[ 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

[greenjacketed]

A shake of his head. Privates, he knew, were there to be shot. It was a gruesome affair but that was how wars were won. Men standing their ground and waiting out the bullets and the grazing cannonball.

"Apologies. I shouldn't be talking warfare, anyway."

[talentsgirl]

"What should you be talking about?"

She wasn't aware that there were limits on conversation, but if there were, it was probably something to laugh over. And she was more than willing to do that.

[greenjacketed]

"I imagine your work's less bloody...?"

[talentsgirl]

"Oh God, I hope so," she said, surprisingly fervently and equally impulsively. They were heading in to a battle, as soon as she returned, and the horrors Molly had seen were... significant, but she knew that they didn't compare to what she was about to experience. At least, not the ones she could remember. And Molly insanely, fervently hoped that she would come back with everyone that she went out with on that field.

...but then, saying anything like that would be near to Explaining and... she's not sure she's ready to do that yet. And that's why, not one heartbeat later, she turned to Sharpe, injected a slight impishness that she didn't feel into her tone, and asked, "Why? What did Harry tell you about our work?"

[greenjacketed]

"Detectives. He said the pair of you were detectives."

There was a twinge of...not quite disbelief, but at least uncertainty. Detectives made him thing of intelligence officers.

[talentsgirl]

So it was the standard 'it's not really a lie' cover. Molly nodded. "That's right. Or, well, he's the detective. He has the license. I'm still just learning."

[greenjacketed]

"...Didn't realize a man needed a license for that."

And now Sharpe sat back and wondered how he felt about a lady-detective. His gut reaction? Not bad at all. But then he wondered if it put her in the line of danger at all often and so he considered her for a moment.

And that's when the bottle of arack arrived, along with two glasses.

[talentsgirl]

Oh. Two glasses. She wasn't planning on having much, but it looked like she'd definitely be trying a little of it. What could she have just to keep him company if he wanted more to drink? It was early yet, and she had more to do, but for someone who hardly drank her alcohol tolerance was pretty good.

"Thank you," she said to the bartender with a smile. "If you could check to see if you have any mead back there, that would be great. I'm only going to try this."

The bartender responded positively to that smile, and went back to check. Molly turned that same smile on to Sharpe, "Do you want to pour or shall I?"

[greenjacketed]

"You'd best pour, lass. So none here get the wrong impression and suspect me of trying to get anyone drunk."

[talentsgirl]

"Oh, well, in that case," she opens the bottle and begins to pour it in the glass nearest him. "Say 'when.'"

[greenjacketed]

Oh, he allowed his to be quite generously filled before a soft almost-grunt to signify his when.

[talentsgirl]

She moved back to pour herself just under a finger in her own glass, the small charm on her bracelet glinting with the movement.

"I'm not that much of a drinker," she confessed. "I usually stay away from the harder stuff."

But soon the bartender will arrive with her mead and she'll be able to keep him company.

[greenjacketed]

He eyed the charm but said nothing on it. Yet. God-fearing, perhaps? Or superstitious? Catholic, maybe. Oh -- that made him think of Harper again with a pang in his chest.

"Army gives out rum rations. You learn to like it more than the brackish water left in your canteen after a few days of marching and kicking up dust."

He tilted his glass towards himself and sniffed. Pleased with the aroma.

[talentsgirl]

Molly nodded, swirling the liquid around in her glass before following his example. Huh.

"I guess you'd build up a tolerance pretty fast that way."

[greenjacketed]

"You do or you become the laughingstock of your company."

[talentsgirl]

"Never fun." And at that point, the bartender returned with a bottle of brew and a tall glass, so Molly thanked him and turned to Sharpe. "A toast?"

[greenjacketed]

He nodded as the clear-coloured liquor swirled in his cup.

"A toast. To making the best of a bad situation?"

[talentsgirl]

"I can drink to that." She raised her glass to him. "Cheers."

And then she moved to take a sip from her glass.

[greenjacketed]

He raised his own -- side-eying her from his seat before taking a deep, long drink. Ah, it burned as it went down. But the burn was pleasant.

Sweetened.

[talentsgirl]

It did burn going down, and Molly coughed a little when she finished her sip, eyes going wide. But then she took another sip, held it in her mouth a moment, and then swallowed - "Anise, right? It tastes a little like black licorice."

[greenjacketed]

"Don't know how they make it, Molly. This stuff does taste a bit unlike the brew they make in India." Or possibly the brew they made hundreds of years ago in India. Arack came in so many different forms across the world. Sharpe would be hard-pressed to find the exact kind he knew from the Indian campaign.

He took another long drink. "Maybe, though. Anise?" He considered the taste yet again. "Yes."

[talentsgirl]

"So it's not the same as you remember?" Curses, foiled again. Molly frowned down at the cup a little. Oh well.

"How does it compare?"

Because he was certainly drinking it so it wasn't as if he didn't like it.

[greenjacketed]

"It's still good. A little sweeter -- I think the Indian arack had coconut."

[talentsgirl]

"Hmm..." She contemplated her cup and took another sip. It was really kind of pleasant, actually, but she thought she'd be better off chasing it with the mead. So she moved to open the bottle. "You never know, the Indian arack might still show up here. This place has all kinds of drinks, even the sort I've only seen on television."

She pauses a bit and then rephrases, "The sort I've only heard about in stories that were supposed to just be make-believe. I'm going to have to try it one day, just... on a day when I have nothing in particular to do for the rest of that night or well into the next morning."

[greenjacketed]

"And on a day you'll also be inviting me down to witness, aye?"