Prompt:
Describe what your "happily ever after" would be like.
Happily ever after?
That is a thing for children's stories and I ain't nothing but a mean old man.
1.
The right thing to do was pluck the grass from her dark hair, kiss her lips, reign in his horse, and leave her by her daddy's fence posts. It most certainly wasn't to steal her away with him. It weren't to say he weren't going to let her go. It would have been to say he was going to let her go. He did. Eventually. But by then? They was both in more trouble then a whipping was going to set right. Nothing would but a right quick wedding and the two of them being set up in a cottage on his Momma's land since her Daddy was still looking to shoot him according to local rumor. Might be they were exaggerating. Might be not. Might not have mattered much to either of them by the time their first daughter was born. Didn't matter none at all by the time they had their son.
When war came round, the right thing to do was to go off and fight for what he believed in but by that point? With three little ones under foot and another on the way? Mal was well acquainted with not doing the right thing so he stayed on Shadow and turned the page, reading "Once upon a time...."
2.
"In a land far, far away?" Mal looked around at each of his men, gun resting on his knee. "We going to let some men, in some suits? Decide that for us? For our children? In some committee thousands upon thousands of miles from our own planet? No sir, not me."
Eyes looking over his men and women, gaze resting on Zoes face, red and blue in the changing light of Alliance and Browncoat fire that flared across their Valley as their angels sang their hallelujah. It was a damn shiny chorus. Even if it was making him go deaf.
"We take care of our own." Mal gave a tired, grateful smile. "Even if our gorram air support takes its own sweet time."
"Alliance said it was going to waltz through Serenity Valley and we choked them on those words. We've done the impossible and that makes us mighty..."
"Like thems in the fairy stories Sarge?"
"Yeah Bendis. We are so very pretty. Princes, we are. We are just too pretty for God to let us die. Huh? Look at that chiseled jaw."
The chorus of laughter was even louder than their cover fire.
3.
In the fairy stories, it is the princesses that got the fair skin, snow white, and them eyes, sky blue and crystal clear. Blood red lips. And those lips? When they is blood red? That is something of a metaphor. It ain't red in the manner of being red with blood.
But that would be getting ahead to the end of the story.
When they'd be asleep in their coffins. They'd be made of glass, not wood. Them coffins. They wouldn't give splinters. They'd get carried by dwarves, not the prettiest people on the boat. Then again, that might be biased commentary from the writers track not relevant to the tale.
Them princesses, they'd be sleeping the sleep of some grand enchantment. Not from byphodine, which is likely to cause nausea. Likely also to make you lose your lunch. Which is likely to make you wonder who is likely to eat lunch before faking ones death and getting oneself shipped clear across the 'verse? That just ain't no manner of smart.
In the fairy stories, you don't got to worry about smart.
In the black, where it's the prince with the lily white skin, white as snow, you got to concern yourself more with smart. Particularly when the sky blue eyes ain't so crystal clear being they is dark with being all corpsified as part of some grand scheme to get the prince shipped across the 'verse and away from his troubles, into the arms of his grease stained princess charming.
Suppose he shouldn't have waved a gun in her face though, not in front of her Captain, being as he is a right good shot and don't take kindly to that. No matter how much history he might have with the prince. No matter how much he might want them to have a happily ever after.
All the Prince has to do is drop the gun. Listened to the Captain. Trusted him to do right by them. He just wanted to do right by them. Then the prince wouldn't have had blood red lips.
And everyone would have lived happily ever after.
Might have beens? Might be's?
That ain't nothing but a waste of time.
I catch any of my crew woolgathering over this nonsense in need of a more productive use of their time? There is latrines needing to get scrubbed.
Now, ain't there whores to harass and people I got to be killing?
Gorram cortex distracting me.
Mal Reynolds,
Firefly
Happily ever after?
That is a thing for children's stories and I ain't nothing but a mean old man.
1.
The right thing to do was pluck the grass from her dark hair, kiss her lips, reign in his horse, and leave her by her daddy's fence posts. It most certainly wasn't to steal her away with him. It weren't to say he weren't going to let her go. It would have been to say he was going to let her go. He did. Eventually. But by then? They was both in more trouble then a whipping was going to set right. Nothing would but a right quick wedding and the two of them being set up in a cottage on his Momma's land since her Daddy was still looking to shoot him according to local rumor. Might be they were exaggerating. Might be not. Might not have mattered much to either of them by the time their first daughter was born. Didn't matter none at all by the time they had their son.
When war came round, the right thing to do was to go off and fight for what he believed in but by that point? With three little ones under foot and another on the way? Mal was well acquainted with not doing the right thing so he stayed on Shadow and turned the page, reading "Once upon a time...."
2.
"In a land far, far away?" Mal looked around at each of his men, gun resting on his knee. "We going to let some men, in some suits? Decide that for us? For our children? In some committee thousands upon thousands of miles from our own planet? No sir, not me."
Eyes looking over his men and women, gaze resting on Zoes face, red and blue in the changing light of Alliance and Browncoat fire that flared across their Valley as their angels sang their hallelujah. It was a damn shiny chorus. Even if it was making him go deaf.
"We take care of our own." Mal gave a tired, grateful smile. "Even if our gorram air support takes its own sweet time."
"Alliance said it was going to waltz through Serenity Valley and we choked them on those words. We've done the impossible and that makes us mighty..."
"Like thems in the fairy stories Sarge?"
"Yeah Bendis. We are so very pretty. Princes, we are. We are just too pretty for God to let us die. Huh? Look at that chiseled jaw."
The chorus of laughter was even louder than their cover fire.
3.
In the fairy stories, it is the princesses that got the fair skin, snow white, and them eyes, sky blue and crystal clear. Blood red lips. And those lips? When they is blood red? That is something of a metaphor. It ain't red in the manner of being red with blood.
But that would be getting ahead to the end of the story.
When they'd be asleep in their coffins. They'd be made of glass, not wood. Them coffins. They wouldn't give splinters. They'd get carried by dwarves, not the prettiest people on the boat. Then again, that might be biased commentary from the writers track not relevant to the tale.
Them princesses, they'd be sleeping the sleep of some grand enchantment. Not from byphodine, which is likely to cause nausea. Likely also to make you lose your lunch. Which is likely to make you wonder who is likely to eat lunch before faking ones death and getting oneself shipped clear across the 'verse? That just ain't no manner of smart.
In the fairy stories, you don't got to worry about smart.
In the black, where it's the prince with the lily white skin, white as snow, you got to concern yourself more with smart. Particularly when the sky blue eyes ain't so crystal clear being they is dark with being all corpsified as part of some grand scheme to get the prince shipped across the 'verse and away from his troubles, into the arms of his grease stained princess charming.
Suppose he shouldn't have waved a gun in her face though, not in front of her Captain, being as he is a right good shot and don't take kindly to that. No matter how much history he might have with the prince. No matter how much he might want them to have a happily ever after.
All the Prince has to do is drop the gun. Listened to the Captain. Trusted him to do right by them. He just wanted to do right by them. Then the prince wouldn't have had blood red lips.
And everyone would have lived happily ever after.
Might have beens? Might be's?
That ain't nothing but a waste of time.
I catch any of my crew woolgathering over this nonsense in need of a more productive use of their time? There is latrines needing to get scrubbed.
Now, ain't there whores to harass and people I got to be killing?
Gorram cortex distracting me.
Mal Reynolds,
Firefly