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I need a metaphor…
Not sand. I’ve done sand.
Not rain/ocean/glowingmoon. Done and over.
I want something fresh, something unexpected. Not, ohgosh, not computers. So done it’s burning.
Fluffy little kittens! No. For heaven’s sake, no.
Fierce, jungle jaguars… abso*lute*ly not.
Sidewalks.
…
Hmm.
Simon Tam is full of cracks. River has to hop over them, or risk breaking her mother’s weak spine. She counts the hops, counts the breaking points, places where the heat and pressure of living have ruptured him.
::falls over laughing::
Forget it. No metaphors today.
Oh, hello lj. How did you get here? I was just...
Simon Tam is an enigma. He is soft and pale and pretty, with a mouth designed for kissing and refined conversation. He also has the strength to fight his way free of armed guards, when given the right incentive.
Jayne has hated him from the instant their eyes first met.
Growing up in a big family, you learn family loyalty and self-interest simultaneously. Back home, Jayne never got a mouthful of food that he didn’t wrest away from his brothers, and he never shot an animal he didn’t hand over to his mama for family supper. River Tam looks like a wild creature, ready to snatch what she needs, but Jayne would lay good money down that Simon never fought for anything in his life before he went on the run with her.
Jayne wants, badly, to keep hating the brave, foolish, admiring doctor.
He doesn’t want to think about the fact that Simon could figure it out at any time, just put two and two together and stitch up the events in the Alliance hospital nice and tight. He wants to pretend that he knew all along that Simon and River Tam were family. But Simon got them all into a locked-tight Alliance facility, with no difficulties except the ones Jayne made himself.
Simon is going to figure it out.
Mal has been watching Simon carefully, trying to be subtle without much success. He’s always stared a little too long at the doctor when he thought nobody noticed, but now he seems to be searching for something particular.
~ and that was all mixed metaphor.
I need a miracle.
Not sand. I’ve done sand.
Not rain/ocean/glowingmoon. Done and over.
I want something fresh, something unexpected. Not, ohgosh, not computers. So done it’s burning.
Fluffy little kittens! No. For heaven’s sake, no.
Fierce, jungle jaguars… abso*lute*ly not.
Sidewalks.
…
Hmm.
Simon Tam is full of cracks. River has to hop over them, or risk breaking her mother’s weak spine. She counts the hops, counts the breaking points, places where the heat and pressure of living have ruptured him.
::falls over laughing::
Forget it. No metaphors today.
Oh, hello lj. How did you get here? I was just...
Simon Tam is an enigma. He is soft and pale and pretty, with a mouth designed for kissing and refined conversation. He also has the strength to fight his way free of armed guards, when given the right incentive.
Jayne has hated him from the instant their eyes first met.
Growing up in a big family, you learn family loyalty and self-interest simultaneously. Back home, Jayne never got a mouthful of food that he didn’t wrest away from his brothers, and he never shot an animal he didn’t hand over to his mama for family supper. River Tam looks like a wild creature, ready to snatch what she needs, but Jayne would lay good money down that Simon never fought for anything in his life before he went on the run with her.
Jayne wants, badly, to keep hating the brave, foolish, admiring doctor.
He doesn’t want to think about the fact that Simon could figure it out at any time, just put two and two together and stitch up the events in the Alliance hospital nice and tight. He wants to pretend that he knew all along that Simon and River Tam were family. But Simon got them all into a locked-tight Alliance facility, with no difficulties except the ones Jayne made himself.
Simon is going to figure it out.
Mal has been watching Simon carefully, trying to be subtle without much success. He’s always stared a little too long at the doctor when he thought nobody noticed, but now he seems to be searching for something particular.
~ and that was all mixed metaphor.
I need a miracle.