[jp] ausonius quote
He who does not know how to be silent will not know how to speak.
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NOTE: Takes place in the latter half of Serenity: Those Left Behind just after Book informs Mal that he's leaving.
He never did know how to keep his fool mouth shut…which was probably how he ended up standing in an empty mess, saying a whole lot of something to a whole lot of nothing. Ultimately, he had to agree that that was the whole problem with him and his like.
People with big mouths never did know when to open ‘em or keep ‘em shut.
And that left him with all he had to offer: a whole lot of nothing. It didn’t matter what he had to say or what he felt, because he’d waited too long and been too much the coward to break that lock and open that door to let her see what was inside him. It rankled something powerful to know that Inara Serra, a stuffy, arrogant, mei yong-duh Companion had managed what an entire army of Purple Bellies with guns a-blazing never had: she scared him stupid.
Well…maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. She wasn’t completely mei yong-duh, after all.
He could no longer say the same for himself, though, and he hated her for that. He blamed and hated her for the fact that her existence made him a worthless, useless blob that couldn’t do much more than grieve over his own stupidity. He hated her for robbing him of his dignity, his strength, and his voice. A man could only hold himself accountable for so much before he had to take a look at them that made his crew and dish out a little responsibility so he didn’t drown in it.
Inara was responsible for being what she was. Existing was her crime, being a walking talking bit of shiny like the trinkets in her shuttle, the kind of thing that a body could live without until it couldn’t the second it laid eyes on her. He hated her for making him want something like that, irrational and crazed…for a brief instant, he was one motionless, rock-solid ball of flesh and hatred that burned so hot and so black it made him just a little sick.
Sick and silent, and when he swallowed past the bile, uncaring. He didn’t care she was leaving, didn’t care Book was leaving…didn’t care about a hell of a lot beyond the ship under his feet and keeping her afloat.
He wouldn’t care, and without her around to keep poking at that lump of gos se that used to be his heart, he hoped it was going to be a mite easier.
Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 416
==========
NOTE: Takes place in the latter half of Serenity: Those Left Behind just after Book informs Mal that he's leaving.
He never did know how to keep his fool mouth shut…which was probably how he ended up standing in an empty mess, saying a whole lot of something to a whole lot of nothing. Ultimately, he had to agree that that was the whole problem with him and his like.
People with big mouths never did know when to open ‘em or keep ‘em shut.
And that left him with all he had to offer: a whole lot of nothing. It didn’t matter what he had to say or what he felt, because he’d waited too long and been too much the coward to break that lock and open that door to let her see what was inside him. It rankled something powerful to know that Inara Serra, a stuffy, arrogant, mei yong-duh Companion had managed what an entire army of Purple Bellies with guns a-blazing never had: she scared him stupid.
Well…maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. She wasn’t completely mei yong-duh, after all.
He could no longer say the same for himself, though, and he hated her for that. He blamed and hated her for the fact that her existence made him a worthless, useless blob that couldn’t do much more than grieve over his own stupidity. He hated her for robbing him of his dignity, his strength, and his voice. A man could only hold himself accountable for so much before he had to take a look at them that made his crew and dish out a little responsibility so he didn’t drown in it.
Inara was responsible for being what she was. Existing was her crime, being a walking talking bit of shiny like the trinkets in her shuttle, the kind of thing that a body could live without until it couldn’t the second it laid eyes on her. He hated her for making him want something like that, irrational and crazed…for a brief instant, he was one motionless, rock-solid ball of flesh and hatred that burned so hot and so black it made him just a little sick.
Sick and silent, and when he swallowed past the bile, uncaring. He didn’t care she was leaving, didn’t care Book was leaving…didn’t care about a hell of a lot beyond the ship under his feet and keeping her afloat.
He wouldn’t care, and without her around to keep poking at that lump of gos se that used to be his heart, he hoped it was going to be a mite easier.
Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 416