Sir Malcolm D'Reynald.... If his mother and those forty hands who'd been father and brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles to him could see him now, all duded up (and likely nursing a few bruises from the joust), with a fancy title and all. A title that he's earned, though it still puzzles him how that came about. All he did was The Right Thing ( Read more... )

It's late November, the trees bare and sleeping, the ground strewn with fallen leaves, and Mal's thoughts are turned to the thrill of the hunt, specifically for a Thanksgiving turkey or two. He's not sure what happened to the two he bagged last year (and he never did find the ostriches that Ines challenged him to find. Not that he expected to, but ( Read more... )

It's early morning, and now that he's got the milking done, Mal has set up his makeshift shooting range: a row of tin cans on a fence rail. He might be keeping an eye open for any company. Never hurts to have a partner, or at the least, a spotter for a bit of company.

And he's wondering if that gal with the bow and arrows might turn up...

The first bucket of milk from the nanny goats he's rounded up, and it has Sugar's name on it. She has a little girl and growing kids need their milk to help them grow and so he brought the pail into the kitchen to filter it first before he can present it to her.

It might not be the most romantic gift, but it's thoughtful at least.

A lady like her and a guy like him? Didn't seem likely, him without a country or a title, much less a last name that wasn't his mother's ( Read more... )

It's late afternoon, and after a half hour of target practice, Mal is busy on the back porch, cleaning his firearms, starting with the shotgun and working downward to the handgun. Even a gun that's been sitting in storage needs to be cleaned and checked for potential corrosion, if it's to be kept in good use ( Read more... )

Eda/Mal
Gwen/Mal
Sugar/Mal
Mal/Neville

He'd promised Brienne that he'd show her how to use the kind of weapons used in his world, in exchange for learning how to swing a sword better. Fencing dirty might have worked on Atherton Wing, but he has a feeling he's going to need to deal with people a hell of a lot harder to overpower. And he suspects there's things here that would be easier ( Read more... )

Continued from here

Mal makes certain the weird white-haired kid has departed before he holsters his pistol and turns to Fuschia. "Hey, y' all right there now, Miss Fuschia?" he asks. "Yer shakin' like a leaf inna gale wind."

He hates seeing a nice girl like her so shook up like this, especially when some punk-ass kid shook her tree this badly.

One of Mal's more irritating discoveries at the Mansion has been the fact that his room lacks a shower or a bath. A fold away sink and a fold away toilet, much as he had on Serenity, but no shower, since the shower on his boat had been a remote shared one ( Read more... )