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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ⱨ₳VɆ ₳ ₲ⱤɆ₳₮ Đ₳Ɏ!⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀█████████████████████
⡎⢸ ⠉⠐⠢⢌⠑⢄ ⡸ ⡆ ⠣⠱⡀
⡇⢸ ⣀⠗ ⠉⠉⠁ ⠙⠢⠤⡀⢃⢱
⡇⠘⣄⢀⠔⠉ ⠈⠁⠘⡄
⢇ ⠁ ⠘⡄
⢸ ⢀⣀⣀⡀ ⢀⣀⣀⡀ ⢣
⡸ ⢴⣾⡿⠿⠿⠇ ⠘⠛⠛⠛ ⠈⢄ +rep
⠰⡁ ⢠⠒⠢⡀⠈⠒⠊ ⡠⢄ ⡘
⠱⣀ ⢀⠜ ⠇ ⢀⠔⠁ ⡏
⠑⠤⢄⣀⠔⠁ ⡜ ⠊⠁ ⢀⠜
Wash: "I don't want you to spare me, Mal. If you think you know what's
happening, then you tell me. You wouldn't spare Zoe if she were in this
situation with you, would you? You would be planning, and plotting and
possibly scheming. So whatever Zoe would do in this instance is what I wanna
do. Do you know why? No matter how ugly it gets, you two always come back
with the stories. So... I'm Zoe. Now, what do I do?"
Mal: "Probably not talk quite so much."
Wash: "Right. Less talking. She's terse. I can be terse. Once in flight
school, I was laconic."
𝓝𝓮𝔀
𝓨𝓮𝒂𝓻