Twenty-Five

Okay, so this post is two days late . . . so what?

I am now officially a quarter-century old. *cue the confetti* Had a pretty quiet birthday, all told, which is good. I meant to go to the Haven that day, but before I could leave the house (read: camper) I had to 1) pay my bills and figure my finances, 2) do my laundry, and 3) take a shower. I also wanted to go put gas in the bug and buy a new umbrella (my old black one is finally broken beyond the ability to work around), but I didn't get that far either.

It was nearly five in the evening before I got out of the shower, and it rained off and on, so I didn't feel like going anywhere after that. Not to mention, most of the Haven people I'd hang out with would have been too busy preparing for Pennsic War (they left today, and the shop won't be open for a couple weeks while they're there) for me to be much interested in going after all.

So I stayed home and had a lazy day. It helped, because last Saturday I stayed up until 7 a.m. Sunday, and had yet to catch up on the missed sleep at the time, despite getting regular amounts of sleep on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights. But when I went back to work yesterday, I felt refreshed.

Last Saturday, I saw Hancock with Kayla--it was funny, and I liked the story a lot. Great special effects and fight scenes as well. We were originally going to see the new Batman movie, but the show we wanted to see was sold out and we didn't want to have to leave and come back for another show, so we saw Hancock instead.

Tomorrow, we're seeing Batman, so it's all good.

For my birthday, I got a new purse, a wallet, a new watch, and an electronic Sudoku game. I'd never cared much about having a wallet or not, 'cause I just kept my cash in my pocket (or on the cup on my nightstand) and my most-used cards in my checkbook, but it's nice to have it all in one place and not need the pocket or the cup.

I was kind of leery about using a new watch while the old one still works just fine, but the new one is just so pretty (the old one was gold finish, and I prefer silver, which the new one is) that I couldn't resist. So I stopped the old watch (pulled out the knob) so the battery wouldn't die, and buckled it to my old purse.

Brother B. also sent me a telegram for my birthday--he's a ham radio operator, so he sent the message through that to another operator, who called my cell phone and left it on my voice mail. That was pretty cool. He also called to follow up a little while later.

I was going to say something about the last day or two or something, but for the life of me I can't remember what it was now. Oh well, if I remember, I can always make another entry.

I'm too old to be single.

So Kimba's got a boyfriend. That's nothing new--she's had pretty steady relationships for the last 3-5 years at least. In fact, she's only had two different boyfriends in all that time. Her current boyfriend's name is Jason. On the extremely rare occasions that he and my brother are in the same room, it gets a little confusing.

Anna started seeing this one guy from her forensic biology class by the name of Tim. Kayla and I call him Twigg, or Twiggler (his last name, or a play on it), since we know too many Tims already.

Then there's me. I haven't had a date that was anything more than platonic in so long a time that it can be measured in years. The last date I had that was even remotely romance-based (read: there was actual kissing and stuff, not just friendly chat) was . . . I don't remember exactly how long ago, but it was with Patrick W, before he went to Vermont on that trip with his local YSA group.

Given this information, imagine my surprise when Anna, the youngest of my two younger sisters, came into the camper this evening waving the black diamond solitaire on her hand. It's interesting, I never knew black diamonds weren't actually black. Anna's is actually a dark purple color. But the ring really suits her.

Yes, my friends, my twenty-year-old sister is getting married--in February. Don't get me wrong, I like Twiggler--he's funny, and makes Anna happy. I was just surprised that Kimba wasn't the one to get engaged first (since I'm nowhere near that stage with any guy I know and Kimba's the next oldest, at twenty-three--twenty-four in September), since she's been with her boyfriend longer. Then again, I know I've heard her say stuff about not getting married while she's in school or something, which seems kinda stupid to me, but that's just my opinion.

Anyway, that's the news. My sister's getting married, which is awesome, and I think I'm too old to be single--not that I can do anything about it right now, since I don't know any guys well enough to even consider not being single with them anyway.

Ahhhhhh

Yesterday, I got my birthday present to myself--an hour-long full-body massage from the FMH Wellness Center in the FSK mall. Oh man, was that a great idea!

I'd've gotten it on my birthday (since I've taken off work that day), but the massage therapist I usually go to isn't working that day. She's all booked up for the Saturday after, and isn't working the Saturday before either, so I went yesterday instead. I should've done it months ago--the tension headaches were coming more frequently, and it sucked. Today, there's a little tension, but not so much that I feel a headache anywhere near coming on. I feel sooooo much better.

I need to go to my storage unit today and search for my bundle of index cards. I've looked through all of the bins in the camper here, but I can't find them, so I think I packed them with the stuff I don't need from day to day. Maybe I'll grab MacGyver season one while I'm there, so that Jason can watch the whole thing from the beginning--he's been watching season two, since that was the season I was on when I moved--I'd already packed up season one.

The day of my birthday, I'm going to wake up late (I'm thinking 9 or 9:30 will be good, 10 or so, if I can stay comfortably asleep that long), then go to the Haven until about 4-ish before I come home and have dinner with my family. Which reminds me, I have to choose my birthday dinner food!

The group of people playing in my Serenity game has decided that we'll be playing the day before my birthday, instead of the day after, since one of them (the guy playing the captain of the ship) won't be there on the 24th. I'm hoping Heather can come with me that evening and see the coolness that is the Haven. Or at least that she can come with me on one of the few evenings she's here before that, since she'll be leaving the day of my birthday and might be too tired the night before to come hang out. Either way, it'll be good to see Heather again. (Hi, chica!)

Anyway, I'm going to read some more before I head over to the storage facility for those index cards (the gate to access the units is open until 10pm, 7 days a week)--I need them to prepare for the Serenity game, since I'm so disorganized and didn't even know how much until I ran the first session (the very first session of the very first RPG I'd ever run, and I hadn't even played this particular system before either) and had to stop frequently just to check rules or find my place in the story line again.

I got a tip from Brian (the guy playing the captain) about using index cards for NPC stuff, and I might also use index cards to take notes on the storyline itself, instead of just reading straight from the story, since I accidentally printed four PDF pages per each 8-1/2 x 11-inch sheet of paper, and the print is tiny. I can read it, but it takes a minute to find where I am again. I don't want to waste more ink and paper though, so I'm not going to re-print it. Index card notes should work just as well.

It's a good thing my Serenity GM screen came in the mail this weekend, or else I'd have to look for rules such as weapon damage and armor stuff during game play again. And since my rulebook is a first-printing, it doesn't have an index, so I pretty much have to remember which chapter and/or section the rule is in, or be screwed (in which case, I just make up a new rule based on my somewhat spotty memory of the actual rule, which is bad).

Only Fell

A Firefly fanfic by DSDragon

A Non-Firefly-Related Note: To all of you waiting for chapter seven of The Pitfalls and Pleasantries of Kryptonian Multiplication, I am sorry to disappoint you with yet another non-Lois & Clark fic. The truth is, I haven’t even started thinking about what will happen in that chapter, but rest assured that I will. I just happen to be on a kick with another fandom at the moment. One of these days, I’m sure I’ll crack down on myself and force my fingers to type some good ol’ L&C.

Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly, or any of the characters therefrom. Joss Whedon, FOX and the studios that the BDM was filmed by do. More’s the pity, ‘cause if I did, I certainly wouldn’t let that be all there was.

Spoilers: Our Mrs. Reynolds—much of the dialogue for this story has been yoinked straight from that episode. Other than that, I’ve tried to explain everything in as close to my own words as possible.

“You guys don’t understand,” Captain Malcolm Reynolds protested as he staggered to his feet. Nearby, Simon was stowing his stethoscope in his bag and the Shepherd, Zoe, Wash and Inara had found places around the captain’s bunk.

“Seems pretty straightforward to me,” answered the Shepherd. “You were taking advantage--”

“I was the one being taken advantage of!” Mal shouted as he pulled on his left suspender.

“My apologies. You were victimized, Wash was beaten, and then Inara found you here.”

“Uh-And then I fell,” Inara interjected from Mal’s bed as she pointed to the floor. Mal thought her voice sounded different—maybe she was sleepy? “My head got hurt like Wash.”

“I don’t get any of this,” lamented the captain, ignoring the Companion on his bed for the moment.

“I only fell is all,” Inara persisted, slightly louder.

“No, you didn’t,” Simon answered her.

“How you know that, when you ain’t even examined her?” Zoe asked.

“No need.” The doctor stood and faced the captain, rubbing his face roughly with a cloth and backing away before Mal could even think to block the other man’s arm.

“Ow!” Mal protested. “What was that for?”

“The Good Night Kiss is tasteless,” Simon began as he lowered the handkerchief to his side.

“Yeah, so?”

“So, Captain, since the narcotic is tasteless, you should be able to tell me whether or not Saffron was wearing lipstick, which has a distinct flavor.”

Mal’s lips pursed as he tried to remember. “She wasn’t--not a smudge. But what’s that gotta do with anything?”

Simon brought his hand up to Mal’s eye level, showing him the side of the cloth—a snow-white handkerchief—with which he had wiped Mal’s face.

Mal peered at the fine white fabric. In the center, barely noticeable, was a patch of color. Mal couldn’t decide whether it was a light purple or a dusky pink, but he didn’t have to look at the woman on his bunk to know where it came from. “Huh,” he said, staring at the smudge. Suddenly, Inara's "sleepy" tone of voice made sense.

“What?” Wash asked from his position beside Zoe.

“Nothing to go crazy over,” Mal answered, filing the information away for a later, more private conversation. He grabbed the handkerchief from the doctor and pocketed it, deliberately not looking Inara’s way. Mal suddenly wondered why half of his crew was currently crowding his bunk and turned to Zoe.

“What the hell’s our status?”

Just a Little Interesting Thing

So, I was walking to the Haven yesterday, and just before I turned onto Carroll from Church, I saw these two . . . vehicles turn onto Church Street from a driveway or something a block or two to the east of me. That's nothing new. But what was really interesting was that the two vehicles were tanks. Really. They had guns on the top that hung out past the front of the vehicles and everything. They didn't have treads though--just six huge wheels instead.

A Certain Essence

A Firefly fanfic by DSDragon

Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly, or any of the characters therefrom. Joss Whedon, FOX and the studios that the BDM was filmed by do. More’s the pity, ‘cause if I did, I certainly wouldn’t let that be all there was.

Spoilers: Shindig.

He should have been paying attention to what that hick was saying, instead of to the tone in her voice as she answered the other man’s greeting. If he’d been doing as he ought, Atherton might have been able to refuse Reynolds’s request in a socially acceptable manner. (Never mind that there really was no way to do so.) But he had been too busy pondering the difference in Inara’s voice from just a few moments before.

Before, her voice had been as warm and lovely as the tones of a fine viola, not unlike the ancient Stradivarius from Earth-that-Was he’d once heard played solo on Londinium; now, it still reminded him of the masterwork viola, but there was something different to its timbre. Some added extra that had nothing—or was it everything?—to do with the irritation she used to color it.

He was shaken from his reverie as Inara’s arm was pulled from fingers he hadn’t realized had tightened in the few seconds that had passed since she had introduced that feh feh pi goh.

As he turned to watch her dance and ignore the “Captain,” he pondered what that difference could have been, but it was so mo min chi meow that when he heard Sir Harrow’s mocking compliment, the thought left him entirely for a moment.

“I know what’s mine,” he answered, putting as much scorn as he could into the sentiment, not looking away from the dance floor as he spoke, propriety be damned.

And then it was there again—that indefinable something—even though the dance had barely begun. Only this time, he couldn’t hear her voice. It was in the way she moved as she danced. He had seen her dance before—held her, even, as she did it. She was very graceful, and danced as flawlessly as she did everything else. But if a dance or a movement could have a timbre, then that strange timbre would be coloring the music of her movements in this dance as well.

He studied her some more as she joined that man for the first turn, saw her lips move as she spoke. It seemed they might be having an argument, and that lifted his spirit for a moment.

But it was only for a moment, as he noticed that, even in her disagreement, that indefinable, unfamiliar quality mocked his ignorance. He did not like to be mocked, and he prided himself on his lack of ignorance, but for all his wealth and all the times he’d contracted with Inara, he had never seen this part of her before.

He thought on it some more as the dance came through a second turn and the palm of her hand came together with Reynolds’s. Was it his imagination, or did her hand slide a bit as it parted from his, as if it were loathe to do so? The thought burned Atherton, but he pushed it to the back of his mind in favor of continuing his previous train of thought.

Just what was it that was different at this moment from the way she normally spoke, danced and looked? Surely, there was no lack of warmth or propriety; Inara was much too professional for that.

Then it struck him—professional.

Could it be that he had never seen the real Inara Serra? A less observant man might miss the slight differences between a well-trained act and the genuine woman, but there was no other possible conclusion in Atherton’s mind. And that realization made him want nothing more than to rip that man’s head off. Inara belonged to him tonight, to Atherton Wing. She had no business showing herself to some wu ming shao jwu this evening, when she was supposed to show it only to him. What right did Reynolds have, pulling that out of her when Atherton was supposed to be the one to do it?

The oaf tripped over his own feet, and Atherton, in a rage, barreled past him, grabbing Inara on the way.

“Woah, now. No need for any hands-on,” he heard from behind him.

Atherton swung around. “Excuse me,” he spit. “She’s not here with you, Captain. She’s mine.”

“Yours? She don’t belong to nobody.” Honestly, where did this sah gwa get his ideas? Inara was contracted to him for the next three days; therefore, she belonged to him.

“Money changed hands, which makes her mine tonight. And no matter how you dress her up, she’s still—“

Te ma duh, the man had a fist like a battering ram! Atherton shook himself as Reynolds made some smartass remarks to Inara. Picking himself up off of the floor, Atherton said the one thing he could not do when it came to his own shortcomings:

“I accept.”

--

Feh Feh Pi Goh – Baboon’s ass crack

Wu Ming Shao Jwu – Peon, small fry, a nobody, literally, “nameless little foot soldier”

Mo Min Chi Meow – Ridiculously strange, illogical or nonsensical, literally, “not understanding the peculiarity”

Sah Gwa – Fool, literally, “stupid melonhead”

Te Ma Duh – Damn, damn it, literally, “your mother’s . . .”