Molly Carpenter (
talentsgirl) wrote2012-03-14 11:26 am
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[ Action, Video, and Voice! ] Good Golly, Miss Molly .001
[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?]
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?]
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And also procure shoes. And her own clothes.
God help me.
"Do you think they'd be willing to lend a cup of coffee? I've been trying to give up caffeine, but I think today calls for it."
Flippancy was occasionally her friend.
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What? He might be rough, but he was still British. "There are places for that sort of thing."
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You can't think if you're clouded by emotions, Molly.
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A mission. Fantastic.
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"You would?" A shock of disbelief. "Aye. You're quite welcome." A beat. "Molly."
1/3
You're the only person I know here, after all.
She tilted her head a little inquiringly, but she's not quite sure what she's asking--
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"Molly...?" Her warmth and his concern now made titles and superfluous words meaningless. It didn't take much for Sharpe to care.
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"I just stepped on something a little sharp."
Fortunately, she'd kept a scrap of her dress for just such an occasion wrapped around her wrist, so she immediately takes it off to secure it around the wound. This was a bit awkward to do while standing on one foot, and embarrassing, but Molly just focused on the task at hand.
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"...May I?" He made to kneel. It's okay, Molly. He's not going to go assuming he can touch your toes.
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All the same, she'd really rather do it herself. Her mouth twists with wry resignation and some humor, "Will I be back to 'Miss' if I do it myself?"
A less straightforward way of asking how much it will bother him - because, of course, she thinks, he won't admit to it bothering him at all.
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She didn't want him to. That was fine. He stood again -- arms at his sides.
"See to it. Stumble again, though, and I won't hesitate to toss you over my shoulder."
A...joke. Probably.
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That was more habitual snark than anything, though, she honestly believed he would try it and couldn't see it going well for either of them. She'd just have to keep watching her feet.
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"Because I'm determined to walk as long as I'm able."
...she has her pride too. They might have dumped her in the middle of someplace strange and stuck wings on her back and ripped her away from her home, but she was still Molly Carpenter and at the very least she could walk on her own two feet.
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Okay. That time it was simply sheer trollitude behind his use of 'Miss'.
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"Watch out," she said as she stood - okay, ow - "I'll start calling you 'Mr. Richard' and you'll see how you like it."
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And she certainly will, if only to figure out how best to abuse it. Proper. Ha.
She started walking again, putting a little less weight on her injured foot.
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Until that point, Sharpe had made a show of walking a decent few paces before her. Not wanting to stifle her apparently very independent nature.
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Her smile remained slightly wry and mildly pained, "But it could be a lot worse."
And as soon as she said that, she winced. Hero's rule Number 7, Molly. Never comment on the fact that it isn't raining. Or that you're not being chased by vampires, zombies, or other things out to get your blood - it's the surest way that they'll come.
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*grinned, /sob
IT'S COOL.
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yeah that's the secret weapon icon i guess.
LOL - it may be, at that
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