Mal-Simon, post-Mal-Gabe.

[badinlatin]

It's been an eventful week or so, thought-wise, for Mal. Lot of things to ponder over, not the least the topics on his list being his conversation with one Gabriel Tam.

This may be why he is heading down the stairs to the lounge and infirmary area, hoping to catch sight of Simon.

Comments

[simon_doctor]

Simon's about. Just coming out of the infirmary.

[badinlatin]

"Wèi, Doc - got a minute? Got, uh - I got something to run by ya."

[simon_doctor]

"Dang ran." He slows, and waits for Mal.

[badinlatin]

Might as well get to it, really.

"You know your father was in the bar a few days back, right? I had a conversation with 'im."

[simon_doctor]

"...Oh?"

[badinlatin]

"Went --" A furrowed eyebrow; he's still confused by it himself. "Well, actually."

A somewhat darker tone after a moment passes, when Mal looks down to a faded patch on the breast of his coat. "Asked me why I joined the Independents."

[simon_doctor]

There's a long pause.

"What did you tell him?"

[badinlatin]

"That there were no such things as volunteers. Not really.

"He seemed to follow well enough. Said he wanted to understand."

[simon_doctor]

A murmur: "I expect he did."

[badinlatin]

A crooked sort of smile.

"Can't imagine the stories 'bout Browncoats were ever all that favorable on Osiris."

[simon_doctor]

"Not as such, no."

A pause.

"We talked, a little. He's about to start the first stages of his campaign."

[badinlatin]

"He told me as much when I spoke with him.


"He's sure...confident."

[simon_doctor]

"He's very determined."

Simon glances away.

"And he's not doing this lightly. It's going to cost him a great deal. Even if he wins."

[badinlatin]

"Imagine that's so."

When you love somethin'

Scratching one finger at his temple, "Just thought you should know that things flew smooth last time we had a palaver is all."

[simon_doctor]

"Thank you. That's ... good to know."

And it is, surprisingly good; to hear that the two halves of his life may actually be able to meet without grating at each other like two edges of a poorly-set broken bone.

[badinlatin]

Or like opposing political sides, perhaps.

"He still drinks piss-poor whiskey," Mal gruffs, feeling like he somehow has lost footing somewhere.

[simon_doctor]

"...No, I imagine that hasn't changed."

[badinlatin]

Footing Regained.

"Ng Ka Pe is better anyhow."