WYTCHCROFT'S BLOG

wytchcroft

teasers for the weekend (hopefully!)
Monday, August 20, 2007

The wide, heavy and fragrant – not to say just plain stinksome – expanse of the Seleni delta rolled out across the miles as far the eye could strain to see. Tangles of green and purple textured fleshly and moist. Under the knots of vines, roots and wierd uprising creepage, were veins of dark water. Narrow atrophied causeways, browned and humid.
The speedboat the men were on roared against the inert sludgy waters like an animal caught in a mire. The men themselves were, for the moment, quiet. One, at the back, minded the engine, scanning the unblinking horizons with a veterans narrowed gaze and, on occasion, flicking out a long macheted arm when his vision was obscured by growth.
Their aim today was speed, not concealment – and the boat seemed determined to prove it..

The man at the prow of the craft was a killer. Wanted. Feared. A large man known for his temper. A soldier feared as ruthless and a criminal feared for his lusts. He had, in his span, killed many things and in many ways. He stood still – with a weapon lying in readiness on his lap – while a tensed hand spread its fingers to deliver a stealthy killing blow.

The man at the engine of the boat had barely the time to blink before the killer had spun around and struck. There was the meaty sound of flesh striking flesh.
“Ruttin’ mosquitos!” yelled Jayne Cobb. Looking at the boatman with appeal in his eyes. “they’re driving me nuts!” he slapped again, nearly toppling off the speeders low prow.
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- about face http://fireflyfans.net/sunroomitem.asp?i=17614 -
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“This aint up for debate Doctor.” Mal was firm. “It may be that it’s tempting to let that prodigal Hwoon dahn stew awhile in his own danger and – undoubted - fear and remorse but... we – well you know the drill Doc’, we don’t leave a man behind - i’m tired of speakin’ it”.
“Tired of hearing it...” interjected Zoe.
Simon nodded. “and on you Captain? Frankly, it even sounds tired.” Simon's voice was thin – but raised nonetheless. “Captain, Jayne isn’t behind – he’s... backward.”
There was a pause then – a sudden hush.
Before the slow ripple of mirth that quickly grew into half hysterical laughter and embarassed blushes.

Mal wiped an eye. “Well, Doc’ – Simon, i don’t dare say you wrong on that score – but if he’s backward, well, I guess I’m just the only one who can turn him around.”
The sentance finished less strongly than he would’ve wished. But he was still smiling and no-one had the heart now to complain anew.




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see you in a few days time hopefully!

COMMENTS

Tuesday, August 21, 2007 4:54 AM

SAFEAT2ND


Sweet!

Keep it coming. Although, if you put it in the Blue Sun room in larger chunks...

Just sayin' is all...;)


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