Scene #412:

Owner	Pose
Malcolm Reynolds	It's evening to the body clocks of Serenity's crew. Floating out in space, day and night become a very fluid concept. You go to bed when you're tired, not when the sun's down. Since, flying around, it usually tend to stay on one side of the ship. And so, this particular 'evening', the crew's made a stop by the Bar and Grill, which is quickly becoming a favored spot of theirs. They've occupied a pair of booths to the rear of the station, and have ordered drinks all around. They seem to be in a pretty good mood, as most are laughing, or bantering back and forth. "You didn't -actually- boost the microphone, did you Cap'n?" asks the bright-eyed ship's mechanic, seated next to another woman of striking, exotic beauty. She's mostly quiet, it seems, listening in to the crew's conversation around her. "Most certainly did," replies Serenity's captain, flashing a quick, rakish sort of grin. "Swapped it for the one on my station. Gives a bit more of an...official air, don't it?"
Michael Knight	Michael Knight opens a door. "Huh." He was expecting his hotel room, but... this isn't so bad. The loner takes a look around, straightens his leather jacket. Satisfied, he takes a seat at the bar.
Corvo Attano	And someone enters, with a soft dingl-ingl-ingg~ sound... and the man from the fight slips in. Slowly. Carefully. A wincing step, at a time. Slow. He's not, quite, recovered yet. Not entirely. He could heal himself, but it didn't help the deep injuries, the bone bruises. No amount of water or even elixer oftentimes helped with the deep-down aches. Too much torture. Too many broken bones.
Malcolm Reynolds	A couple of the figures from the crew seem to recognize Corvo as the man wanders into the bar. Michael gets a stry glance or two, but there's no recognition, so the crew leaves him be. One of the figures, a lanky, younger man with long black hair, looks on over towards Corvo, attentively. "Sir..?" says Simon. "Have you by chance wandered out of a hospital?" he asks, sounding concerned. The good doctor catches an elbow from Mal, who's seated next to him. "Man's gotten himself to the best kind of hospital there is, doctor.." says the captain. "Corvo, wasn't it?" he says, looking over at the new arrival. "Hell of a fight, that was."
Michael Knight	Michael Knight looks over at Corvo. Man--and he thought he'd had a rough day. "Hey, bartender," he says, without consideration to what kind of money this place takes or even if it does take money. "A shot of Jack for the guy who looks like he got in a fight with a gorilla and lost."
Corvo Attano	A glance, somewhat hedging, towards Simon. Without the mask he looks mediterranean in an odd sort of way. Some Spanish/Portuguesse sort of air to him, though he looks purebred whatever the hell he is. "I am, not, in need of a hospital." It's a reassuring comment, and his smile is soft and charismatic, his hair a wavy drift of glossy brown-black in front of his eyes as he looks up at the captain. He's a man of middling height, looking Mal pretty much straight on. His smile is kindly. "...Corvo, yes. Corvo Attano, at your service. And yes. Yes, it was..." his smile is reminiscent now, distant and misty... and a wince, rubbing his side. "Unfortunately, it reminded my body that I would be a daft fool for running around like that, after Coldridge." A glance over at Michael... and holds up a hand. "I appreciate the sentiment good sir, but my, ah, organs aren't what they used to be after an aborted assassination attempt. Lived, but the innards didn't much care for the poison and they tend to cause my liver and kidneys to ache and bleed if I drink."
Malcolm Reynolds	"Hell, if he's not drinking, I'll have it," comments a gruntish voice that belongs to an equally gruntish looking figure, seated at the next table on over. Jayne gives a wave to the bartender, demonstratively. "Right... I'd disagree, but what do I know?" returns Simon, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his eyes as he returns to his seat, murmuring something to Kaylee. "Ah, well, nothin' a couple days of rest and alcohol can't fix," returns the captain, with a good-natured grin. "Though, m'sure the doctor would have some of his own...opinions on that prescription, right doc?" says Mal, looking to his medic and giving a grin. Simon just glares.
Michael Knight	Michael Knight says, "Be my guest, guy." Michael can't help but chuckle at Malcolm's eager comment. He gives a credit card, apparently one of many judging by the way he flips through his wallet, to the bartender, who places it behind the counter. The shot of JD is brought over to the captain's table. The loner nods respectfully to Corvo."
Corvo Attano	Jayne is given a thoughtful look, and Corvo's comment is respectful. "Wouldn't want to meet YOU in a Watch uniform... or Bottle Street Gang colors, truth be told." That fight would go... badly, possibly. Or Corvo would be a dirty underhanded bitch like normal and get lucky and knock Jayne out. He didn't want to find out which way it'd go. Simon gets a distant sort of look, his face tight. He looks away. "Enlighten me." It's an invitation, more than a challenge. But Mal gets a look. "...I piss blood, if I drink. I drink more, I piss blood and throw up blood, and then my skin starts turning odd skin tones. I don't think more would heal that." Michael gets a deferential and friendly nod, his finger snapping, clapping an odd many sided coin to the counter. "And one for whatever this gentleman takes; he's a kindly man, and I appreciate the offer, for all that I cannot accept it."
Malcolm Reynolds	Jayne grins, as the JD is brought over to his table, and the large man quickly tosses the shot back, leaning back in his seat approvingly. "Damn fine stuff, that," he asserts, with a nod. "Hoe-mura didn't look much better when she made 'er way outta there, fer what it's worth.." Jayne comments, over in Corvo's direction. He gives a slow sort of grin, in reply to Corvo's first comment. The tough-guy image that the big man puts off is slightly diminished by the hat that he wears; clearly home-knit, and in an awful shade of orange. "Jayne's actually got a point there," notes Mal, with a nod. "Was a fair close match, that one. Don't know quite how we got fixed into that little gig, but I was glad to take it," he says. He raises an eyebrow, to Corvo's description of his reaction to alcohol. "Fix that one, doc.." he says, looking over expectantly to Simon, when Corvo does as well. "Well..." starts the young doctor, a bit put off now that most of Serenity's crew, and the tough-looking swordsman from the fight are looking in his direction. "Sounds like an...abnormal sort of reaction by your liver.." he diagnoses. "Could be any number of things... As simple as an allergic reaction, or possibly some more serious internal damage. Jayne's begun to try to see how many toothpicks he can stack on Simon's hair without the doctor noticing, now. Clearly, he tuned out a while back.
Michael Knight	Michael Knight receives a glass of Blue Moon, complete with a slice of orange for garnish. "Thanks, pal," he says, raising the glass to Corvo gratefully. He savors the beverage quietly and considers becoming a more social creature now that he, Corvo and the man with the unusual hat have all exchanged that most traditional of bar pleasantries.
Corvo Attano	He nods. "Gives me hope that I might be able to finish what I started, and maybe actually, make, a difference, properly. Win the day and all that." He tries to look hopeful... and then watches the young doctor with a kindly eye, not begrudging him his sudden social awkwardness. There IS a moment where Jayne's toothpic antics are noticed. And there's just the faintest shift... Corvo's suddenly a fraction of an inch to the left. And all of the toothpicks are gone from his hair... but they ARE wedged in between Jayne's fingers, sort of bristling cheerily. He gives Jayne a look, a smile and an inclination of his head. "...It would seem I have run into a bit of good fortune. Can I perhaps buy you and your crew something to eat this fine evening? Since most of my funds aren't necessarily coming from ...salvage." Aka stealing folks blind.
Malcolm Reynolds	"What in the gorram hell?" says Jayne, suddenly finding himself with a number of pointy wooden picks stuck between his fingers. He hastily swipes his hands on his pants, and picks out some of the more stubborn toothpicks while giving the olive-skinned, clearly exotic woman across the table a suspicious look. "Pullin' some kind of spooky Companion magic, 'Nara?" he asks, narrow-eyed. "Yes, Jayne. They covered that back at the Academy," replies Inara, smoothly. She rolls her eyes, giving a curving smile to Kaylee, who giggles. "I assume by salvage you're referrin' to our perfectly legitimate business operation," replies the ship's captain, flashing a quick sort of grin to that. "Appreciate the offer, friend. But we've got enough to cover our own needs."
Michael Knight	Michael Knight says, "That's quite a trick." It happened fast enough that Michael finds himself questioning whether it was sleight of hand or something less mundane. He doesn't ask, of course--he knows a good magician never tells his secrets. Knight wheels around on his barstool to watch Corvo and Reynolds' group. "The, uh, salvage business treating you guys well?""
Corvo Attano	A shrug, and a smile. "Back home I'm already considered a traitor, murderer. Add assassin on, because they all seem to assume I kill. Witch. That one's true." He taps the back of his left hand, the odd brand burned therin..." A glance over at Michael. Blink. "...Not really." He hates swiping candlesticks and priceless paintings for money for his upgrades and gear."
Malcolm Reynolds	Jayne manages to get all of the toothpicks out of his hands, though still eyes Inara, figuring her as the culprit, despite the fact that she's sitting at a seperate table. "Salvage, delivery, transport..." replies Serenity's captain, looking over towards Michael. "Picking up jobs as they come. Salvage's started paying nicely, though, 'round this Multiverse of yours. Plenty of abandoned ships and stations 'round. And people needin' those parts."
Michael Knight	Michael Knight says, "I can imagine." He nods. "Name's Michael Knight. I'm in insurance, myself. You a ship captain, mister?""
Malcolm Reynolds	"Malcolm Reynolds, captain of Serenity," comes the man's reply, raising his glass over in Michael's direction. He thumbs back towards one of the Bar's large porthole, where the oddly-shaped Firefly transport can be seen docked to the station outside. "That's her," he says. "Not the fastest, or the sturdiest, but she gets us where we're going, and quietly. And makes a fine home."