Molly Toombs
For the day before the fall of night had
been so lovely, and Molly had the good fortune of having the evening
off of work, she had opted to take advantage of the late afternoon and
early evening by going out. The weather was nice, her puppy needed
walking, and she had plenty to ponder quietly and contentedly to herself
while making her way. With no true agenda or shopping to accomplish,
she'd taken her bicycle out, put little Florence in the front basket,
and went on her way.
After the sun had slipped below the Rocky
Mountain horizon, Molly was still to be found out and about. At this
time, she was in the Santa Fe arts district of the city. The weather
was lovely, even after the sun had gone, the earth still warm from it,
so galleries that were still open to the public had their front doors
open, and couples and friends clustered patios and the sidewalks in
front of establishments without outdoor seating to chat and eat and
smoke their cigarettes.
Molly was no longer riding her bicycle,
but walked it beside her instead. Both hands were on the handle bars,
but from one trailed a black leash that was attached to the little
puppy's harness. It walked nearby Molly's feet, happily sniffing
everywhere she went.
Kragen, wherever he may happen to be when he
spies Molly, will find her hair longer and a different color, but that
aside she seems just the same-- no scarring, no trauma lingering in her
eyes or making her features gaunt, no weight loss, no pulse loss
either. She seemed plump and pink and healthy as can be, dressed in a
dark green knee-length skirt with a white tank-top and a brown cardigan
overtop. Her hair, rich red with bangs cut straight across the
forehead, was pinned up in a high preppy ponytail. She intermitantly
reached for a water bottle kept on the bike's frame, but other than that
looked simply like a woman in motion-- travelling from point A to point
B.
Kragen Kingsmith
Oh that sweet desert air, It
was good to feel it in his lungs, that seemingly fresh and unspoilt
atmosphere mixed with a subtle touch of chemicals and pollution, you
never could get away from the pollution, not anymore especially when you
smoked as constantly as the old mercenary did. 'I'd be a biological
disaster in another era.' He often mused to himself, but such thoughts
were not his tonight.
No because Kragen was back in Denver, he was
back in the city which had entered a cold war state, back to see if
there was work to be had, damage to be done. It had been many months
since Molly Toombs and the Kingsmith had crossed paths, and in that time
Molly had not changed save for the alteration of her hair, but then
some women changed their hair on an almost daily basis, so such was
hardly a subject of intense wonder.
Kragen was here...well for a
variety of reasons, the arts district held some of his favourite shops
in the city, from a tiny little smoke shop to one of the most enjoyable
pubs, the man moved in that languid swagger from place to place, letting
folks know he was back, letting them know old routines would continue,
the king was back....
it was as Kragen stood just outside that
particular bar, cigarette shoved between those rakish arrogant lips that
he spies Molly with those dangerous grey eyes. He spies her, and almost
passes her over, but then he is turning, turning to move, that swagger
carrying him on an intercept course that even the fates could not avoid.
He
was wearing a dark red suit tonight, the fitting slip shod and the
quality as questionable as ever but like all of his suits it seemed
right, it seemed him.
"Well well well, if it isn't Miss Molly."
That rolling tone reaching out to snare her, to drag her attention
kicking and screaming to him. "My eyes do not deceive me, and my sense
of hospitality shall despair, for I am a generous man tonight."
Molly Toombs
An
attentive thing, an observant thing, Molly Toombs didn't often miss
much about her surroundings. She'd always been watchful and mindful,
this being perhaps a simple survival instinct that she was fortunate
enough to retain, considering the company she's been keeping over the
past several months. One such bit of company, like several others, had
completely slipped from the radar. Kragen Kingsmith, Moly knew, was a
Ghoul man-for-hire of sorts. He had no bound, not like other Ghouls she
was aware of, not like the traditional one, so he was not stuck in the
same place as any one particular Undead person. She hadn't seen him in
some time, so she presumed that business had carried him away elsewhere,
or that he was laying low, or something. Then, with other things
crowding her mind, she had simply not worried over the subject.
This,
the fact that as far as she knew Kragen had been gone for some time,
was probably why she didn't pick him out of the milling bodies in front
of a bar tonight. He had to step out away from the wall, from the
hovering miasma of nicotine, and speak her name to catch her attention.
Eyes
sharpend as though pulled from a deep line of introspection, and
Molly's expression went from utterly neutral to defensive to surprised.
She stopped walking her bike, and the lanky little brown Rhodesian
Ridgeback puppy at her ankles stretched against the harness to continue
sniffing, seamlessly shifting from smelling at the curb and gutter to
sniffing at Kragen's shoes.
The swing-shift trauma nurse first
looked surprised to be approached, then appeared a different sort of
surprised (pleasantly, at least a little) when she recognized the
gray-eyed man before her. Blinking to clear the startled look away, she
then grinned a lopsided smile and shifted her position to more of a
stand-still.
"And if it isn't Mr. Kingsmith. Back in town again,
huh?" She glanced over his suit, hands and arms and chest. Maybe just
making sure that his Ghoulish condition hadn't deteriorated somehow
since she'd seen him last. It probably hasn't. She looked back to his
face and lifted her eyebrows. "And a generous Kragen, too? This is my
lucky night. How are you?"
Kragen Kingsmith
"I am
loquacious as always, and fit to boot." He said with a roll of his hand
and a strange, energetic little bow. "My pockets are also full and my
inner fire burning like an unquenchable inferno." His eyes flashing like
coals as he said so. "To put it finely, and without to much of a head, I
am quite suitably well Miss Molly." Fine indeed he seemed, not a day
older, not a scar greater Kragen was the vision of barely contained
energy and chaos.
"And to answer your prior question...." He said
as he slowly squatted down, a hand extended towards the tiny animal at
his black and unpolished shoe, an act which may, or may not have the
animal run back to its mistress. "I am....all the desert air and
mountain views in the world will not pay my bills, and so I went abroad,
in search of greener pastures." He gestures absently if the dog had
run, if it had remained he stroked it firmly that knife wound grin
unfailing before he stood.
"And generous indeed, all you simply
need to do is put that bike aside and follow me into the growing dark."
He said extending a hand to Molly, a brow raised and a rakish grin
replacing that knife like arrogance.
"Dare you dance with me? My dear miss Molly?"
Molly Toombs
The
pup did not flee Kragen, provided there were no supernatural energies
about him that would naturally repel her. When he stooped down to
extend a hand, the young dog sniffed very seriously at hit before
licking knuckles and pushing her head into his palm for ear and neck
scratches. When he straightened, the pup would go back to being a
fairly well-behaved pup near Molly's ankles.
Molly, in the
meanwhile, kept her hands on the bike's handlebars to keep it upright,
and watched Kragen attentively while he spoke. The lopsided half-smile
never faded entirely from her face, but remained simply as a lighter,
more absent version of its prior self. Clearly, she was pleased for
this encounter. Often she treated things supernatural and Not Quite
Living (but look, the pulse! the warm skin! he's alive, sincerely)
with suspicion and distrust, but Kragen had earned her alliance with
much information shared. He'd figured that out about her right out the
gate-- Molly's greatest form of currency was knowledge. The fastest way
to her favor was not through her stomach, as the saying goes, but
through her mind. She was grateful for what he had told her, knowing he
probably wasn't supposed to, but what did Kragen care? He seemed to
exist outside of this Church and State war that the two sects of
vampires had going on, anyways.
So, when he offered his hand and
asked her to dance with him in the dark, Molly laughed. Clearly
charmed, she took one hand from her bike, the one not already dedicated
to keeping the puppy's leash, and accepted his hand. She didn't move
off the sidewalk yet, though, and instead posed the question with
laughter still on her voice:
"Dance with you where, Mr. Kragen? And who ever will keep Florence here safe?"
Kragen Kingsmith
"Why
through the fires of a reignited hell of course." He said with an
insatiable, manic laugh. It lasts for a long moment as he took her hand
and stepped closer, his voice returning to a more indoor tone as he
tilted his head. "Or if the lady prefers there is a fine set of
floorboards not far from here that would do well to be graced by such as
you." He chuckled deeply as he looked down at Florence.
"As to
your companion, your cowardless lion, your stout tin pooch I say there
will be a place for her, and so there will be. Such doors are rarely a
problem when one knows the perfect, universal key." His voice becoming
smooth and appreciative as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it
with all the rakish foolery at his ample disposal.
A laugh erupted
once more then as the mercenary enjoyed the moment in his curious,
esoteric and possibly mad way before he placed her hand upon his chest
[all to feel that true beat of the living] in a touching, if duplicious
gesture. He leaned close then, those fierce grey eyes locking on Molly's
as he said in a whisper.
"I do hope our little palaver had bore
you in beautiful, if brutal standing." He tilted his head and let those
lips twitch into a more manic grin. "Because I've been called
back...which means things may soon...be getting very very dangerous."
Molly Toombs
The
humor to Molly always played well with the humor to Kragen-- it had
even from their initial first talks. Their Wit would come together and
hold hands and twist and frolic like well-coordinated birds in the sky,
or sly animals in the grass. So, for how thick he laid it on her, she
didn't flush embarrassed or scold him or any such negativity.
Like a teenager with rocks tapping at her window, Molly was easily called out by the adventures Kragen promised.
Her
fingers were kissed, and she raised one eyebrow at him in question.
When he pressed her hand onto his chest, though, she chuckled a little
and let her eyes follow the motion. She could feel his heart thumping
away, continuing its work long and strong and aided to that strength by
the supernatural elements that Kragen replenished with. Her palm slid
just a little higher, to the left to more easily locate the thump-thump
and hold it in her hand.
When he leaned in to confess quietly that
he was summoned back, that dangers were bound to be on their way,
Molly's interest was clearly piqued. It showed in how her eyes
sharpened, focused in on this new hint of knowledge and things going
on. She didn't need to lean in conspiratorially with him, he had
already closed plenty of distance on his own. Instead, she stared back
at him for a few ticks of the second hand before glancing back down to
the pup as though considering what to do with her.
"Well, now I
have absolutely no reason to turn you down." The grin pulled more
strongly at her mouth again. "And you even titillated my curiosity--
how could I?" She rubbed one of his suit jacket lapels between her
fingers, then chuckled and let loose her hand and arm-- not pulling away
if he was still holding it there, but if his grip wasn't firm or
present her hand would gravitate back to her bicycle, making her ready
to continue along to wherever it was this pied piper would lead.
"Would you tell me who called you back?"
Kragen Kingsmith
Kragen
did not restrain her hand when she sought to reclaim it, not even for a
fraction of a second. He released her digits into her own care his aim
complete, it was always kind to let someone know you were still alive
after all, even if the dead could keep walking and talking. She stood
there prepared to walk and Kragen grinned ear to ear as he pulled that
cigarette of his from between his lips and tossed its barely lit remains
to the concrete street beside them. He stepped down then, crushing the
butt beneath one solid heel as he gestured for Molly to follow, though
he did not stray from her side as he spoke quietly.
"My watchers
have called me back, men and women in the employ of Dogwood to watch
over contractually active area's...such as your fine city." He said with
a throaty chuckle as he walked them across the street, daring traffic
to take a chance...and watch the results if they did.
"When they
do that however, it is because they believe things are about to come to a
head, that the cold war in which we sit will soon become very, very
hot. Of course...only one soul holds an active contract in this
city...and we both know him quite well." He narrowed his eyes and
lowered his chin to look at Molly his expression one knowing certainty
before he let out a little tune. "When it rains, it pours, and when it
pours...everything floods." The final word was emphasized, made potent
by the press of sound and Kragen nodded.
"Though I've yet to talk
to him, yet to lay eyes upon eyes of that sordid king in his silken
finery. You my dear Molly are the first soul of note, the first and
foremost of note, that I have seen since my return, do tell me you feel
honoured, do tell me true." He said as he walked on, turning a corner
and gesturing to an old brick building.
"There lies our
destination, an older and rougher floor to traipse across you will never
find, but you gotta admit, they serve some great booze, and offer the
most interesting music."
Molly Toombs
When they're
back in motion, making their way down the sidewalk, they take their
time and walk at a pace built for talking. He kept at one side, and she
walked with her bicycle on the other. Florence, that stout tin
lion-pup, plodded along in front of them. She didn't bark or growl or
whine at things in passing, but was the watchful, observant, sniffing
sort instead.
Despite the weeks, months, an entire season passed
since they'd seen one another, not much seems to have changed. Kragen
was generous tonight, he'd said so himself, and stood true to that with
telling her up front what she was hoping to hear-- why he was back, what
dangers he was talking about, who had summoned him, what she should be
aware of. As had always been the case, Molly listened carefully, did
not interrupt, and soaked up everything he had shared like a sponge.
So,
Flood had called him back. Perhaps he had seen something, or probably
even done something, that would stir things up again. Molly wasn't
aware of the full dynamics of this constant feud between the two
sections of vampire society, but she did know it was an old, old
conflict. She imagined, as many old conflicts, it had the potential to
errupt into great and terrible violence, but there were bound to be
moments of shaky peace and treaty as well. She hasn't seen the great
violence, or felt the stress and danger of war around her ears or head
either. She hasn't seen battle wounds or witnessed fights in these
people, but according to Kragen that was all soon to change. Or so
Flood seemed to think.
She was considering giving the tall shadowy
undead man a call sometime soon to inquire, but did not give too much
time to that thought process. Soon they were at the destination that
Kragen had in mind.
"Of course I'm honored," she provided when
appropriate within the conversation, and after setting her bicycle up
near the wall and using the bike lock to chain it safely in place, Molly
scooped up the little brown puppy and cradled her against her chest and
ribs with one arm. The dog, apparently accustomed to this, nestled
comfortably into place instantly. The nurse adjusted her skirt, pulled
the hem loose and free with her spare hand and looked over the bar
front.
"So, is it too hopeful of me to look forward to some really
good insight and advice on what I should be expecting when this cold
war boils over? Or what I should be particularly.... careful of, I
suppose?" She looked from the bar front over and up the handful of
inches between their heads, and there was a definite crease of concern
to be found under the otherwise cheery demeanor she's had this evening.
She's worried that if a war's about to grow and burst, then there will
be recruiting, and she could think of a few people that may try to reach
out to her for this case.
"I mean, of course, this would be while we're dancing." The concern was chased away, replaced with a closed-lipped smirk.
Kragen Kingsmith
"Ahhh
you do indeed hope beyond hope." Kragen said with a dark little chuckle
as he leaned over to Molly. "But you pay in such fine currency, how
could I refuse. There is a great deal to know, and a great deal to
watch. For most the war will never be seen, never be felt, but for the
likes of you...." He said ominously, gesturing to Molly. "There is great
promise, danger, and servitude to be found...if one is not careful, or
perhaps is too careful instead."
They strode through the doorway
of the bar come dance hall the bike left in the world outside as
Florence is brought along raised up as if she might well be Molly's
purse or clutch but was instead a breathing inquisitive creature...much
like her mistress.
Kragen led Molly within and the sound of music
wafted harmoniously through the close quarters of the bars entry. To
there left was a coat check with a woman seated behind it, who seemed to
recognize Kragen as he strode up and leaned on the lip of the coatcheck
door and grinned with manic force.
"Sasha...take care of this
fine little creature would you?" He said gesturing to Florence. "She is a
lady of high standing, and would certainly enjoy your company over the
dangerous predations of those dancing fools beyond." He gestured for
Molly to hand over Florence.
Molly Toombs
Once
inside, there was a coat check to be found, and a woman tending it named
Sasha. Here, Kragen stopped and spoke familiarly with her, and asked
for her to take fine care of the pup. Molly, when gestured to go along
with it, blinked in surprise, then smiled pleasantly and politely as she
could muster and scruffed the pup's side with her free hand and told
her: "Be good, Flo. Take a nap or something." And then, assuming the
woman was compliant (and why wouldn't she be?), the puppy was handed
over. Florence seemed okay with this, happy for whatever attention she
was getting, but was still watchful when Molly walked away. She was
young, but she would grow up into a good protector at this pace.
Other
than that, with no coat to check, Molly had nothing else to give, and
would walk with Kragen to the bar or a table or the dance floor,
wherever it was he was aimed to go. He had invited her along to dance
in the dark, after all. These were his shots to call, and she would
follow until she decided she was done.
"So, I suppose the best
thing for me is to just... Keep on keeping on?" She glanced to Kragen
for confirmation, and grinned a little bit bashfully-- like she felt
like she should have had something more poetic to say to continue with
their back-and-forth, but simply didn't. It was played off with a
simple rolling shrug of one shoulder.
"Just stay alert and ready, I mean. It's kept me intact this far."
Kragen Kingsmith
Once
inside the music can be heard more plainly, its a band, a proper band
of many pieces and many players, all putting together a tune that was
lively and easily danced. Some might call the music peppy or swing, but
in truth it was just a tune meant to keep people on the floor regardless
of what they might call it.
Kragen strode along past a series of
tables on a raised platform, against the wall to their right ran the
bar, and to their left was a railing, which guarded the dance floor two
feet below. Many people danced at the moment, and a few simply sat and
drank, it seemed that if you came here, you were here for the former and
not the latter.
"That my dear molly depends on just how hot the
fires of war burn." He said ominously as the man moved past the tables
and the bar, instead heading directly for the dance floor where couples
moved about, dancing this way and that...but it was obvious this was not
todays dancing, but couples dancing, in the older form like one found
in the old country.
Once down on the floor Kragen turned with a
hint of a flourish, that rakish arrogant grin becoming omni present as
he held out his hand to take Molly's as if to draw her into the
maelstrom of those partners dancing this way and that. "And with whom
you make your camp. If you do at all." He said watchful, perhaps even
curious as to just what Molly had been up to in the last few months.
"Some
may simply wish to make you cold and dark, to become a nightwalker
yourself, and serve them in their own little wars...but...if true war is
sparked and the city runs red...then even the alert and the innocent
might not be spared the grasp of an early grave...and a painful
reawakening."
Molly Toombs
Through the bar, Molly
walked alongside a man who looked old enough to be more appropriately
her uncle, possibly her father if her father was a young man when he
sired her. But she walked a half a step behind him while he led to the
floor, stepping behind when they had to squeeze through a table or other
spaces that were not wide enough for two people. Molly didn't walk
uncomfortably with him, though. It seemed that the understanding of
extended mortality and immortality at its core took the support beams
out of any qualms with age gaps that she may have had before.
She
glanced curiously about the place, checking out the general demographic
at first, then the bar options, then the band, all while following and
listening. She liked the place, and was surprised to have never come
here before. Something about it felt like a page out of a book more
than an actual establishment you'd expect to find in the twenty-first
century. She'd have to get a matchbook or something to remember it for
later.
When they had made it down on the dance floor, and Kragen
had swirled about to extend a hand and show off a little, Molly grinned
and shook her head at him, but was a contrary thing and put her hand in
his all the same.
"From the sound of it, I might need to take a
camp whether I really want to or not. Just to have someone who can put
their name and reputation in front of mine, you know?" Molly did her
best to come across as dignified, for she felt as such, but she tried
not to be proud to any kind of a fault. She knew that she couldn't
reasonably defend herself against these things that were likely to come
after her and utilize her if shit hit the fan-- she'd been outright told
that she was perceived as quite useful by more than one of these Undead
things. She would need someone to shelter her instead.
"So, you're telling me this has the potential of turning Denver into some Undead Apocalypse?"
So dramatic, Moll.
Molly Toombs
[Dexterity 3 + Athletics 2: Let's dance like a lady, please (WP: I'M SO SELF-CONSCIOUS)]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 4, 4, 8) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Kragen Kingsmith
[The lady dances, how does the gentleman maniac fair?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 10) ( success x 3 )
Kragen Kingsmith
She
had given him her hand, and just as he promised, Kragen Kingsmith
pulled Molly Toombs onto the dance floor, joining the crowd of dancers
as they danced their ways across the floor boards. Molly follows suit
easily enough, the spin of the motions she is lead into by Kragen
followed easily enough to which the man raised his brows in quiet
question, yet another skill the redoubtable Molly had shown him.
So
he didn't slow as he talked amongst the din, his lips pulling into that
knifes edge smile as he sighed in relish. "Oh dear Molly, I do love
your sense of the dramatic." He drew her close so that their words would
be only for them as they moved through the bodies and the music. "An
apocalypse is unlikely, though they speak of it often, but a war that
costs many lives, both living and unliving....most certainly." He almost
seems to welcome it with that look of excitement on his features, but
then Kragen was...well he was a mercenary, where many lived for their
professions, so to did he.
But he grimaces as if having tasted
something foul as he dipped Molly suddenly, that look of unpleasantness
mixing with the words. "Molly Molly Molly, do you give in so easily? Do
you run to the nearest skirts as soon as they are supplied?" He inquired
as he pulled her back up. "I side with no camp...and when it is all
done I will dance on the ashes of all those who stood against me,
regardless of their...camps. You could too, i offered you such a place
before, to stand and make your own destiny, to live forever...without
the yoke of one of their kind. Besides...I believe you stand better than
you kneel."
Molly Toombs
Molly was a creature
built to surprise. That's what came from being a bit more reserved
about one's self when making acquaintances into alliances. Though she
was built soft, well-curved on top and bottom alike, she was still
healthy and able. She got through college on an athletic scholarship,
actually (volleyball). As a result, she was sure-footed and quick to
catch on, so she followed where Kragen led able enough. She had to
glance down to her feet every so often, and drawn in near as they were
she'd need him to catch or correct her balance once or twice, but that
aside she kept up fine.
Fine to the point that even after her
skirt stopped swirling and she found herself suddenly dipped, she didn't
startle or try and correct herself back upright. She wasn't quite
scowling at him, but there was a look of scolding in her eyes from where
she looked back up at him.
"Running to skirts is a strong way of
putting it. I'd call it 'strategic alliances'. You're more... capable
than I am in the middle of a battlefield. I'm a medic that's never even
been on a battlefield. I can't just fight them off."
He
was offering her, for a second time, the chance to revel in power and
dance through the ashes with him. She wasn't sure if she should admire
that or feel sorry for his mania.
"I don't particularly want to
become anything else-- not like that." Not yet, anyways, not if she
could avoid it. "So, I need that protection. Certainly you understand
that our circumstances are different?"
Kragen Kingsmith
He
see's the scolding look in her eyes, so at last he found the line,
found what would make Molly Toombs angry at him. Perhaps he should be
worried that he had found it, perhaps he should pay more attention to
the fact that...being who he was, it wasn't often he made such friendly
connections. But he was who he was, and Kragen didn't change...it was
unlikely he knew how.
"I say it that way because that is what you
will do...eventually. Not of your own will or of any design, but they
will twist you, they will remake you." It is a warning more then a
statement. "I believe in your strength regardless of our differences
sweet Molly. But the price of their protection, is a price you may never
stop paying. " He shakes his head as he leads her around the floor once
more, this time playing nice, and not forcing her to do any complex
moves. His tone has changed, even the look on his face became grave as
he went on.
"You do not have to be anything but yourself, why
drink what is unnecessary." He cast a hand over his own visage. "I didnt
until much later. But I believe, and I know...that to bind yourself to
one of them in anyway...eventually you will change, and by then...you
won't have a say." He grinned then, even chuckled. "So chose Dogwood
Molly! if you must chose a side. We really do have the best cookies, and
we won't make you a slave...but we will make you an offer!"
Molly Toombs
She
had been scolding, certainly, but not scathing. She felt insulted, but
she did not flush with it or become severe for it. When he had righted
her, Molly's hands were back in place-- one in his palm, the other upon
his shoulder-- and she followed along with him on a path and pace that
required a little less focus. This allowed them to dedicate more energy
and attention to the conversation at hand.
Here, in a sea of people and music, he'd pretty much convinced her that no one would hear them.
A
thing to be said for the red-haired medic, she seldom stopped
listening. It was occasionally difficult to say if it was for courtesy
and respect for the person, or for fear that she would miss a tidbit of
information that would come crucial later on. Her brow flexed into an
almost distantly sympathetic sort of frown -- the kind you get when
thinking of someone you know specifically to line up as the example of
the product of the path you're being warned against.
So, when he
made his offer, she chuckled at the addition about the cookies and
asked: "Well, you've mentioned this Dogwood twice. How about you tell
me a little more about it?"
Kragen Kingsmith
It
had seemed as if Kragen might be losing his charm, that his manic
approach to life might well be losing its touch on the fine young trauma
medic. The frowning, the scolding looks all held for longer then ever
before. But in the end he still managed to pull a laugh out of Molly,
though he seems to notice it not, or at least...doesn't let it change
his actions.
So they move along, swinging and dancing, the pair
locked together in arms just as much as they were locked together in
actions. They were a duality, a closed system and it would only end when
one of them made it stop....if they ever did.
Of course Kragen
took the opening Molly gave him, she was, at least momentarily
interested in Dogwood and so he grinned wide, his grey eyes fixed upon
her as he spoke. "Dogwood is a group of four founding members, one of
them being of course...myself." He said briefly inclining his head and
touching his chest.
"We are an independent contractor, bound to no
camp, creed, or country save ourselves and all four primary members
have a very specific role to play. You...my dear Molly would fill a
niche that none of us manage, none of us can even begin to
comprehend...because you heal, you help..you happy harmonist you.
Dogwood could use a chief medical officer like you...a new heart and
soul, new blood as it were." He seemed so sure, so certain.
"And of course...the best thing of all...is that your own boss!"
Molly Toombs
Whatever
heat Kragen might have found himself under with Molly's displeasure, it
had come to pass. She was once again listening, curious to find out
more. Ever curious, Molly Tombs. That's what got her into every single
mess that she's ever been in.
Come, break into this antiques store with me! It will be fun!
Molly, there's something I need you to do-- just take this mysterious envelope that ghosts gave to me and take care of it.
We're chasing ghosts in the observatory! Come along and meet us!
Which
explained why she was here on the dance floor of some bar/dance hall
with a mercenary that killed for the (Not)Dead, dancing at first
enthusiastically enough that the skirt she wore would swirl, but now
easier and thoughtlessly enough that it simply swayed instead. An
eyebrow had raised in something that colored her shades both somewhat
impressed, incredulous, and thoughtful.
When she came up with her answer, Kragen would find himself having to settle for the anti-climactic.
"You
know well enough that I'm not going to run away into the night with
you, Mr. Kingsmith." She smirked a little, and continued. "But, it
sounds like this is a door that isn't closing anytime soon, is it?"
That is to say...
"Give
me time to think on it. I want to see if things shake up nearly as
terribly as you say they will before I start reacting to them."
Kragen Kingsmith
"Ahhh
well, I suppose I should have started with the wine before the dancing
and the proposal." Kragen almost grumbles the words before letting out a
manic little chuckle. "But its out there...and as you said. It's not
going away any time soon...just like I'm not going anywhere for a good,
long, profitable while."
The music swung into an interlude, a
point of gentle background music which most of the dance partners took
as an opportunity to leave the floor, or switch partners as they saw
fit. Kragen for his part let Molly go and bowed to her with that self
same hand flourish before rising and walking towards that railing where
he chose to stand rather then ascend to the now very busy bar.
"You
should know the night really is the very best time to go running away
in, I suggest you try it something...just with the right person...you
really must chose carefully." He warned with a shake of a finger.
"Compatability is key, as is a good sense of humour, and a great deal of
plastik explosives."
He watches Molly for a few long moments as
he grinned cheekily as if trying to decide if she had already been
turned. "You need to be careful out there dear sweet molly, as we both
know so well...you have a hard time repressing the ability to impress."
Molly Toombs
To
the mention of wining her before wooing her, Molly just showed a grin
that says she's far too clever for such antics anyways (but is she
really? evidence shows to the contrary).
To the bow, she lifted
the right side of her skirt by its hem and stretched it out, bent her
knees a little to return the gesture, though there was nothing so
sweeping or full of flourish in her curtsey.
On their way back to
the bar, Molly shook her head and paused him with a hand on his jacket
sleeve. The other hand moved away, gesturing toward the exit. She'd
stopped them in the middle of the flow of foot traffic, then apologized
briefly to someone who had to step around her before moving off to the
side. "I've got to be getting home, Kragen, so no thank you on the
drinks."
As for the rest....
"That's been pointed out," said
simply (oh Molly, so modest). "So I try to watch my step as I go
along. If I get sure-footed enough at this, maybe then I'll be able to
try some night-running. But until then...," She trailed off for the
moment with a smile, and put her hand out to this man that every sense
should be screaming at her to hiss at and run from.
"Thank you for the dance. And the warning. I'll be going home."
Summer Barrett
A
swing dance hall is not a place that you might expect to find Summer
Barrett. Swing clubs are places of joy, where people gather together
and celebrate a happier time when things seemed more innocent (even if,
really, they weren't any more innocent than now). Joy, happiness,
innocence...none of these things would describe the woman by any remote
stretch of the imagination and as such, she may seem like quite the
anomaly.
In truth however, there's something about the place that
appeals to her in a psychological way. It's not evocation of mood;
such an element is beyond this woman. And she certainly stands out
among the people here, in her white dress shirt and black jacket and
skirt. Heels that are sensible yet fashionable. But most signficantly,
the entirely blank expression on her face. When music is in the air
and people twirl and spin, it is hard not to have an emotional
reaction. This woman, who walks in with a bluetooth headset in one
ear...she accomplishes that rare feat.
She pauses as she walks in,
murmuring into the headset for silence from the person on the other end
so that she can pass her impassive gaze over the crowd. She's quick
about it, but every individual person within purview of her sight is
located, taken in, and moved on to another. Some few take her
attention...Kragen and Molly, a mismatched pair, are among them. There
is a moment of examination of the both of them and then, with her
observations imprinted into her mind she moves on. A couple of people
later, she's done with her examination of the crowd and begins to walk
to a spot where she can stand and keep an eye on the whole of the crowd.
Kragen Kingsmith
As
he so often did, Kragen had made his gamble, taken the gambit he had
hoped, or at least deludedly believed would see the result he wanted.
But the rest of that merry night would have to be postponed, the rest of
their intrigue and talk would have to wait. Because Molly stopped them,
and extended her hand as she said she would be leaving.
Kragen
looked at that hand briefly and shook his head with a manic chuckle
before taking it and shaking. "Ahh dear sweet Molly, you never ever fail
to impress. I do hope you consider, and I do hope you take care...it is
so very easy to mistake care for recklessness."
"Do kiss
Florence good night, and apologize for my lack of farewell, but i feel a
drink coming on, and I am certainly not the one to say no." At that
they parted ways, the older man moving towards the bar as he kept those
grey eyes on Molly as she left the dance hall. He would do so till she
was out of sight, and only then would he straighten his back and step to
the bar, looking the barkeep dead in the eye and ordering a whiskey
before he turned and surveyed the crowd.
Of course Summer stood
out...how could she not...and when that drink was poured and downed...he
started towards her with that swagger and shimmy, that red silk suit
that was less then perfectly tailored marking him easily amidst the
crowd...
Here i come...ready or not.
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