Saturday, December 23, 2006

River remembers those fallen Post BDM.


AN: Well, I started my "Birds of a Feather" series, and then I got locked out of this site. For six months. Six looooong, excruciating months. My muse left me for a sculptor in New York, so while I am sort of timeline-formatting/retrofitting for a new story, I have this. It has been in my head for a while, and for now it is all I have. Happy Holidays, one and all.


She strode through the crowded alleyway, desperate in her search for what she needed before the ship had to leave. Not that Serenity could take off without her pilot, of course. But River didn’t want to inconvenience the crew…There! She could feel her target’s train of thought again, eager and anxious for a day of good business. She turned another corner, and there it was.

Lee’s Religious Wares was a modest stand in a back alley of Persephone’s Eavesdown Docks, and Mr. Phillip Lee was dedicated to bringing holy comfort of every kind to the people of the ‘verse. He saw a young woman, of late teens or early twenties, striding purposely towards his stand. A customer, actually seeking out his stand?! Phillip was delighted. The young lady tucked her black hair behind her ear and picked up a wooden cross and a bible. She put money on the table, mysteriously exactly the right amount, and was gone.


She carefully put the glue tube down, and gently placed the cross on the wall above the bed that had once belonged to the late Shepard Book. She had it placed with mathematical precision and excellence. Not a hair to either side. She then picked up the Bible that she had bought, and before she set it on the table she penned in her best writing:

In loving memory of Shepard Meria Book


River sat at the pilot's seat, staring at the black. It was so big. More than she could hold, and she wasn't stupid enough to try. She already held too much. The console alerted her to space trash floating calmly in Serenity's path. River quickly moved around it before it set off an alarm fit to raise the whole ship. That was the last thing she wanted. Musings interrupted, River went back to her bittersweet work.

She carefully taped (not glued, toys were meant to be played with) the plastic dinos in place, just how he had liked them best. His favorite, the stegosaurus, was featured prominently over the middle of the center panel, and seemed to give her a trusting look. When all of the cockpit's permanent residents were securely in place, she carefully took out the slim dagger that she always had strapped to her hip (unbeknownst to the rest of the crew) and carved with the utmost care, in the far left corner of the console:

In loving memory of Hoban Washburne


Zoë slept leaning back in the pilot’s chair, her hands clasped over her swollen belly. She stirred when River sat in the co-pilot’s chair, making it creak.

“What’re you doing up so late?” she asked sleepily. River ignored her.

“You’re doing better.” River did not pose this as a question. “I think it’s time.”

“Time for what?” asked Zoë, confused.

“Move your hand under the rim or the console. No, a bit to the left. There!” Zoë’s hand hit paper.

“Read it.” River glided out of the cockpit. Hands, trembling, Zoë slowly unfolded the note. Her breath caught at the sight of the familiar handwriting, her eyes blurring at the words.

To Zoë, my autumn flower

Forever I shall love you Through the good and the bad The happy and the sad And all the geese-jugglers in between

I soar With your hand on my shoulder ‘Cause you are my boulder from which I take my strength

I will never ever leave you willingly and I know you’d do the same for me and that helps me all the time

I worry for you everyday And I hope that you come back Cause I couldn’t handle be’in alone with only the cold black Truly

I love you baby, ~~Wash

Zoë began to cry then. It was a truly cleansing cry. When she was done, she took a deep, steadying breath. She looked up and faced the stars, unafraid. Zoë knew the pain would never truly go away, but for now, she was alright.


Saturday, December 23, 2006 6:52 PM


You had me pretty close to cryin' there. Shiny work ;)

Saturday, December 23, 2006 7:57 PM


Beautiful piece. Loved the idea of River putting up tributes for them on the ship.

Once complaint, it was Shepherd Derria Book.

Saturday, December 23, 2006 9:27 PM


Oh, poor Zoe but that was great finding Wash's poem and very affecting. Not sure Wash would have wanted River to carve that memorial bit into the pilot's console though but he would very much have approved of taping the dinos in place. Ali D :~)
You can't take the sky from me

Sunday, December 24, 2006 9:34 AM


How sweet - it brought tears to my eyes.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006 6:56 AM


Definitely a shiny kind of tearjerker, GrayAlbatross...though two things did kinda put me off in spots:

1) Like Gwenfrewi said, Book's first name wasn't Meria. It was Derrial;)

2) I too thought River carving a message into the console casing was a bit too wonky. Both Mal and Kaylee are gonna freak. Plaque would have been more respectful and less damaging;D



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River remembers those fallen Post BDM.


Birds of a Feather, Chap. 1.1: Of Bears and Browncoats
Sorry! Sort of short, pressed for time. Badger has a job that dredges up Zoe's family ties.

Birds of a Feather: Prolouge
Haha!I have begun.POST BDM. 9 months after, our crew starts afresh. It get's more exciting later.

Shepard Book said that Mal had a way. My atttempts to capture it in poetry.

The Nature of Things
SPOILERS!!! Post BDM, a practice fic on how our favorite crew is faring 9 months after Miranda. Feedback is Shiny! :)