The Seven Sins...
For a challenge at tv_universe: fic on the theme of the Seven Deadly Sins. I like the idea that the sins can also be strengths. :)
The Seven Sins of Serenity
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall. -William Shakespeare
The Operative: Do you know what your sin is, Mal?
Malcolm Reynolds: Ah, hell ... I'm a fan of all seven.
Pride (283 words)
It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels. -Saint Augustine
Simon’s parents had that quotation on a plaque above the mantel. Simon always found it surprising-they had not been raised in any religion, but he supposed it was more out of a passion for ancient history that the plaque found pride of place. Certainly there was nothing in the sentiment that could be said to have been embraced by the Tams. Pride was at the forefront of their familial creed: pride in their position in society, earned or not (they believed yes, Simon felt otherwise); pride in their fine home and belongings; pride in their brilliant children, as long as they were successful and biddable; pride in their spot in history. Humility, however angelic, just didn’t seem to come into it.
But, despite his scorn, Simon had to admit that pride was also his most deadly sin. It drove him to be the best in his class, at the MedAcademy, in the work. Even his love for his little sister was driven, in part, by his pride in her brilliance, her boundless, effortless ability. Well, if the old adage was true, about pride going before a fall, for sure this was the fall-brought down to the most humble of circumstances by fate or some other malevolent force. And certainly this form of humility did not feel particularly angelic.
And yet. He looked across the bunk at his sister, so damaged, and felt an upswelling again of emotion. As he watched her, drawing carefully and with great concentration what appeared to be a portrait of Kaylee, he realized that pride could be another name for love.
Envy (215 words)
Kaylee was, in essence, a happy person. Everyone could see it, and it wasn’t a front, it went through and through. But sometimes there was a little scribble-scrabble of bad feeling that would come over her, like a flush, when she saw something that she didn’t, or couldn’t have. Like a pretty dress in a shop window, or Inara’s glowing skin, or Zoe and Wash’s love for each other. Jayne’s lack of fear. The Cap’s clarity of purpose. Book’s wisdom; Simon’s smarts and handsomeness. And even poor River, messed-up as she was, Kaylee envied her sometimes that she had Simon’s unwavering devotion.
When she got these feelings, hard upon ‘em would come her mama’s voice: “Don’t go wishing for stuff that’s not yours, little girl. Enough to manage what you got.” She’d remember herself digging her toe in the dirt, saying “Yes, mama,” but stealing a peek at the wished-for item, most usually a ship rising up above the dusty surface and into the clouds.
And see? See where her wanting had got her? On a ship, Chief Engineer, with a fine crew of friends she could look up to and admire and maybe learn from. And a fluffy pink dress hanging over her bed. So hey, maybe envy wasn’t so bad after all.
Gluttony (225 words)
River stared into her bowl-scraped clean-and, straightening, fixed each of the others around the table with a stern glare. Holding up her spoon, she proclaimed, “I…am a sinner!” Her tablemates looked alarmed. There had already been a few raised eyebrows, nudging, and notice taken of the vigor with which the girl had attacked her food-unusual for her, who usually had to be wheedled and bribed by Simon into eating. Of course, they’d all enjoyed this meal, provided by a village of grateful farmers, real fruit and vegetables and meat stew.
Jayne, who alone hadn’t noticed anything different about River, dedicated as he’d been to his own plate, snickered. “Whachu mean 'sinner', Little Crazy?” he asked, sitting back with a satisfied belch.
“Gluttony,” River intoned. Her eyes glowed suddenly as she scrabbled in her pocket and drew out a tattered scrap of printed paper. “Proverbs 23:2-‘And put a knife to your throat if you are given to appetite.’ ” The others froze in their seats; then, as the girl lunged for the stack of cutlery in the middle of the table, Simon, Mal and Zoe lurched toward her, and Jayne’s hand flew to his boot. River was quickest, though, and with a peal of laughter she snatched a knife, plunged in into a potato, and called out: “And I want some more!”
Lust (214 words)
Inara had a secret. It was one she’d had since she was a girl, about to become a young woman, when she first came to recognize her weakness, and set about covering it up until she could turn it into a strength. She kept this secret because it would have been considered a liability in her chosen profession.
Bound by breeding and beauty to make her way as a Companion, she went through the years of training, skill-building, and emotional and psychological analysis necessary to play a role that most would not be able to, and yet with all the scrutiny, she felt sure her secret had never been divined, save for a few close calls during the practicum portion of the schooling.
Inara’s secret was that she liked sex. Loved it, even. Sexual pleasure for her was not just a commodity, or an offering, that she sold or gave to the world. It was an internal fire that smoldered, that warmed her, that could have consumed her had she not learned all the ways to feed it, and bank it, and control it as needed. Certainly, not all of her professional encounters stirred her, but most did, which put her in the enviable position of enjoying her job in all of its aspects.
Anger (195 words)
Mal had been an easy-going child. Growing up was hard, at times, but his natural love of people, and charm, helped smooth out the rough edges, and he was smart and sure enough to be able to see the good in every situation. Even in the rebellion, he was driven by a secure belief that right would prevail, and it was in this security that his leadership blossomed, as others were drawn to this confident energy.
But the end of the war had burned through his happy-go-lucky spirit, and left behind a burnt skeleton of smoldering rage. This became a habitual, unfocused anger, that found some relief in the life of near-crime they’d undertaken-plenty of opportunity to let the anger slide into violence, or protectiveness, or even petty blather with the miscreants who were often his business associates.
But now, as he faced The Operative in the soaring space of Mr. Universe’s network, everything came into focus. Righteous anger. And it felt good.
Greed (186 words)
Jayne could never understand why greed had a bad name. What the ruttin’ hell was wrong with wanting more than you had, for yourself and your family? What would happen to the worlds if people didn’t want more, didn’t push forward. Hell, they’d all been stuck as frozen-out bones on Earth-That-Was, giving up. Never mind that it was likely someone’s greed that led to Earth’s demise. It was the way of men, right? Couldn’t be stopped. Gotta just be sure you’re the one getting ahead of everyone else. Get what you can, and get out, and get what you can outta wherever it is you land next. Repeat. That’s life, then you die. Nothing more’n that.
Still, like anything else a man was born to do, like eating, drinking, brawling, ruttin’ - too much of anything good could turn bad on a body. And sure, on Ariel, that greed almost got him dead more’n once, and maybe still could. (Just thinkin’ of Lil Crazy and her killer brain gave him night sweats.)
Well, these apples should keep ‘em sweet. Nothin’ wrong with being greedy about apples.
Sloth (244 words)
“Oh I love to live so pleasantly, live this life of luxury, lazing on a sunny afternoooooon,” crooned Wash as he grinned down at his wife, buried in pillows and blankets.
“Oh hush, you, you’re enjoying it too. And where did you learn that song? Your lovely home planet where all was nice, and sunny, and lazy?” Zoe squinted up at Wash, as challengingly as she could given that she felt boneless and absolutely indolent.
“My lady, you do me a disservice,” protested Wash, as he dropped back to the bed and wrapped a hand around her hip-gods, he loved her hips. “We were a simple, hard-working family in an industrious society. And that was a song sung by my papa, passed down by generation to generation of Washburne warblers.” Zoe turned to him and threw him a casual elbow to the ribs. “Honey. You don’t know hard-working ‘less you were raised on board a cargo ship, flying and fighting for your livelihood.” She attempted a glare that melted into a smile as she saw his shock of tousled hair and the lovebites on his freckled skin.
“Ah, not much fight left in my lady, is there, hmmm?” Wash twinkled up at her. Zoe canted herself over til she was poised above him on all fours. “You wanna fight, big boy?” she purred. “I’ll show you some fight.” Wash let out a bark of surprised laughter as she zoomed in for a kiss.
The Seven Sins of Serenity
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall. -William Shakespeare
The Operative: Do you know what your sin is, Mal?
Malcolm Reynolds: Ah, hell ... I'm a fan of all seven.
Pride (283 words)
It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels. -Saint Augustine
Simon’s parents had that quotation on a plaque above the mantel. Simon always found it surprising-they had not been raised in any religion, but he supposed it was more out of a passion for ancient history that the plaque found pride of place. Certainly there was nothing in the sentiment that could be said to have been embraced by the Tams. Pride was at the forefront of their familial creed: pride in their position in society, earned or not (they believed yes, Simon felt otherwise); pride in their fine home and belongings; pride in their brilliant children, as long as they were successful and biddable; pride in their spot in history. Humility, however angelic, just didn’t seem to come into it.
But, despite his scorn, Simon had to admit that pride was also his most deadly sin. It drove him to be the best in his class, at the MedAcademy, in the work. Even his love for his little sister was driven, in part, by his pride in her brilliance, her boundless, effortless ability. Well, if the old adage was true, about pride going before a fall, for sure this was the fall-brought down to the most humble of circumstances by fate or some other malevolent force. And certainly this form of humility did not feel particularly angelic.
And yet. He looked across the bunk at his sister, so damaged, and felt an upswelling again of emotion. As he watched her, drawing carefully and with great concentration what appeared to be a portrait of Kaylee, he realized that pride could be another name for love.
Envy (215 words)
Kaylee was, in essence, a happy person. Everyone could see it, and it wasn’t a front, it went through and through. But sometimes there was a little scribble-scrabble of bad feeling that would come over her, like a flush, when she saw something that she didn’t, or couldn’t have. Like a pretty dress in a shop window, or Inara’s glowing skin, or Zoe and Wash’s love for each other. Jayne’s lack of fear. The Cap’s clarity of purpose. Book’s wisdom; Simon’s smarts and handsomeness. And even poor River, messed-up as she was, Kaylee envied her sometimes that she had Simon’s unwavering devotion.
When she got these feelings, hard upon ‘em would come her mama’s voice: “Don’t go wishing for stuff that’s not yours, little girl. Enough to manage what you got.” She’d remember herself digging her toe in the dirt, saying “Yes, mama,” but stealing a peek at the wished-for item, most usually a ship rising up above the dusty surface and into the clouds.
And see? See where her wanting had got her? On a ship, Chief Engineer, with a fine crew of friends she could look up to and admire and maybe learn from. And a fluffy pink dress hanging over her bed. So hey, maybe envy wasn’t so bad after all.
Gluttony (225 words)
River stared into her bowl-scraped clean-and, straightening, fixed each of the others around the table with a stern glare. Holding up her spoon, she proclaimed, “I…am a sinner!” Her tablemates looked alarmed. There had already been a few raised eyebrows, nudging, and notice taken of the vigor with which the girl had attacked her food-unusual for her, who usually had to be wheedled and bribed by Simon into eating. Of course, they’d all enjoyed this meal, provided by a village of grateful farmers, real fruit and vegetables and meat stew.
Jayne, who alone hadn’t noticed anything different about River, dedicated as he’d been to his own plate, snickered. “Whachu mean 'sinner', Little Crazy?” he asked, sitting back with a satisfied belch.
“Gluttony,” River intoned. Her eyes glowed suddenly as she scrabbled in her pocket and drew out a tattered scrap of printed paper. “Proverbs 23:2-‘And put a knife to your throat if you are given to appetite.’ ” The others froze in their seats; then, as the girl lunged for the stack of cutlery in the middle of the table, Simon, Mal and Zoe lurched toward her, and Jayne’s hand flew to his boot. River was quickest, though, and with a peal of laughter she snatched a knife, plunged in into a potato, and called out: “And I want some more!”
Lust (214 words)
Inara had a secret. It was one she’d had since she was a girl, about to become a young woman, when she first came to recognize her weakness, and set about covering it up until she could turn it into a strength. She kept this secret because it would have been considered a liability in her chosen profession.
Bound by breeding and beauty to make her way as a Companion, she went through the years of training, skill-building, and emotional and psychological analysis necessary to play a role that most would not be able to, and yet with all the scrutiny, she felt sure her secret had never been divined, save for a few close calls during the practicum portion of the schooling.
Inara’s secret was that she liked sex. Loved it, even. Sexual pleasure for her was not just a commodity, or an offering, that she sold or gave to the world. It was an internal fire that smoldered, that warmed her, that could have consumed her had she not learned all the ways to feed it, and bank it, and control it as needed. Certainly, not all of her professional encounters stirred her, but most did, which put her in the enviable position of enjoying her job in all of its aspects.
Anger (195 words)
Mal had been an easy-going child. Growing up was hard, at times, but his natural love of people, and charm, helped smooth out the rough edges, and he was smart and sure enough to be able to see the good in every situation. Even in the rebellion, he was driven by a secure belief that right would prevail, and it was in this security that his leadership blossomed, as others were drawn to this confident energy.
But the end of the war had burned through his happy-go-lucky spirit, and left behind a burnt skeleton of smoldering rage. This became a habitual, unfocused anger, that found some relief in the life of near-crime they’d undertaken-plenty of opportunity to let the anger slide into violence, or protectiveness, or even petty blather with the miscreants who were often his business associates.
But now, as he faced The Operative in the soaring space of Mr. Universe’s network, everything came into focus. Righteous anger. And it felt good.
Greed (186 words)
Jayne could never understand why greed had a bad name. What the ruttin’ hell was wrong with wanting more than you had, for yourself and your family? What would happen to the worlds if people didn’t want more, didn’t push forward. Hell, they’d all been stuck as frozen-out bones on Earth-That-Was, giving up. Never mind that it was likely someone’s greed that led to Earth’s demise. It was the way of men, right? Couldn’t be stopped. Gotta just be sure you’re the one getting ahead of everyone else. Get what you can, and get out, and get what you can outta wherever it is you land next. Repeat. That’s life, then you die. Nothing more’n that.
Still, like anything else a man was born to do, like eating, drinking, brawling, ruttin’ - too much of anything good could turn bad on a body. And sure, on Ariel, that greed almost got him dead more’n once, and maybe still could. (Just thinkin’ of Lil Crazy and her killer brain gave him night sweats.)
Well, these apples should keep ‘em sweet. Nothin’ wrong with being greedy about apples.
Sloth (244 words)
“Oh I love to live so pleasantly, live this life of luxury, lazing on a sunny afternoooooon,” crooned Wash as he grinned down at his wife, buried in pillows and blankets.
“Oh hush, you, you’re enjoying it too. And where did you learn that song? Your lovely home planet where all was nice, and sunny, and lazy?” Zoe squinted up at Wash, as challengingly as she could given that she felt boneless and absolutely indolent.
“My lady, you do me a disservice,” protested Wash, as he dropped back to the bed and wrapped a hand around her hip-gods, he loved her hips. “We were a simple, hard-working family in an industrious society. And that was a song sung by my papa, passed down by generation to generation of Washburne warblers.” Zoe turned to him and threw him a casual elbow to the ribs. “Honey. You don’t know hard-working ‘less you were raised on board a cargo ship, flying and fighting for your livelihood.” She attempted a glare that melted into a smile as she saw his shock of tousled hair and the lovebites on his freckled skin.
“Ah, not much fight left in my lady, is there, hmmm?” Wash twinkled up at her. Zoe canted herself over til she was poised above him on all fours. “You wanna fight, big boy?” she purred. “I’ll show you some fight.” Wash let out a bark of surprised laughter as she zoomed in for a kiss.