That's right, isn't it? (Firefly, River and Jayne)
That's right, isn't it?
Firefly | River, Jayne (slight River/Jayne if you squint) | 839 words | PG | Set sometime after the movie.
She's found that most human things are impractical, actions and rules thought up as life goes along. She doesn't understand the lack of planning. Why didn't anyone make diagrams, lay out possible outcomes and calculate the risks? Love, death, friendship and life would all be easier then.
Written for uberniftacular for a gift-giving, beta-read by digitaldesigner. And here is a companion gif :)
It's different now, but still the same, the same, the same.
She floats through the ship, Serenity clinging to her feet. She can feel the ship underneath her, and with the ship comes feelings, thoughts and impulses; all the things that make her a home.
(River is the ship.)
No, that's not right, she's not the ship, she's on the ship; Serenity is a home. Her home. She turns the corner and Zoe washes over her and she's almost lost in the wave. Confusion, anger, hurt and over it all, the tinge of grief. River has to hold on to the railings to keep herself still.
(Just let it wash away.) She needs her thoughts to be hers now.
Running down the walkway, she comes to an abrupt halt. Everything is smoothing out and she can feel a slow steady beat washing over her. She looks in front of her and sees only light.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
Jayne is there. Solid. The weights go up, down, up, down. His thoughts are clear and his breathing is even. He's not a wave, he's not an ocean, he's a lake. She rocks gently and slows down, down, down. She breathes and remembers that she is a girl, a human girl and not a machine. Maybe not a perfect girl, but this is right (she is right), and maybe that's all that matters. Jayne is a lake and she's standing by the lakeside. The water is quiet. Not a ripple in sight and she wonders if there is fish in there. Maybe hidden mysteries in the water depths that she can explore. But that will have to wait; she has more important things to do.
(Right?)
She starts to build a castle in the sand by the lakeside. She builds up, up and hope that the walls don't come crashing down.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
"Whatcha doing, girl? Why are you staring at me? It's creeping me out." Jayne stopped his rhythm and made her lose her place.
"The ship is orange. Repetitive motion makes linear thought-processes possible."
"I thought you were better now? You know, not crazy." He does that arm movement near his head again, but she knows he doesn't mean it like he once did. He's changed as well. Once upon a time there was a statue, a hospital and a planet and the world turned. Different, different, but the same.
"She is. I am, better now. All my parts are mine, but they aren't all in the right place. It takes time."
"I guess that makes sense in a way. Your brother said that the gorram Miranda stuff would help you."
"I did the impossible, but it didn't make me mighty."
He nods in agreement, but doesn't say anything else and she's glad he doesn't make her explain. They both lapse into silence as he goes back to his weights.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
She goes back to her castle. She lays all the pieces out before her and fits her mind back together, Jayne's repetitive motions serving as a shield against the rest of the ship. The castle is taking form, growing before her eyes and the weights go
Up. Down. Up. Down.
Jayne-man. She likes that he's so uncomplicated. Some might say he's stupid, but River knows better. The insides match the outside; the wit is sharp, but the mind is slow. He says what he means and he doesn't move in circles. All lines are direct and it's an acceptable contrast.
With a ship full of thoughts and voices that lie (people don't always say what they mean, River has found, and she wonders why), he's linear. Jayne always says what he means, he doesn't lie because he doesn't need to: he doesn't care what people think. That's not true, River thinks, why is she lying to herself? That seems impractical. Maybe it's human? She's found that most human things are impractical, actions and rules thought up as life goes along. She doesn't understand the lack of planning. Why didn't anyone make diagrams, lay out possible outcomes and calculate the risks? Love, death, friendship and life would all be easier then.
But she knows she has to learn to think like a girl again, to act like a girl. It's strange; she knows she was one. She can remember, but she doesn't understand. Maybe lying to herself is a step in the right direction, even if it feels wrong. She picks up this piece in her mind and places it the part of the castle where her things are. Not alliance, but definitely hers. She doesn't feel secure enough about the lying to place it in its right place. She'll have to ask Kaylee, she resolves. Kaylee understands what being a girl means.
(When meaning eludes you, ask an expert. Get better, get stronger, survive.)
The River part of the castle is growing towers and taking over, but the alliance still lingers.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
Same, same, but different. That's right,
(isn't it?)
Firefly | River, Jayne (slight River/Jayne if you squint) | 839 words | PG | Set sometime after the movie.
She's found that most human things are impractical, actions and rules thought up as life goes along. She doesn't understand the lack of planning. Why didn't anyone make diagrams, lay out possible outcomes and calculate the risks? Love, death, friendship and life would all be easier then.
Written for uberniftacular for a gift-giving, beta-read by digitaldesigner. And here is a companion gif :)
It's different now, but still the same, the same, the same.
She floats through the ship, Serenity clinging to her feet. She can feel the ship underneath her, and with the ship comes feelings, thoughts and impulses; all the things that make her a home.
(River is the ship.)
No, that's not right, she's not the ship, she's on the ship; Serenity is a home. Her home. She turns the corner and Zoe washes over her and she's almost lost in the wave. Confusion, anger, hurt and over it all, the tinge of grief. River has to hold on to the railings to keep herself still.
(Just let it wash away.) She needs her thoughts to be hers now.
Running down the walkway, she comes to an abrupt halt. Everything is smoothing out and she can feel a slow steady beat washing over her. She looks in front of her and sees only light.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
Jayne is there. Solid. The weights go up, down, up, down. His thoughts are clear and his breathing is even. He's not a wave, he's not an ocean, he's a lake. She rocks gently and slows down, down, down. She breathes and remembers that she is a girl, a human girl and not a machine. Maybe not a perfect girl, but this is right (she is right), and maybe that's all that matters. Jayne is a lake and she's standing by the lakeside. The water is quiet. Not a ripple in sight and she wonders if there is fish in there. Maybe hidden mysteries in the water depths that she can explore. But that will have to wait; she has more important things to do.
(Right?)
She starts to build a castle in the sand by the lakeside. She builds up, up and hope that the walls don't come crashing down.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
"Whatcha doing, girl? Why are you staring at me? It's creeping me out." Jayne stopped his rhythm and made her lose her place.
"The ship is orange. Repetitive motion makes linear thought-processes possible."
"I thought you were better now? You know, not crazy." He does that arm movement near his head again, but she knows he doesn't mean it like he once did. He's changed as well. Once upon a time there was a statue, a hospital and a planet and the world turned. Different, different, but the same.
"She is. I am, better now. All my parts are mine, but they aren't all in the right place. It takes time."
"I guess that makes sense in a way. Your brother said that the gorram Miranda stuff would help you."
"I did the impossible, but it didn't make me mighty."
He nods in agreement, but doesn't say anything else and she's glad he doesn't make her explain. They both lapse into silence as he goes back to his weights.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
She goes back to her castle. She lays all the pieces out before her and fits her mind back together, Jayne's repetitive motions serving as a shield against the rest of the ship. The castle is taking form, growing before her eyes and the weights go
Up. Down. Up. Down.
Jayne-man. She likes that he's so uncomplicated. Some might say he's stupid, but River knows better. The insides match the outside; the wit is sharp, but the mind is slow. He says what he means and he doesn't move in circles. All lines are direct and it's an acceptable contrast.
With a ship full of thoughts and voices that lie (people don't always say what they mean, River has found, and she wonders why), he's linear. Jayne always says what he means, he doesn't lie because he doesn't need to: he doesn't care what people think. That's not true, River thinks, why is she lying to herself? That seems impractical. Maybe it's human? She's found that most human things are impractical, actions and rules thought up as life goes along. She doesn't understand the lack of planning. Why didn't anyone make diagrams, lay out possible outcomes and calculate the risks? Love, death, friendship and life would all be easier then.
But she knows she has to learn to think like a girl again, to act like a girl. It's strange; she knows she was one. She can remember, but she doesn't understand. Maybe lying to herself is a step in the right direction, even if it feels wrong. She picks up this piece in her mind and places it the part of the castle where her things are. Not alliance, but definitely hers. She doesn't feel secure enough about the lying to place it in its right place. She'll have to ask Kaylee, she resolves. Kaylee understands what being a girl means.
(When meaning eludes you, ask an expert. Get better, get stronger, survive.)
The River part of the castle is growing towers and taking over, but the alliance still lingers.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
Same, same, but different. That's right,
(isn't it?)