Doin' a little magic [open]

[anaturaltalent.livejournal.com]

Kaylee is in the Sensorium, doing her favourite thing in the world: working on Serenity's engine. The whole place has turned into the interior of her ship (without any of the "crew" - that would be too weird), and she's tucked away in the engine room, fixing things that need fixing.

It's not the same, because she doesn't sound quite right, but Kaylee doesn't mind too much. It's enough to keep her from dying of homesickness.

If anyone would care to wander in, just follow the banging sounds up the stairs and through the mess back to the engine room. She won't mind company.

Comments

[anaturaltalent.livejournal.com]

Kaylee's expression sobers, and she looks down at her hands. "Duìbùqĭ. Sorry. I shouldn't've asked about that." Truth is, she's homesick something fierce - not for the place, but the people, her crew, her family, and that's not something she can fix with a nice afternoon in the Sensorium.

"There's gotta be a way back though," she offers. "I mean, if we got here, there's gotta be a way to do it backwards. I'll betcha we get it all sorted out real soon." Her voice isn't very convincing, but it's obvious she wants it to be true, wants it desperately.

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

He looks up at her and nods. "Truly, I do not mind. I'm afraid my time spent as a herald has made me over-dramatic. We will find a way back, and until then I have enough friends that I am sure my family will be taken care of."

He smiles, a little sadly, and says, "In truth, I think it is worse that I was finally home after six months when I was taken; I expected to be awoken to three raucous children, a wickedly amused wife, and a hangover; not to ooze and strange, foreign things."

"It helps to write to her, to try to find words for," he looks around, gestures, "all of this. Can you imagine what you will say? I cannot."

[anaturaltalent.livejournal.com]

Kaylee likes his words. They're elegant and beautiful without ringing too much of "upper class". And she takes his last question very seriously, pursing her lips.

"There's... ships, what fly between the stars," she says slowly. "An' some of 'em are bigger'n anything, boxy and ugly and cruel. An' some of 'em are small and sleek and graceful. Lots are old, an' most folk'd say they're junk, but love of 'em, love of the sky, it holds 'em together, keeps 'em flyin', and they fly true right enough."

She can be poetical when she gets a mind. And while it might not describe the actual sight, her description probably captures it better than "There were large metal things that flew, with people in them."

[godimgood.livejournal.com]

Geoff can feel himself being carried away by her words, and smiles.

"You know, I may just steal that. You almost make all this sound... ideal."