Coming of Age, The Dancer Season 2 Episode 1

[Elizabeth Heller]

Mary Ellen's Home - Inside

Elizabeth nodded after each command, and even though she wanted to voice her own suggestions, her incredible respect for Esi silenced her otherwise active tongue.

“...I'd better go before they decide to force me to. Elizabeth, hurry. Out the back, while I keep them occupied. Quick as you can.”

”Quick as I can, sifu,” the young woman pledged.

With Esi’s departure, Mary Ellen grabbed Elizabeth’s sleeve, drew close to her ear and whispered in hushed and fearful tones, as if John Milton possessed the hearing of a sulfur-spitting demon.

“Don’t let her go with him, Lizzie. He’s a monster in size and seed,” Mary Ellen’s wild eyes met Elizabeth’s, “He’ll hurt her, Lizzie…like he done to the others.”

Elizabeth’s mouth opened and closed as she struggled with the decision before her. Did she disobey Esi? Did she dare ignore Mary Ellen's warning?

Questions streamed through her consciousness: Who was Milton? Why did Mary Ellen fear him so? Who were the others?

But answers were an expensive luxury and at this moment, she was the proverbial church mouse.

Though Mary Ellen was four years older than Elizabeth, the future captain of The Dancer met her peer's gaze with much older eyes,
”Can you get to The Well?”

Without hesitation, the pregnant girl nodded,
“Buddy took one of the horses so our quad is in the out buildin'.”

Elizabeth’s eyes drifted down to the massive belly between them, already questioning her decision to ask for Mary Ellen’s help.

“I can make it, Lizzie,” the older girl spoke with such conviction that Elizabeth’s eyes were drawn back to hers, “I can make it.”

Nodding, the friends shared a brief hug, before Elizabeth started rummaging through her pack.

“What are you going to do?” whispered Mary Ellen.

Without looking over her shoulder, Elizabeth continued to remove the contents of her pack, seeking the item at the bottom,
”Do you still have Bella?”

Mary Ellen drew a little straighter with the mention of her prized pony,
“Of course.”

Elizabeth turned around…Round Jack’s Grizzly clutched in her right hand,
”I’m going to need to borrow her.”

[Jax Malone]

The Well - at the bar

Jax's brain and his body moved at conflicting speeds. The bottle was slow, hand rock-steady as another pull of bitter blazing alcohol moved down his throat. His thoughts tumbled over one another faster than they could be recognized. As she paused, her fingers inches from his face, the sight of her tears had his stomach tying itself in knots.

”’Jax Malone, I do believe that's the understatement of the year...Expectation will always let you down Malone. It’ll disappoint you with too much warning and overwhelm you with too little.” At her voice, the sound of his name on her tongue, a single shudder ran down his spine. Expectation. It had always been said that expectation made everything better, delayed reward versus immediate gratification.

He felt his gaze slide out of focus, looking at something a million miles and a thousand years off. He wasn't breathing, seeing again the cottage as they'd first spotted it - from a distance. It had been dark before the fire, a risk they took for the comfort and warmth in it - a stupid move, especially for the two of them. Should've known better, but neither of them had cared. Too much time spent surrounded by gunfire, explosions, death. It had been a moment for a different sort of war, flesh fighting flesh, a war without weapons or death or loss. A war where everybody won.

She pulled away then,her arm dropping with no further ceremony as she leaned against the bar, falling into a pose identical to his. Jax couldn't help but stare, jaw clenched tight. ”So, Malone, I guess the real question is…are you disappointed or overwhelmed?” Good gorram... Remembering to breathe, he managed a shaky inhale and wondered what the hell he was doing, what she was doing here, why he was standing with her.

"Rutting blind-sided," he smirked quietly. "Absolutely overwhelmed." As quickly as it had appeared, the smirk faded, another deep drink taken while the logical part of his brain registered Imza's presence further down the bar. Before The Dancer left Elysium, Jax had the feeling he'd be in some sort of trouble with someone. "How long have you been here?" He sure as hell hadn't spotted her on any of their previous trips in.

Angling his body towards her, weight shifting so that he leaned more on the bar, his head dropped slightly, eyelids lowering by minute degrees. Each inhale was shallow, as if any breath deeper than a sigh would tear him apart. His voice stayed low, head automatically tilting closer to hers. The logical part of his brain continued to scream, but Jax couldn't hear it anymore.

[Mr. Milton]

Mary Ellen's Home - Outside

“I am ready, Mister Milton. But I do hope you are not expecting me to ride one of those beasts. They tend to not like me very much.”

Milton swung his massive bulk up into the saddle of his equally massive mount and reached down for Esi. Though his hat still shrouded most of his face in shadow, the man’s chiseled jaw jutted into the light of the solar torches and brought forth words usually reserved for philosophers…or madmen,
”’Tis but a beast, Doctor, and until it puts me to the lash and saddles my back, I care not about its misgivings or preferences…such is the privilege of the rider and the lot of the ridden. Now, take my hand and fear not the affection of the animal beneath us.”

[Synthia Lyndon Heller]

The Well

Synthia set her wooden crate amplifier down as she stepped into Conseula's embrace.

"Yeah, that goes for me too. Always nice to see a friendly face, 'specially when it's yours." she said, following Imza's greeting as the mechanic headed into the bar, then scooping up the midsized burden as she entered.

The first thing that caught her attention was the music being played. She hadn't brought her own instrument just for the sake of having weight to carry, and she had been hoping there'd be others as well tonight. Then, like Imza before her, her eyes were drawn to the figure at the corner table.

It was dimly lit there, and his hair was different, longer . . .

The jacket was famiiar, but then again, Marcus Deckard hadn't been the only man who had such a jacket issued to them. Wouldn't have been much of a war if the Alliance only had one man per unit. Still, what were the odds of another one showing up here, another man who looked so similar once you got past the differences, who still wore his too?

Glancing back that way again as she stepped up to the bar, she set the amplifier down on the floor and slipped the guitar case off her shoulder, letting it slide down to lean against the bar as she leaned back against the rail herself. Jax was at the bar nearby. Sometimes it felt as though she'd know if it was him there even if she hadn't seen his back out of the corner of her eye as she set the gear down.

"You ever see a face you weren't never expectin' to see in a place you were startin' to think wasn't gonna throw you no more surprises?" she asked, turning away from the man who seemed more and more as if he really might be Marcus Deckard towards Jax. Then she saw past him to where his attention had obviously been drawn. An unfamiliar face to her, but clearly not to him. She couldn't recall ever seeing a look like that in his eyes from outside of it's focus.

"Well now . . ." she said, raising one eyebrow. "I guess you have."

[The Accountant]

Some distance from Elysium, in the dusty plains where only the blood, sweat, and tears from generations of tireless farmers could coax anything to grow from the burned soil, a lone tree defied both nature and the scorching sun by standing tall and green when it should have withered and died in the numerous droughts over the years. At only ten feet tall, with a twisted gray trunk that finished in a small peppering of spiny green leaves, the rider adjacent to the tree easily towered over it. To be fair to the struggling plant, both horse and man were unusually large specimens of their respective species.

The Accountant, a peculiar sight in a two piece suit mounted on the biggest steed he could find to rent in Elysium, visited the tree every time the Dancer came home. In his various trips to the moon, he'd seen and learned many things, but his core fundamentals remained unchanged. He still couldn't attribute any combination of evidence as to why people continued to live where they were when the ground would not sustain life without immense effort; to continue to live when, even on this very moon, there were more fertile, and more profitable areas to habituate. The attachments people formed with a simple patch of earth was baffling to one who had spent the past decade on the move.

To curb his constant desire to preach and advise the town's economic policies, he rode out on a rented steed and visited the tree whose stubbornness to live in unlivable conditions rivaled that of Elysium's citizens. It didn't make him understand, or change his opinion on matters such as his suggestion to open a spaceport to increase trade commerce, but the perseverance was admirable, and both had earned his respect.

“Stay strong, little tree,” he said. Both man and horse stood still for a moment more, stoic sihouettes on the sparse horizon of Jiangyin, before the tree was once again left standing alone with nothing but the dry winds as company.

[Round Jack Brannigan]

The Well - just outside

Jack embraced Counsuela with his right arm and his crooked smile drew higher.

The woman never having known Brannigan before his fall leaned into his hug,
“And how are you this evening, Round Jack?”

Squeezing her tighter, the old giant’s words tumbled from his lips like a glacier advance,
”Ammm haaapy.”

With a kiss for his cheek and another for his bearded chin, the woman departed, moving her warmth of spirit and soul to Gwen and Wentworth Reed.

Jack, in turn, made his way to the door of the Well just as a weathered and quite familiar hover carriage floated to a stop beside The Dancer vehicles. Without thought, his massive hand combed the Jiangyin atmo in a youth filled wave, and his blue eyes glowed at the sight of the driver.

Autumn Cooper exited the carriage before Jack could help her and moved as fast as her canes would allow until she was in the giant’s arms. With the tenderness of a father of daughters, he turned her face up to his and saw the tears she tried to hide.

Before he could ask, she answered his unspoken question,
“Just happy, John…just real happy.”

Jack nodded in complete understanding and together the star-coupled pair entered The Well.

[GrimJack]

Believe it or not this is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life, but effective immediately, I will be closing The Dancer and The Ares Shield. Administrative differences and personal time constraints are prompting this decision.

To everyone here, I have absolutely loved being a part of the characters and the stories we’ve told. I wanted to grow old with The Dancers but sometimes life has a different plan for us.

Specifically, I’d like to thank Jeth, Dave, Jax, oath, Tao, Pain, Charlie and Ertia for being the biggest damn heroes and partners with which I’ve ever worked. The characters you all created will live within me forever and like the crew of Serenity, they will continue to adventure and love.

I will stop in and continue to read the exploits of all the other wonderful ships on this board, and though I ‘never say never’, I feel that my boats are best left to memory. I ask that everyone respect the GMing of the characters I’m leaving behind, but I do understand that some of you will need to extract your characters from the threads in question.

Sorry to leave you all in a lurch, but with a three year old ‘Not so much a Baby’ Jayne and a new child on the way, this seems like a good time.

Enough with the speeches, GrimJack!

I love you guys…till the end of it all,

Greg