ferocious mope

Beyond Hypothermia

2008-08-28T13:21:04Z

Title: Beyond Hypothermia
Disclaimer: Joss is Boss, Not I.
Rated: PG-13 to R
Summary: So this is a bit of a stretch. An alternate universe where Simon is the moonbeam, River is top three percent, and siblings Inara and Kaylee Serra are whores begging for passage.
Pairings: MalxInara, KayleexSimon, JaynexRiver

A string of vile, sadistic words sounded from under her breath. Words Inara Serra thought most certainly would have sent their mother spinning in her grave by now, had she not been cremated. Cremated and adorned on the nearest mantelpiece, somehow managing to look as decorous and haughty in death as she had in living.

“Nandi, really, do try and be civil about this,” absently Inara traced her hand over the urn’s carefully etched design. Imprints of floral décor and emerald insignia lined at her fingertips. So beautiful and well seamed, it was almost befitting that the only piece beheld of their mother; the only striking quality beside her once gorgeous frame was that of her own cindered residue, and the case it settled in.

“I understand you’re upset, and believe me I sympathize but it’s no call for such childish behavior,” as elegant fabrics pelted against marbled floorings, the possessive grip at her shoulder tightened considerably.

Saffron Oher befell upon them with a sense of pristine eloquence. Her eyes bore through Inara’s delicate form in dissecting obscurity. With wavering hesitance, Inara’s hand slipped from the urn, as Saffron continued in seething aggravation. “Honestly, if you would a take moments consideration on the matter,” indignantly, with a relinquished sigh, her lofty tone pressed further.

“Your ties are blinding you from the truth,” Saffron said sullenly. “You’re only seeing the bad in what could potentially be a wonderful opportunity all because of some illusionary bond of sisterhood,” Nandi felted Inara’s shawl, as if by sheer will alone the gesture would somehow keep her safe.

With her brow raised, Saffron pressed further. “Your mother was a pristine legacy to the house, Nandi, and Atherton is one of Peresphone’s most affluent noblemen,” the eldest Serra’s subconscious yearning for her sister turned her grip into a desperate clinging. “It’s only practical to think of the prospects she could attract,” Saffron continued. “The clientele that would Atherton would no doubt turn our way if—”

“I won’t let them have her!” at her sister’s screaming declaration, Inara felt a pair of tiny hands straddle her calves, tugging at the silken material of her dress in pleading discontent. Inara swooped downward in subconscious deference, delicately lifting the girl in her arms

“She’s not of proper age,” Nandi explained, “and Guild law forbids coercion of any kind.” Inara trussed her fingers through the little one’s wisped, chocolate tresses in hopeless efforts to sooth her cries as Nandi voiced her discretions. She had never been one to withstand conflict, however as Inara’s hand ran soothing circles across her back, it only made matters worse. Soon the weeping child was in hysterics.

“Shh, bao bei, it’s alright,” Inara pressed trembling lips to the child’s pallid temple. “I won’t leave you, I promise,” she gently swayed her in her arms. Cradling her with gentle, coddling whispers, the child soon buried her face in the crook of Inara’s neck, sniffling softly. “That’s my girl.”

In feigning empathy, Saffron’s once indignant voice turned solace. “Oh come now, little one,” kneeling forward Saffron held out an elongated nail, tucking a crescent lock behind the sniffling toddler’s reddened ear. “Crying is rather pointless now, don’t you think?” she added with coy expression; her eyes fleeting towards Nandi while she spoke.

“And quite the contrary, my dear friend,” Saffron replied, haughtily. “I’m sure you will find that people frequent turn a blind eye at such tempting junctures.”

At her words, Nandi felt pained to agree with her. “Saffron, please,” in the most delicate of venom she wanted to cry for mercy, her eyes welling with a brooking stream that begged its leeway as she fought tears. “Haven’t you toyed enough with my friendship?”

“Must you really bring my sisters into this quarrel?” Saffron gave a jest rolling of her eyes.

“Why you imply such driveling annotations, Nandi, is beyond me,” a glance at the quieted girl and Saffron continued wryly. “I mean, despite your naïve beliefs that the galaxy worships over your every whim, I assure you, I haven’t an inkling of jealousy towards you.” she huffed exasperatingly. The esteemed, malicious companion purposely drifted the topic of conversation elsewhere in persuading efforts of closure.

“Now, if we’ve come upon agreement, here,” Saffron paused, waiting for the gesturing implication from the others who stood in silent patience at the entry of the room. She was confidant, composed. Saffron was certain she would have her way on this. “Inara Serra will accompany Atherton Wing as her first, and last client as his lawful companion—”

“Why are you doing this, Saffron? We’ve only just lost our mother, and now you put this evil upon us,” Nandi’s glowering response earned a faltering whimper from the cradled child.

Saffron faltered for a moment but inevitably she smiled. “Nandi, it is not my intention to hurt you, or your family. This is simply for the benefit of our house.”

With a wayward glance, the child’s tears grew stronger. Nandi immediately veered her attention towards her sibling.

“Inara, she shouldn’t be out so late an hour,” her expression was serious for a moment, almost demanding as she fiddled carelessly with Inara’s lush shawl. “Neither should you, I want the two of you in bed,” a hurried order, “and don’t have me tell you twice…”

“No, Nandi, please!” she sent her sister an authoritive glance as she argued, but lessened it considerably on seeing her pained expression.

“Inara, do as I say.”

“Don’t make me go, Nandi!” Inara pleaded. Her expression indifferent except for the faint trace of tears pressed at her wet cheeks. “Promise; promise they won’t take me,” swallowing a straining sob, her words were muffled. “You won't let them take me, Nandi. Say it!”

Nandi Serra could lie to hundreds with a simple bat of her lashes, but truth be told, she could never begin lie to her sister. It’s not that she wouldn’t; if the occasion called for it Nandi most certainly would, but the fact of the matter was, the act was quite literally impossible for her. She truly couldn’t lie to Inara; not even if she wanted to and with a shaken exhale, Nandi brushed her thumb against wet tears.

“Nara, listen to me,” when she refused to meet her eyes, Nandi forced the action with her thumb. “Have I not always looked after you?” gentle she held her face. “Both of you,” she added softly.

When her sister didn’t answer, Nandi pressed further. “I want an answer.” Inara opened her mouth to answer, but a sob filled the action as she struggled. Nodding she clamped her eyes, tears pouring.

With a strained smile, Nandi proceeded. “Meimei I would die before I let anything happen to either of you,” with a low sigh, she braced Inara’s shoulder, her free hand resting on the child’s sleeping form.

“Oh my sweet, sweet Kaylee, I’m beginning to think you bathe in grime, tian shin.” Inara managed a shaking smile at her words, but she couldn’t shake the feeling.

This was the last time they would ever see one another…

"Nandi..." she started.

“Now you be sure to bathe her, and wash that grime off her face before bed, dong ma?" at her stern glance, Inara gave another nod and Nandi bent forward to kiss Inara’s cheek. “Thank you," starting her towards the exit, she gave her arm a final squeeze.

“I love you, Inara,” as Inara returned her words, Nandi gave an indulging glance to the bundled little Kaylee.

“And I love you too, xiao meimei.” With another kiss, she waited until Inara had fleeted for their rooms, before turning gravely towards Saffron.

“Atherton will have me instead,” she said slowly. “Seeing as how you’re all breaking every known law to do this, I implore this right.” Quirking her brow, Saffron fought a smile.

“You do understand that once you're betrothed you are to never return to our sanction, for any reason.” Nandi silently agree to which Saffron smiled, feigning empathy.

“You’re doing a wonderful thing for our kind, Nandi. Business will prosper because of your doings,” with a pause, she clasped her free a hand atop of Nandi’s, “I’ll look after your sisters, I swear to you.” Looking towards the other surrounding companions, Saffron gave a low bow which Nandi returned but with a more lethargic motion. “Do take care of yourself, Nand…” and it was settled.

Pretty Girls Make Graves

2008-08-28T12:41:22Z

Title: Pretty Girls Make Graves (Chapter One)

Disclaimer: Joss is Boss, not I.

Rated: M to NC-17

Summary: During a routine cargo shipment something goes terribly wrong. Serenity’s rather ill-fated crew finds themselves amidst Reaver territory and little Kaylee falls victim to their siege. (WARNING: Mentions of rape, physical torture, human slavery, and mild cannibalism occurs throughout the story. Read with caution)

Pairings: InaraxMal, RiverxJayne.

"Ai ya tian a<merciless hell>!” was Malcolm Reynolds shouting proclamation; his jaw clenched, muscles rigid in fuming undertones as he stood, swatting rather aggressively at a set of showy, flushed draperies aligning the shuttle.

Her shuttle of course, and he was vaguely aware of how insane the gesture may have seemed, so with a cautious glance the captain covertly crossed his arms, feigning normalcy with a gruff clearing of his throat.

Standing in slight trepidation, he waited, hoping the act had remained unseen. However, no sooner had he entered the shuttle’s door did the sounds of a sweet honey-toned murmur, velvety as it was rasping catch his ears. “Honestly, Malcolm, if you wanted to redecorate, there is such a thing as proper etiquette…” buried beneath quilted layers of soft, elegant fabrics the esteemed, scowling, Inara Serra lay sighing at his words.

“Do you realize what time it is?” her voice was lathered in sleep; her chocolate coated eyes fluttering heavily as she slowly pushed herself upright.

Facing him tiredly, Inara fought to roll her eyes. “Well?” she pressed, and with a sigh, much like her own, Mal pushed his hands awkwardly through his coat pockets.

With a curt shrug, he shuffled quietly towards the mattress. “Time don’t matter much out in the black,” in scoffing indignation, Inara stifled a laugh. Mal conceded her gesture with a brusque smirk. “Look, we’re set to port Lilac here directly,” he informed in casual indifference.

“Figured you ought’a see to little Kaylee before we touched surface” he exclaimed, averting his gaze from her more then exposed skin; bringing his focus towards scented candles and something feminine or the other as she sought blindly for her robe. “She’s got no clue to you going so it’d be an awful politeness” the distinct image of the companion’s clad skin peaking through her thin nightgown sent a chill down his spine. His arm brushed against a comb and likely expensive jewels which skidded to the ground, clanking in booming impact with the hard panels.

In meek embarrassment he went to retrieve it as she looked on in bland expression; her delicate fingers clutching emerald satin. “Well, I wouldn’t want to impose on the poor girl, Mal,” she spoke, making sure to place emphasis on her words, or a certain adjective as she delicately slipped the fabric over her shoulders. “I mean, after all, she is sleeping, is she not?” reminding him of his rude antics she fastened the robe tightly to her frame, her arms swept across her chest; back pressed against an array of cushions as she watched tense muscles pulsate against the fabric of his shirt in obvious disgruntled air.

With a tight smile, Mal jerked his head. “I was just concerned, is all,” though Inara failed to see such an emotion she kept in mind the captain was rather dimwitted when it came to feelings or anything dealing with a beating heart, really. Deciding to ignore him for the moment, she fell silent, allowing him to continue.

“Last we was planetside you went to leaving without so much a word edgewise,” resentment was one of several sensations as he spoke, his hand kneading the nape of his neck in rough succession. “Now that suits me just fine, Inara," he explained. "That's one less mouth needs feeding—but Kaylee…” pausing he visibly tensed; truth evident in his eyes that her departure had affected more then just Serenity’s prodigy of a mechanic. A hand falling to his hair, he shifted his stance, scrubbing furiously.

“Mal, I waved her as soon as I settled,” Inara exclaimed suddenly. “She seemed fine when I spoke with her then,” with a shake of her head, she sighed. “Had I own of known she—”

“Well, perhaps you weren’t so focused on your clientele you would have.” Inara froze. It was nothing short of obvious she was hurt by his assumptions. Her eyes wavered from his own, while Mal himself swallowed. “I didn’t mean that,” Inara gave a listless laugh, but said nothing. “Reckon to say, suppose Kaylee didn’t want to go and fret you none,” he began again, “she gets a mite worked up when you’re away at times; don’t like you knowing about it.” The captain let his gaze wander.

“Not apt to admitting just yet but she aint quite custom to the black,” the mere imagery of sweet, smiling Kaylee sobbing miserably at her own expense nearly had the companion swelling to tears. It didn't go unnoticed to Mal though he didn't make a show of knowing so, as he went on smoothly.

“Little Kaylee’s no close to ready for the sort of roughness it has to offer, and while a part of me wishes she were, the other’s just as well to keeping that innocence,” his eyes found hers as he spoke.

“She takes to folk easy, Inara. Always has,” as his coarse exterior faltered, the companion caught his eyes. “With you it’s no different,” with another shift of his feet the captain seemed to hesitate. “Sees to you like a sister,” with a small jerk of her head Inara gave the assurance she was just as compassionate about the young girl. With his throat tugging he attempted composure. "Sees to us all as family in some way,"

"And it's awful quick to earn her likings--hell, she's the gorram walking sunshine, that girl--she don't know such a thing as spite," Mal stopped, exhaling a jagged breath. "But once she dotes you as family it's something entirely different." Silence was deafening and soon, Malcolm was moving forward.

The companion tried to discern his thoughts as he took her arm. There was something in his tone, his eyes even that suggested he was keeping something from her but she couldn't quite place it.

“Mal?” clearing his throat, his voice fell over her own.

“I’m fed up, Inara,” he admitted gruffly. “Hearing her go on about Simon’s proper firm buttocks and Jayne’s incessant need to lift weights all hours of the gorram night.. it aint a bit pleasing to my resting needs” Inara gave a questioning glance at his sudden blunt change of sentiment. “I’m not built for such girlish messes. In fact, I’m getting a mite tiresome of the act,” he began. It was apparent Kaylee had been using the captain’s company in some blatant attempt to substitute Inara’s absence, and before the companion could properly react he was ranting once again.

“So you either wave more often or leave less frequent. Don’t much care which one you go about doing so long as you do. Dong ma<understand>?” at his curt demands, Inara quirked her brow.

Rising from the mattress, she stood. “Of course, certainly, it’s just,” the companion feigned befuddlement as she adjusted her robe. “Well," she started, "forgive me if I’m wrong with my assumptions, captain, but," a breath, "I was under the impression time doesn’t matter much,”

"..out here in the black, that is,” quoting his previous words, Malcolm’s smug grin stiffened a bit. “As I said previously I would hate to impose.”

Crossing his arms the captain shrugged. “Oh I reckon you aint need to worry imposing none with little Kaylee,”

“Seen her back tinkering with the engine not too long ago so she’s up and about someplace, I’m certain,” Inara scoffed. She highly doubted it was by choice alone the young mechanic was working so late an hour and made mental notes to lecture the girl on her habitual will-to-please, as Kaylee had more then likely refused to see the captain disappointed; especially when such restlessness was directed towards her.

“Really, Mal,” she said tiredly. “She’s too young to be up so late an hour,” at her scolding response, Malcolm’s hands reclaimed his coat pockets. A slight shake of her head and she proceeded softly. “A growing girl needs her sleep," she spoke. "I know such a concept is hard to fathom for the likes of—”

“A petty thief like me?” his eyes darkened considerably, his expression indifferent though he gave a sluggish chuckle.

Inara gave a sharp inhale. “An arrogant, bigot like yourself, captain,” she couldn’t fight the glare that framed her countenance. "I was only proceeding to comment on your own perusal sleepless ventures,"

"Before you so rudely attempted your precognitive accusation, that is," with a disgruntled breath, Inara resisted the tempting urge to mention any more profane contradictory statements on the matter. Clearing her throat she sought composure. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be seeing to Kaylee,” she lowered her head in show of formality before starting for the shuttle door. Stopping, however, she turned.

“Malcolm,” he stood quiet, hovered over her petite frame in stilled coldness. As she called again he blinked for a moment, swallowing. “Will you please let go of me,” she explained, tugging as if to prove her distilled movements. Perhaps if he were capable of blushing he would have. “Mal, please,” she stressed, her voice strained.

With his expression hard, the captain sent her a fleeting glance. Adjusting his gun holster for no apparent reason, he gave a curt nod. “Right then,” stepping back Mal reluctantly faltered his grip. “Suppose I got captainy things needs doing,” as she dutifully made way for Serenity’s giddy mechanic he followed steadily.

Of course Malcolm wouldn’t say goodbye, Inara knew well enough of the captain by now to know he was fully incapable of such compassion. Instead he simply slid past her, avoiding the draperies this time around as he dipped under the threshold.