No bombs this time please [Active, Open]
Character(s): Mal, Whoever else wants to join
Content: Mal's doing his civic duty and guarding the food supply
Location: Rockefeller Center
Time: Christmas Morning
Warnings: None at the moment
Mal sat back in the lawn chair he'd commandeered and set up in front of the carefully stacked boxes of food. He was currently bundled up pretty heavily, and had managed to locate a couple of battery powered space heaters, having taken up the largely self appointed task of watching the food before it could be safely moved. The appearance of food had been a welcome surprise for the entire island, but Mal completely agreed with Mia's assessment that it needed to be carefully guarded. While he may have butted heads with the undeclared leader of Manhattan in the past, he was by no means stupid enough to risk their food supply over a simple difference of personal philosophies.
Especially not after he'd heard about what happened the last time people found a stash of food. Honestly, some days Mal was amazed the human species hadn't offed itself back when it still made its home in trees. Still, for now this overly ambitious monkey was going to do his best to ensure the people of Manhattan lasted out the year. Not that he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, he just wanted to ensure there was food enough for himself and his crew. Anyone who suggested otherwise would get a eye roll and snide comment about their overactive imagination.
Reaching to one side he lifted up a mug of cocoa and took a sip, letting the drink warm him up a bit. The cold was pretty biting, but he'd been through worse in the war. At least no one was trying to shoot him...yet.
Moving again to keep his blood flowing, Mal sat up to check the rifle he had brought along. The thing was s simple bolt action colt rifle, which was apparently dating back from some conflict called the Civil War. Mal had actually read a lot about the conflicts of Earth that Was since his arrival here, though whether it was out of real interest or some form of masochistic self hate he couldn't say. The rifle itself was likely a recreation, or else had been very lovingly looked after, but it was simple and easy to maintain, so Mal was fond of it.
Unlike a lot of people, Mal had a deep appreciation and respect for guns. Sure he wasn't going to run out and name the hun-dan things like Jayne, but he recognized them for what they were, tools that could be used for good or ill. The gun itself didn't have any inherent moral values, it was all in what a person chose to do with it. As long as it let him protect his crew, he was fine with it.
Realizing he was getting philosophical, something Mal opposed on principle, he shook his head and stood up to walk around some more. Clearly he'd been spending far too much time in his own head lately. After all, it was Christmas...whatever that meant.
Content: Mal's doing his civic duty and guarding the food supply
Location: Rockefeller Center
Time: Christmas Morning
Warnings: None at the moment
Mal sat back in the lawn chair he'd commandeered and set up in front of the carefully stacked boxes of food. He was currently bundled up pretty heavily, and had managed to locate a couple of battery powered space heaters, having taken up the largely self appointed task of watching the food before it could be safely moved. The appearance of food had been a welcome surprise for the entire island, but Mal completely agreed with Mia's assessment that it needed to be carefully guarded. While he may have butted heads with the undeclared leader of Manhattan in the past, he was by no means stupid enough to risk their food supply over a simple difference of personal philosophies.
Especially not after he'd heard about what happened the last time people found a stash of food. Honestly, some days Mal was amazed the human species hadn't offed itself back when it still made its home in trees. Still, for now this overly ambitious monkey was going to do his best to ensure the people of Manhattan lasted out the year. Not that he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, he just wanted to ensure there was food enough for himself and his crew. Anyone who suggested otherwise would get a eye roll and snide comment about their overactive imagination.
Reaching to one side he lifted up a mug of cocoa and took a sip, letting the drink warm him up a bit. The cold was pretty biting, but he'd been through worse in the war. At least no one was trying to shoot him...yet.
Moving again to keep his blood flowing, Mal sat up to check the rifle he had brought along. The thing was s simple bolt action colt rifle, which was apparently dating back from some conflict called the Civil War. Mal had actually read a lot about the conflicts of Earth that Was since his arrival here, though whether it was out of real interest or some form of masochistic self hate he couldn't say. The rifle itself was likely a recreation, or else had been very lovingly looked after, but it was simple and easy to maintain, so Mal was fond of it.
Unlike a lot of people, Mal had a deep appreciation and respect for guns. Sure he wasn't going to run out and name the hun-dan things like Jayne, but he recognized them for what they were, tools that could be used for good or ill. The gun itself didn't have any inherent moral values, it was all in what a person chose to do with it. As long as it let him protect his crew, he was fine with it.
Realizing he was getting philosophical, something Mal opposed on principle, he shook his head and stood up to walk around some more. Clearly he'd been spending far too much time in his own head lately. After all, it was Christmas...whatever that meant.