Lithosphere, River-centric gen, G
Title: Lithosphere
Author: Kate Shelby
Summary: Her particle bonds as sheets of flesh dig into their story. Let me bond with you, each of her particles tell each one of the body’s.
Rating: G
Characters: River, Simon, Kaylee and Jayne briefly. Mostly River and a sink.
Spoilers/Timeline: During the series. Or not. Really it works anywhere.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I was just trying to remember my Geology notes for my next test.
Author's Note: This is the first time I've tried writing from River's POV. Feedback is love.
She turns her face into the particles straining back and forth to escape the body. The particles tell her their story, they took us from our home, their voices say as one strong, proud entity but still one to be crushed by one whose bonds are stronger. Her particle bonds as sheets of flesh dig into their story. Let me bond with you, each of her particles tell each one of the body’s. She feels the hardest rocks give way to her new particles for millennia’s worth of time from Earth That Was to Earth That Is No More to the hundreds of worlds and worlds to come. Molten destruction. Her particles feel the joy of rushing onto new surface, new playground, and new gift. Salt, salt which tries to heal the particles of the body sequestered away in her own, burns the blood vessels. I’m sorry, little voices like tears. A tiny precipice and then escape.
“River!” We know him he fixes.
“They want you to heal them, Simon.”
“Your crazy sister is wasting all our water!”
“Your feet are wet,” gentle Simon ripping the body’s particles from her that haven’t hidden far enough yet in the bonds of her flesh-blanket. We don’t have a place for you, yet. And then Simon pulls healing not enough, some of the body rushes to the place they’ve made home, even that which joined her flesh begins to rejoin, with their breath and their sneezes like clouds under the sky.
“Serenity has recyclers,” Kaylee’s pride says.
There’s connective sheets forming towels over her feet and the floor and the body’s blood and then the replacement lithosphere.
There’s more room now, with the replacement lithosphere’s channel hidden in the continental collision mountain.
“River,” he says. Are you there?
“Not river,” she sighs. More body escaping hers. “Oceans. Trenches and magma and spreading zones. Rivers like veins cutting connecting so many hearts.” Surprisingly lucid for just a moment, “They have faith in you.”
What she thinks, lucidly, happens more often than it doesn’t, he doesn’t understand. He will, though. She believes in him more than the body.
“It’s time to sleep, now.” He’s more tired than she is, always so worried, so she lets the foreign body flow into her hearts.
Author: Kate Shelby
Summary: Her particle bonds as sheets of flesh dig into their story. Let me bond with you, each of her particles tell each one of the body’s.
Rating: G
Characters: River, Simon, Kaylee and Jayne briefly. Mostly River and a sink.
Spoilers/Timeline: During the series. Or not. Really it works anywhere.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I was just trying to remember my Geology notes for my next test.
Author's Note: This is the first time I've tried writing from River's POV. Feedback is love.
She turns her face into the particles straining back and forth to escape the body. The particles tell her their story, they took us from our home, their voices say as one strong, proud entity but still one to be crushed by one whose bonds are stronger. Her particle bonds as sheets of flesh dig into their story. Let me bond with you, each of her particles tell each one of the body’s. She feels the hardest rocks give way to her new particles for millennia’s worth of time from Earth That Was to Earth That Is No More to the hundreds of worlds and worlds to come. Molten destruction. Her particles feel the joy of rushing onto new surface, new playground, and new gift. Salt, salt which tries to heal the particles of the body sequestered away in her own, burns the blood vessels. I’m sorry, little voices like tears. A tiny precipice and then escape.
“River!” We know him he fixes.
“They want you to heal them, Simon.”
“Your crazy sister is wasting all our water!”
“Your feet are wet,” gentle Simon ripping the body’s particles from her that haven’t hidden far enough yet in the bonds of her flesh-blanket. We don’t have a place for you, yet. And then Simon pulls healing not enough, some of the body rushes to the place they’ve made home, even that which joined her flesh begins to rejoin, with their breath and their sneezes like clouds under the sky.
“Serenity has recyclers,” Kaylee’s pride says.
There’s connective sheets forming towels over her feet and the floor and the body’s blood and then the replacement lithosphere.
There’s more room now, with the replacement lithosphere’s channel hidden in the continental collision mountain.
“River,” he says. Are you there?
“Not river,” she sighs. More body escaping hers. “Oceans. Trenches and magma and spreading zones. Rivers like veins cutting connecting so many hearts.” Surprisingly lucid for just a moment, “They have faith in you.”
What she thinks, lucidly, happens more often than it doesn’t, he doesn’t understand. He will, though. She believes in him more than the body.
“It’s time to sleep, now.” He’s more tired than she is, always so worried, so she lets the foreign body flow into her hearts.