008: [location: serenity] & [accidental visual]

[skyfrome]

Here is Mal, thankfully not smashing things in a rage this time around, but instead absorbed in a much more sedate activity. Said activity involves the kitchen table on board Serenity, and a frankly bizarre array of ingredients spread out across it, with a mixing jug in the middle. He appears to be doing something ungodly involving high protein

Comments

[voice]

[freaks_myword]

Way too easy.

[visual]

[skyfrome]

Hmm yes, now that Mal has the chance to consider his wording, that did sound slightly dubious. Of course he will feign ignorance, however.

"Gwen! I'm sure I have no idea what you might mean by that."

[visual]

[freaks_myword]

He walked right into it, really.

"My apologies, Captain. I forget about your innocent mind, sometimes."

[visual]

[skyfrome]

Yes, yes he did.

"Well I am a delicate flower, no matter what my rugged exterior might indicate to the contrary." He says this with as much sincerity as he can reasonably fake on short notice.

"And how're you farin' of late?"

[Visual]

[semimuscular]

It had been a while since Wash had surfaced. The pilot had taken Zoe's disappearance badly; partly because he didn't understand it, partly because he hadn't been able to prevent it and most of all because she was his wife. He'd never felt a sense of loss like it. The memory of Zoe - the empty space in their bed, the silence of the cockpit - filled the ship like something solid. Jokes and dinosaur-related hijinks had been dying on his lips.

But he'd never seen Mal cooking before. Wash just couldn't help himself.

"Sort of makes you wish we had some of Canton's finest Mudder's Milk, doesn't it?"

[Visual]

[skyfrome]

Maybe part of Mal's cooking was an attempt to distract from Zoe's disappearance. Admittedly it wasn't a coping strategy he'd ever tried before, but familiar tastes brought back familiar memories of better times, and that was a little cheering in itself. He knew Wash was taking it very hard though, and he certainly couldn't reproach his pilot for that.

"It does indeed. 'Specially as my approximation tastes like xióngmāo niào*... moreso than the regular kind does." He grimaced illustratively as he said this. "You reckon the hatches could do better?"

*[panda urine]

[semimuscular]

"I think I could do better, Mal," said Wash, cheerfully. Given the pilot's lack of talent in the kitchen, that was a dire insult indeed. It was a shame that he wasn't able to manage a more serious delivery. Not that Wash was a particularly serious person. (It was nice to be reminded of that, actually.)

"You could try baking instead?"

[skyfrome]

"Oh don't hold back, tell me how you really feel." Mal was mortally offended by Wash's verdict, evidently-- witness his pained look.

"Baking. As in... with an oven?" He cast a fearful glance behind him at said piece of kitchen apparatus, before looking back at Wash. He's really not a cook.