talentsgirl | [ Action, Voice ] "You! What planet is this?"

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[So, after a month or so of study in shifts and things that mess with brains, Molly's ready to try an experiment. She attempts to say each of these in their regular languages: Spanish, Latin, French, and Chinese. All she gets for her efforts are a few words squeaking through Luceti's translation and a headache.]

I'm going to habla en Spanish.

Next to try nonnullus Latin.

I don't know many words in French but here it goes: belle, thanks, Camembert.

...Kung Pao Chicken.

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[She waits a bit for the headache to fade and then makes a general post.]

Two months in this place, and I feel like I'm still just getting my feet wet. I know everyone's getting adjusted with this whole new 'cycle,' but I wonder if a few people wouldn't mind answering a question: What language am I speaking right now?

[And in a bit, Molly will blow off her normal time at the library to enjoy the warm day and glorious weather in a pair of stonewashed cut-off shorts that are just a bit too short and a plain white men's T-shirt. She's roaming in and out of town, until eventually she finds a good hill to meditate on. Two months? Caution's getting thin. It's time to try and contact one of these filial spirits and just... start talking.]

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Better off making a stir fry then messing with the sanctity of pizza.

Oh! Or...a desert pizza. Chocolate chip cookie crust.

...see. Now you're talking. That's definitely going big.

Caramel for sauce. Ice cream. Peanuts.

Hola, darling. You are speaking English to my ears. But one can never tell in this place, can one?

[Sorry about your pebble turning back into a pebble after she walked away, Jack. >>]

That... seems to be the case, yes.

[And from someone who knows mind-messery, this is some MAJOR MIND MESSERY.]

...okay, that's it. It's definitely a good day for ice cream.

Let's see if you can interpret this for me, shall we?

[The next part is written in Creole. The journal quite easily translates it to English, though -- possibly before her eyes:]

Good con with the pebble, lovely.

Okay. So I'm a complete stranger but...I have a pint of chocolate chip mint in the freezer.

No, that takes no time at all. But you know what is time consuming? [Pause.] ...You not bringing me my Moo Shu Pork.

[He might be writing it in Creole, but it appears perfectly in English to Molly, much to her frustration.

She hunts around for a pen to respond. In Latin, blast it, because she hadn't spent years trying to learn it for it all to fall right out of her head.]

You mean I wasn't the one being conned with the pebble?

[...]

Well, why don't we fix the complete stranger bit before we go against all that 'Stranger Danger' brainwashing? I'm Molly.

That's what I'm told.

[It's close enough not to argue.]

...Is that spelled M-O-L-L-Y? [ because that means you can join her and sokka's club, molly. it's super special. ] I'm Buffy,

Shockingly enough, I have no plans of getting you Moo Shu Pork. We don't have a Chinese restaurant here.

That's the only way I know how to spell it.

[...Blond. And named Buffy.

...and hadn't Harry been going on about Willow for a while?

Hmm.]

Right. Buffy. Nice to meet you.

So - ice cream?