Places
Title: Places
Author: spurlunk
Characters: The Crew of Serenity
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. I mean, my writing, but nothing else is mine.
Summary: The different members of the crew in Mal's eyes, as well as their relation to specific locations on the ship.
Sometimes Mal thought that he would never be able to love another human being the way he loved this ship. When he rested his hand on the cool metal wall he felt a sense of belonging. He was home. If all went as planned (as if anything in Mal’s life ever went according to plan), he would grow old and die on this ship. He knew that the others didn’t feel the same way about Serenity. The only person who came close to understanding was Kaylee. She got it.
The engine room was Kaylee’s space. Giant whirring machines, hot and loud. In one corner was her brightly striped hammock and shelves of tools with a trim of colorful flowers she’d painted alongside. In anyone else, constant cheerfulness and a perpetually bright disposition would be incredibly annoying, the sickly sweetness actually cloying, but Kaylee could get away with all of it because she was just genuinely happy. Mal didn’t think Kaylee even knew how to lie, though she did know how to use her charm to get what she wanted.
Simon’s area was the infirmary, well-lit and sterile. The boy was an open book and a terrible actor. All of the medical instruments were organized in drawers, everything in its place. The room he shared with his sister was bare and devoid of any personal touches. Having come from a wealthy planet on a core planet, he didn’t seem to care much for material possessions. It was kind of hard to hate someone as selfless as Simon was (he could be downright irritating though, Mal thought), looking after his sister like that. He didn’t just believe in something, he acted on it too.
Wash was very particular about his chair. He said that it had been molded perfectly to his body by this point, and if anyone else sat there he would know. The plastic toy palm trees and colorful dinosaurs littered the control panel, a few littered on the floor, forgotten momentarily or pushed aside roughly when he had to actually pilot the ship. The controls were discolored from sweaty palms - they probably should have been replaced long ago. But Serenity will make do, like she always has (well except for that one time…).
Inara’s spirit infused her personal space more fully than anyone else on board. Her shuttle was covered in red and gold silk and satin, lavender and rosewater scents wafting on the air and lingering on her skin. The only crew members who come here are Mal and Kaylee, one by invitation and one not. The others do not dare enter, either because they are intimidated by the Companion’s glamorous aura or they wish to afford her that rare commodity, privacy. Mal disregards that notion completely; always implicitly remind her that she is renting space here. He thought that the only reason she stayed was because they both knew that their bickering went no further than the surface of their conversations.
River and Jayne are not attached to any particular area. Today they are in the cargo bay, Jayne moving crates aside one by one to make space for his weight equipment, which has been pushed up against the wall. He always has to do something. Jayne is not the kind of man who can sit still and just think; he must always keep busy. River watches him, dangling upside down off the metal walkway above, her long dark hair hanging down like a curtain. She doesn’t speak much, but when she does, it’s (purposefully?) cryptic and sparks a half-hearted string of insults from Jayne. “Gorram moon-brained girl spoutin’ nothin’ but fei-hwa…”
Book and Zoe also spend time in a number of different places. Right now they were in the kitchen. Zoe was cutting vegetables, efficient and methodical. Her every movement screams solider and her body will never forget it. The Shepherd worked the can opener and mixed the spices, radiating a sense of calm that enveloped the whole room. Neither spoke, but the atmosphere was friendly and inviting.
That was part of it, actually. There were tensions and there were conflicts, but generally the nine vastly different people all got along, and most of them genuinely liked each other. Mal remembered his childhood growing up with a mother and the ranch hands, his family not necessarily bonded by blood. That’s what he had here, on Serenity. A family that was as close and loving as any could ever be. He valued his crew more than anyone would ever know.
END
Author: spurlunk
Characters: The Crew of Serenity
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. I mean, my writing, but nothing else is mine.
Summary: The different members of the crew in Mal's eyes, as well as their relation to specific locations on the ship.
Sometimes Mal thought that he would never be able to love another human being the way he loved this ship. When he rested his hand on the cool metal wall he felt a sense of belonging. He was home. If all went as planned (as if anything in Mal’s life ever went according to plan), he would grow old and die on this ship. He knew that the others didn’t feel the same way about Serenity. The only person who came close to understanding was Kaylee. She got it.
The engine room was Kaylee’s space. Giant whirring machines, hot and loud. In one corner was her brightly striped hammock and shelves of tools with a trim of colorful flowers she’d painted alongside. In anyone else, constant cheerfulness and a perpetually bright disposition would be incredibly annoying, the sickly sweetness actually cloying, but Kaylee could get away with all of it because she was just genuinely happy. Mal didn’t think Kaylee even knew how to lie, though she did know how to use her charm to get what she wanted.
Simon’s area was the infirmary, well-lit and sterile. The boy was an open book and a terrible actor. All of the medical instruments were organized in drawers, everything in its place. The room he shared with his sister was bare and devoid of any personal touches. Having come from a wealthy planet on a core planet, he didn’t seem to care much for material possessions. It was kind of hard to hate someone as selfless as Simon was (he could be downright irritating though, Mal thought), looking after his sister like that. He didn’t just believe in something, he acted on it too.
Wash was very particular about his chair. He said that it had been molded perfectly to his body by this point, and if anyone else sat there he would know. The plastic toy palm trees and colorful dinosaurs littered the control panel, a few littered on the floor, forgotten momentarily or pushed aside roughly when he had to actually pilot the ship. The controls were discolored from sweaty palms - they probably should have been replaced long ago. But Serenity will make do, like she always has (well except for that one time…).
Inara’s spirit infused her personal space more fully than anyone else on board. Her shuttle was covered in red and gold silk and satin, lavender and rosewater scents wafting on the air and lingering on her skin. The only crew members who come here are Mal and Kaylee, one by invitation and one not. The others do not dare enter, either because they are intimidated by the Companion’s glamorous aura or they wish to afford her that rare commodity, privacy. Mal disregards that notion completely; always implicitly remind her that she is renting space here. He thought that the only reason she stayed was because they both knew that their bickering went no further than the surface of their conversations.
River and Jayne are not attached to any particular area. Today they are in the cargo bay, Jayne moving crates aside one by one to make space for his weight equipment, which has been pushed up against the wall. He always has to do something. Jayne is not the kind of man who can sit still and just think; he must always keep busy. River watches him, dangling upside down off the metal walkway above, her long dark hair hanging down like a curtain. She doesn’t speak much, but when she does, it’s (purposefully?) cryptic and sparks a half-hearted string of insults from Jayne. “Gorram moon-brained girl spoutin’ nothin’ but fei-hwa…”
Book and Zoe also spend time in a number of different places. Right now they were in the kitchen. Zoe was cutting vegetables, efficient and methodical. Her every movement screams solider and her body will never forget it. The Shepherd worked the can opener and mixed the spices, radiating a sense of calm that enveloped the whole room. Neither spoke, but the atmosphere was friendly and inviting.
That was part of it, actually. There were tensions and there were conflicts, but generally the nine vastly different people all got along, and most of them genuinely liked each other. Mal remembered his childhood growing up with a mother and the ranch hands, his family not necessarily bonded by blood. That’s what he had here, on Serenity. A family that was as close and loving as any could ever be. He valued his crew more than anyone would ever know.
END