That has to be, be far, one of the most sàngxīnbìngkuáng bìmùsètīng pieces of húshuōbādào Mal'd ever had the honor of hearing, and he lived on a ship with a crazy psychic, apologizes to the good doctor and his sister. The man's brain really had been rattled something bad. He's speaking pure nonsense, Mal's not even sure what it's meant to imply. From the tone of it all, it's suppose to be something of an insult, but as far as Mal's concerned might as well try insulting him for being able to walk. A lexical advantage? What the gorramn hell is that even suppose to mean?
It's enough to make a man laugh. Not a real, honest type of laugh that comes with a hearty smile such that you can't help but feeling good. Definitely, though, Mal can't help chuckling at the inherent unreason of it all, even if it ain't much of a good, solid laugh so much as simply taken back. So much so that Mal's not even sure what else to do, certainly not what to go and say.
Suppose he could understand the part about his speaking sounding a bit strange comes from. Folks on the core tend to like their talking a bit more proper-like, more with the upright prettiness that the likes of Inara or Simon tend to use while Mal, well, he prefers being somewhat less formalized way of conversating. It don't sound honest, least not to his ears, and he were he's from people prefer a simpler, more straight-forward manner of speaking, never much bothered with the fancified language. Goes to back up Mal's figuring the man has to be from some core world. Probably just ain't use to hearing what actual folks talk like outside his sheltered little existence is all.
Still, if that's the point he's trying to make than don't seem sensible to go implying at the same time that Mal's being all pretentious, especially not for something as silly as speaking Chinese. It's as if the man's honestly surprised about it when, well, regardless of he might think of the way Mal conversates or however he put it, it aint like Mal's shown no ability to string together basic sentences. Obviously he knows how to speak, but here now he's being accused of trying to use Chinese to sound all educated? Mal knows plenty of folks never once stepped foot in a school house and they can talk just fine, so it just doesn't make any sense. None at all.
"Son, I'm starting to suspect you took a harder spill than I thought," Mal points out, not holding back a bit of a knowing smile. Least now he's figured out why it is this fellow isn't making any sense about the panther, or how come it is he seems to honestly believe Mal shoot at him when it'd be pretty obvious to anyone with eyes or even just a perceptive blind man that he did no such thing, hadn't even been aiming his direction as a point of fact. "Think you need to sit yourself down for a while 'til you get your feet about you." Not his literal feet, of course, though to be honest the man doesn't come off as having the best hold over his physical balance anymore than his mental. "Maybe it'll do you some good. Calm your mood some and let the blood set your brain right, 'cause trust me, boy, right now you're not making very much sense."
Mal's tone has turned to the type you use with a child or the very, very drunk. The sort of casually condescending, not so much on purpose but because you're honestly not sure how much they can comprehend at the moment. Judging by the way he's been talking, Mal's guessing not too much. Not precisely friendly but more on the gentle side, although with a good dose of authority because right then and there the person just ain't thinking clear on their own and they pretty much need someone to guide them through until they sober up or their wits return. Otherwise just might hurt themselves or end up sounding even stupider than they've already managed, though in this particular case seems like that would have been something of a stretch.
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It's enough to make a man laugh. Not a real, honest type of laugh that comes with a hearty smile such that you can't help but feeling good. Definitely, though, Mal can't help chuckling at the inherent unreason of it all, even if it ain't much of a good, solid laugh so much as simply taken back. So much so that Mal's not even sure what else to do, certainly not what to go and say.
Suppose he could understand the part about his speaking sounding a bit strange comes from. Folks on the core tend to like their talking a bit more proper-like, more with the upright prettiness that the likes of Inara or Simon tend to use while Mal, well, he prefers being somewhat less formalized way of conversating. It don't sound honest, least not to his ears, and he were he's from people prefer a simpler, more straight-forward manner of speaking, never much bothered with the fancified language. Goes to back up Mal's figuring the man has to be from some core world. Probably just ain't use to hearing what actual folks talk like outside his sheltered little existence is all.
Still, if that's the point he's trying to make than don't seem sensible to go implying at the same time that Mal's being all pretentious, especially not for something as silly as speaking Chinese. It's as if the man's honestly surprised about it when, well, regardless of he might think of the way Mal conversates or however he put it, it aint like Mal's shown no ability to string together basic sentences. Obviously he knows how to speak, but here now he's being accused of trying to use Chinese to sound all educated? Mal knows plenty of folks never once stepped foot in a school house and they can talk just fine, so it just doesn't make any sense. None at all.
"Son, I'm starting to suspect you took a harder spill than I thought," Mal points out, not holding back a bit of a knowing smile. Least now he's figured out why it is this fellow isn't making any sense about the panther, or how come it is he seems to honestly believe Mal shoot at him when it'd be pretty obvious to anyone with eyes or even just a perceptive blind man that he did no such thing, hadn't even been aiming his direction as a point of fact. "Think you need to sit yourself down for a while 'til you get your feet about you." Not his literal feet, of course, though to be honest the man doesn't come off as having the best hold over his physical balance anymore than his mental. "Maybe it'll do you some good. Calm your mood some and let the blood set your brain right, 'cause trust me, boy, right now you're not making very much sense."
Mal's tone has turned to the type you use with a child or the very, very drunk. The sort of casually condescending, not so much on purpose but because you're honestly not sure how much they can comprehend at the moment. Judging by the way he's been talking, Mal's guessing not too much. Not precisely friendly but more on the gentle side, although with a good dose of authority because right then and there the person just ain't thinking clear on their own and they pretty much need someone to guide them through until they sober up or their wits return. Otherwise just might hurt themselves or end up sounding even stupider than they've already managed, though in this particular case seems like that would have been something of a stretch.