If wishes were horses, we'd all be eatin' steak.

[mister_jayne]

((OOC: Jayne is from shortly after the episode Jaynestown. SO he's nothing like where the rest of them are from. XD Makes it even more confusing for him. Joy!))

Into the Inn walks a big guy with a gun.

...

"What the ruttin' hell's this?"

He lifts the gun up in front of him twists his head 'round to look behind.

No ship.

He looks forward.

No ship.

Back.

Comments

[silver_maxwell]

This is a Max giving him a startled look. "Holy shit! Put the gun away, man." He doesn't have to, of course. But it'd certainly make Max a lot happier.

[mister_jayne]

"You gonna give me a good reason for it?" Obviously there is no gun putting away, but there's no pulling of the trigger either. "Cause all I'm thinkin' is I'm in the ship and now I ain't... and... and... that means I ain't puttin this gun away till someone gives me some kind of... explainin 'er... somethin'."

[silver_maxwell]

"You're in the Inn." Max is watching that gun very warily. "And hey, man, I ain't gonna shoot ya, and I really don't think anyone else is here, either. That's about all I can give ya."

[mister_jayne]

"The Inn. Okay. Well. I don't make trustin' people no kind of habit or nothin'." But at least, he's leaving the ankle gun where it's at.

And he's lowering the other gun. "So you wanna do a little better job of explainin' this here... Inn. Most important, how I can get back to the ruttin' ship already?"

[silver_maxwell]

"Neither do I, 'specially not when they're pointin' a gun at me." But he relaxes a little, now that the gun's lowered.

"You can't, really. You sort of -- fell through the cracks, and ended up here. Everyone here did the same."

[mister_jayne]

Jayne snorts.

"Now see. Gun pointin' that is habit."

He frowns.

"I didn't fall through no crack. I walked. Right out of my own gorram room."

[silver_maxwell]

"Maybe for you." There's a small, awkward shrug. "I had enough of 'em."

Max gives him a mildly annoyed look. "Yeah, I know, so did I. But you ended up here."

[mister_jayne]

"There ain't such thing as enough of 'em."

Jayne just blinks.

"But how? And don't give me none of that crack mumbo jumbo. I got a point A and a point B and I need to know how C figures into... all that. Or I dunno never was good at math."

[silver_maxwell]

"Trust me. There is." His words are a little clipped, but that's just because Max has Issues concerning guns.

"Fuck, you think I know? It's a hell of a lot more entertainin' than sittin' by myself in an flat in New York, is all I can say."

[mister_jayne]

Jayne just has issues with being a complete idiot. It's okay.

"Entertainin'. I ain't got no time for entertainment." He puts his gun away now and turns to stare at the wall where he came from.

Somehow.

He presses his hands against. Looking for an exit.

[silver_maxwell]

"Damn. And here I was gonna do a dance for you and everything." Max finally relaxes, now, because the gun is gone.

"I told you, man, that isn't gonna work."

[mister_jayne]

"Don't let me stop you from doin' your whole song 'n dance routine, boy. Just don't be expectin' no appluase from me neither."

Jayne throws a glare over his shoulder. "Yeah. Well. Ain't gonna stop me from tryin'."

[silver_maxwell]

"Nah. Maybe if you were a cute British artist named Jude I would, but you're not. Sorry."

There's a shrug. "Try as much as you want, it ain't gonna happen."

[mister_jayne]

"Er. That kind of dancin'? No. Keep that to yerself."

Jayne shrugs and doesn't stop trying cause he's just a stubborn idiot like that. "Hmph."

[silver_maxwell]

"Yessir." He throws off a sharp salute that isn't sarcastic in the least. We promise.

"You have fun with that, then."