Raven-Mal. AU BEYOND ALL BELIEF.

[badinlatin]

August Thirtieth, 2569. Mal's 83rd birthday.

Ambling into Milliways as fast as one can while leaning on a titanium walking stick, Mal smiles to himself. Fifty years. Fifty years of trials and tribulations and everything in the black getting thrown at him, and he can still come to the Bar at the End of the Universe; on his birthday no less.

Not immediately seeing anyone around that he knows, he pulls up a comfortable chair by the fire and pulls out his size 10 circular knitting needles and the beginnings of what looks to be an afghan. It's not to keep, he swears.

Comments

[creator_raven]

Several minutes later, once he seems to be well absorbed in his work, glitter gently drifts down from above.

Glitter, and a very black feather.

[badinlatin]

Mal's lips tighten to the straight line that anyone could recognize as Mal's "Don't Mess With Me" face. Even if he is smiling.

Looking upward, Mal picks up one of his favorite size 7 straight needles, shaking it toward the bird.

"You come down here proper, Niao, or I will practice some skeetshootin' in here; don't think that I won't."

[creator_raven]

There is a rather loud thump as the bundle of feathers drops to the ground.

Or rather, as his boots hit the floor.

"I thought that required shooting small clay disks? Perhaps I was mistaken."

He grins.

"It has been known to happen, I think."

[badinlatin]

"Shootin' skeet started with real birds, actually." Mal returns to the afghan.

"What have you been doin' with yourself? Still obsessed with the cookies?"

[creator_raven]

Raven wrinkles his nose.

"Sometimes I eat chocolate. Also marmite. It is a question of tastes, perhaps."

[badinlatin]

"Are you the one that's been givin' Simon 'nd Kaylee's grandkid too much chocolate? I know Cora's around here somewhere..." Mal cranes his neck around the chair to see if the bouncy 10 year old is behind him.

[creator_raven]

Raven merely smiles.

"It is possible, yes. Though not definite. I am cagey, I think."

He attempts to look knowledgeable.

Mostly he just looks silly.

It is the grin, possibly, and the hair.

[badinlatin]

"Better not irritate me, else I tell Kaylee you're the one wirin' up Cora. She is not someone taken lightly, dong ma?" Mal smiles anyway, and brushes the glitter out of his yarn.

"Gonna take me up on them classes I offered ya?" Mal motions to the extra set of needles in his pocket.

[creator_raven]

Raven blinks.

"It is not always me, I do not think. She is very persuasive."

He gently flicks the extra set of needles.

"I could try again, perhaps. It is just that stabbing oneself in the leg is not entirely pleasant. Even when one is mostly clay."

[badinlatin]

"...I can give you plastic ones that won't hurt none?"

[creator_raven]

Raven blinks at him.

"Then I will merely poke myself in the leg. It will be an interesting change, perhaps."

He looks thoughtful.

[badinlatin]

"Well let's try then -- " Mal groans audibly as he digs out the plastic needles and some green yarn. Mal really is an old man, you know.

"First thing you need to learn is how to tie a slipknot."

[creator_raven]

It was the wrinkles that gave him away, truthfully.

Sometimes Raven pays attention to things.

"I am good with knots, perhaps."

He listens to Mal, solemnly.

[badinlatin]

Mal demonstrates a slipknot, adding, "And once this gets on the needle, all you need is to make loops 'round the needle for however long you want the bottom part o' whatever you're makin' to be..."

[creator_raven]

Raven tries.

Raven tries very hard.

Unfortunately, the pattern is simple, and part of him absently works from the bottom up, as well as from the position of his needles onward.

They do not match so very well.

Things are soon rather hopelessly tangled.

[badinlatin]

"Raven," Mal whines, taking the needles from him. "For a great 'n powerful being and all, you are very much not with the good on somethin' so simple."

[creator_raven]

"The needles get in the way."

Raven's voice does not go up an octave in irritation.

Really.

[badinlatin]

"Uh huh, okay. Fine. You teach me somethin' then." Mal smirks at Raven, the smile wrinkles having been defined and intensified with age.

[creator_raven]

Raven blinks.

"You would like to set things on fire, perhaps?"

There is no wicked smile.

What face is Mal looking at?

[badinlatin]

Maybe Mal's ears failed him, so he waits to see if his mind conjures up a different translation.

Nope. He got it right.

Mal matches the evil grin of Raven.

"Can I light the end of my walkin' stick on fire? That'd be so shiny, Raven."

"It's my birthday, you know." Added in case this helps.

[creator_raven]

Raven nods.

"It is a simple thing, in its way. Hold it like so--"

He demonstrates. It's not terribly awkward, really.

"Wave the end in something like an elongated figure-eight with a curve--"

Another demonstration.

"And it should go."

And it does. The end of the walking stick blazes brightly for a moment, then fades.

Raven lights cigarettes in much the same fashion. Only smaller.

[badinlatin]

Mal takes the walking stick back eagerly from Raven, mimicking the wide figure that he had demonstrated. On the first try, nothing. On the second...

"Wow," Mal oogles himself as he's holding the flaming stick, which fades out quickly. Mal lights it again. For practice, obviously.

"Is the fire real or just an illusion?"

[creator_raven]

"Best not to stick it in a haystack, I think."

[badinlatin]

Mal lights the end a third time, waving it from side to side a bit dangerously.

"'Nara'll never believe this."

[creator_raven]

Raven laughs.

"Just do not hit her dresses. That will not go well, I do not think."

Raven is, quite possibly, a Menace.

He is proud of this.