[ Action, Video, and Voice! ] Good Golly, Miss Molly .001

[talentsgirl]

[Molly woke up on her side, in pain, and cold.

That's strange. I wasn't asleep a moment ago. Was I?

Also, her brain felt fuzzy. That wouldn't do. Deep breaths, Molly, and she remained still and safe for a moment - movement was a tell, and until she had her focus back she wasn't going to do anything until she was sure she could hide. Then slowly, Molly sat up.]

Woah.

[She was on top of a tree house. In what looked like a tree village, no less. And where the heck were her clothes?]

Let me guess. I'm not in Kansas anymore.

[Molly twisted around to try to see the source of pain on her back, only for bright pink to meet her eye - a single pink wing! With a blue one to match. Oh. Hahahahahaha, this must be a dream. She gave a light tug on one of her wings and the dull pain turned into a shooting one which made her grit her teeth against the sudden flare behind her eyes. OK, girl. The wings stay on. And if this was an illusion, it was a hell of one to sustain that much pain. She glanced around, found, and opened the journal.

Huh.]

...a magic book with my name on it. That's not at all suspicious. Well, I guess I'm already through the looking glass...

Hello, in the book! I'm looking for a white rabbit, he was supposed to give me the time. Or maybe the place? Either way, I'm late for an important date.

[No time to say hello, goodbye... either way, she couldn't sit around waiting for the magic book to talk back. Magic didn't work that way. And it was still here, she could feel it humming but... faint. And very much like it was through a looking glass. Strange.

Either way, she wasn't one to just sit around in a tower - or a treehouse - and wait to be rescued. She held the book carefully opened by inserting one finger in it and closing the book around it in case of a response, not knowing that flashes of video could escape through it as well, and began to make her way down as best as she could in a dress entirely too short for her long legs and thin enough to hint at just how low the thorn tattoo starting high at her neckline curved down. Time to wander the forest in hope of... something. Some kind of clue or direction.]

[Part the Second: Or if you'd rather not rescue/inform a New Feather]

[Clothed in jeans a light jacket, and boots, one tall young lady is poking about all the shops in the square. Maybe you'll run into her there?]

Comments

[greenjacketed]

His steps were very prim. He was rough around his edges but his posture was erect. Years of drills and parade marches and life as a private kept him well-standing.

"They say the housing's free, there."

[talentsgirl]

"'They say?'" She glanced over at him. "You said you got here yesterday - where did you stay?"

[greenjacketed]

Miss Katara would be so disappointed. Sharpe had done as any rifleman would have done -- find a dip in the woods, use your coat and pack blanket. Deal with the cold. He'd slept through many a snowy night in the war. Once you got into those mountains...

"Ain't important, lass. But there's a sort of welcoming inn where they'll take you, I suppose."

[talentsgirl]

"That's good to know..." she let his dodge go, but filed it away, concentrating on where she's stepping. She avoided the little stones, the upturned roots as best she could. "And the clothes? They're free too?"

Not that his greatcoat isn't great and all, but until she has her feet completely underneath her, Molly would prefer to be wearing boots. And pants. And a bra... wow, she really hopes they have bras here. If the way Richard speaks is any indication, that's the age of corsets and that would just be a pain.

[greenjacketed]

"Indeed, Miss Molly." Oh look. He's back to that. "No money nor bartering goods needed."

[talentsgirl]

She noticed. And she's not sure what she wants to do about it yet, or what brought it on and so she just grumbled, "Good, because-" I don't have a stitch on me, but considering that particular reaction wasn't the one that she wanted to suss out, Molly modified her statement. "-I'm not in any position to pay anyone back right now."

And she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

[greenjacketed]

"You and I both."

For he suspected that this was the sort of town where London bankers feared to tread. His treasures from India, a year's salary in French gold, and other saved and pinched riches were well outside of his grasp. Not that Sharpe was a spender. Lord, no.

"But I've been assured that we are to be provided for, here."

[talentsgirl]

"Assured by whom?" She flicked a glance up at his face and then back down to her feet. "The guide?"

[greenjacketed]

"A girl. A girl named Katara. A veteran of this place."

Only now was he realizing that she didn't look him in the eyes. Who could blame her? He thought. Face like this -- that scar along his right cheek.

[talentsgirl]

Well, on the plus side, she was mostly just watching her feet here. But he was quite right, she'd hardly looked him in the eyes for more than a second or two.

"'Katara?'"

That doesn't British name, so... that's good too, at least. Maybe there was someone from her home and... she's starting to think... time.

"How long do you have to be here in order to be a veteran?"

[greenjacketed]

"In my eyes? Any who've been here more'n a week seems older than dirt. But I take it there're those who've lived here for years, Miss Molly."

[talentsgirl]

And there's the 'Miss' again. She was really going to have to do something about that.

...however, there was still something more important.

"Years?" She glanced up at him quickly before again, returning her gaze to her feet. "I guess that makes sense, someone had to write that guide, but... that's a little... creepy."

[greenjacketed]

"Years." He repeated -- pushing all of his own disbelief into the word. And so he kept walking. Walking on until eventually. "Your feet...? Are they...?"

Alright?

[talentsgirl]

"I'll be grateful for some boots," she admitted it. "But I'm okay."

There was no way she was letting him carry her unless her feet were bleeding and she couldn't walk any more. "At least there's no snow on the ground."

[greenjacketed]

"Aye. It'd be hard sleeping, otherwise."

[talentsgirl]

She glanced at him curiously, because words and time and anachronisms were much easier to think about than years. "Hard sleeping?"

[greenjacketed]

His face might've coloured were it not so dark already. Spanish tan. Had he misspoke? Too rough? Too lower class?

"Difficult, ma'am." Ah. Bad habits reared their heads. "A difficult time to be had, sleeping in snow."

[talentsgirl]

...and now it was 'ma'am.' She won't call him on it.

"Oh - that makes sense. Maybe it's one of those British/American things?"

...okay, yes, she totally was going to call him on it. "And 'ma'am' is what people call my mother. It's Molly, remember? Molly."

[greenjacketed]

"The British and American have more in common than any of us think, perhaps..." He recalled what Leroy -- loyalist, but only barely -- had told him.

"Either way, I am grateful for the bare ground."

[talentsgirl]

...yeah, he just completely ignored her, didn't he. She huffed a little and continued to tromp along. "Me too. About how much longer do you think it is to town?"

She'd have to figure out another way to get him to drop this.

[greenjacketed]

Of course he ignored her. He couldn't argue the point and yet didn't want to drop it; how else could he avoid the subject?

"Not long now. You can see -- almost..." He raised a hand and pointed at the tree tops. "There. They have these mighty tall structures."

[talentsgirl]

She glanced towards where he was pointing and mentally gauged the distance. "So maybe about a half hour."

And Molly wondered if sitting for a moment would be a bad or good idea. "So... big buildings. Are there a lot of people trapped in here?"

[greenjacketed]

"Hundreds. Which makes it a proper little village, I suppose. With shops and a schoolhouse for the little ones. There are little ones, here. Children."

[talentsgirl]

"Oh." That knowledge felt like a punch to the gut. Not being able to protect herself, that was bad enough, but knowing that there were children taken from their homes and used for experimentation... it was sickening and grievous, and in the distance of her mental landscape Molly felt herself starting to get very angry with a coldness that burned.

That anger will be very well hidden - distant - but it may be enough for Sharpe to detect how that effected her that all her customary good cheer slipped off her face. She looked a touch pale.

[greenjacketed]

He expected no less for he felt the same chilled disgust and derision. Perhaps it comforted him to recognize it only briefly on the woman's face.

"The others seem to look after'em well enough, lass." Soft. Natural. Lass.