big_damn_quests | round 6 challenges 1-4

Author: frodolyn
Character: Zoe Washburne
Author's Note: September has been a bit crazy- not to mention my Zoe a bit terse- but I finally managed to get everything typed up and even edited a touch! I have all four challenges here including a couple of alternatives. Enjoy : )

Title: Fears? (along with alt.)
rating: pg
Challenge: Round 6, Challenge 1--Describe your greatest childhood fears or nightmares.
word count: 362

Describe your greatest childhood fears or nightmares.

1: Fears?

She looks me in the eye unflinchingly. The seconds tick by sluggishly – she’s making me nervous, making me wish I could see out a window. I’m feeling claustrophobic here in this room with this woman. I don't want to have to remind her again of our agreement with her captain – that she must answer every question truthfully and to the best of her abilities- she knows the rules, and now she plays the game.

I wipe away a bead of sweat from my forehead with the backs of my fingers in an attempt to be discrete. She looks so bloody relaxed. Her perfectly sculpted arms folded over her equally sculpted breasts. Oh god – I hope she didn’t notice me noticing her breasts.

I’ve heard stories about this woman- some from her crewmates, some from my fellow interviewers. Her file is almost as thick as her captains- no small feat. I have been warned profusely against making any wrong move in her presence – apparently one officer almost had his eyes gauged out after suggesting that Reavers do not in fact exist. Her file says that her husband was killed by those savages – murdered. She is a widow- career military – survived Serenity Valley – and was raised on a ship during dangerous and unsettled times. I would really rather ask someone else – anyone else- these absurd questions. I clear my throat – it’s my job – and ask again.

“Please describe your childhood nightmares or fears.”

“Do I look,” she snaps back suddenly, her voice almost causing me to leap out of my chair – “like a woman with many fears?”

I open my mouth- change my mind- and check off the box next to the question.

1(b)- alternative
I don't remember much about growin’ up. Certainly don't remember being afraid. My father didn’t raise me that way – he bred nothing but strength in me.

Till death touched us.

When we buried our first crewmate – knew I would always be losing another. War is different, people fall all the time – but now that I got me a crew again, the old fear is settling in. Always gonna be burying something.

Title: Enigma
rating: pg
Challenge: Round 6, Challenge 2--Describe your mother. What was she like and how did she shape you?
Word Count: 412

2: Describe your mother. What was she like and how did she shape you?

“Describe your mother and how she shaped you.” I ask with a curiosity feigned before but not so today. It’s theorized that woman – people in general but most of all women- are greatly influenced by their parents and specifically their mothers. The type of adult one becomes often mirrors or at least reflects the persona of the parent. Other things such as ones relationship choices, the quality of ones marriage, and ones relationship with their children are also greatly influenced by parents. I can say that with most of my subjects here, through becoming acquainted with them I have also met their parents.

However- no so with this woman. Zoë Alynne Washburne – her face is a mask of stone, but I see the flicker beneath. She’s suffered – she’s come through it- or else is still immersed in it – it is nearly impossible to tell what her impassible mask conceals. I find myself wondering if her mother was as much an enigma or if her life’s circumstances have completely removed her from the woman who raised her.

“She was a military doctor. Raised my brother and me real good.” She tells me flatly- no emotional embellishment or even an inclination to continue. Perhaps she doesn’t think she has to.

“Please continue.” I urge.

She rolls her eyes a little and shifts in her chair. “She rode us pretty hard – tried to make sure no harm came to us. But harm has a way of finding a person.”

My mind is spinning- trying to think of ways to keep her talking. “Did you admire her?”

“Course I did.” she nods a little- “she was strong, smart- she showed me a world about being a woman and a wife.” She seems to realize my trick- scowling- this is far more than I – or any of my predecessors- have been able to get out of her. Her briefly animated fade falls back into slumber – her mouth becoming a hard line. All emotion drained from her – even her eyes. It is as though her words have escaped against her will and now that they’ve been released into the open she must learn to coincide with them – or at the very least, acknowledge their presence.

Many minutes slip by with nothing else forthcoming – but my curiosity has not been quenched.

“And what happened to her?” I ask carefully.

She blinks – that’s all – hardly a pause for thought – and I am surprised with even that small reaction. “She died.”

Title: A Woman
Rating: PG
Challenge: Round 6, Challenge 3--Have you ever had a teacher who changed your life? When and how?
Word Count: 51

3: Have you ever had a teacher who changed your life? When and how?

No greater teacher than life- my daddy used to tell me – his father told him that but I suspect that somewhere down the line was a woman who said it. Must be – since it’s so damn true.

Title: Breaking point (and alternative)
Rating: PG
Challenge: Round 6, Challenge 4 - Have you ever been surprised (either positively or negatively) by your limits?
(a/n i originaly read that as breaking point rather than limits - or at least that's how i remembered it when writing - so it's a bit geared towards that- sorry 'bout that)

4: Have you ever been surprised (either positively or negatively) by your limits? When and how

Twice.

Once- in the valley. When the fighten was all done and all that was left was people waiting to die. Most people around me ate their guns, when the ammo ran out they found other ways – or else, just waited to starve. But I never got that way. I never wanted to die. And I didn’t.

Then- after Miranda , if I had stopped long enough to think maybe I would have wanted that- nearly got there once or twice- but life always floods back on you and you remember- or you hope to god- you can piece your life back together. You can laugh again, smile again, maybe even love again.

Maybe someday I’ll reach my breaking point- can’t imagine what it’ll be that finally does it.

4.b: Alternative

I’ve had more cause t o break than most. I still surprise myself every morning when I get myself out of bed.

Something ever does break me- hate to think what that could be.