[ it's clear enough that kovacs has had his share of disappointments, evident by how vocal he'd been all those weeks ago on the network when dispute after dispute seemed to rise up amongst the team. it's the only time he really finds reason to "step up", banishing his more isolated habits to try to advise from all of his experiences in taking part in missions long before he ever ended up on the ximilia. it's especially hard to keep quiet when certain faces appear on the network making so-called proclamations on decisions made on behalf of the group.
he hadn't made it much of a secret where his trust lies with kirigan, but he wonders just how much people are paying attention, whether their own guards will continue to be let down. a part of him remains concerned; the other part decides he wants nothing to do with it, crouching down in a quiet corner of the sunlight room, back pressed up against the trunk of a tree as he digs the pink bag between his legs to pull out a small paper-wrapped stick a little different from the typical cigarettes he chain smokes.
lighting up the joint, he brings it to his lips to breathe deeply, holding it in for a long moment as he leans his head back, closing his eyes. when he finally exhales, smoke blowing from his lips, his shoulders sink as he tries to let the tension from them wither away. ]
[ being back on the station after their time on e-23b feels different than when they're returned from their poorly concluded train ride. mal almost misses the kaiju, really.
the thing about revolutions and wars is that they're not easy. they're not made better by people who aren't from that world sticking their noses in it either, he thinks. but he's coming off the tail of wei wuxian asking him if he'd want the orb used in his own world and kirigan--- kirigan existing in the same space mal breathes.
the trouble there, mal knows, is he can pepper in hints to people that the man cannot be trusted but he understands that time builds bonds. kirigan has more people who trust him and mal screaming that the man's lying through his teeth won't change that quickly. actions show more than words, after all.
the sunlit's room's still mal's place to go when he needs to calm down, unwind. he works himself up being annoyed at kirigan, at the others, at the fact they stayed instead of leaving with the orb. at how it all went down. but that's not the thing he wants to concentrate on as he takes a moment to enjoy the sunsshine on his face. fake or not, he's missed it. it's a certain smell that draws his attention, has him finding kovacs seated smoking under a tree.]
What sort of tobacco's that? [ he asks, head tilted because it doesn't smell like any he knows. he feels comfortable enough asking kovacs, the two of them have shared enough moments exasperated before the team finally returned to the station. ]
[ it isn't as if he necessarily expected privacy here. the station isn't exactly built for having some time to one's self aside from staying cooped up in the room. and though he's since changed his room assignment (on account of who his previous roommate happens to be), it's not like it takes much for people to track him down if they want to find him.
to be found by mal isn't the worst of possibilities, especially since enough time on the network had led him towards realizing they shared plenty of the same frustrations. and shared minds within this group is something he's really needed these days.
with the question, he takes another hit from the joint, breathing in deep with a light flutter of his lashes before he breaths out again, a light satisfied groan in his throat. ]
The good kind. [ he gives a subtle smirk, holding it up. ] Want a hit?
There's a good kind? [ mal's not worldly enough to have experienced the different varieties. tobacco is tobacco, cheap and yet a hot commodity between soldiers.
if there's anything better out there, it hasn't touched his lips.
he shrugs his shoulders and then nods. the smirk tells him there's more to it, something worth experimenting with. mal reaches out to take the offered cigarette. ] If you're sharing, yeah. Smoking sounds better than dealing with... [ he trails off, considers it. plenty of people have been annoying him, pissing him off since they got back. before, even. ] People, actually.
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post-mission; cw: drug use
he hadn't made it much of a secret where his trust lies with kirigan, but he wonders just how much people are paying attention, whether their own guards will continue to be let down. a part of him remains concerned; the other part decides he wants nothing to do with it, crouching down in a quiet corner of the sunlight room, back pressed up against the trunk of a tree as he digs the pink bag between his legs to pull out a small paper-wrapped stick a little different from the typical cigarettes he chain smokes.
lighting up the joint, he brings it to his lips to breathe deeply, holding it in for a long moment as he leans his head back, closing his eyes. when he finally exhales, smoke blowing from his lips, his shoulders sink as he tries to let the tension from them wither away. ]
no subject
the thing about revolutions and wars is that they're not easy. they're not made better by people who aren't from that world sticking their noses in it either, he thinks. but he's coming off the tail of wei wuxian asking him if he'd want the orb used in his own world and kirigan--- kirigan existing in the same space mal breathes.
the trouble there, mal knows, is he can pepper in hints to people that the man cannot be trusted but he understands that time builds bonds. kirigan has more people who trust him and mal screaming that the man's lying through his teeth won't change that quickly. actions show more than words, after all.
the sunlit's room's still mal's place to go when he needs to calm down, unwind. he works himself up being annoyed at kirigan, at the others, at the fact they stayed instead of leaving with the orb. at how it all went down. but that's not the thing he wants to concentrate on as he takes a moment to enjoy the sunsshine on his face. fake or not, he's missed it. it's a certain smell that draws his attention, has him finding kovacs seated smoking under a tree.]
What sort of tobacco's that? [ he asks, head tilted because it doesn't smell like any he knows. he feels comfortable enough asking kovacs, the two of them have shared enough moments exasperated before the team finally returned to the station. ]
no subject
to be found by mal isn't the worst of possibilities, especially since enough time on the network had led him towards realizing they shared plenty of the same frustrations. and shared minds within this group is something he's really needed these days.
with the question, he takes another hit from the joint, breathing in deep with a light flutter of his lashes before he breaths out again, a light satisfied groan in his throat. ]
The good kind. [ he gives a subtle smirk, holding it up. ] Want a hit?
no subject
if there's anything better out there, it hasn't touched his lips.
he shrugs his shoulders and then nods. the smirk tells him there's more to it, something worth experimenting with. mal reaches out to take the offered cigarette. ] If you're sharing, yeah. Smoking sounds better than dealing with... [ he trails off, considers it. plenty of people have been annoying him, pissing him off since they got back. before, even. ] People, actually.