A job.

[bringmethatnpc]

On the banks of the Singapore River, a small bamboo-and-stone structure stands out as being one of the newest, and best cared for buildings in the area; a temple for a religion the Western world only hears of in stories from disreputable sailors. Inside, the acolytes sleep soundly on minimalist pallets, biding the time before midnight rituals.

The stillness within is a strange departure from the all-night activity in the town without, and stands apart as a silent haven. The silence is broken only by the movement of unwelcome boots sneaking across bamboo floors designed for bare feet only.

Comments

[badinlatin]

And Mal'd like to, if he thought that wouldn't end any shot of his escape.

"Anywhere but here."

It's true enough.

[bringmethatnpc]

"There are other guards." Tai Huang said skeptically.

His tone was more evasively warning, fingers become lighter against the revolver. Almost like they stir to stroke it shortly.

He has looked off in the last moment toward the passage he'd come from as though he was thinking out the idea.

[badinlatin]

"It's a compliment that you underestimate me."

[bringmethatnpc]

If Mal should die in the escape attempt, which was as likely, his weapon might be lost along the way, too...

Tai Huang looked back warily, from the empty hallway.

The risk--

"You will die if you attempt to attack Lord Sao Feng."

[badinlatin]

"I've got no interest in it. I just want to go my way."

At least that part's true, and Mal's taking in the contours of his own pistol very minutely, now.

Like it's the last time he'll see it.

[bringmethatnpc]

There wasn't a shred of faith...but as his dirty fingers slid over the weapon, more treasured for each look the man continued to give it, the weight was becoming more intimate, more coveted.

"One of the men-"

Tai Huangs voice was very still in the dark room.

And he knew which man to finger already. The scabbing and bumbling fool who troubled him often. "-could have tied you up wrong."

[badinlatin]

Finally.

Mal slips out one wrist from his bonds, waves at Tai Huang, slipping the wrist back in again.

[bringmethatnpc]

The little black eyes widened, thought they were accompanied by a rather dark curve of his lips. Mal hadn't attacked and had made his story even more believable.

Tai Huang licked his lips when he neared the door, reaching into his pocket. His eys stayed on Mal. He'd fought and killed many men to maintain his position, but he suddenly felt the assumptions about his prisoner might all be wrong-- including being safe within a few feet of him.

The key jangled in the lock while he looked to make sure no one was coming, one hand staying securely on the revolver. It might not be the smartest move but he wasn't above protecting the treasure he'd been promised.

[badinlatin]

Mal needs to escape.

Mal wants his gun.

God. Damn. It.

Mal takes the time to salute in a way that is anything but polite before running away from his revolver and back toward freedom. Of one kind or another.