flybywash: (the ghost months)
[personal profile] flybywash
They call it the ghost months.

It used to keep time with the moon of Earth-That-Was, and it used to happen every year. They'd tell stories of the dead walking the earth: ancestors returned to visit their families, ghosts sent to snatch the living back through the gates of Hell. They'd burn offerings, perform plays; they'd avoid weddings, water, and open spaces after dark.

They still tell the stories, but only once every seven years now, and for two months straight instead of the ancient tradition of one.

On Sihnon, fires burn bright on the streetcorners, kept in tightly tamped containers with narrow grates along the top. The only paper money this side of the system will ever see (available in packets from the vendor across the street, ten fake bills for one credit) gets tossed inside by passerby, a tourist novelty, a casual afterthought.

Beaumonde's known for its giant theater festival that spans the entire two months, one new play every day. Traditionally, only the best new drama debuts here. A work based on Sing Hua's three-act novels is slated to take center stage at the exact midpoint of this decade's festival, a time slot accompanied by an elaborate all-day buffet and one that's fiercely contested over for years leading up to it. Tickets have been sold out for well over a year and a half.

Nobody living in the Bellerophon Estates will claim to believe the myths, but travel over the vast ocean slows come nightfall anyway. Some even walk to the edge of their property, lean over to look down at the waters, and silently drop paper boats over the side before retreating indoors.

On Serenity, they hold a moment of silence, and nobody finishes their entire meal or cleans up the dishes after dinner.

In Wash and Zoe's bunk, Wash falls asleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow.

Date: 2006-08-31 02:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe doesn't bother trying to pull herself back together. She just wraps both arms around Wash and holds on, her own face buried in his shoulder.

Date: 2006-08-31 02:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe can believe it'll be okay. Eventually.

But as they've established, eventually doesn't help so much with right now.

Zoe pulls back, framing his face with her hands, and kisses him firmly, and then again, like Death's coming back in four minutes instead of four days and she has to get everything in while she can.

Date: 2006-08-31 03:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Finally, Zoe pulls back enough to rest her forehead against his, her eyes closed.

Low, "Four days?"

Date: 2006-08-31 03:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
A shaky exhalation of breath that's almost a laugh, and she drops her face into the hollow of his neck.

"Hadn't even thought about that, yet. But I guess someone's gotta fly this thing."



"Gonna be a lot to do, before."

It doesn't matter that she can't finish the statement.

Date: 2006-08-31 03:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
The hurt when he pulls away is unexpected.

And on the heels of her first thought--don't be ridiculous, he's got a job to do--comes another, just as unexpected.

Is this what it's like for him, with me'n'Mal?

It takes her by surprise, but she doesn't have time to dwell on it right now, and she doesn't stop Wash as he pulls away.

Date: 2006-08-31 04:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Having a job to focus on right now is good.

So's not letting Wash out of her sight, if she can help it.

"Sure, baby."

A nod, and she slips out of bed as well, reaching for her own clothes.

Date: 2006-09-01 04:33 am (UTC)
river_meimei: (drawing)
From: [personal profile] river_meimei
River should be asleep; Simon checked on her before bed half an hour or so ago. She was sprawled on top of her bed, feet tucked beneath her pillow, poring over the latest issue of the physics journal Wash subscribed her to last Christmas.

"Go to bed soon, mèimei?" he'd said, putting a light hand on her shoulder.

"The ur-cosmological theory needs restructuring," she'd informed him. "I will."

She's still awake, though, and still frowning at her article.

After a while, her head lifts. "No," she tells the air, as if responding to someone else's question. "The substrate is inherently flawed. We'll have to account for three more early quantum states."

As if something's been decided, she rolls off her bed, knocking the pillow to the floor without noticing. Digital paper in hand, she slips out into the hallway.

Date: 2006-09-01 05:09 am (UTC)
river_meimei: (i can kill you with my brain)
From: [personal profile] river_meimei
Out into the hall, and up the stairs alongside the infirmary. River trails a hand along the railing, tracing textures along it. The stairway leads to the aft hall; the engine room is to one side, the kitchen to the other. It's to the kitchen she turns.

She pauses in the doorway, watching.

Date: 2006-09-01 05:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe's just been sitting by Wash's side as he goes through the charts, one arm loosely around his waist.

She's the first one to get the sensation of being watched, and she half-turns, offering River a small (very small) smile before her hand moves up to Wash's shoulder, squeezing gently to get his attention.

Date: 2006-09-01 05:41 am (UTC)
river_meimei: (startled)
From: [personal profile] river_meimei
"I was thirsty," River says vaguely -- an explanation, maybe, or just a comment.

But she moves forward after a minute, towards the table and the crate placed at the end of it. River likes makeshift seats better than actual chairs, often.

Date: 2006-09-01 05:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
"Honey."

Zoe's hand moves again, from shoulder to neck, rubbing gently.

"I think you should probably just start from the beginning."

Date: 2006-09-01 05:59 am (UTC)
river_meimei: (attention caught)
From: [personal profile] river_meimei
River flinched, her expression flickering through startlement and confusion, in a moment when Wash was looking down at the charts.

She's listening; her shoulders are hunched, and her gaze slides from the charts to Wash and Zoe and the empty air around them. Mostly, she focuses on the charts.

She's silent.

Date: 2006-09-01 06:17 am (UTC)
river_meimei: (creepy little girl)
From: [personal profile] river_meimei
"What you do," River says, low.

Her head snaps sideways a fraction of an inch, and her breath shudders with sudden comprehension or sudden vertigo. It passes in an instant, as usual, and it leaves her face wearier and older.

"You want to stay," she whispers to the chart, fingers twitching against nothing.

"I want to ask. Please."

Date: 2006-09-01 06:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] righthandwoman.livejournal.com
Zoe sucks in a sharp breath, and her fingers on Wash's neck tighten until she forces them to relax.

I didn't ask him. If I can keep from that--

But it's not the same for River to control herself and not say something, and Zoe knows it.

That only takes a little of the sting away.

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