[ Action, Voice ] Onions have layers, ogres have layers .002

[talentsgirl]

[Today Molly Carpenter is in your community buildings, exploring the floors and kitchens and opening (hopefully unoccupied!) random doors. Why is she doing this? She's not quite settled that Community Building Six is the best place for her and Harry to be, so far away from town, and collect evidence to present her case. Also - hey, strolling down someone's apartment corridor could be a great way to meet people!

And secretly, she's looking for thresholds. It makes sense that there aren't any here - five years, at most, being kept in a place against your will - could that even form a threshold? She didn't know, but it was so terribly contrary to her understanding of magic that she had to investigate.

Later in the day, a series of filters starting at 5 and not working their way up past 15 percent will appear in the journal followed by a voice post.]


[Filter at 5 percent]
Testing, testing... so you actually can do this.
[Filter at 10 5 percent]
Testing... drat.
[Filter at 10 7 percent]
Test, test - man, I thought for sure that would work
[Filter at 15 percent]
Ah-ha! Think I'm getting it now...
[Filter at 20 15 percent]
Test... nope.
[Filter at 20 15 percent]
Maybe this will--
[Filter at 20 15 percent]
Oh, come on!


Hi! So. Sorry if anyone bothered with that. I'm trying to get the hang of this "filtering" thing but it's just not like anything I've ever done before. If a couple wouldn't mind putting up some really low, easy filters in this post against me, I'd really appreciate it. That way I could try to sort of... learn it backwards? Thanks.

Comments

[ voice ]

[talentsgirl]

[She wondered if some of the locals he was talking about even knew English. But. Best not to go there, really.]

Really? Where were you?

[ voice ]

[greenjacketed]

[ generally, sharpe had been impressed with how quickly the locals picked up all sorts of languages. most -- in spain, especially -- had welcomed the british army as the ousted the french.

the british, after all, paid for their billets. ]

Copenhagen. But only briefly, lass. Then Portugal and Spain for the last few years.

[ voice ] I'm not even sure which tags I'm prosing with you anymore

[talentsgirl]

[She blinked. Her tone is one of surprise.]

Denmark. I didn't realize the fighting spread there. I guess I should see if I can hunt up a [don't say history, don't say history] book about it to catch up if I don't want to sound ignorant.

rofl. and i might be making mistakes -- i'm tagging while essay-writing

[greenjacketed]

It weren't a pretty fight. [ not that any of them were, but this one had taken quite a moral toll. ] Denmark was neutral but Boney was set to invade. The British Army thought to do something about that.

[ sharpe had actually been there on a different mission. top secret, for the crown, utmost confidential. but he leaves that part out. ]

I'm flattered to be a distraction o/

[talentsgirl]

Are England and Denmark allies, then?

[Or did you just not want them gaining a foothold?]

[greenjacketed]

Not really, no.

We wanted their fleet. We didn't want France to take their fleet. So we took it instead. [ he uses a very distant we. ]

[talentsgirl]

Oh. [Ahahahaha, let's just change the subject now, Molly.] The things you miss when you cut 7th period history.

[greenjacketed]

A minor battle. I were only an Ensign, then. I'd be surprised if they taught it at all.

[ AHA. so she is educated... ]

[talentsgirl]

[And when he says Ensign, her brain once again goes straight to Star Trek.]

If they did, I don't remember it.

[Molly, you are doing such a terrible job changing the topic of conversation. Think, girl, think.]

[greenjacketed]

[ HERE. let richard change it for you.

with an awkward cough and clearing of his throat: ] Been to India, too.

[talentsgirl]

[Oh, that's infinitely better, thank you.

And she doesn't even have to force interest.]

Really? What was that like?

[greenjacketed]

Hot. [ he confesses. and there were too many vultures. however... ] I liked it. I liked India. They make a drink, there...oh, it's something to taste. Arrack.

[talentsgirl]

Arrack? [She gets the pronunciation... right! Go, Molly.]

I've never heard of it. What kind of drink is it?

[greenjacketed]

Liquor. And strong liquor, at that. If the army couldn't drum up our rum rations, we got it instead.

[talentsgirl]

[Strong liquor really isn't one of Molly's Things. New experiences, though, are.]

Maybe the bar here has it. They have stuff from all over the place.

[They even have Romulan Ale, which Molly is determined to try... one day when she doesn't have to get up the next day.

Because. Come on. It's Romulan Ale.]

They even have drinks I've only heard about in stories!

[greenjacketed]

Maybe. Wouldn't be so bad to taste it again. India was good to me.

[talentsgirl]

[...you sound like you're getting nostalgic and/or depressed, which is really the opposite of what anyone needs. So.]

This sounds like it calls for an investigation. It so happens that I happen to be near town. If it so happens that you would also like to investigate, then it might be possible to collaborate in about... ten minutes or so.

[greenjacketed]

Aye. Molly. I'll gladly collaborate with you.

Ten minutes -- pub?

[talentsgirl]

[With mock solemnity:] For the sake of the investigation.

/yeah yeah prose

[greenjacketed]

And so -- in ten minutes sharp -- Richard stood outside the doors to Good Spirits. A soldier learned to be timely and exact in his schedule and while the Major had never owned a watch, he had never truly felt the need of one. The sun served as well as a clock-face and his body had a good sense for the passing hours.

It should be noted that he looked very smart indeed, despite his still-absent green jacket. His trousers were brushed down and his shirt was creamy white and clean. Somehow, the man had re-learned how to shave without Harper there to help him.

and now everything matches aka: in which I get derailed forever looking for Molly's outfit

[talentsgirl]

A proper shave was certainly a key part of a gentleman's wardrobe, and Molly does not fail to notice that he is looking very sharp indeed. She, on the other hand, is wearing distressed jeans, boots, a belted green tunic and light jacket. Three buttons on the top of the tunic were undone, revealing the white wife-beater beneath that managed to hide most of the tattoo which started up above the neckline.

She smiles when she sees him. "You beat me!"

[greenjacketed]

"First thing a private learns in training, Molly? Don't you dare ever be late. They'll have your hide, they will." A lop-sided smile. He couldn't help but adore her choice of colour palette and has never failed to admire a woman in trousers. Yet again, he thought of Teresa.

His gaze touched and lingered only briefly on the visible lick of ink before he turned abruptly and opened the door for her.

[talentsgirl]

It wasn't very often Molly felt self-conscious about her choice of clothes or any of her tattoos - and in fact, self-conscious wasn't what she was feeling right now. She was who she was. But right now she was out of time, place, and even space, and she wondered what of herself she was communicating to others of a different world or era with her choices.

"Thank you," she said, and moved to enter the Good Spirits, which was, she thought, a horrible pun. "How have you been?"

[greenjacketed]

"As well as any soul could expect to be in a situation like this one. You, lass?"

He tapped the side of his thumb against his thigh. He wanted to tell her about his mate Dresden and learning that she and he were from the same Chicago. Anxious, indeed, for this conversation. But he allowed it to rest as they approached the counter.

[talentsgirl]

Not to fear, Sharpe. Molly's got no reason to keep it a secret, and Harry being here is really the best thing ever.

"Good! Better than I thought I would when I last saw you," she confides as they approached the bar. "My boss from home is here."