Mal has never been a particularly good one when it comes to following orders, especially when it's from persons he don't know nor cares to get to know in all honesty. So he doesn't suspect that just on account of the man looking like an angel that Mal is going to change his ways on that habit anytime soon. Hell, he's a sight more likely too -
Hmm... Well now, ain't that just the strangest thing?
The wet leaves crunch under his knees as Mal slips down to the ground, trying to reach out to Melanie. He doesn't just go grabbing her - he ain't a complete bèn dàn after all - knows if he were to going trying to force her to let him get a look at her arm that she's just going to continue freaking out on him which ain't at all what Mal wants, he's just trying to help her is all. Sure, her injury is mostly on his own account but that just makes it more his responsibility to check the damn thing, and right now that's all he's trying to get at. Be surprised how fast these wounds can bleed out or go bad, 'specially of some or even just a fragment of the bullet's lodged itself in there. If that's he case she's going to need some serious aid, and he don't mean some giant snake cutting off blood flow and a flaming sword to cauterization the wound as helpful as he's sure those sorts of tricks are when your injuries are from equally deceptive gimmicks they kind of which they keep employing though Mal has shown no patients for them.
Makes it even stranger that when the angel resorts to simply yelling commands at him - he's stronger than he looks, Mal will give him that much, that sort of blow should have knocked a man flat on his back and possibly left him there for a while to come - like after all his other mechanisms and con-acts this will be what finally gets Mal's attention.Yet like a child called out in a schoolroom Mal's hand stops halfway stretched out, hi fingers half curled out in offering to Melanie,just about as gentle as he could be when he really felt that wound needs attended to 'specially with such a slight, pale little thing probably ain't got much blood in her to lose. Weirder is how his other hand, sliding his pistol back in the holster in hopes it might help calm the girl's nerves somewhat seems to be just as stuck. Now that's notice it Mal finds he can't move a damn thing, every inch down to his damn toes are totally paralyzed.
Not just like he's gone still from the shock of being yelled at, nothing like that at all in fact, but he can't actually move a muscle, not for all he is worth, and he damn well strains near every one of them trying to get just about anywhere and the closest he comes is making some choked grunts, almost surprising in a way but it seems most of his face muscles work well enough.
"What the ruttin' hell have you done from me you báimù mā càode," Mal growls, and to say now that it might be a favor the girl can't understand him is something of an understatement, especially if Mal had any chance to unleash half of what is sitting right at the tip of his tongue. But before he went into the details over just what this man could go do and to who Mal wants some gorramn answers. Some kind of paralyzing drug, Mal suspects, but when he even had time to administer it how Mal missed such a thing, those are the real questions, ones he's betting he won't be hear much turthfullness on. "Best you cut the bullshit wèile Shén shèngjié de pìyǎn seeing as you've got the costuming for it and all, angel." There's a real mocking sense to his smile and flirtations banter stuck on at the end, especially after all the rest of hadn't so much been spoken but growled, but just in case the stranger has any doubts what Mal's thoughts are on this whole act, well, there you have it.
And supposing he is some messenger from God than fine, have it your way old man, he's learned his lesson. Next time he doesn't try and help the kid, just lets them bleed out on the side of the road like a good Christian should.
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Mal has never been a particularly good one when it comes to following orders, especially when it's from persons he don't know nor cares to get to know in all honesty. So he doesn't suspect that just on account of the man looking like an angel that Mal is going to change his ways on that habit anytime soon. Hell, he's a sight more likely too -
Hmm... Well now, ain't that just the strangest thing?
The wet leaves crunch under his knees as Mal slips down to the ground, trying to reach out to Melanie. He doesn't just go grabbing her - he ain't a complete bèn dàn after all - knows if he were to going trying to force her to let him get a look at her arm that she's just going to continue freaking out on him which ain't at all what Mal wants, he's just trying to help her is all. Sure, her injury is mostly on his own account but that just makes it more his responsibility to check the damn thing, and right now that's all he's trying to get at. Be surprised how fast these wounds can bleed out or go bad, 'specially of some or even just a fragment of the bullet's lodged itself in there. If that's he case she's going to need some serious aid, and he don't mean some giant snake cutting off blood flow and a flaming sword to cauterization the wound as helpful as he's sure those sorts of tricks are when your injuries are from equally deceptive gimmicks they kind of which they keep employing though Mal has shown no patients for them.
Makes it even stranger that when the angel resorts to simply yelling commands at him - he's stronger than he looks, Mal will give him that much, that sort of blow should have knocked a man flat on his back and possibly left him there for a while to come - like after all his other mechanisms and con-acts this will be what finally gets Mal's attention.Yet like a child called out in a schoolroom Mal's hand stops halfway stretched out, hi fingers half curled out in offering to Melanie,just about as gentle as he could be when he really felt that wound needs attended to 'specially with such a slight, pale little thing probably ain't got much blood in her to lose. Weirder is how his other hand, sliding his pistol back in the holster in hopes it might help calm the girl's nerves somewhat seems to be just as stuck. Now that's notice it Mal finds he can't move a damn thing, every inch down to his damn toes are totally paralyzed.
Not just like he's gone still from the shock of being yelled at, nothing like that at all in fact, but he can't actually move a muscle, not for all he is worth, and he damn well strains near every one of them trying to get just about anywhere and the closest he comes is making some choked grunts, almost surprising in a way but it seems most of his face muscles work well enough.
"What the ruttin' hell have you done from me you báimù mā càode," Mal growls, and to say now that it might be a favor the girl can't understand him is something of an understatement, especially if Mal had any chance to unleash half of what is sitting right at the tip of his tongue. But before he went into the details over just what this man could go do and to who Mal wants some gorramn answers. Some kind of paralyzing drug, Mal suspects, but when he even had time to administer it how Mal missed such a thing, those are the real questions, ones he's betting he won't be hear much turthfullness on. "Best you cut the bullshit wèile Shén shèngjié de pìyǎn seeing as you've got the costuming for it and all, angel." There's a real mocking sense to his smile and flirtations banter stuck on at the end, especially after all the rest of hadn't so much been spoken but growled, but just in case the stranger has any doubts what Mal's thoughts are on this whole act, well, there you have it.
And supposing he is some messenger from God than fine, have it your way old man, he's learned his lesson. Next time he doesn't try and help the kid, just lets them bleed out on the side of the road like a good Christian should.