Mal-Wash, kinda OOM.

[badinlatin]

Mal loves his flask.

A lot.

It's so pretty, all inscribed with random patterns - intricate ones - of dents and scrapes, scuff marks and chips. And reflecting under the scant light of the stable lamps, the discolored silver throws of interesting oil-slick patterns.

For such things are interesting when it's your second flask full. And there's a bottle by your side you haven't touched yet.

Mal is grouchy.

Comments

[flybywash]

"Crutches," Wash decides. "'S why I've got 'em."

He makes a grab for them.

The next attempt to stand goes...about the same, but this time, Wash manages to splay the crutches wide enough apart to keep himself upright.

"There!"

He looks far too proud of himself right now.

[badinlatin]

Mal stands a bit easier as well, once Wash is upright.

He leaves the bottle, now down to its dregs, sitting next to the cot.

"Off we go, then."

[flybywash]

And you don't want to know how long it takes them to get back to the bar like this.

Really.

It's not like they're going to know how long it took in this state, either.