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[Mal still doesn't understand what Thanksgiving is. She doesn't strictly speaking need to eat, and when she does it, she much prefers rougher fare than what the prizes consist of, such things being what she's used to. And she certainly doesn't know what a laser is.]
[However, she's inexorably drawn to blowing off steam and making a grand fool of herself, so she straps on all the ridiculous trappings of this inexplicable game and sets off into the hallways. She tends to improvise extra armor for herself, made out of scraps of metal, bits of cloth, and such, for maximum visual bafflement but minimal extra protection. By the end of the first day she's died and reset several times and is cheerfully ignoring the fact that she did just recently die not a week ago.]
[Her aim is not as good as one might expect of a soldier, but then, as Bush might scoff, infantry: what's to be done with them. She can be found anywhere, but most particularly holed up by the art room behind an easel, grinning like a loon.]
( mira, 11/30. )
[However, she's inexorably drawn to blowing off steam and making a grand fool of herself, so she straps on all the ridiculous trappings of this inexplicable game and sets off into the hallways. She tends to improvise extra armor for herself, made out of scraps of metal, bits of cloth, and such, for maximum visual bafflement but minimal extra protection. By the end of the first day she's died and reset several times and is cheerfully ignoring the fact that she did just recently die not a week ago.]
[Her aim is not as good as one might expect of a soldier, but then, as Bush might scoff, infantry: what's to be done with them. She can be found anywhere, but most particularly holed up by the art room behind an easel, grinning like a loon.]
( mira, 11/30. )
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