[Character Info]
|| Player Information ||
Name: Kel
Personal Journal: kellenanne
Time zone: PST (GMT-8)
Contact: kellenanne@gmail.com | gaerwn
Current Characters: to_rebel
|| Character Information ||
Fandom: Firefly
Name: Mal Reynolds
Age: mid-thirties; canon is less than clear.
Canon Point: post-series, post-Serenity
Is this character dead?No
History: A somewhat lacking history.
Additional non-character specific history (aka episode guides and movie synopsis) can be linked upon request once I find the links. I know they exist somewhere.
[Optional] Character Development and Relationship Transfer from previous RP: n/a
Personality:
Mal Reynolds is a complex man, though on the surface, he seems far from such. A quick look will reveal a self-styled captain of a cargo ship who tends to moonlight as a thief. He's abrasive, loud, not caring much at all for any sort of social graces, and even sometimes violent. He gets the job done -- "to the job" is a saying he's been known to throw out from time to time -- and, if you want something transported or stolen and you have enough to pay well, then he's your man. And, hey, if he can stick it to the Alliance in the process, he might even consider doing the job just for that.
... Well, no. Money's more important. It keeps his ship in the sky and keeps him free.
That is what it's about, to Mal: being free. His moral compass is a little dodgy sometimes and he's not what one would call even-tempered or classy, but he is free. Serenity is more than his home; his ship is a symbol of the freedom he's bled for. He'll pour all he has into her -- and likewise, into the crew that keeps her flying. Somewhere along the way, this rag-tag crew he put together has become less crew and more family. Even despite protests and seeming action or word to the contrary, Mal will put his life on the line to protect any one of them. (Or, as the case may be, threaten one of them -- Jayne -- if he so much as breathes a word of betrayal again.) He's said it once or twice: you do something to his crew, you do it to him and he will repay. With interest, most likely.
Mal is a natural-born leader, shaped by war, and with a protective streak a mile wide. He doesn't care much for people he doesn't know, but woe to anyone who raises a hand to him or his. For all his thieving ways and desire to "stick it to the man," Mal does have an ingrained sense of right and wrong. Somewhat. He once found out that the cargo he had been paid to steal was a load of medical supplies bound for a desperate village; at risk to himself and his crew, he took it back. On the other hand, though, he will shoot a man without warning if he feels it's in his best interest. (He'll even walk into a duel to defend a woman's honor, but turn around and cut down the same woman for her chosen profession as a Companion.)
He lacks faith; faith in anything really. He strives to be free and to keep his crew free, but he has no faith in God, in religion, in people, or in government. The defeat at Serenity Valley, where his platoon -- and all the Independents, for that matter -- was crushed by the Alliance also seemed to crush whatever faith Mal had. Despite this, though, he'll still fight for the few people around him, and he seems to have some small sense of faith in a person's fundamental goodness. While he doesn't often give someone the benefit of the doubt, he does tend to approach people with the hope that they'll be honest with him. He's not naive, but by any means, and he'll be quick to judge if a person turns on him, but he seems to hold onto that hope (perhaps even faith) that a person is, generally, a good person.
He doesn't even really see himself as a leader: "Wind blows northerly," he says, "I go north. Now maybe that ain't a man to lead, but they have to follow." Somehow, he manages. Call it charisma. Call it talent. Hell, call it threats and fear, but he does it and his crew will follow him straight into hell. He'll repay that by watching their backs. Hey, according to him, it's love that keeps a ship "in the air when she ought to fall down."
Skills/Abilities:
Mal Reynolds is one hell of a shot. Put a gun in his hand and he'll generally shoot what he's aiming for. (Canon gives us... a lot of examples. Most notable might be shooting through a rope while on a moving vehicle, or perhaps walking onto his ship and dispatching someone holding River hostage with one shot without stopping.) He knows his way around weapons, though he's not so great with a blade. The pointy end goes in the other person and that's about all he knows. Give him a gun or a blunt object and he's going to be a force to reckon with. If fighting dirty and landing a mean punch are skills, Mal's got those down. Practice does make perfect, after all. As the leader of his crew, Mal does also have a fairly strategic mind; half of his thievery involves cons and plans that take a fair bit of thought to pull off. He's not the smartest man in the black, but he's smart enough to keep Serenity flying and keep his crew safe.
He has been known to back himself into a corner, though, sometimes by simply not thinking of every possibility that might come up. More often, it's simply a matter of him being too stubborn to admit that he may have possibly been wrong. "Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead" is very much Mal's default setting. While admirable in some cases, it can lead to him being forced into a situation that is, quite frankly, over his head. If he's doing it to protect his crew (or possibly avenge, if the situation arose), there's nothing he won't try -- and that could very well be the death of him.
First Person Sample:
[That string of Mandarin, whether one knows the language or not, conveys what Mal's thinking pretty obviously. Cursing is, of course, mostly in the tone, after all. He turned on the tablet with every intention of just addressing the populace at large with a fairly innocent question. That is, until he decided some shopkeep was trying to fleece him.]
Now I ain't here to cause problems, but I'll be finishin' what you dare to start, make no mistake, dong ma? My feet been on the ground too long to put up with this.
[He glares off-camera for a moment, then turns back toward the still-on tablet when he's satisfied the shopkeep isn't going to say another word.] I been here a little solid while now and if there's one thing I ain't seen, it's a native with personality. I'm 'bout to suggest a little target shooting.
[Whether he means the locals or just venting by harmless target shooting, it's up to the viewer to guess. He ain't sayin'.]
Third Person Sample:
Shoot first, never ask. It was a good philosophy to live by and one Mal Reynolds did his level best to stick to. Life, though, had a way of throwing a good many curve balls in one's direction and this current pile of go se was just the latest complication in a very long string of complications. As much as Mal would have liked to simply start throwing bullets around and call it done, this situation demanded far more subtlety than that. Mal was never very good at being subtle, which, unfortunately, completely explained why he currently had his gun trained on the one person who might actually give a damn. Well, at least, the guy with the pocketbook.
It was hard to say, though, considering how this job had gone. Double- and triple-crosses had ended up being so much a norm that Mal had absolutely no clue anymore who was even getting the delivery he had, much less who was paying him -- and that was the important part here. Of course, one had to be alive to be paid and with the three parties involved in the all the many and sundry double-crossing in the same room with the delivery boy, Mal wasn't actually sure how this was going to work out. All things considered, he probably should have lowered the weapon, but it just didn't sit right with him to not have a twitchy trigger finger when everyone else in the room was armed and extremely dangerous. Good ol' Mr. Pocketbook here had twitched first and that's where Mal's gun went.
There really was no accounting for the weapons trained on Mal's head. He was under the impression that they hadn't been all that impressed with their fearless leader. Without turning, Mal's gaze swept across what he could see of the room. Five other men, all armed and all seemingly on different sides here.
And Mal? Mal had the ace -- and he didn't mean the gun trained on Pocketbook's head. He still had the cargo.
He hoped he did, at any rate. Zoe was supposed to take care of that little hiccup; with a little luck, she had the unfortunate thief strung up and keelhauled by now. Luck, be kind. It was a vain hope; luck never was. Didn't mean Mal wouldn't play with it, though. "It occurs to me," he said loudly, "that there is some discussion to be had." His gaze alighted on the man sweating at the business end of his revolver. "Maybe you wanna start." He glanced at the company, took stock of the tension in the room, and once again returned his gaze to the man in front of him. "I'm feeling a mite boxed in. Makes a man twitchy, so you might wanna stick with being truthsome."
Name: Kel
Personal Journal: kellenanne
Time zone: PST (GMT-8)
Contact: kellenanne@gmail.com | gaerwn
Current Characters: to_rebel
|| Character Information ||
Fandom: Firefly
Name: Mal Reynolds
Age: mid-thirties; canon is less than clear.
Canon Point: post-series, post-Serenity
Is this character dead?No
History: A somewhat lacking history.
Additional non-character specific history (aka episode guides and movie synopsis) can be linked upon request once I find the links. I know they exist somewhere.
[Optional] Character Development and Relationship Transfer from previous RP: n/a
Personality:
Mal Reynolds is a complex man, though on the surface, he seems far from such. A quick look will reveal a self-styled captain of a cargo ship who tends to moonlight as a thief. He's abrasive, loud, not caring much at all for any sort of social graces, and even sometimes violent. He gets the job done -- "to the job" is a saying he's been known to throw out from time to time -- and, if you want something transported or stolen and you have enough to pay well, then he's your man. And, hey, if he can stick it to the Alliance in the process, he might even consider doing the job just for that.
... Well, no. Money's more important. It keeps his ship in the sky and keeps him free.
That is what it's about, to Mal: being free. His moral compass is a little dodgy sometimes and he's not what one would call even-tempered or classy, but he is free. Serenity is more than his home; his ship is a symbol of the freedom he's bled for. He'll pour all he has into her -- and likewise, into the crew that keeps her flying. Somewhere along the way, this rag-tag crew he put together has become less crew and more family. Even despite protests and seeming action or word to the contrary, Mal will put his life on the line to protect any one of them. (Or, as the case may be, threaten one of them -- Jayne -- if he so much as breathes a word of betrayal again.) He's said it once or twice: you do something to his crew, you do it to him and he will repay. With interest, most likely.
Mal is a natural-born leader, shaped by war, and with a protective streak a mile wide. He doesn't care much for people he doesn't know, but woe to anyone who raises a hand to him or his. For all his thieving ways and desire to "stick it to the man," Mal does have an ingrained sense of right and wrong. Somewhat. He once found out that the cargo he had been paid to steal was a load of medical supplies bound for a desperate village; at risk to himself and his crew, he took it back. On the other hand, though, he will shoot a man without warning if he feels it's in his best interest. (He'll even walk into a duel to defend a woman's honor, but turn around and cut down the same woman for her chosen profession as a Companion.)
He lacks faith; faith in anything really. He strives to be free and to keep his crew free, but he has no faith in God, in religion, in people, or in government. The defeat at Serenity Valley, where his platoon -- and all the Independents, for that matter -- was crushed by the Alliance also seemed to crush whatever faith Mal had. Despite this, though, he'll still fight for the few people around him, and he seems to have some small sense of faith in a person's fundamental goodness. While he doesn't often give someone the benefit of the doubt, he does tend to approach people with the hope that they'll be honest with him. He's not naive, but by any means, and he'll be quick to judge if a person turns on him, but he seems to hold onto that hope (perhaps even faith) that a person is, generally, a good person.
He doesn't even really see himself as a leader: "Wind blows northerly," he says, "I go north. Now maybe that ain't a man to lead, but they have to follow." Somehow, he manages. Call it charisma. Call it talent. Hell, call it threats and fear, but he does it and his crew will follow him straight into hell. He'll repay that by watching their backs. Hey, according to him, it's love that keeps a ship "in the air when she ought to fall down."
Skills/Abilities:
Mal Reynolds is one hell of a shot. Put a gun in his hand and he'll generally shoot what he's aiming for. (Canon gives us... a lot of examples. Most notable might be shooting through a rope while on a moving vehicle, or perhaps walking onto his ship and dispatching someone holding River hostage with one shot without stopping.) He knows his way around weapons, though he's not so great with a blade. The pointy end goes in the other person and that's about all he knows. Give him a gun or a blunt object and he's going to be a force to reckon with. If fighting dirty and landing a mean punch are skills, Mal's got those down. Practice does make perfect, after all. As the leader of his crew, Mal does also have a fairly strategic mind; half of his thievery involves cons and plans that take a fair bit of thought to pull off. He's not the smartest man in the black, but he's smart enough to keep Serenity flying and keep his crew safe.
He has been known to back himself into a corner, though, sometimes by simply not thinking of every possibility that might come up. More often, it's simply a matter of him being too stubborn to admit that he may have possibly been wrong. "Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead" is very much Mal's default setting. While admirable in some cases, it can lead to him being forced into a situation that is, quite frankly, over his head. If he's doing it to protect his crew (or possibly avenge, if the situation arose), there's nothing he won't try -- and that could very well be the death of him.
First Person Sample:
[That string of Mandarin, whether one knows the language or not, conveys what Mal's thinking pretty obviously. Cursing is, of course, mostly in the tone, after all. He turned on the tablet with every intention of just addressing the populace at large with a fairly innocent question. That is, until he decided some shopkeep was trying to fleece him.]
Now I ain't here to cause problems, but I'll be finishin' what you dare to start, make no mistake, dong ma? My feet been on the ground too long to put up with this.
[He glares off-camera for a moment, then turns back toward the still-on tablet when he's satisfied the shopkeep isn't going to say another word.] I been here a little solid while now and if there's one thing I ain't seen, it's a native with personality. I'm 'bout to suggest a little target shooting.
[Whether he means the locals or just venting by harmless target shooting, it's up to the viewer to guess. He ain't sayin'.]
Third Person Sample:
Shoot first, never ask. It was a good philosophy to live by and one Mal Reynolds did his level best to stick to. Life, though, had a way of throwing a good many curve balls in one's direction and this current pile of go se was just the latest complication in a very long string of complications. As much as Mal would have liked to simply start throwing bullets around and call it done, this situation demanded far more subtlety than that. Mal was never very good at being subtle, which, unfortunately, completely explained why he currently had his gun trained on the one person who might actually give a damn. Well, at least, the guy with the pocketbook.
It was hard to say, though, considering how this job had gone. Double- and triple-crosses had ended up being so much a norm that Mal had absolutely no clue anymore who was even getting the delivery he had, much less who was paying him -- and that was the important part here. Of course, one had to be alive to be paid and with the three parties involved in the all the many and sundry double-crossing in the same room with the delivery boy, Mal wasn't actually sure how this was going to work out. All things considered, he probably should have lowered the weapon, but it just didn't sit right with him to not have a twitchy trigger finger when everyone else in the room was armed and extremely dangerous. Good ol' Mr. Pocketbook here had twitched first and that's where Mal's gun went.
There really was no accounting for the weapons trained on Mal's head. He was under the impression that they hadn't been all that impressed with their fearless leader. Without turning, Mal's gaze swept across what he could see of the room. Five other men, all armed and all seemingly on different sides here.
And Mal? Mal had the ace -- and he didn't mean the gun trained on Pocketbook's head. He still had the cargo.
He hoped he did, at any rate. Zoe was supposed to take care of that little hiccup; with a little luck, she had the unfortunate thief strung up and keelhauled by now. Luck, be kind. It was a vain hope; luck never was. Didn't mean Mal wouldn't play with it, though. "It occurs to me," he said loudly, "that there is some discussion to be had." His gaze alighted on the man sweating at the business end of his revolver. "Maybe you wanna start." He glanced at the company, took stock of the tension in the room, and once again returned his gaze to the man in front of him. "I'm feeling a mite boxed in. Makes a man twitchy, so you might wanna stick with being truthsome."