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Alas not with a person. I caved and ordered the Firefly DVDs last week. I finished watching them last night. If I were going to be cast in the show, I'd so be Kaylee. Of course, I much prefer Mal to Simon. And Wash and I don't like blonds as a general rule. How wrong is it of me that I can see the possibilities of a Jayne/River ship? Very, I know.
I like having my faith in Joss restored as well. After the end of Buffy and Angel, it was starting to wane. My love for them is still strong, but there were definite weaknesses in the storytelling. This also just reinforces my lack of desire to rewatch Season 7 of Buffy. I've loved Nathan Fillion for a long time, but I hated Caleb. Not one of Joss's better characters. Add the Mal love in and I may just have to start believing the show ended with Season 6. Or Season 5. Possible 3.
Leading to the one advantage in the cancellation of Firefly. It gets to remain a perfectly polished jewel. There is still a lot of story to be told, but I would not want this show to go through what Buffy did. Tight writing and a true gift for casting are Joss's greatest strengths I think.
On a personal note, I have a story to post. There is an original ficathon called Sensory Overload. Just an odd little character thing. Not betaed. All comments appreciated.
My story is
There was a definite disadvantage to living this far out, Rose thought as the lights went out for the third time that week. Normally, it wouldn't bother her, but as it was 10 o'clock at night and she still hadn't finished paying the bills, it did. The bitch of it was, she wasn't far enough out to need a generator.
Rose pushed the chair back and went to look for the candles. They wouldn't provide enough light for paperwork, but the light would suffice for a cup of tea and a bath. Fortunately, the stove and the water heater were gas powered. Unfortunately, the batteries in the radio were dead.
Left alone with nothing but her own thoughts was not her idea of a good thing. The thoughts weren't bad or depressing as a general rule. They tended to run in a circles and Rose much preferred linear. Linear was something you could build on. She had trouble holding on to circles. No beginning, no end, nothing to grab hold of.
Lighting only one of the candles she found, she made her way to the bathroom. Setting the candle on the sink, she sat on the edge of the tub and turned the taps on. The rush of water out of the pipes shattered the silence that had filled the air since the lights went out.
She adjusted the water to the temperature she liked – hot but bearable. She added the lavender bath salts she loved so much. Will had called it a foolish luxury, a waste, yet every year on her birthday, another jar would show up out of the blue. She added another handful just because she could.
As the tub filled, she quickly stripped off her clothes. She took her brush and ran it through her hair. It was getting too long again. She loved her hair, but once it got to a certain length, it shed like nobody's business. One last stroke and then it was time to turn off the taps.
She slid her left foot into the water, testing the temperature. It was a little hotter than she liked, but it would cool off far too soon for her liking. She sank into the water, wincing at the heat. She leaned back, letting the water and the darkness envelope her. She willed her mind to stillness, to be quiet, yet drifting where it would took her places she'd rather not go.
Images of Will, laughing, smiling. She thought probably the best mental picture she had was of him sleeping. Dark hair mussed from where he had burrowed into the pillow. Impossibly long dark eyelashes fanned out against his cheeks. His mouth relaxed, slightly parted, like he was waiting for a kiss that would never come. He always seemed to find a peace in sleep that he couldn't find while awake.
She grabbed the scrubby and squeezed out the bath gel. Standing up, she ran the scrubby over her body more roughly than was strictly necessary. It gave her something to focus on besides him.
She rinsed off and began washing her hair. If the water held its heat a little while longer, she just might go wild and condition her hair while she was at it. She shook her head as she smiled. Will had loved washing her hair for her and she loved him doing that for her. She loved a lot of things he did. She missed them. And him. Him most of all.
She took a deep breath and lowered her head beneath the water. Running her hands through her hair, she made sure to get all the shampoo out. Sadness had settled on her heart as heavily as the darkness that surrounded her. Tonight would not be a conditioning night after all.
She pulled the plug and got out of the tub. She grabbed Will's terry cloth robe off the hook on the back of the bathroom door. She pulled it tight around her and twisted her wet hair up in a spare towel.
Taking the candle, she made her way back to the kitchen. Filling the kettle, she thought of the first night the electricity had gone out. She and Will had only been in the house few days. A bath had been on the agenda that night too. And tea much later.
She reached for a small tin container at the very back of the cabinet. Another foolish luxury – lavender earl grey tea. She'd never told Will that the lavender reminded her of home. Her grandmother had the most wonderful garden. Flowers mostly, but it was dotted with terra cotta pots overflowing with herbs. The lavender was always kept close to the back door and the garden gate.
The kettle whistled and she filled her mug. Leaving the candle on the kitchen counter, she folded herself into the overstuffed chair next to the French doors. She'd never gotten around to putting curtains on them, so she had a clear view of the night sky. As much as she loved stargazing, she'd never bothered to put names to the constellations. Truth be told, she had the hardest time making them out. Will had delighted in teasing her about that. He could pick them out as easily as she could words on a page.
She sipped her tea. With Will gone, there was no need to stash her luxuries away, but it gave her a sense of normalcy. Comfort. She rubbed her face against the color of the robe. She liked to think she could still smell him on the fabric. She couldn't of course, but there you go.
The candle sputtered out just as she finished her tea. She knew when to take a hint. Setting the mug on the side table, she went around to every room making sure the lights were turned off. There weren't many things she disliked as much as being dead asleep and having every light in the house come on all at once.
That taken care of, she retired, still wearing his worn terry cloth robe which no longer smelled of him, except in her wildest dreams.
The title is It is Written in the Stars Above, which was part of the prompt and my senses to be used where
Sight : dark
Sound : quiet
Smell : lavendar
Touch : towelling
Taste : bitter
I like having my faith in Joss restored as well. After the end of Buffy and Angel, it was starting to wane. My love for them is still strong, but there were definite weaknesses in the storytelling. This also just reinforces my lack of desire to rewatch Season 7 of Buffy. I've loved Nathan Fillion for a long time, but I hated Caleb. Not one of Joss's better characters. Add the Mal love in and I may just have to start believing the show ended with Season 6. Or Season 5. Possible 3.
Leading to the one advantage in the cancellation of Firefly. It gets to remain a perfectly polished jewel. There is still a lot of story to be told, but I would not want this show to go through what Buffy did. Tight writing and a true gift for casting are Joss's greatest strengths I think.
On a personal note, I have a story to post. There is an original ficathon called Sensory Overload. Just an odd little character thing. Not betaed. All comments appreciated.
My story is
There was a definite disadvantage to living this far out, Rose thought as the lights went out for the third time that week. Normally, it wouldn't bother her, but as it was 10 o'clock at night and she still hadn't finished paying the bills, it did. The bitch of it was, she wasn't far enough out to need a generator.
Rose pushed the chair back and went to look for the candles. They wouldn't provide enough light for paperwork, but the light would suffice for a cup of tea and a bath. Fortunately, the stove and the water heater were gas powered. Unfortunately, the batteries in the radio were dead.
Left alone with nothing but her own thoughts was not her idea of a good thing. The thoughts weren't bad or depressing as a general rule. They tended to run in a circles and Rose much preferred linear. Linear was something you could build on. She had trouble holding on to circles. No beginning, no end, nothing to grab hold of.
Lighting only one of the candles she found, she made her way to the bathroom. Setting the candle on the sink, she sat on the edge of the tub and turned the taps on. The rush of water out of the pipes shattered the silence that had filled the air since the lights went out.
She adjusted the water to the temperature she liked – hot but bearable. She added the lavender bath salts she loved so much. Will had called it a foolish luxury, a waste, yet every year on her birthday, another jar would show up out of the blue. She added another handful just because she could.
As the tub filled, she quickly stripped off her clothes. She took her brush and ran it through her hair. It was getting too long again. She loved her hair, but once it got to a certain length, it shed like nobody's business. One last stroke and then it was time to turn off the taps.
She slid her left foot into the water, testing the temperature. It was a little hotter than she liked, but it would cool off far too soon for her liking. She sank into the water, wincing at the heat. She leaned back, letting the water and the darkness envelope her. She willed her mind to stillness, to be quiet, yet drifting where it would took her places she'd rather not go.
Images of Will, laughing, smiling. She thought probably the best mental picture she had was of him sleeping. Dark hair mussed from where he had burrowed into the pillow. Impossibly long dark eyelashes fanned out against his cheeks. His mouth relaxed, slightly parted, like he was waiting for a kiss that would never come. He always seemed to find a peace in sleep that he couldn't find while awake.
She grabbed the scrubby and squeezed out the bath gel. Standing up, she ran the scrubby over her body more roughly than was strictly necessary. It gave her something to focus on besides him.
She rinsed off and began washing her hair. If the water held its heat a little while longer, she just might go wild and condition her hair while she was at it. She shook her head as she smiled. Will had loved washing her hair for her and she loved him doing that for her. She loved a lot of things he did. She missed them. And him. Him most of all.
She took a deep breath and lowered her head beneath the water. Running her hands through her hair, she made sure to get all the shampoo out. Sadness had settled on her heart as heavily as the darkness that surrounded her. Tonight would not be a conditioning night after all.
She pulled the plug and got out of the tub. She grabbed Will's terry cloth robe off the hook on the back of the bathroom door. She pulled it tight around her and twisted her wet hair up in a spare towel.
Taking the candle, she made her way back to the kitchen. Filling the kettle, she thought of the first night the electricity had gone out. She and Will had only been in the house few days. A bath had been on the agenda that night too. And tea much later.
She reached for a small tin container at the very back of the cabinet. Another foolish luxury – lavender earl grey tea. She'd never told Will that the lavender reminded her of home. Her grandmother had the most wonderful garden. Flowers mostly, but it was dotted with terra cotta pots overflowing with herbs. The lavender was always kept close to the back door and the garden gate.
The kettle whistled and she filled her mug. Leaving the candle on the kitchen counter, she folded herself into the overstuffed chair next to the French doors. She'd never gotten around to putting curtains on them, so she had a clear view of the night sky. As much as she loved stargazing, she'd never bothered to put names to the constellations. Truth be told, she had the hardest time making them out. Will had delighted in teasing her about that. He could pick them out as easily as she could words on a page.
She sipped her tea. With Will gone, there was no need to stash her luxuries away, but it gave her a sense of normalcy. Comfort. She rubbed her face against the color of the robe. She liked to think she could still smell him on the fabric. She couldn't of course, but there you go.
The candle sputtered out just as she finished her tea. She knew when to take a hint. Setting the mug on the side table, she went around to every room making sure the lights were turned off. There weren't many things she disliked as much as being dead asleep and having every light in the house come on all at once.
That taken care of, she retired, still wearing his worn terry cloth robe which no longer smelled of him, except in her wildest dreams.
The title is It is Written in the Stars Above, which was part of the prompt and my senses to be used where
Sight : dark
Sound : quiet
Smell : lavendar
Touch : towelling
Taste : bitter
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And I didn't notice any jarring errors in grammar or anything of that sort, and there weren't any large interruptions in the flow of the piece at all. Kudos to you for doing the challenge and finishing it! ^^
-Olram
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Evocative ...
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My favorite parts were definately how she kept wearing Will's robe and pretending she could almost smell him in it. Hearbreaking.
I'd definately love to read more if you ever do decide to explore it more, I'm very curious to know how Will passed away (I get the distinct feeling that he is dead, and not just randomly gone after breaking up with her or something).
BTW, the kitty in your icon is way too cute :)
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Re: Evocative ...
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Thanks for the comment on the kitty. She was the kitty in my office, but she's in kitty heaven now. She was 23 years old. And she was the grumpiest kitty ever, but sweet if she liked you. And she only liked people. She wasn't crazy about other cats.
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How many days til the movie comes out? :-)
Thanks for the comment on the story as well.
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I'm really picky about sentence structure, so to me, the flow feels a little broken up here and there. On the other hand, the starkness of it kinda works with the heavy sense of mourning(whether it be for a dead lover or the end of a relationship).
I really liked it, though. Haven't said that yet. It's very simple and unassuming, in a good way. It doesn't shove her grief at the reader, but rather provides an elegant, quiet glimpse of her life after Will.
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I'm glad you liked it.