til the uplink stopped with an error. Belize sedated me at Td's insistence. Again. So, I laid there on the floor as everything started goin' fuzzy, and I heard his self-destruct timer goin' in my head, and all I saw was orange, all I could say was "Orange." And they weren't gettin' it. So... Ain't sure how I did it, everything was so confused and all I wanted to do was sleep, but I somehow touched Belize's mind. Dunno if it was me screamin' at her for them to get the hell out, or maybe I showed her what I saw... you'd have to ask her that. Everything went black, and the next thing I know, I'm up in the garden over the medpav with Td and Bel.

Belize slept next to me that night. But I couldn't stop thinkin', and well, my favorite place to think's the Wastes. Sure, I'd wanted to run away and stay there before, but at that point, I'd just wanted to be where everything was simple and there were no colors or voices. So, in the middle of the night, I left. Poor Bel, she probably worried herself half to death the next mornin'.

I came back a few days later, and I thought I'd had my head all together, thought I'd calmed down from bein' in that man's head as he died, thought I'd figured out who I wanted to be with. Everyone was at Firefly's. Well, not everyone, especially not Duncan.... but Td was there... he kept starin' at me, wouldn't take his eyes off of me. I reckon the whole situation with Duncan, knowin' how I feel 'bout both of 'em, and then me runnin' off to the Wastes like I did, probably wonderin' if I was ever comin' back, it maybe unsettled him a bit.

He proposed. Got right down on one gorram knee and everythin' and proposed in front of the whole bar and God and everybody. It was the sweetest thing, I think he was actually sweatin' wonderin' whether I was gonna bolt. Truth be told, I wanted to. Marriage ain't worked out so well for me. Ever. Well, the one time to Aeon, but my engagement to Chris... Just, all of it ended disasterously. I can't bear the thought of losin' Td, too. DOn't reckon he really understands why I'm scared to marry him. But, I said yes... so, we'll see where that gets us. I pray it ain't gonna get us right back to disaster.

Can't've been the happiest moment for Belize. Poor woman looked so torn 'tween cryin' and cheerin'. She's convinced that she's destined to be alone for the rest of her days, but I know it ain't true. Just, the right man ain't come along for her yet. And she's so lonely. Can't help that she's gotta watch her ex and her best friend...

Got a wave from Duncan last night. Guess he heard I'd run off to the Wastes and came back. Went out to comb the gorram desert for me on horseback. Crazy man's gonna get hisself hurt or killed runnin' 'round out there. But I guess he made it back safe. Prol'ly clickin' hot with radiation, but safe. I hope he don't get sick.

So, here I am now. I left again. Got me some business on Persephone, so I shipped out on Merkabah. Least folks know where I am this time. And maybe bein' out in the black'll help me find some clarity that I couldn't find in the Wastes. 'Cuz sure enough, hearin' from Duncan got me all manner of confused all over again.

To tell the truth, I'm sorta terrified. All I can do's think 'bout all these things that've happened recently, and all that does is make me less sure 'bout everything. AIn't quite sure where my head is, but I do know one thing for certain. Everything's changed now. Everything. And it'll never go back to how it used to be. I'll never go back to bein' who I used to be. And it makes me a little sad, and a lot scared, cuz I sure as hell don't know what the future's got in store for me. Usually, a person's at least got an idea 'bout that. But right now, I ain't even got a clue what's gonna happen in the next five minutes.

Sand In Her Shoes - A Narrative

2009-02-22T19:03:00.003-05:00

She shoved another shirt in her pack, not even really aware of her surroundings, so focused was she on what needed to be done, and that list of things that needed to come with her. If she stopped to think about everything that had happened over the last week, she wasn't going to make it out the door. Every gun, knife, sword, bat, frying pan, chainsaw, stick, and anything else she could use as a weapon was laid out on the bed, waiting to be packed up or strapped to her. Over the next several moments, she managed to attach all of them to her sack, a few going in their rightful places on her body. Moving around to the nightstand next to her bed, she opened the drawer and extricated her Bible, folding it lovingly in an old yard of purple silk fabric before tucking it into the already-encumbered rucksack sitting on the chair next to her bed.

With that done, she yanked the drawstring on her pack and slung it across one shoulder, taking a quick look around, her mind blank of all emotion, just purpose. Slinking from the room, she glanced up and down the street before heading outside, hoping to avoid as many people as possible, the soft-soled leather boots on her feet whispering against the asphalt as she made her way toward the bar on Hale's Moon. Her aim was to obtain some supplies; foodstuffs and water for her trip out. Once she was there, she could worry about finding more.

Belize was there. That hadn't been planned. She had counted on Belize being at Firefly's. Yet, here she was, sitting there, cool as a cucumber. Imrhien's numb brain backpedaled, and she stopped short, scrambling for an explanation. All that came out was, "Have to get water." Of course Belize took that to mean a glass of water. And of course, all she could say was "Not that water. Water to take." And that was all it took for Belize to figure it out.

She left the bar, going to the only place she could think of that had water: the hydroponic building. Pulling a hose and grabbing a green watering can, she turned the water on to begin filling the bucket. And Belize walked in, having followed her. Damn.

They exchanged words, Belize telling Imrhien she'd go with her to the Wastes, and Imrhien telling Belize that she didn't need the radiation. In that moment, reality came rushing back on her, everything that had happened so recently. Of General, hurting so badly inside that he just wanted to end himself, pointing his gun at their friends because of her. Of Belize, admitting she had a mass growing in her brain and that it might kill her, of her fierce loyalty and protective nature and her adoration for her, even though she had been the one to cause her so much pain. Of Td, who loved her like she'd never been loved by anyone. Of Duncan, who had loved her from so far away for such a long time without her ever even knowing it, who had shown her that love was not selfish, who had asked nothing of her but for her to be happy, who had walked away to give her that happiness....

She was still talking, but wasn't even aware of it. By God, she was going to the Wastes, and she was going to live out her days there as a hermit so she wouldn't hurt anyone else. She would spend her days in prayer and meditation, be one with the earth, forget the pain and just exist.

In the midst of the argument, she heard Belize say, "Immi.. I didnt want to do this...," and felt the needle enter her arm, liquid heat spreading through her body quickly. She felt weak. And then, blackness consumed her.

An Ancient Chinese Curse: May You Live In Interesting Times

2009-02-19T03:47:00.002-05:00

An' to think. A month or two ago, I was bored outta my skull. I swear, I'll never complain 'bout havin' nothin' to worry 'bout again, cuz sure as I know the sun rises every day, I know the 'verse's got a sense o' humor, and that it's got no problem givin' you 'zactly what you was wishin' for just to laugh when you realize it was a real bad idea to be wishin' for it. Here I was, worryin' bout how humiliatin' it'd be if'n no one bid on me for the Firefly's employee auction. Silly me.

Wasn't expectin' things to go the way they had. Figured if anyone was gonna bid on me, it'd be Td. Though, truth be told, I reckon there were quite a few surprises that night, and for more'n just me. My bid was won by Duncan Cooperstone, who I'd said all'f twenty-three words to 'fore the auction. Sure, I knew who he was; Man like that, you can't help but notice... But that he'd bid on me? I think I just 'bout fell over from shock. All I kept thinkin' was, "Um. What?" Anyway, long story short, cuz I ain't tryin' to bore nobody with details, him and I talked and've been gettin' to know eachother.

So, seems all hell's broke loose over it. Lily's been actin' different... I'm fair certain she's disappointed Mr. Duncan didn't bid on her. She's been... I dunno, switchin' back and forth 'tween Ben and Xzander, which's really only provokin' both to wanna kill t'other. She asked Duncan to marry her... And she's been treatin' me like i"m some evil tyrant cuz I wanna look out for her well-bein'. I just dont wanna see her hurt or broke. I don't want her to have to live through that I have. She deserves all the happiness in the 'verse. Guess the thing i gotta remember's that she's her own person, and that she's gotta make her own mistakes, just like I did, to learn. So, while I'd like to be able to stand up and protect her at every turn, I gotta sit back and wait for her to either ask for help, or be there to catch her when she falls. We're both new at this business, so I reckon it'lll just take some time to get used to it.

Part of me knew that General was...upset. I ain't proud o' what I done to him, takin' him as a lover and then leavin' him high n' dry when everything happened with Td. To be fair, we'd discussed it 'fore and'd decided we was just what we was, friends who were sleepin' together. He'd told me he was enjoyin' female attention, so I never gave it a second thought, how he might be feeling 'bout me. Lookin' back, I guess I sorta can see what a slap it musta been when Td an' I ended up together - a person in his position'll always wonder, "What's wrong with me? What's he got that I ain't?" it's been festerin' in him for some time now, an' I can see it in his eyes whenever he looks at Td, like he'd like to rip his throat out. Ain't fair, cuz I'm the one who made the choice, not Td.

Anyway, t'other night, Lily'n me'd got into it, an' it all came out, what Lily was frettin' over, how she thought I was gonna run off an' marry Duncan and then Td wouldn't be her dad anymore, an' out odd, little family'd be all broken up. So, I explained to her that I wasn't leavin' Td, and while maybe in another time or place or life, I'd run off with him, I wasn't now and we were just friends. Well, General didn't like that. He was so angry an' I didn't even realize how my words was just another stone thrown, another brick in the wall, another slap 'cross the face, til it was way too late.

I knew... Saw his rage, his sadness channeled into rage, an' I knew in that moment that somethin' in him had broken, that he needed to get it out of himself so it'd stop eatin' him alive. So, I ogot up in his face an' told him to "Say it." From there, things got somewhat buggered. I ain't gettin' into details, cuz them't need to know've either been told or were there. Bottom line was, I was tryin' to make him see I was the one she shoulda been mad at, not Td or Duncan, to get him to unleash his rage in an environment where I felt safe an' comfortable. Maybe I woulda got hurt, but I wouldn'ta got killed, an' it ain't like I never been hurt 'fore. Least that time woulda been to help a friend. But that didn't happen. All't happened was everything there was hurt emotionally, a few physically. General's gone. Dunno when or if he'll be back, but I hope he's alright, wherever he is.

Belize worries me. She's transitioned from hatin' me over Td to bein' fiercely protective of me an' Td an' our relationship. I know she's got a big.... event happenin' this weekend that could go.... badly, but she seems like she's plannin' for the worst, settin' all her affairs in order an' makin' sure things're how she wants 'em in case she.... don't want up. To the point where she seems to be puttin' my happiness 'fore her own, like hers ain't as important as mine. I need to find the right way to tell her't my happiness ain't no more'r less important than anybody else's, an' that she needs to stop sacrificin' herself for the people she cares 'bout. Sometimes, self-sacrifice's a noble thing, an' you gotta do it or live with yerself if you didn't. But she puts more 'fore her in everythin'. An' really, I know she feels like she's standin' in my shadow, which I hate. Belize has brilliant, beautiful light all her own, she just needs the confidence in herself to really shine. She keeps talkin' bout how no men want her, and it makes me wonder if she don't need to change up her advertisin' campaign a bit if'n she wants a man, cuz even as pretty an' smart an' talented an' funny as she is, if she goes 'round tellin' people how she'll never get a man an' all the things that're wrong with her, nobody'll wanna stick 'round to hear 'bout the good parts.

An' then, there's Duncan. Ain't rightly sure what to think of the man. He professed his regard, then backed off, sayin' that I knew an' that I was in his life as a friend was enough for him. He reminds me some of Td, the honor, the integrity, the strength, the intelligence... Okay, a lot of Td. Truth is, I wasn't lyin' when I told Lily "in another time an' place, I'd run off with him." I've only known him a few days, really, but I feel like I've known him forever. Sorta just like Td. But, it ain't like anything can come of it but friendship. And I'm glad to have his friendship, he's a singular man, an' any woman he chose to stand at his side'd be damned lucky.

It occured to me that I gotta lot of people sacrificin' themselves for my happiness. I don't reckon I'm okay with that. Cuz what'm I sacrificin' for them? An' the thing is, we each gotta find out own happiness, no one else can make another person happy. A body's gotta decide for themself whether or not to be happy. I'm responisble for my happiness, Duncan's responsible for his, Belize's responsible for hers, General's responsible for his, and Lily's responsible for hers. Problem is, I dunno how to tell these people I care so much 'bout to stop sacificin' themselves for me. I ain't some kinda goddess, I don't need to be worshipped, and while there're times when self-sacrifice is appropriate and heroic, but there's way more times it ain't.

Everything's just so complicated now. I ain't quite sure how everything's gonna end up, which kinda scares me. Reckon I should just keep on pluggin' away, an' maybe things'll go back to bein' simple sooner or later. A girl can hope, right?

The Future Is Always Born In Pain

2009-02-10T22:18:00.004-05:00

I got shook up today. Shook up real bad. Hate to admit it, and I'll never 'fess up out loud, but I'm scared. Terrified. Things're movin' fast now. Way too fast. I'm havin' trouble keepin' up. Is it all connected? Guess time'll tell, but by the time we know, it could be too late for all of us. That's what scares me.

The bots're here. On Blackburne and on Hale's Moon. We knew they was on Blackburne. Gorram drones're blockin' the pass to the Wastes, and there've been some skirmishes with warbots so far. No major attacks. I think us findin' 'em was a fluke. Me and x0x0 ran into 'em that night when I brought her outta the Wastes and they attacked and couldn't kill us. They don't know how much we know. I suspect if they did know, they'd be changin' up their strategy and we'd prol'ly all be dead.

I was madder'n a cut snake earlier on accounta findin' out Ben'd kissed Lily 'n' told her he loved her. Ironically, heard about it just after I'd glanced outside and saw him panderin' 'round with that new dancer from Blackburne he's been messin' with. Wanted to kill him. Or 'tleast maim him good and proper. But Lily said no, there was nothin' 'tween 'em and I shouldn't be mad. So I left Fook Yoo's 'n' stormed out into the badlands to find somethin' to shoot at.

Found a drone. I'd heard rumors they'd been sighted on Hale's Moon, but hadn't seen any sign of any. Took it down without much trouble. Ain't so fearsome when they're on their own. But then, it was like the sky disappeared, there were more of 'em'n I could count. All I could do was run like hell, shootin' as fast as I could, reloadin' as fast as I could. And I prayed. Cuz if I died out there, who'd know? Who'd find my body, 'sides gorram Reavers? Who'd tell folks 'bout what I saw?

Ain't rightly sure how I got out alive, but I did. I ran back in town as fast as my legs'd carry me and told the first people I saw. Then I headed for Blackburne to spread the word. I reckon Td saw how scared I was, cuz he headed out to the pass to draw some o' the gorram things out, to thin out the population. Good group went with. Cholgosh, Alison, Belize, and later, General, Jango and Zade showed up to help. We took down more'n I could count, but they was only comin' out a few at a time. Like they was teasin' us or somethin'.

I pray to God Sabrina figures out some way to wipe 'em all out. Or anyone, really. Cuz the longer we wait, the more there'll be. And I'm already terrified. I don't wanna see the folks I care so much 'bout slaughtered by some gorram machines. I don't wanna see alla humanity wiped out cuz the gorram 'lliance needs to have its gorram tight grip on everything't goes on in the 'verse and're willin' to do anything, go to any lengths, to see it done.

Then there's what Pod brought to light t'other day. The fleet of old 'lliance ships massin'. Dunno if it's got anything to do with the bots, but either way, it spells more trouble for everyone. I sent a wave to the Brotherhood lettin' 'em know 'bout it, sent 'em the picture Pod showed me. Maybe they'll be able to figure out what's goin' on with that. Cuz it ain't somethin't needs ignorin'.

And I'm worried 'bout Belize. She ain't been the same since she came back. Always wearin' those sunglasses. Half the time she's cold, like she ain't got no emotions, and the other half, she seems... angry, distant... And then, she's poppin' pills. A lot of 'em. Got a look at the bottle tonight when it fell outta her bag. Ain't aspirin. Chol said she's been havin' bad headaches. But... I dunno, I just get this real bad feelin'. Like somethin's wrong with her. She was actin' funny earlier, askin' 'bout how to get to the Wastes, what with the drones blockin' the pass. She looked... I dunno. I'mna keep an eye on her, though, cuz somethin' ain't right. And it'd kill me if somethin' happened to her.

Feels like everything's spinnin' outta control. Like I'm watchin' this huge storm rollin' in, like I can't do nothin' 'bout it but run 'n' hide when it gets real bad. I don't like that. Makes me feel even more useless. There was a point tonight where I felt like there was no hope, like none of us'd come outta all this alive. But then, I remembered this thing I heard on an old Earth That Was vid....

"All of life can be broken down into moments of transition and moments of revelation. This had the feeling of both...There is a darkness greater than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities: it is against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender. The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain."

So, guess all I can do is keep on as I have and just take things as they come. All I wanna do is protect the people I love and the places I call home. And to do that, I gotta have hope that it'll all turn out right. In the mean time, I got some prayin' to do and some skills to hone...

Gone Soft

2009-02-09T02:36:00.004-05:00

Reckon it's time I stopped swoonin' over girly stuff like romance and dresses and emotions and got my head back where it needs to be - on the situation at hand. Lotta serious stuff goin' down out on the rim lately, and here's me, moonin' like some lovesick cow. What the hell's got into me lately? Guessin' posin' as a Companion's started rubbin' off on me more'n I'd like to admit.

T'other day, I was on Hale's Moon. Ain't seen much of Seana and Sabrina, and Td's been over there workin' on some stuff for the town. Ain't rightly sure how it happened, everything sorta blew up as I got there, but Duncan Cooperstone, the captain of the local crew of the Raivenn, had got shot by a bounty hunter, and also one of his crew, little boy named Jin that he looks after. Seems there was an alert on the cortex with a price on his head from when he went to rescue Ben, Pod and Lily a bit back. She wanted to draw Mr. Duncan out of hidin' so she shot the kid in the arm, then ran across Mr. Duncan before Jin had even found him, shot him, but didn't kill or disable him. Pod had managed to wing her on her way offworld and crippled her ship, groundin' her on our little moon.

A wise man once said, "In order to flush a snake from the grass, one must beat the grass." So, I decided to stomp the shit outta the grass and went scoutin' to flush her ass outta hidin'. It didn't work out quite as well as I'd hoped, the bitch managed to get the drop on me, puttin' a round in my back 'fore I even saw her. But it did have the desired effect of drawin' her out, and Mr. Duncan was able to gun her down.

It pissed me off somethin' fierce, though, that she got the drop on me. That never woulda happened before. I used to be a badass. Somewhere in all the stuff't's happened recently, I lost that edge I'd honed so painstakinly for eleven years. I almost fell apart at Lily's trial, I got snuck up on by a gorram bounty hunter, and I let myself get all ripped to shreds by Reavers earlier today. Been happenin' before then, too, with the bots and the gorram Loyalists, me takin' hits I wouldn'ta taken six months ago.

That ain't me, and I don't like that I'm turnin' soft and sloppy. Maybe it's time I startin' hittin' Td's new dojo and gettin' back to sparrin' and takin' on some jobs as they come up to get my edge back and keep it. Cuz for me, ain't nothin' worse than bein' useless. An' right now, I feel useless.

Conundrums

2009-01-21T11:04:00.002-05:00

Romance ain't somethin' I'm partial to. My first (major) relationship ended so disasterously that I wound up driftin' through space for ten years. My second one ended in divorce, with me runnin' off to a monastery. I knew, even before Aeon, that romance wasn't somethin' that was for me, but I gave it a shot anyway. It's one of the reasons I was willin' to pose as a Companion... they don't get attached. It's about business. Sure, it's a damned lonely existence, but I'd come to terms with the fact that I'll be alone for the rest of my life anyway, and bein' alone tends to work better for me. I'm not opposed to takin' lovers, but anyone who's interested in me for more, I'd end up hurtin' badly. That's the last thing I want.

So, given all that, how in the hell did it happen, and what do I do about it? Td and I've been friends for a while now, stayed friends after him and Belize broke up. And while I've always been attracted to him, I never reckoned on us bein' anything other than friends, given how tore up Belize was over him, given how many women're chasin' after him, given that I value his friendship and don't want to mess that up with somethin' silly like romance, and given that I'm fair certain I'm destined to stay single. Sure, I flirt with him, but I flirt with anything that moves. So, really, how'd it happen?

Guess I always carried a bit of a torch for him, but I always knew nothin' could ever come of it, and I was okay with that. But in the last few weeks, he's been... Well, he's been askin' me to dance at the bar. And then he asked me on a date. A few nights ago, he busted out the dreaded "L" word.

Does it make me a horrible person for agreein' to date my friend's ex? Am I a horrible person for bein' attracted to my friend's ex? The situation with him and Belize was complicated, especially after I got mixed in, but I walked away before they ended it hopin' that maybe by doin' so, they could save their relationship. I know she thinks he left her for me, but he didn't. He had his own set of reasons, and honestly, I can't blame the man for cuttin' loose. I was there as he agonized over hurtin' her and as she wept over losin' him, as a friend for both of 'em... But he wasn't the only one who saw the change in her, and while I empathize with her and think I have a pretty good idea of what was goin' on in her head, I also know he did what was probably the best for both of 'em, cuz in the end, neither of 'em was happy with eachother for their own various reasons. And after that, they had a major fallin' out. I know that while part of her despises and resents him, another part of her still loves him, even if there's no way they'll ever get back together. There's still this part of me that feels rotten over what's goin' on now, but it ain't like any of this was intended.

So, horrible person or not, I went on a date with him. It was nice, a lot of fun, both of us all decked out in frippery. He took me to a bar and we danced. And danced. And danced. Then, he told me he knew who I was. My birth name, and origin. Did it in a way that made me realize he'd never in his life betray me, but it still scares the hell outta me that someone knows. Anyway, after that, he took me back to Blackburne and dropped me off at the bar.

There've been serious words spoken about hearts and love. Ain't like we're plannin' a wedding, cuz Lord knows I'd bolt if that ever got brought up. But he wants to take me out again. He wants to give it a go, try to see if we work out as more'n friends. And deep down, I want to try. Maybe I hate myself for it for Belize, but God help me, I want to try. But there's also the part of me that doesn't want love like that, that isn't willin' to take chances like that ever again, that doesn't want to get my heart broke all over again. And there's that part of me that cherishes his friendship and doesn't wanna ruin it and lose him over romance.

I'm so confused over all of it. I dunno what to do. All I know is, my heart says one thing and my head says another. Any time he's around, my knees start feelin' like they're gonna buckle, and I act a fool. Like when I took a burst to the chest on Hale's the other night durin' the Loyalists' attack - I wouldn't let him see my wounds, I didn't want him fussin' over me, and mostly, I didn't want him to see how much pain I was in. I'm like that with everyone, really, but it's worse with him. Like it'd be the end of the damned world if he saw me vulnerable or somethin'. And that's just stupid. I hate that he has that effect on me. And I hate that I feel like that 'bout someone, even someone who's worthy of it. And I hate that my heart wants to dash off into the sunset with him, but my head knows this'll only end in disaster. And I hate not knowin' what to do. Cuz right now, I'm torn 'tween throwin' myself into his arms and runnin' like hell.

Reckon I should just let it play out, see what happens. One way or another, one day, Belize'll come back from wherever she's got off to with that cousin of hers, and she'll hate me. Ain't much I can do to change that fact. But I think she already does hate me, so it don't change much anyway. Other'n that... Guess it'll work out or it won't. I just don't wanna lose him as a friend. Or have my heart broken for the third time.

Refined and Unrefined

2009-01-20T17:32:00.004-05:00

Alliance Loyalists attacked Hale's Moon last night. I always seem to be there whenever those bastards show up. They tore us up plenty and took off with a lot of the town's supplies. We're gonna have to scrimp to get everyone by for a while. Or maybe somebody needs to put a Robin Hood job together. I'd love to wreck those bastards, but we don't have enough intel to get our revenge. Yet. Maybe I should tap some of my resources to see what I can turn up.

Got a new fellow in town. Ben Bigboots. Dunno what his story is, 'cept that he's got Bowden's Malady and he's hurtin' somethin' fierce for a reliable supply of Pascaline D. He's the mysterious sort, don't say much, but you can tell he's just sittin' back and takin' it all in, tryin' to figure things out... Who can be trusted, who can't, and the general way of things out on our little rim world. Ain't sure I trust him yet, but his heart seems to be in the right place. The colors don't lie, but I see darkness there, too, and I need to find out what that's about before I'll trust him further than I can throw a piano.

Dunno what he thinks of me. Seems like every time I open my mouth, he gets this bewildered look on his face, like he thought he had me figured, then I turned it upside down on him, and he's gotta start over from scratch. Honestly, I don't rightly know what everyone else thinks of me, either, anymore. I don't even know what to think of me. I came back from the monastery different, and I can't help but reckon people're scratchin' their heads tryin' to figure out whether I've gone bibbledy, or what.

I feel like I'm caught between two selves, the self I've been since I left Persephone, the scrappin', take-no-shit-or-prisoners hellion, and the refined, reserved, well-mannered lady I gotta be as a Companion. I've been slippin' out of the Companion more and more 'round town and more back into my old self. I think it's because nobody in town sees me as a Companion, or because I'm useless as a Companion, except when I'm on the job. Even then, it feels like a lie, because I'm there for information. I turned away from that life of luxury and fancy things and bein' a lady a long time ago. I coulda been happy in it before, but now I know better 'bout a great many things, and I could never be happy sittin' on a pedestal lookin' pretty and watchin' as the world passed me by. I'd rather jump in and be up to my neck in the mess. Ain't sayin' I don't wanna keep on with my assignment, cuz I wouldn't turn my back on the brotherhood, and I've been able to get some valuable intel doin' what I am. Just sayin' that, lookin' back and knowin' now, firsthand, what my life mighta been if I'd stayed, I'm glad things went the way they did. Reckon I just need to find a happy medium between bein' a hellion and a Companion.

He knows my name...

2009-01-19T23:19:00.005-05:00

It's been so hectic lately. Hasn't been much time to stop and reflect on anything. What with the bots attacking town openly, and now the gorram Alliance Loyalists attacking Hale's Moon.... My focus keeps ending up at one thought, though. That he knows my name.

It's been eleven years since I was her, since I ran like hell. Nobody's put two and two together in eleven years. Guess the Reverie did a better job on me than I ever coulda hoped. I hadn't even thought about back then, about him, in such a long time. Just one of those things that gets pushed aside in the midst of life.

And then, I was in his arms, and he said my name, and the world dropped out from under me. I gotta wonder how he found out. Did he want to find out more about me, or just run across an old wanted bulletin on the cortex and recognize the eleven-years younger me? God, he knew so much. What I was, who my family was... and my name.

Dunno if I'll get over this. At least it's somethin' to distract me from the bullet holes.

Letters from the Wasteland

2008-12-01T19:12:00.002-05:00

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

2008-11-30T21:11:00.003-05:00

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

2008-06-19T12:51:00.005-04:00

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

2008-06-12T14:17:00.005-04:00

Bump.

2008-06-05T18:55:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-04T19:09:00.002-04:00

Rovin' Thoughts

2008-06-02T18:17:00.002-04:00

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]

2008-05-31T23:44:00.005-04:00

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

2008-05-28T17:44:00.002-04:00

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...

2008-05-14T19:29:00.003-04:00

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)

2008-05-09T18:45:00.000-04:00

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

2008-05-08T20:35:00.000-04:00

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

2008-05-06T18:44:00.000-04:00

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

2008-05-05T13:29:00.002-04:00

'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

2008-04-22T21:21:00.002-04:00

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.

2008-04-22T17:33:00.001-04:00

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?

2008-03-12T02:59:00.006-04:00

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

2008-03-10T12:43:00.003-04:00

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