(no subject)
[OOM: The eighth day is home.]
Mal steps through the door to Milliways, not really looking hugely surprised. She's wearing pretty much what she was wearing when she left - a dark leather jacket that's too big for her, bloody, a rip across one sleeve, bloodstained breeches, boots. There's a horse-bow slung across her back, and the knife is in a sheath by her side. Her hair is a bit longer, her eyes darker, quieter, but there's nothing hesitant about her step as she makes her way over to the bar. Requests a coffee and a pair of dark leather gloves, yanking them on, then retiring to a table to sit and watch the bar at large.
It's possible she's looking for you.
Mal steps through the door to Milliways, not really looking hugely surprised. She's wearing pretty much what she was wearing when she left - a dark leather jacket that's too big for her, bloody, a rip across one sleeve, bloodstained breeches, boots. There's a horse-bow slung across her back, and the knife is in a sheath by her side. Her hair is a bit longer, her eyes darker, quieter, but there's nothing hesitant about her step as she makes her way over to the bar. Requests a coffee and a pair of dark leather gloves, yanking them on, then retiring to a table to sit and watch the bar at large.
It's possible she's looking for you.