Nov. 24th, 2008 10:05 am
badinlatin: (malinara onna bed)
Mal walks into Shuttle One from the cargo bay and it takes Inara less than a second to question him. 'What is it?' she asks, because anything that makes Mal slide the shuttle hatch closed with as much useless force as he just did (one of the joys of pressurized doors -- no slamming), something must have happened.

Mal recounts the conversation from downstairs with Simon and Kaylee in a rush. After he finishes, complete with several 'What the hell was I supposed to say? Ain't like I can stop 'em' and a reinstituted habit of pacing, there's not much left to do except stare at Inara and wait for a reaction.
badinlatin: (bemused/irritated)
Mal's walking, to add to the 'talking' bit he's been doing since he woke up after Simon patched up the wound which landed him in the Milliways infirmary. He had asked Inara to go out and get something to eat - for the both of them, because asking something for himself is the only way to get her to leave sometimes - and gets up, digging out a shirt from the pile of clothes someone brought over for him. He leaves the shirt untucked, and gives up on suspenders for the day.


Feb. 21st, 2006 03:17 pm
badinlatin: (Nate and Morena)
A fair amount of people have seen Malcolm Beauregard Reynolds do what he has to.

A smaller group of people have seen Mal 'Captain Mu Ji Tightpants' Reynolds remember to be kind and jovial to others, and that sometimes - sometimes - it is okay to not be 100 percent on-guard all the time.

There is only one person that gets to see Mal with purple fingernails.

"If Kaylee gets a hold o' this, I promise you---"

"Promise me what?" Inara retorts, half-smug and half just too damned gleeful for Mal's own good. "What possible recourse do you have? Threaten to take down my cat painting?"

Mal darts his eye to the somewhat faded cat picture that Kaylee had dared him to make for Inara a while back; honestly, it still surprises Mal that he did it, and that Inara was happy to see it.

Looking back down at the dark purple veneer over his permanently cracked and unkempt nails - Inara had even tried to clean them up a bit, to no avail - he laughs to himself, relaxing further into the pillow he propped behind his back against her headboard.

"What's so funny?" Inara asks, finishing his right thumbnail before moving to the left hand.

"David'd be laughin' his ruttin' pigu off at me at the moment is all."

"Well - Kaylee did tell you you look good in purple. Would David agree?"

"Probably, though I think he'd be laughing more that I let you do this in the first place."

"You didn't let me, I demanded."

"Exactly; womenfolk get their way wi' me apparently."

"Exactly, Companion Novice Thomas."

"Bi zui."

It was Inara's turn to laugh then, almost making her heavy curtains rustle with the noise.
badinlatin: (Nate and Morena)
[OOC: After this.]

Shortly after greeting the audience at the end of the ceremony, Aluthra leads Mal and Inara both through the back doorway of the altar room, pulling back two very heavy curtains to a very unassuming door. Eyeing Aluthra with more than a little surprise, she simply smiles again and lets the drapes close after she walks back out again.

Mal opens the door - this one having an actual doorknob connected to it - to a heavily candlelit bedchamber, complete with fresh fruit across one table and a canopied bed in the center. Giving Inara a heavy-lidded smirk, Mal picks her up by her waist and kisses her as he had wanted to all throughout the ceremony.
badinlatin: (chinese writing)
It certainly was a pretty set-up, Mal had to say. As Inara flew Shuttle One after splitting off from Serenity, it wasn't more than ten minutes or so until the House Madrassa Temple came into view.

According to Inara, temples are all pretty much the same, according to what house they are affiliated with. House Madrassa seems particularly addicted to scrollwork and lotus motifs, red and gold everywhere. Even the docking bay had a white and red lotus design painted into the floor.

Once the shuttle was locked, Mal pulls the hatch door back, immediately catching sight of an older woman waiting some distance off from the door.

Mal bows shortly to her, feeling immediately out of his depth and looking awkwardly to Inara or Zoe for help.
badinlatin: (why did you leave?)
Mal has gotten spoiled. Inara's bed in her shuttle is the most comfortable one on the ship, and now the one at Crowley's he's sharing with her ain't too bad either. He doesn't even really care all that much that he should be asleep - dreams aren't the things keeping him awake, at least. Not tonight.

It's New Year's. Christmas. Everything's starting over again - he has to look at it that way; a lot of things to look forward to, this go-round. Zoe and Wash's little girl - he decided last night to add purple trim to the blanket he's making, just for a little more girliness.

Mal almost gloats to himself. I get to spoil 'er without havin' to do any o' the dirty work.

Once he gets tired of lying on his back, staring at the ornate patterns of the ceiling tiles in the room, Mal again drapes one arm over Inara's slim waist, pulling her gently, slowly closer to him.

A lot of this to look forward to as well, Mal grins.

A kiss to the back of her neck. "Merry Christmas, baobei."
badinlatin: (nekkid pensive)
After the conversation he had with Kaylee, Mal's had a list of questions rolling around in his head.

This may be why he's knocking on the hatch to Inara's shuttle instead of walking straight in.
badinlatin: (Mal Inara angst)
The door back to Serenity releases Mal facing the hatch to his bunk. After such a weary night, Mal is torn between crawling into bed in Inara's shuttle or just simply falling into his bunk.

Option Two is easier, so he climbs down his ladder slowly, only to almost fall off when he sees Inara asleep on his rough bunk - in the most raggedy shirt he owns, no less.

He can't help but smile at the sight, but grimaces once he sees her start to stir. She sleeps too lightly.

"Mal?" she questions, sitting up.

"I'm fine, 'Nara," Mal shushes her, slowly pulling off his boots after flopping in a chair. Next are his jacket and sweater, then gunbelt, changing his pants into black cotton ones he sleeps in while in his bunk.

"No you're not."

Mal sighs heavily, sitting aside Inara to give her a kiss. They don't speak again until they are both as close to each other as can be necessitated by a small bunk and a numbed heart, if only for the night.

Inara lifts her head again to look at Mal, straight into his eyes. They haven't gone back to blue yet.

"What is it?"

Mal gives Inara a smile, letting it break after a moment. "Susan...Bert, Alain...Sheemie.

They went home."
badinlatin: (facepalm)
The sketchpad had pretty high quality paper in it.

This is why Mal is grimacing at the small pile of balled up pieces of it in a corner around his wastebasket.

If he's gonna make good on Kaylee's dare, he's gonna do it right, gorramit.

Picture finally done, Mal leaves his bunk and makes short work of the distance between there and Inara's shuttle. Walking in without knocking, he thrusts the piece of folded paper into Inara's confused hands without speaking.
badinlatin: (big damn hero)
There had been no sight of the Alliance when Serenity descended into atmo about 70 miles or so away from the Training House. The hairs on the back of Mal's neck were still standing up though. He's always felt that prickling at times when others are watching.

As soon as Serenity is hidden away, Mal flies off to the Training House in Inara's old shuttle.

Getting in was easier than expected. This did not cheer Mal at all, even if he did smile to himself at seeing Inara in the flesh again.

Still in the oversized red shawl that Inara had left in her shuttle, Mal kneels beside her, head still covered.

"Dear Buddha, please send me a pony, and a plastic rocket, and ---"

badinlatin: (Mal Inara Hands)
"They love you," Sheydra tells Inara, her blond hair falling off her shoulders as she gives Inara her tea with a smile. "The girls, I mean. They've learned more from you since you've been here than the rest of us could show them in two years."

Inara smiles back gracefully, accepting the tea. "They're very sweet. But they're not Companions."

A playful scoff from the older woman, offering, "You've no hope for them? Junk the lot, start anew?"

In return, Inara glares a wee bit before continuing, "On Sihnon we started training at twelve. Years of dicipline and preparation before the physical act of pleasure was even mentioned. Most of these girls--"

"They're all of good family, the highest academic standards---"

"Control," Inara interrupted. "Control was the first lesson. And the last and these worlds are not like the Central Planets. There is barbarism dressed up in the most civil weeds. Men of the highest rank who don't know the difference between a Companion and a common whore. It's unsafe."

"All the more reason the girls look to you," Sheydra says again, finishing her tea. Putting her cup down alongside the pot, she continues, "You came out here alone, before the Alliance ever thought to establish a House this remote. You've seen so much. You're a figure of great romance to them."

"Great romance has nothing to do with being a Companion, Sheydra," Inara curtly replies. "You should know better."

"Well, I'm not the one who had a torrid affair with a pirate." A not-so-small grin.

Inara uses all of her training to not sputter her tea out over Sheydra. "A who? With a what?"

Sheydra grins widely. "It's the talk of the House. The girls all trade stories in the dorms at night."

"I didn't...have a pirate..." Really? Inara forces an image out of her brain of Mal on a ship of the oceans of Earth-that-Was, all...oooh, stop doing that.

"In one of the stories you make love in a burning temple. I think that's my favorite."

Inara sighs loudly. If only. "This is unbearable. Captain Reynolds is no pirate; he's a petty thief. And he...told me to leave didn't want me there in the first place." Inara now is attempting very hard to avoid eye contact with Sheydra.

"A year on his shuttle and he never wanted you there. I somehow doubt that." She's still smiling, gorram her...did I just think gorram?

Inara regains some fraction of her composure and waves her hand dismissively. "Go away. We're no longer friends. You're a stranger to me now."

Sheydra does nothing except laugh aloud and rub a hand amiably across Inara's shoulder. "I do love to watch you boil. Don't worry; the stories will fade. And your Captain Reynolds has probably gotten himself blown up by this time."

Sheydra, seeing one of the students in the classroom behind Inara wave to her for assistance, smiles in passing to Inara before leaving.

Inara, looking out over the mountain landscape of such a beautiful training house, ponders Sheydra's last words. "Yes," she says to herself with a wistful voice, "That would be just like him."

badinlatin: (pretty)
Mal's right hand is still shaking. Shaking of death and Reavers and surrender and maybe he really was a kĕwù de lăo bàojūn for bringing them all out here.

He just couldn't break in front of them. Never. Not about death. This was the part they knew him for; "Mal's been through the war; he can do this part, no problem." Inara was something different; Kaylee knew about that, if not everyone else. But Death - He knows Death, and Death knows him. Can't fear it.

Mal goes back to his bunk, quicker than anyone else at the site of the beacon. His world doesn't start literally spinning until he climbs down the hatch and lies down on his bed to calm himself. He doesn't notice himself putting his holster on his chair. He does notice the fact that he has no more of Simon's soothers.

God, was Mal nervous. Lilly. Date. I’m gonna screw something up, please God don’t let me say something stupid.

A quick rap at the wooden plank door reveals a stern older gentleman in a black business suit. Why does he always have to look like he’s going to a funeral?

"Mr. Reynolds," the butler answered the door with a crisp nod of the head. "Miss Lilly is in the parlor awaiting your arrival."

"Xiexi--" Mal corrects himself quickly. "Thank you sir." He'll never figure out what it is with the highbrow folk around here and their distaste for Mandarin. It's more fun than English, to Mal's ears. With a quick straightening of his dress jacket his mother had insisted upon, Mal turns into the parlor.

"Lilly. Wow." To Hell with manners.

Lilly, petite brunette curls resting on top of her shoulders, shifted in her dress, blushing thoroughly under Mal's gaze.

"You look beautiful, baobei," Mal slips into Chinese, "Never seen you in a dress before." Mal does not add that this is because they are normally wrestling or gallavanting on his mother's ranch within earshot of the butler, but the continuous flush of Lilly's cheeks shows him she knows what he's talking about.

Turning to the butler as Mal clutches Lilly's hand, Mal exclaims, "I'll have 'er back, usual time, sir!"

Mal and Lilly changed out of their clothes quickly, into something far more appropriate for the town fair. Just two average eighteen year olds out for a stroll, enjoying life.

The shooter games were what attracted to Lilly first. Because she could make Mal win them. "C'mon, Malcolm, you know you wanna try!" she'd jibed. "You ain't gonna learn nothin' if you don't see it through experience first!" Mal didn't need experience with these games; most of the barkers saw him coming and preemptively gave him a prize for the lady if he tried to play at their table. He was Bad For Business.

Handing a yellow stuffed cat to Lilly with a smile, Mal continued to walk around the annual carnival with a grin.

badinlatin: ('time')
It's the black again. No stars, though. Just...nothing. Which pisses Mal off.

We're gonna die.

Bendis? What the gorram - Bendis, you here?

No response. Not that Mal expected one, but he would have liked it.

After his mind moved on from trying to find his dead war buddy, there is a pinprick of light that zooms toward Mal's face, almost bowling him over.

The first thing he smells is the gunpowder. Then the blood. Always the gunpowder first; Mal thinks if it weren't for the gunpowder waking his nose up the blood wouldn't smell so bad.

Where is this? Everyone's moving so fast that Mal can't even make out if this is Hera or Ita, or any one o' the 5 or so planets and moons he fought campaigns on.

He can't see Zoe anywhere.

Gun flying out of his holster, Mal ducks behind sandbags to block himself from the volley coming in over the fancy steel barriers the Alliance battalion had erected in an unbelievably short time. Oh, how Mal wishes he had some of those grenades Mal knows Jayne keeps near the head of his bunk.

Jayne? Who the hell's Jayne?

Cannon-fire; Mal rolls away from it briskly, straightening himself to peer over the bags for an assessment of the situation. More cannon-fire. Great. Moving again, Mal stops when he hits someone.

"What's our statu--" The soldier next to Mal doesn't have any status except dead. And the status of his head being blown off.

badinlatin: (Default)
Mal shouldn't be allowed to think. It always gets him into trouble.

Thief, Companion, Thief, Companion...

Mal heads from his bunk toward Shuttle One, entering without knocking.

badinlatin: (Default)
The past few weeks have been the happiest Mal's had in quite awhile. He tries not to chant that to himself too much, as he is well aware his luck usually runs out after doing so.

Kaylee spends most of her day in the engine room. Mal now spends most of his day in Shuttle One.

On this day in particular, Mal just so happens to be sleeping in late. An idea he has gotten used to recently. Inara has already gotten up though, but Mal's sleeping too soundly to have noticed.

badinlatin: (flashback)
"But I'll be here when you're done..."

The first conscious thought that occurs to Captain Reynolds is that he is very cold, and that this condition might be due to the fact he has no shirt on and is lying facedown on an examination table.


Mal quickly attempts getting up - too quickly - and immediately falls back down on the table, pain zipping through his right side.

Once it passes through Mal's head that he should look around this room he's in, he might see Simon's meticulously-ordered medical supplies throughout this sterile room.

And the person about to enter into it.

badinlatin: (man of honor)
He had wanted to do this in a different way. Any other way. Doing it like this made him feel like a coward.

Maybe that's what he is. At least with Inara.

Mal reaches the hatch to Inara's shuttle, reaches up to knock...and lets his arm fall again.

Leaving just a plain white box and a note )

in the shape of an flower on top.


badinlatin: (Default)
Malcolm Beauregard Reynolds

July 2017



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