milliways_bar | Enter Mal Reynolds.

Enter Mal Reynolds.

The hatch opens and Mal rights himself, somewhere in the back of his mind double-checking that his gun is still on his hip. The corridor wasn't a corridor anymore, and instead of seeing anyone he recognized he saw a wide expanse of people, and...rats? Blinking, wondering if he had kissed anyone lately, Mal came to the realization that he was perfectly capable of eloquently explaining his confusion at this particular juncture.

"Huh."

If he recognized nothing else, he recognized a bar in the corner opposite to the door he had just walked through. At least this place has one. Find a stool, figure out where you are. Good plan.

[OOC: First ever intro post for mun. >.O; Gentleness appreciated?]

[[Summary: Snow gives Mal all the necessary information, Mal chats up Richard and tries Scotch, enters into a bit of a ~~still ongoing~~ dancing around with Ace, and begins a convo with Raph. And then there is River, Roland, and the bit where Mal finds out what gunslingers are and all that. Yeah.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Watching like a hawk, actually. Or maybe like a great cat. She's not sure what that other bloke had gotten up to to scare Wash so badly, but she's not about to allow a repeat.

Glass gets placed back down on the bar, and a sideways glance tells him that whoever this woman is is still watchin' him like she got somethin' to say. Might as well let her say it.

*Sits down in the seat across from her chair* "Hello."

"Hullo." No, she doesn't really have much to say. Mostly because she doesn't know what she could say without giving her friends away, and yet still get the information she's looking for.

"Do I remind you of someone, miss? Cuz I know I am not that entertaining to look at from all the way over here."

Quick Ace! Distract the strange bloke!
"Nah. Just watchin'. How do you know you're not interesting from across the room?" It's not like she can ask him if obnoxious hawaiian shirts mean anything to him. Or little plastic dinosaurs. Or even geese juggling. She's not entirely sure what she can ask. Bother.

[ooc: Sorry! First night = reaaallly fast. Eek!]

"Heard tell I'm not all that entertaining...Maybe you can help me out here; people here are a little more interesting than I generally appreciate, but I have a feeling people I know are around here."

Ace looks wary.
"Do you now? How very interesting." Well blast... what is this supposed to mean?

She knows somethin'...

"A friend of mine would probably enjoy it here a lot. Works on my crew as a pilot. If he's been in here, you'd 've seen im; shirts that make him look like he got trapped by some crazy space creatures, flowers and such."

"Huh. Sounds like a character." She's proud of how nonchalant she sounds, even as her heart freezes. Wash They can't have Wash. She saw the scars. She's going to need a lot more than a physical description to get her to say anything. Anyone with a decent picture could think up an excuse like that.

"He's nothin' if not amusing. Tells the best stories though; one 'bout geese juggling that you would never believe unless you knew him enough to tell he wasn't kidding."

Ace bltes her lip, torn, before realizing that looks rather guilty and goes back to the slightly inadequate poker face. He's gotta be one of the good guys, right? He knows about the geese.
But what if the geese story was common knowledge among nasty gits? How would she know?
"Geese, huh?" Oy!

"For a conversation partner, I'm definitely the one sayin' all the words here." Rises from his seat across from Ace. "Sorry for the trouble; I'll go find 'im my own self; gorram Wash is probably still on the boat..."

Oh, bloody sodding hells.
"Just out of idle curiosity... what's the name of your... mmm... boat?" She uses his word, instead of Wash's more proper 'ship', just in an attempt to be sly. Poor thing. She'd really like to meet the rest of Wash's crewmates, but it's not like they come with nametags.

"Serenity." Harder look. "Now you get to tell me why you wanted to know."

Oh, blast it all. Why can't Wash be in the bar when she needs him?

Alright, unfair question. He has been in the bar when she really needs him. Just not when she wants him. Difference.

"Thought I might know it." She returns the look, defiantly. The answer's true, as far as it goes.

"You do know it. *And* you know my pilot. So by now you should have realized that I'm not here to do anything to anyone, so why not tell me what I need to know?"

[ooc: need to slowtime like crazy. Pick this up later hopefully?]

"What is it you need to know?" Ace hedges. Not confirming, not denying. She searches for something that a supposed captain of Wash's ship would know that the git's of Wash's galaxy wouldn't, and can't think of one good definite answer. Next time she sees Wash, she'll going to ask for passwords or something.

(ooc: Slowtime's fine. G'night!)

"What I need to know is why you won't tell me what you know 'bout my pilot. I'm guessin' the best I'm to get out of this conversation is dancin' about with words." Slight scoff. "You would probably like 'im, anyway; 'cept you'd never hold a candle to him in comparison to Zoe."

"If you were who you say you are, you'd know why I'm not telling you what you want to know." Is her retort, but his last comment gives her something to work on. If only she can figure out a way to phrase it.

Great, another person who thinks I should know more than I do.

"Best not be assuming too much; I'm usually the last person in on a situation that I didn't cause my own self.

"I don't have any time to keep talkin' with you and if you aren't goin' to trust me with all this information you've got me tellin' you - and congratulations with that, by the way - I'm off to find the rest of my crew. Maybe Zoe'll be more useful than her husband."

Still standing through the last part of the conversation, Mal picks up his long-empty glass and takes two steps away from Ace.

Gah. Wash is either going to laugh at her, or give her another reaming. Either way, she's in for it.
"Oy, mate! Keep your head down, yeah? Alliance folk have come into the bar." Even if this bloke is Alliance himself, it's not like he can do anything to her. Oh, he could try. It'd be a mistake. But if this bloke is who he says he is... a warning'd be good, right?

Sudden stop. Mal pivots around on his right heel and reclaims his seat across from Ace.

"Now we're getting to the part that I need to know. What do you know about the Alliance?" A quick look of anxiety flashes over his face, then disappears just as quickly.

Bloody sodding hells.
"Question first, mate. Gotta be sure you're you, right? You're the captain, so you should know... last week, Wash was frettin' over his wife again. Why?" Surely some Alliance spy wouldn't know about a cold. Surely.

Careful enough, ain't she?

"Zoe took to a cold pretty good when we finished up a job. Our doc told 'im to just let her lay out for a while, but he waited on her hand and foot. If only he paid that much attention on the bridge." Slight chuckle at the thought.

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