aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Big Damn Hero)
That ain’t much of a hard question to answer, all things considered...I think I’d like to go back, like most folk, and see Earth-That-Was in all her glory. That’d be right shiny in my book. Still, that’s awful broad...Earth-That-Was had herself a whole lotta history ‘fore we done went and used her all up.

Now I ain’t all full of fancy learnin’ like the good doctor or Inara, and I’m even less full of historical-type learnin’, but I know a few stories about her in her prime...legends and the like. Think I’d like to see Earth in her prime...that last great hurrah ‘fore we had to kick her to the curb. And I mean the days before the all-hailed exodus...I mean them days when vehicles burned oil and space was still a great, unexplored frontier.

The days when the stars meant somethin’, tiny and bright up in the sky. Days when a ship on water or a vehicle on some vast dirt road...hell, maybe even a horse galloping along some untrod path was freedom. Back then, the world was smaller...and I think sometimes freedom meant more for it. Man never looked past his own horizon to find adventure...never needed soil wasn’t on his own rock to feel that unfettered joy comes from answerin’ to no man but his own self.

I think I’d like to see if that’s even possible...when the world was big and frightsome to them not ready for its size. When the ‘verse weren’t a territory, but damn near a religion.

Then again...I guess ain’t much changed in that way, has it? ‘Verse may be smaller, and might be a rock or a spaceship you call home ‘stead of a house...but that vast wide black out there? It’s still a big ruttin’ space...and there’s still men and women that look to it for freedom.

In its own way...I guess the ‘verse is still her own religion.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 332
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Can't Be Good)
"C`mon, Cap`n...you gotta get her *something!*" )

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 578
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Pensive)
Marriage ain’t too different from most things in life...ain’t particularly complicated at all. Everything’s simple in the start ‘till some fong luh hwoon dahn comes along and twists everything all up and makes a mess of it.

You love someone or you don’t. Real simple...there ain’t no in between place. Love ‘em a little, they’re a friend. Love ‘em a lot, they’re family. Trust ‘em or don’t, could be an ally or an enemy. But love...real love, the kind that takes you off yer feet and has you dancin’ on a cloud or some other fuzzified nonsense, has no in between.

You love someone? You either want to spend your life with ‘em or you don’t. Again...ain’t no in between. You got an in between, then maybe you ain’t got love. After that, it’s only a matter of a man havin’ guts enough to ask the question could break him up into a million bits if his girl says no. Shucks, I even heard of girls doin’ the asking, and you know what? That’s just shiny. As a rule, most womenfolk got one up on us big dumb male types, anyhow...least when it comes to how ya feel.

That’s another thing, too...feelings. Women do seem to have the market cornered on ‘em...always wantin’ to talk about ‘em, express ‘em, get right techy if a man don’t wanna do the same.

Some men don’t need a lot of words to let a woman know she’s wanted, though. Sometimes it just takes a handful...hell, sometimes takes only two t’ get a point across.

Two words...not four. ‘Cause if a man ain’t yet after marriage, there’s still some things he needs to know if he don’t yet.

And regardless of which words get said or who gets asked what, or even who does the askin’...whether it’s ‘yes’ or ‘I don’t know’...at the end of the day, whichever you take...

...it’s still a good answer.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 333
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Pensive)
He only paused for a moment as the Operative walked away, those final words ringing in his head.

“There is nothing left to see.”

It was only a moment that pity stirred in him…not so much for the man himself, Mal had lied about his feelings…he’d do worse than kill the man if ever they crossed paths again. He might even throw himself a party if he found that the Operative met a nasty end at the hands of them that hired him.

But his fate…that unsettled him some. Man of faith like that...ready to die for the thing that made his sun rise and set each morn. He’d honestly believed he was shaping a world that he’d never be worthy of…a world he believed in to such an end that he knew when he saw it, he’d never be able to live in it.

Mal had tasted that faith…and the Operative had seen his perfect world come undone around him. The shadow would fade, and one less evil would be walking around to vex honest folk…or even dishonest. That’s all he was now…not a man, not a monster, but a wispy vapor of smoke left over from something bigger and meaner. He couldn’t hurt nobody…never would again.

There wasn’t nothing left of him to call a man or beast…and that moved Mal to a certain kind of pity for one reason, if nothing else.

Had he moved a mite slower and not been so stubborn about dying…that could have been him standing in the Operative’s shoes.

But his pity didn’t last long…a pity felt for ghosts ain’t the kind that’s meant to last.

Like most things in shadow, even that would fade in time.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 286
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Pensive)
[locked]

Jealousy and me, we’re better friends ‘n I care to allow. Every time she goes to meet a client, it starts eatin’ away at me slow and painful. Gives birth to any multitude of foulness in me I ain’t proud to admit to.

It makes me hate her. Puts murder in my heart to any man that’s seen her or touched her…felt the heat of her flushed skin, seen those silky berry lips part in passion, the sweat on their skin dried by the warm caress of her breath gasping their name.

I hate her for giving that to other men that’ll never hold those moments where I do. I downright despise her for the fact that she’ll never understand that every body she’s ever touched kills me a little every day.

Worst of all, I hate myself ‘cause I’m too much the coward to stop her. I ain’t got the guts to share that poison I let swallow me every time I know she’s given herself to someone that’ll never care what they got…never know what price another man would pay for just a single second of the sweetness they tasted.

And I hate us both for knowin’ everything we got to say to each other, and the fact that we never let it come out our mouths in words…I hate the walls the world washes through, but keep me out and away from the only thing I really want.

Guess in the end? All jealousy really boils down to is hate…the kind that folks can only feel for the people in the world that they just can’t live without.

[/locked]
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Can't Be Good)
Now I know...right off the bat, I know. Y’all probably think you got the answer ‘fore I even give it, and a few years back? I’d have told ya you were right without a speck of hesitation or a single scrap of an argument, or anything resemblin’ one.

All right, yes...I’ll fess up to what we all know in our hearts t’ be true. The Alliance has been, and always will be, one of the biggest thorns a man could ever fear to have in his side. They a bane to my existence, and one hell of a gorram ruttin’ nuisance.

But...well, since I met the little missus? They’ve had some company in the number one spot on my list of Folk I’d Like To Kill, dong ma?

Yolanda...Saffron...Bridget...whatever name she gives ya, she’s trouble on two legs, and one of these days? I’m hopin’ she marries herself a man carryin’ some manner of nonlethal, but fair bothersome disease of passion, if you catch my meaning.

Now I know y’all probably might think there’s a bit of wounded pride talkin’ there...and y’all would be right. It’s a little more ‘n just bein’ made to look a fool. I been made to look a fool plenty of times...fair more ‘n I care to admit out loud, so I ain’t going to. But never did bein’ made a fool put my life in danger, and when I get took? It’s me that gets took, not my gorram crew. Out here in the black, crew’s closest a fella can get to family, and when that girl went and humped up my ship and nearly killed us all?

I don’t take kindly to that.

Nor do I take kindly to gettin’ left buck naked on some godforsaken moon. Even if I did near see it coming.

I been shot up and stabbed and all manner of injured...but when you wound a man’s pride...well, that’s when you done crossed the line.

Muse: Captain Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 336
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Pensive)
Death is the great leveler.

Well that right there’s gospel if I ever did hear it. I seen a lot of the Reaper during the War, and it ain’t no coincidence in my reckoning that Reavers and Reapers sound so durned alike. They got a lot in common…both are strong, both incite fear, and when you see both of ‘em coming, you run like hell if yer smart.

I seen a lotta men and how they face Death, and it’s all the same. Big or small, hard or soft, they usually beg for mercy. You can’t stop it when it comes…all you can hope for is the good fortune of a quick and painless end. Dyin’ with dignity or honor or any of that? Big pile of go se…when death comes, it’s messy and humblin’ and ugly as all get out.

Me? I’ve stared down the barrel of my fair share of guns…done my dance with Death a time or two. I’ve learned only one real thing from those confrontations…and that the old saying’s true. Hate, pride, everything that splits folks apart? Don’t mean a pile of nothin’ in the end, ‘cause when we die? We’re all afraid.

There’s only one way to go out with somethin’ under yer belt, even if it ain’t dignity or nothin’ pretty like that.

And that’s to die like a man oughta live…on yer feet.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 226
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Big Damn Hero)
He went to the training house because she was in danger. He went because the Alliance had sent their fool to try and get at Mal’s weakest spot by going after Inara. Hell, wasn’t much of a secret that where Inara Serra was concerned, Mal had a bit of a fuzzy spot in his head and his heart, one he couldn’t give name or nature to.

But that wasn’t his most desperate hour.

After finding comfort in Nahndi’s arms for a night, then losing her come the dawn, Mal thought he’d hit a low...then along comes Inara saying she was going to leave, that she should’ve done it long before...it hit him hard, and it hurt something fierce, a fact he’d never admit to another living soul.

But he’d seen darker times.

“Ready to get off this heap...back to civilized life?”

She finally stood before him, a pale ray of moonlight rather than her usual gaudy flash of crimson and gold...but no less beautiful, no less radiant. Still and unsure, she met his gaze and clenched her hands, and admitted to being human by confessing that her heart didn’t lie in the cool, pristine cradle of civilization as she’d always professed. Wasn’t the first time she’d done it, either...but the last time, there wasn’t any danger of losing her.

“I...uh...I don’t know.”

Now there was...and he couldn’t let that happen.

So he bit the bullet, gathered his courage...and smiled.

“Good answer.”

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 255
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Grace Is Gone)
[locked from everyone]

I don’t know your name. I ain’t even sure you got one that you can recall yourself. In the end, though, I reckon it don’t much matter, ‘cause you ain’t likely ever gonna get this here letter...it’s just one I need to write. It’s one I need for me, but that don’t mean I ain’t got a bit to say to you.

I’ve killed men before. Lots of men. I fought in the war...killed a peck of fellers that would’ve done me the same if I didn’t shoot ‘em first, dong ma? I’ve killed men in mercy...them that couldn’t get a doctor in the war, men that would’ve suffered days but for my gun. I’ve also killed men that Reavers got to...best I could do without becomin’ their next meal my own self.

I should’ve killed you...it would’ve been a kindness. But I made you watch instead...I made you see that great big scheme you was fightin’ for, knowin’ you’d be broke when it was done.

I did something what amounts to torture because you didn’t just come at me...you came at me and mine, them folks I call friends...them folks I care for.

But that ain’t even the first reason I saw fit to go for what you might have left of a soul rather than your throat, like would be merciful.

I did it ‘cause the first stop on your little journey was at the doorstep of the woman I love.

Now I wrote that there down ‘cause it’s the only way I know this letter ain’t never gonna see the light of day...I’ll carry it with me always, just to remind me of the dark place you sent me to inside myself. No eyes will ever read it ‘cause that one thing...that one bit of precious I laid out there ain’t somethin’ ever *can* be seen.

But should our paths cross again, and I do mean ever...you *will* see this letter here and you *will* read what I’m about to write.

You killed my family, and you hurt ‘em worse...and for that, sir, I will kill you...and I will kill you *slow.*

And I swear by all I do believe in, I plan to *enjoy* it.

[/locked]

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 380
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Grace Is Gone)
[locked from everyone]

I’ve thought about it...more ‘n once. What it’d be like to be in her world...be *with* her.

Near as I can see it, only chance I ever have is of goin’ through channels and havin’ her the way she seems to want...the way everyone else has. Not ‘servicing’ me...but me buying a moment of happiness, payin’ like any other gorram man that’s put his hands on her. I got a little put away, for emergencies and such.

I’ve thought about paying to stop the dreams I have, every ruttin’ night...dreams filled with heat and tinged in red, feeling her nails in my skin and her breath sharin’ mine. Tasting her, losin’ myself in her, feeling the world crumble away around us and rebuilt in the foggy, silken haze of passion.

I’ve thought about payin’ Inara’s fee for one night in her arms because you can’t put a price on a single moment of that kind of bliss.

But then I realize you can’t put a price on it ‘cause it’s worth more than money...more ‘n life.

And that’s when I put my coin back in my pocket and go back to whatever I was doin’ to begin with.

[/locked]

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 202
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Grace Is Gone)
He couldn’t be seen from his place in the corridor, but he could see her clear as day, arms around Wash carefully where he sat, minding the fresh wounds that would remind him of Niska long after they’d scarred.

She was beautiful...beyond beautiful, she was stunning. Full lips, legs that went on forever, perfect breasts...she was a woman and she gorram well knew it. Zoe was first and foremost a soldier, and she always would be...but she knew she was a woman, too.

And so did Mal.

So why didn’t it matter? He’d *had* a chance to bed her once...really bed her after they got good and stinking drunk in the aftermath of a successful skirmish during the war...even slept with her. Literal like...woke one morning with her head on his chest and her leg thrown over him, but the cold had gone so deep that night even the booze they’d laid into hadn’t been enough to chase away the chill. He knew good and well how Zoe felt...

...but he also knew how he felt, and not once in all the ruttin’ time he’d known her had he ever lusted for all that beauty. Admired it...been touched by it...but never once looked on her with lust.

No, that he reserved for the only woman who kept sex as her stock in trade...the one he could never have like he wanted, because it weren’t to her what it was to him: sacred.

The only woman whose body haunted him, haunted God knew how many other men, and that hurt on a level that was purt near physical.

It was why he never slept with Zoe...sex and love. He just couldn’t untangle them in his head. Even Nahndi he’d cared for, in a fashion. That pull on his spirit right along with his body...where the world melted away leaving just two bodies locked in passion.

He couldn’t have that with Inara...because the world would never melt away completely. There’d always be the next payin’ customer waiting on the sidelines...patiently biding his time until it was his turn.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 356
aim_to_misbehave: (Default)
“You are drunk as a skunk.”

“You gorram right I am, and you, *sir*, are humped, so stand still and take it like a man.”

Mal burst out laughing, shaking his head as the young private, much to the delight of Zoe, Morris, Doc Sutton, and the rest of his unit, proceeded to hang a chintzy strand of prayer beads around his neck.

“Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds, you are hereby awar...awarded the Meritorious Conduct...Award for...meritorious...conduct.” the private boomed, finishing his confirmation with a resounding belch just before falling flat on his face.

“That is the *last* gorram time anybody in this unit gives him whiskey, dong ma?” Mal deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

A mocking chorus of applause and laughter rose up, along with a few obligatory ‘yes, sirs’, followed immediately by a chorus of “Speech! Speech!” led by old Doc Sutton himself.

“Now you hesh up, Jake Sutton!” Mal growled without much real conviction. Still, in spite of himself, Mal rose to his feet in the middle of the small Independent-run bar and cleared his throat dramatically.

“First! I’d like to thank Private Nash here for lettin’ that bun tyen-shung duh ee-dway-ro Purplebelly sneak up on him so’s I could save his hide and win me this prestigious honor.” Mal began with a grin, laughing as Nash, who had hauled himself up off the floor, applauded drunkenly. “Second, I’d like to thank ol’ Doc Sutton for patchin’ up that knife wound of mine. Had a hellish time of it, I know, and had to move about all kinds of my innards, but it kept me alive to be here today so’s I could stand here to make y’all look bad with my new bit of shiny.”

“Amen to that, sir.” Zoe agreed with a grin.

Mal nodded, his grin softening and growing a bit warmer with sincerity. “Right...and thirdly, and I do say this with all seriousness, horsin’ about all aside...I gotta give a toast and a cheer to the finest buncha Browncoats a man could ever get the privilege of servin’ with.”

Mal watched his troops smile and move to stand...probably to raise their glasses when an officer came barreling through the door with a cry of “Purplebellies!” just before falling dead to the ground.

And as they answered the orders of their lieutenant, following Mal’s lead straight out the door to make a beeline back to base camp, he couldn’t help but smile as he thought about the day those ruttin’ sons of whores in the Alliance realized they were all but humped...because if he had his way? The boots they’d be licking would be those of his own gorram unit.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 450
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Can't Be Good)
Mal emerged from the bridge, heading for the mess hall where dinner was finishing up...he just hoped to high Heaven somebody had saved him a share of the fresh veggies they'd managed to get their hands on when last they hit planetside. Kaylee wasn't no Shepherd Book, but she could cook a bit, and those carrots she'd fried up looked pretty tasty when the wave had come for him over the Cortex...

When he arrived at the mess hall, he found only Inara remained, Jayne off in one corner cleaning his knives while Kaylee bustled about cleaning up from cooking.

"Just finished chattin' with Old Man Jubal on Halford." he declared, absently rubbing the back of his neck as he headed over to the kitchenette to see if his plate had been moved or not. "Looks like we got a job waitin' there if we move quick like...transportin' some grain, seems they got a shortage they're fixin' to do something about. You got any appointments that'll get interrupted with us goin', 'Nar?"
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Can't Be Good)
You ask anybody that’s known me more ‘n a moment or two and they can tell you easy what sticks in my craw above all else. Then again...most folks that just met me could tell you just as easy. Well...now that you mention it, all you really gotta do is *look* at me to tell...

Ain’t no big secret I got a beef with the Alliance. If ire was fuel, I could thank the government, ‘cause I’d never need to spend a dime to keep Serenity flyin’, not for all the rest of my born days. Now that may seem a mite petty and superficial, but that there’s just the tiniest branch on the tippy top of the tree.

The Alliance? They’re a symbol...for everyone and everything that thinks a man ain’t fit to make his own way in the world. It’s the end all and be all of lookin’ down on folks without cause, and that’s the one thing in all the ‘verse that gets my goat. I look down on a man, it’s ‘cause I’ll do that he won’t, and things he’d do that I’d never even entertain as actual thoughts. Things that matter, like workin’ for my daily bread and dealing fair with folks. Like knowin’ when a job ain’t worth the pay, or when there’s cause to take me on a stray...even if that stray puts me in the crosshairs of the whole gorram ‘verse.

And in some particular cases, it’s also been known to include the extent of a man’s personal hygiene.

But I will never put on false airs, dealin’ man to man. I’ll never see someone as less ‘n me unless he sees the rest of mankind as less ‘n him.

And the only time I’ll ever tell a man what to do, where to go, or how to think is when I’m payin’ his salary or watchin’ his back in the field of battle.

And even if Hell opened up ‘neath our feet in that battlefield? I’d never try to make of him something that he just plain ain’t.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 351
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Grace Is Gone)
[locked to the crew of SERENITY]

If I wouldn’t pay no price for it…I’d tell her everything.

I’d tell her how bad she twisted me up inside. I’d tell her all about my night with Nahndi, and how it meant so much to me…how it was what I needed right then. I’d tell her it was everything and nothing, ‘cause it wasn’t her, and it wasn’t enough, no matter how good.

I’d let myself see her hurts, and I’d hold her when they came…hold her like she ought to be held. Wouldn’t touch her like a Companion nor a whore…I’d make her remember she was a woman, not a lady, and ought to be touched and held and loved the way a good woman deserves to be.

I’d make her remember what that’s like…to be touched like a woman, ‘cause I reckon sometimes she’s forgot. And I don’t just mean in bed…I mean to be held and touched with hands, a squeeze of comfort on her shoulder or a pat on the back. Peck on the cheek, brushin’ past too close in the galley just ‘cause a body can…the kinds of touches ain’t taught at the training house, the kind that belong to just folks.

And you bet your bobcat I’d take her to bed…I’d make her forget she ever bedded another man. I’d love her hard and slow, burn her taste and touch and warmth into my brain, and I’d make damn sure I did the same for her. I might not be the best or the most skilled she’s ever been with, but I don’t doubt I’d be the realest.

If I wouldn’t pay no price…I’d admit I love her. I’d say it in my head and in my heart and right out loud…shout it from a rooftop or two. I’d stake my claim on her so hard it’d give her a headache.

If I wouldn’t pay no price…I’d tell her the one truth about Miranda that I’ll take to my grave, more like ‘n not.

I didn’t just take on the Devil to save the ‘verse from themselves…I did it to save the ‘verse for *her.*

[/locked]


Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 353
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Grace Is Gone)
Howdy! Been meanin’ to haul myself over here for a proper introduction and all...’specially since Inara’d be a mite put out if I didn’t and she kicks me enough under the dinner table already for my sass, so I figured now’s as good a time as any to pop my head in.

Name’s Reynolds, Malcolm Reynolds...mostly, though, I’m just Mal. I skipper SERENITY...she’s a Firefly-class ship, and she’s flightworthy, not much on sparkle and polish? But a beauty in her own right. She’s a transport ship most times, we move cargo for a fee...and at times, we have been known to move our cargo kinda sneaky-like. I mean, some of it bein’ illegal and all, it just seems like the thing to do. I been at this business for nigh on six years, ever since the end of the war...the Unification War, that is. I was a sergeant in my unit...fought for the Independents. Browncoat and proud of it, to those of you Alliance-friendly folk that might see fit to try and poke fun at me...I poke back. And hard. Y’all can consider that a warnin’.

At any rate, I’ve had my plate pretty full in the past couple years...took on an Alliance fugitive, got near killed by a crazy assassin, and exposed a government coverup of Reavers. Yup...me and mine been powerful busy. Y’all might be on speakin’ terms with some of my crew...my right-hook man, Jayne Cobb, then there’s the fugitive I done mentioned, River Tam. She’s a mite on the crazy side, but we don’t hold it against her. Much. And I think I also seen mention of my renter, Miss Inara Serra. Makes her home and business in one of my shuttles...fellas, with enough credits, she too can be yours for the evening...

...and now if y’all will excuse me? I’m gonna high-tail it on outta here ‘fore she can catch up to me.
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Grace Is Gone)
Good things ought not to hurt…least that’s what he’d been taught all his natural life. Well…most of his natural life. Some good things were supposed to hurt, like fightin’ for a cause you believed in. That could hurt something powerful, but that was the ‘standing up’ part of ‘standing up for your beliefs’…when it hurt, you stuck firm.

Mal watched the capture in his hand…the smiles and laughter as Inara packed her things. Kaylee’s bright little voice, soft and imploring…

“The Captain wants you to stay…”

It was a happy scene, and her face was the kind of thing high-falutin’ poets and writers and the like tried to capture when they plied their trade. Sculptors tried to make statues that had that grace and beauty, and men like that rat done skewered him a while back dreamed of having that much class. Her smile lit up rooms, her voice was like rubbed velvet on the ears, and she was sharp…hoo boy, was she ever sharp. When she yelled about offense and hollered about manners…facts was facts: you couldn’t knock that gorram woman over with an Alliance cruiser.

Strong, beautiful, and as nigh on to perfect as a man could find…he’d only ever seen anything that bright and shining and promising once before in his life…the day he laid eyes on SERENITY.

Good things ought not to hurt…but Inara Serra cut him deep. Soul deep.

Because good things ought not to hurt…unless you weren’t good enough to have them.


Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/SERENITY
Words: 249
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Grace Is Gone)
I ain’t too forthcomin’ with confessing to it, but once upon a time I was a God-fearin’ man. I read my Bible, I paid my respects when I passed a church...but then I realized there’s bigger fish to fry in this world...a lot more ‘n some high and mighty God to be afraid of.

That there’s what the Alliance took from me that makes me such a gorram nuisance...my faith an’ my fear. Way I see it? Them right there’s the basics of religion...faith in somethin’ bigger ‘n you, and fear of hellfire. Now I don’t deny that a seat in a real pretty church with some nice stained glass windows and an organ ain’t gonna inspire a hopeful notion or two ‘bout a Heaven and a great plan...but these days, about all I could do in a place like that is take advantage of the quiet and catch me a nap in a pew.

I been through the hellfire and I surrendered my faith to Serenity Valley.

If there’s a God and he wants worshippin’? Let him get it from Shepherd Book...but he best remember to speak softly in a graveyard. It’s a sin to wake the dead.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 205
aim_to_misbehave: (Mal Grace Is Gone)
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness... )

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 589
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