It's been a while since either of these faces have been seen in the Inn, but here they are. River sitting on top of a table, cross-legged, with a book of myths. Andromeda curled up in an armchair staring into the fire, with a sleeping baby held tight to her. Neither looks particularly adverse to company.

[OOC: Mun is currently moving and has no ( Read more... )

In the kitchen, there is a Svetlana. For the first time in a long time, she's truly happy. Her husband has returned to her. She's trying not to think about for how long this time, only that he is here now, in her arms, where he belongs. Maybe this time they can start over properly ( Read more... )

River walked out of the Inn this morning, back to the same mindset she had been when she entered -- disconnected, disjointed, close to the lowest point of sanity she can hit ( Read more... )

Andromeda usually isn't this happy to see the Inn -- she likes being home, with her family. But right now, a place away from them to think about things sounds like the most amazing place in the world. Which accounts for the huge sigh of relief as she settles herself into a large, comfy armchair. She wouldn't mind company, but her mind is in too ( Read more... )

At some point after recent events, River slipped out of the Inn, quiet and mostly unnoticed. She enters now, a glimpse of woods behind her as shuts the door, boots and legs muddy. More than her appearence, her expression gives away the difference between the River here now and the River who left a little while ago. She's detatched, less sane, more ( Read more... )

River is sitting on a table, legs danging over the edge, a large drum between her knees.
Steady as the beating drum
After trying and failing to get back to Serenity, to share the music with the ones that matter most, she's doing the next best thing -- sounding out a fitting song.
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child, a long, long way from home
( Read more... )

The sight of River swaying to her own beat is normal.

The sight of River sitting at the piano, playing something instrumental* is completely new. And she's good.

Feel free to listen, or to come say hello.

*Said intrumental is from River's time and world and probably won't be familiar to anyone not from there.

The door opens on a rather odd scene: Two humans, a dwarf, a troll, a rather tall skeleton, and a guitar, if a very primitive-looking one, apparently on the edge of a ravine of some sort. It's dusk, but not for much longer, from the looks of it.
It's also... oddly silent. Like some sort of background noise is missing.
this song is over; it's all ( Read more... )

Out back, River Tam is lying on her back on the ground, enjoying the weather. The last time Serenity was docked somewhere with snow, there wasn't much time to enjoy it; now she's making up for it.

And inside, Maureen Johnson settles herself into a comfortable chair. She hasn't wanted to see the Inn lately; it's been two months, almost three, but ( Read more... )

Now that the nightmares are gone and there's no rational reason to fear something will happen, River is dancing. Outside, in the grass, to no music, not that that seems to inhibit her. Perhaps it's still reassurance that the loss of control over her feet wasn't really her, or just a way to beat the trapped feeling she has right now, being trapped ( Read more... )