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FIREFLY UNIVERSE
GR RP "Adventures in Gunrunning" ACT 21
Tuesday, September 28, 2004 8:19 PM
SQUEE
Wednesday, September 29, 2004 8:48 AM
CAPNRAHN
Thursday, September 30, 2004 11:08 AM
CHANNAIN
i DO aim to misbehave
Thursday, September 30, 2004 4:00 PM
SAINT JAYNE
Thursday, September 30, 2004 9:33 PM
Quote:Damon awoke to the sound of the phone ringing and found a wall staring him in the face. He started to turn over and immediately regretted it, as pain shot through his small, broken body from seemingly everywhere at once, hitting him like a bucket of ice water. He relaxed and lay there until the sharp pains melted into one dull ache, but even then it was difficult to breathe without the tears forcing their way into the corners of his eyes. He was prepared for the pain the second time, and managed to sit up. He looked around. The wood floor was littered with empty bottles, crumpled cans and used napkins. The vid tables were over turned along with the dishes and dinner that had been interrupted the night before. The vid unit was still on, though it had been muted. Snoring could be heard from the kitchen. His mother lay passed out on the sofa with a bottle of whiskey tucked safely under her arm. Damon quickly got up, no longer caring about his injuries, and walked over to his mother. He was glad to see that she didn’t appear to be injured; the alcohol had done more damage than anything else. He placed a hand on her shoulder and shook it gently. “Mom,” he whispered. No response. He shook her again, raising his voice slightly. “Mom, wake up.” She moaned softly and slowly opened her eyes. She muttered something about a drink and let her eyes drift closed again. Damon took the bottle from her hand and slowly made his way to the kitchen, trying to rub some feeling back into his stiff limbs. The big man lay hunched over the kitchen table, snoring loudly, still clutching a mostly empty bottle. Damon entertained the idea of putting a cup of Tabasco sauce in his bottle, but decided against it. He quietly filled a cup with water and returned to the living room. “Mom,” he shook her again, trying to encourage her to sit up. After a few attempts, he managed to get her into a mostly upright position. He gave her the cup and watched her drain it greedily. She lay back down, letting the cup fall to the floor. When he stood up, she took his hand and looked up at him. “Don’t go… please.” He looked at the stairs longingly. His room was up there, where he could lock the door and fall safely asleep on his bed. “I was just grabbing the remote.” He picked up the remote control, eased himself down onto the floor with his back to the couch and flipped to the Saturday morning cartoons.
Quote:Damon sits up as more slaves continue to enter the barracks, one more starved and beaten than the last. The room becomes a bit brighter as a few more dim, barely functioning lights are turned on. Damon forces his eyes to take in as much light as they can handle, trying to pull his aching head out from whatever depth of sleep or unconsciousness he had been in. He does a quick check to make sure nothing is broken- nothing important anyway- but the only thing that stands out is a burning pain on his right arm. Dismissing it, he returns his attention to the men settling onto the cots around him. “Who is this Crofton guy anyway?” He looks around when they suddenly stop and stare at him. “What?” “You better watch your mouth, new boy. The guards catch you callin Master Trihn by his first name and that beatin will look like a pat on the back.” Damon’s gaze is pulled to the backs of the men as they pull off their sweat-soaked, bloodstained and dirt-covered clothing. Not one of them is without at least a few scars- long thin ones that definitely didn’t come from a fist. But what really catches his attention are their brands. TRIHN, in Chinese. All on their right shoulders without exception. Damon frowns as memories of earlier that day seep back into his mind. “Tzao gao…” He lifts his right sleeve to see that his shoulder now carries the name Trihn too. His fingers feel like fire against his wounded flesh and he quickly pulls them back with a wince. “Don’t worry,” one of the men says, “it’ll be sore for a while, but then it’ll heal over in a week or so and you won’t feel a thing.” “Don’t worry??” Damon stares at him incredulously. “They stuck a ruttin white-hot iron on my arm! This isn’t gonna heal over ever!” He stands up, almost too fast. The man gives him a confused look, which is soon mimicked by the others. “Where are you going?” He sticks his hands in his pockets, fishing for anything useful. He pulls out a pin. “What’s it look like? Gettin the guay out of here.” It’s quiet for a moment and then they start laughing. “With a pin? You are 300 feet below the surface and they shut down the lifts at night. Besides, you’d have to get through that door.” He nods toward the door that is now shut and locked. Damon eyes the security lock for a moment before getting up and walking over to it. Hundreds of eyes stare at him as if seeing a monkey fixing an engine with a toothpick. He pulls off the cover and scans the circuitry. Main power, secondary systems… override. The wires are almost too thin to handle and his pin comes in handy a few times. Several minutes later, the door clicks. Damon grins and looks over his shoulder at which ever of the slaves not already asleep. “Who’s with me?” The closest one shakes his head and lies down. “Y’re out of y’r gorram mind, kid. Take my advice an git some sleep while ya can. Work starts at four AM.” Damon looks at the others, most of which turn over to go to sleep- the ones that don’t just continue to stare at him. “There are guards out there you know… you step outside that door and you’re asking for a whip.” Damon rolls his eyes and quietly opens the door. “Guards are just overpaid, lazy assed idiots… they won’t even notice I’m gone til the morning.” “It already is morning, son, you have less than 4 hours to dig through 300 feet of solid rock with a pin. Best of luck.” He lies down, others follow his lead. “Look, I’ve found ways out plenty places before. I’ve been a slave for 3 years and I know what I’m doin.” “Try adding 30 to that and you’ll be where I’m sittin.” “Or 40,” someone shouts out. More voices shout for them all to shut up. Damon lets out half a laugh and turns back to quietly opening the door. “There’s no ruttin way I’m stayin here for that long…” “You’re right, you’ll be dead in less than a week.” “You want to get out don’t you?” “Yeah, but I want to be alive when I do it.” “If death’s the only way out of here, then I’ll take it. But you stay here and you’re already dead.” A voice calls out from the back of the packed room: “Shut up and let us sleep, you moron! Go get yourself killed on your own time.” “I’ll give him five minutes before they catch him…” another mumbles. Damon lets out a silent sigh and opens the door to peer into the tunnel. They want to spend the rest of their lived here, let them. He is just about to step out when a voice is heard down the tunnel. “Hey, which one of you left the door open?” Damon’s mind races. Run? Stay? Will I make it? Will I get another chance? His feet take off. He speeds down the tunnel faster than the condition of his wounded body should be able to take him. Don’t slow down. Keep running. Don’t slow down. He turns a corner and runs straight into a guard.
Friday, October 1, 2004 6:13 AM
ASTRIANA
Friday, October 1, 2004 10:31 AM
Sunday, October 3, 2004 6:25 AM
MANIACNUMBERONE
Sunday, October 3, 2004 5:35 PM
MERCEDESTROY
Sunday, October 3, 2004 8:29 PM
Sunday, October 3, 2004 8:34 PM
Monday, October 4, 2004 11:27 AM
Monday, October 4, 2004 11:56 AM
Monday, October 4, 2004 1:59 PM
Tuesday, October 5, 2004 12:56 AM
Tuesday, October 5, 2004 11:07 AM
Tuesday, October 5, 2004 2:57 PM
Quote:He pauses his work to give her a sincere smile, if not a little nervous. He can't help but feel like he's setting himself up to be shot, but then, she probably feels the same way. So will I, if you have questions I mean. Just let me know if I cross a line and I'll do the same. Deal?
Tuesday, October 5, 2004 4:18 PM
Tuesday, October 5, 2004 4:33 PM
Tuesday, October 5, 2004 4:50 PM
Tuesday, October 5, 2004 7:38 PM
Tuesday, October 5, 2004 9:28 PM
Tuesday, October 5, 2004 11:21 PM
Wednesday, October 6, 2004 4:25 AM
Wednesday, October 6, 2004 8:30 AM
Wednesday, October 6, 2004 11:04 AM
Thursday, October 7, 2004 8:40 AM
Thursday, October 7, 2004 2:15 PM
Thursday, October 7, 2004 3:02 PM
Quote:River sits on the floor of the cargo bay, studying the ball in her hand and the jacks on the floor in front of her. Not far away, Mal, Simon, Book and Jayne are playing cards on a crate. Things are as they should be. River smiles and looks up at Kaylee. “This time, I’ll get four.” Kaylee laughs kindheartedly. “Jien tah duh guay!” River holds up the small ball. “Watch.” She lets it drop from her hand and begins scooping up jacks as it bounces. She looks up at Jayne for a moment, her hand still moving. “No cheating.” Jayne’s expression feigns innocent. “Cheating! I don’t cheat. Mal, tell ‘er how I don’t cheat.” River grabs her forth jack and grins at Kaylee as she hands her the ball. Mal puts a card on the crate but doesn’t look up as he speaks. “Jayne? Jayne never cheats.” Jayne grins and reaches for his beer. Mal puts another card on the table. “He just likes takin’ advantage of those who aren’t payin’ too close attention. Full house.” “What?!” Mal flashes Jayne a smug smile and reaches for the chips. “Pardon me, captain, but I believe the winnings are mine.” Simon lays his cards on the table. Jayne stares and points a finger. “Now that’s cheating. I think we oughtta-” "RedRedRed Reeed Alert ... All Crew to Battle Stations ... Red Alert ... All Crew ..." Before anyone has time to react, the air lock door swings open. Two Blue Sun agents step into the bay, each carrying a gun. The sound of metal scraping against the floor echos through the walls. Simon, Book and Mal are only halfway to their feet when a shot goes off, hitting Simon straight in the head.
Thursday, October 7, 2004 3:03 PM
DECOY
Thursday, October 7, 2004 6:55 PM
Thursday, October 7, 2004 8:11 PM
RAVENWHYTEWING
Thursday, October 7, 2004 10:58 PM
Friday, October 8, 2004 10:50 PM
Saturday, October 9, 2004 4:21 AM
Saturday, October 9, 2004 7:44 AM
Saturday, October 9, 2004 7:55 AM
Monday, October 11, 2004 11:09 AM
INARAESQUE
Quote: Flashback: Inara snuggles down into the crook of Thorne’s arm, pulls the coverlet up once again, and sighs contentedly. “I had wondered if your natural empathy and my store-bought version would complement or clash, but I never expected anything so intense, so complete. The bond was amazingly deep. I hope that you felt the same?” A soft chuckle emerges from the depths of the coverlet; Inara's face appears from a fold to give Thorne a significant look of agreement. The two lay quiet for a while, and then Thorne becomes serious, as though he has made a difficult choice. He rolls on his side to face Inara and speaks. “When minds and souls are as close as ours have just been, sometimes other things can be sensed. I ask this only because I wish to help. What else is it that troubles you, besides your love for the Captain?” The pleasantly satisfied glow seeps from Inara's face, and she sits up in bed, resting her head against the high pillows. Refusing to meet Thorne's eyes for a moment, Inara shrugs. "Love? The Captain? I don't know what you mean, Thorne." There are some things a Companion should never discuss. “Please. It doesn’t take an empath to see you love him, and he you. Everyone who’s been on the ship for more than a day knows, except the Captain. There’s probably some stray Puritan gene in his makeup that won’t allow him to admit it. The same one that doesn’t allow him to separate love from sex.” Indifferent to her nakedness, Inara slides from the bed and retrieves her long robe. When she turns around, Thorne has donned a robe as well. "It's not right, you know...to love someone when you know it can never work…” Inara picks at the edge of her robe sash, eyes downcast.“...To let them know how much you love them...when you know both your hearts will be broken eventually. It's easier, and kinder to just suffer it all alone.” Thorne walks to her and takes her hand. “I have had some experience with unrequited love, and wish now that I had acted on it. The heartbreak of never knowing what could have been is far worse, and lasts longer.” He releases her hand and begins to dress. “You and I will be great friends, and may share good times together. We have much in common and enjoy each other’s company. But the feelings between you and the Captain can be on a whole other level. It would be a shame not to give them a chance to blossom. I do sense, though, that you’re not yet ready to make that decision.” With a tiny nod, acknowledging Thorne’s point, Inara replies. “I don't share my true emotions lightly, Thorne...I don't generally share them at all. But, when one empath comes in contact with another...perhaps it’s fate? You do have the truth of it, but my other problem may make it a moot point anyway.” Inara strides over to the bedside table. Roughly pulling the drawer open, she throws a box of syringes and tiny vials onto the bed. As one vial rolls across and off the bed, Throne catches it surely, holding the label up to the light. With a harshness he can scarcely credit, she continues. “Van Dreen’s Syndrome. A little genetic gift from earth-that-was. If I can stay on my drug regimen I do all right, but miss a dose and the nosebleeds start, and the headaches. Miss two and there are seizures. Miss three and you’re in a coma. Four…No one ever misses more than four...” “I’m familiar with Van Dreen’s,” he replies, “but it can be cured now…” “If you’re wealthy, yes,” Inara turns away, hiding her despair.
Quote: Flashback: “When it first manifested, House Madrassa loaned me the money for the stabilization, and then made me leave. Even though Van Dreen’s isn’t communicable and shows no symptoms if treated, they didn’t want the slightest rumor of illness within the House. Now most of my money goes to Madrassa to cover the loan, and for the drugs. I have enough to take a liner from New Hokkaido to Ariel, but then I’ll have to beg charity from the Chapter House there just to afford the minimum treatment. And I can’t let my friends here know. They’d just try something rash to raise the money, and they need to be looking for Simon…” Thorne considers for a moment, and then makes another decision. “As you may have guessed, I’ve taken quite a liking to you. After this little caper ends…” Thorne smiles, trailing off on that thought, and starting on another. “Gunrunning is a sort of hobby for me, a small part of my usual business, and I have more resources available that you might guess. I think that insuring the continued health of one of the wonders of the ‘verse is a worthwhile use of a small portion of my ill-gotten gains, and can only improve my karma.” Inara is intrigued by the offer, but for the first time is suspicious of Thorne’s motives. “Many men in your position would expect much in return for such a gift. An exclusive contract at least, more likely indenture or slavery. You would have my gratitude, or course, but I must know your full price before I agree. There are things more precious than life to me, and I will not give them up.”
Quote: Flashback: “We should at least consider it a loan,” Inara demurs. The medicine he proposes to send costs more than Serenity herself. She knows this only too well; she’s been saving as much as she can… “It might take me some time to pay you back, but…” “No.” He interrupts. “Don’t even suggest it. Just think of it a favor between friends.” “If you’re really sure.” “I am. And that settles it.” Inara can no longer keep up her calm façade. First, her eyes fill with tears, then her chin starts to quiver, Suddenly, sobbing with relief, she throws herself into Thorne’s arms and buries her face in his chest, tears streaking her carefully applied cosmetics. He holds her gently, protectively; chin resting on her head, left hand softly patting her shoulder. Just this one moment is all the payment he needs. As her crying subsides, Thorne releases her, with a last gentle caress of her cheek. He gives her a moment of privacy as she ineffectually tries to restore her ruined makeup. “And what of you and the Captain? I could intercede for you…try to open his eyes. Or perhaps I should just get out my Stupid stick and beat some sense into him.” He leans forward and kisses her lightly on the forehead, like a father kissing his daughter. Inara shakes her head, not quite ready to think of Mal, not ready to let Thorne leave yet. “No. One problem at a time.” She kissed him again, deeply, tenderly, and they fell once again into each other’s arms, into her bed…
Monday, October 11, 2004 4:05 PM
Tuesday, October 12, 2004 10:33 AM
Tuesday, October 12, 2004 8:26 PM
Tuesday, October 12, 2004 8:49 PM
Wednesday, October 13, 2004 7:14 AM
Wednesday, October 13, 2004 10:46 AM
Wednesday, October 13, 2004 2:06 PM
Quote:INARA is the first to speak, concern evident on her face. "RIVER, sweetie? What is it?" She checks all motion for an instant and then holds out empty hands. "No one here is going to hurt her, Merz. I promise. Is she alright?”
Quote: MERZ "What is all right? How am I supposed to judge what is all right for her? For any of you? DAMON says that things have been … done to her. Bad things. If she has been in Alliance hands, then we are KIN. I have an obligation to her." MERZ lifts her voice, trying to make a point, to respond as one of them. Maybe she can make herself understood. "How can I help her? What do I need to do? How can I protect her?" . She lowers her head and her voice, but it carries to the back of the surrounding crowd anyway. "Help me."
Wednesday, October 13, 2004 3:35 PM
Wednesday, October 13, 2004 5:56 PM
Thursday, October 14, 2004 2:19 AM
Thursday, October 14, 2004 3:08 AM
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