Things What Suck

[Molly Quincannon] Molly has not forgotten what meatspace looks like the last few days, at least. She's been out and about for one reason or another quite frequently, seldom leaving without some explanation to Ellie about where she's going (whenever Ellie's in herself, of course). Yesterday, it had been "...Capital-C 'Conversation' with Chuck, awesomely alliterative but in all other ways probably suck". That, of course, had been followed by a bruised Molly returning with glasses mended with surgical tape and a rather beat-up Beetle. Today, it had been, "Nathan's teaching me to shoot things."

It's easy to hear that Molly's back. The engine can be heard a block and a half away, since the muffler's more or less shot, and that's not taking into account the sound the vehicle bay doors in Molly's workshop/garage/bedroom make when they open and close. A short while after that, Molly enters the living area with her right wrist held up to her chest as if it hurts. "Heya. How's the study grind?"

[Ellie James] Ellie's grateful to hear the sound of that engine. Because she's been doing her best to keep an ear on her roommate's comings and goings. And because last night was probably more traumatic for Ellie than it was for Molly, because Molly knew what had happened, and Ellie had. No. Clue. Just bruises and a dented up car, and math is in no way as important as her roommate's health.

"I hate math. That's all there is to it." She pushed the book away and stood up, taking in the sight of Molly's arm pressed to her chest. "What did you do now?" Plaintive confusion.

[Molly Quincannon] "Well, I can help with the math if you want, but first, Dew and frozen peas. Not all for the consumption. And it's just a strain," she tells Ellie on the way to the kitchen. "Nathan encouraged me to show off and try a shot one-handed. I wasn't used to the kick and there was owie. It happens. I'll be better soon. Remind me to go get new glasses, by the way. Probably need my prescription checked anyhow. So ... take a break; want a soda while I'm here? I thought takeout of some kind tonight because no way am I cooking."

[Ellie James] Ellie trailed Molly into the kitchen, and did the soda fishing herself while Molly was busy fetching peas from the freezer. "Takeout sounds good. So does a break." She opened Molly's soda, and then chugged half of her own. "Why was he trying to teach you to shoot one-handed; did he figure that you shouldn't have to know how to shoot with two hands first?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly manages to swig from her own soda by the simple expedient of setting the peas down on the counter and resting her wrist on them to free up her good left hand. "He wasn't really trying to teach me to shoot that way, though it'd make sense, I guess - you don't always have the time to get into a two-handed shooting stance. I think he wanted to see if my wrists could take it. Which ... I guess not so much. Still, I managed the rest of the lesson and he even did a little nifty trick with Matter that let the whole lesson end with a serious bang. Which I needed. Venting is good, and venting with explosions is even better."

[Ellie James] Ellie finally nodded slowly. "So maybe a smaller gun?" She went digging around in one of the drawers for a towel, and then got closer to Molly's side. "Let me tie this around your wrist to hold the peas in place, okay? Unless you'd rather I carried your soda back to the den for you." Mother-hen mode in full swing. "Tell me about this explosion? Please? And tell me what you want to eat."

[Molly Quincannon] "There was only one smaller gun, and I didn't want to use it until I get a chance to ask the guy who built it more about it. I make it a policy never to use Etherite-built weapons without seeing the specs-- Oh, thanks." She lets Ellie tie the peas onto her wrist, looking a bit sheepish, as she carries on. "Anyway, the explosion was really just Nathan transmuting metal into low-yield explosives before I shot said metal. Ker-boom. His apology for loading the shotgun with blanks. Long story. Anyway, I told him about yesterday and he figured that blowing something all to hell would cheer me up. As to what I want to eat ... eh, not fussy. You pick. Oh, and I may ask you to vacate for dinner-and-a-movie sometime this week. Nathan's going to come over and cook me dinner."

Ooooh, somebody's blushing...

[Ellie James] Ellie blinked slowly, and then lifted an eyebrow. "What happened to human-made guns? I know those get small, and I'll bet you could alter the ammo, instead of the gun." She grinned, fishing out the phone book and opening it to a random page in the restaurant section. "Now that's my idea of a good explosion."

She held up the phone book, finger on a Thai order place. "Look good?" And she smirked. "I suppose I can take myself out to see a movie and leave you all to yourself."

[Molly Quincannon] "Hey, Atlas is human! More or less!" It's laughingly spoken, though. "And the Glock was pretty small, but then you're getting into .22s, and Nathan says the rounds from those bounce off people."

She leans over Ellie's shoulder to get a look at the place Ellie's pointed out, but before she gives the go-ahead, she swats Ellie lightly on the shoulder and says, "Oh, stop it, you, or I'll start turning my nose up at food just to spite you. And I won't tell you how the capital-C Conversation went." Then she sighs and adds, "But yeah, that looks fine. Like I said, not picky."

[Ellie James] "Huh. Not that I know guns anyway. And more or less, huh? Do I want to know?"

She squeaked and laughed when Molly swatted her shoulder, and then put on her best pout. "Awww... you wouldn't do that to me, would you? I don't know Nathan well enough to find him and ask, and I doubt he'd tell me anyway." She gave Molly puppy-dog eyes. "Please? Pretty please with... errr... Kahluah on top?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Atlas," Molly explains, "is ... eccentric. He's got a speech pattern that makes him sound a bit like Data-from-Next-Gen-With-Fifty-Cent-Word-Mode-Engaged, but he's the sweetest guy, really. Just ... not exactly normal. And that's by my standards."

The rest ... Molly settles down on her side of the poofy red loveseat and sighs. "I guess I wouldn't do that to you, no. Long story short: Chuck started the capital-C Conversation by being pissed at me for telling Ashley - aka administrative Dean of the Chantry of which he is a full member - about his high spot on the Technocracy watch-list. It went from there to a bunch of fairly pathetic justifications of his actions - the hiding of his Wanted status from every-damn-body, the snooping he did on his ex-girlfriend's past... Just about everything, really. Then told me I was too busy, and I quote, 'lamenting the issues with our relationship that he had no damn clue about' to care about facts. It's not as if he asked, and if he couldn't see that I was unhappy, he had to be blind. Anyway, so I told him, and he went back on the self-justification trip where he couldn't blame shit on me. Then implied that I wouldn't care if he dumped me because I had a 'back-up plan' or something - as if any of my relationships are that quick or cheap!"

She sighs, sips her drink, then finishes with, "So I told him to call me to talk about what comes next when and if he ever gets his head out of his ass, got in my car, hit some black ice and ended up in someone's outdoor - and decorated - Christmas tree."

[Ellie James] The mental image Molly's words calls up earns a soft snicker from Ellie, but she sobered as Molly went into a brief synopsis of her Conversation with Chuck.

"So.... basically he blamed you for everything that's gone wrong between the two of you. And he claimed to justify everything he did? Ugh, honey, I'm glad it is over between the two of you. He's a douche." She sipped at her soda, and then scowled again. "No wonder the car sounds like hell. You're going to be okay though, right? At least as far as physical injuries go?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Oh, sure," Molly says, waving off the physical injuries. "I mean, come on. Think about what I've had to deal with, wound-wise, the last six months or so. I had second-degree burns on both legs from toes to just around mid-thigh at one point. Another second-degree burn here." She touches her right bicep with her left hand. "That one I've still got the scars for. I've taken Paradox beatings so hard I had nosebleeds, and the less said about the getting-shot, and what came after, the better. So comparatively, I'm doing pretty damn awesome. I mean, there are a few bruises on the face, and one the shape of my seatbelt--" She traces the pattern of them over her shirt. "--and my glasses are never going to be the same again, but seriously? No problem. Or so say the ER doctors who checked me over for whiplash. My poor baby got hurt worse than I did. I'm going to be days picking tinsel out of the front bumper, too."

[Ellie James] Ellie made a face at the reminder of all the injuries Molly has taken recently. And, admittedly, a car wreck was less severe than getting shot and tortured.

"At least you went to the ER and could tell the truth about how you got injured. Kind of hard to explain torture injuries to normal doctors." She sighed. "You want your usual? And do you want help un-decorating the car? With a bum hand it'll take ten times longer doing it alone."

[Molly Quincannon] That gets a slightly bitter chuckle. "Well, it would have been hard, if I had gone to a normal doctor. I didn't go to a hospital after that; not like any of it was really physical anyway. They got really ... creative with Life and Forces magic. Instead, I got a motel room and the caringest woman you've ever met spending hours picking out the shit they did to me as best she could and resetting my Pattern. But yeah, if I'd had to get creative like I did with the leg burns, that'd have been bad. I mean, I couldn't tell them that I set fire to man-eating garbage that was trying to nom my legs, right?"

Another sip of soda, and then, "Yes to my usual, no thanks to the un-decorating. I think I'm going to leave it a couple of days; use public transport if I have to go anywhere. If I start on the un-decorating, I'm going to think of my poor damaged muffler and want to do something about it, and then I'll just be gloomy. I've got enough to be gloomy about. I mean ... what is it with guys?"

[Ellie James] Ellie sighed, and then leaned over to grab the phone and dial the restaurant. She placed the order quickly, and then hung the phone up. "20 minutes." She put the phone away, and then dropped into her chosen beanbag. "At least we're in a city that has decent public transportation." She shrugged, and sprawled for a moment. "Can I at least re-arrange some of the tinsel to look more, I don't know, even? Right now it's kind of distracting."

[Molly Quincannon] Ellie gets a look at that. "Ellie ... the car's in my bedroom. How on earth is it going to be distracting when it's hidden behind walls, when you manage Hardison and, to a lesser extent, Neal so well?" She grins a little and asks, "The math getting you down that much?"

[Ellie James] Ellie nodded sadly. "It is. It really is. I'd rather make you car look more ornate if it means I can avoid my math studies a little longer. I'm good up to the algebra, but this trig stuff is driving me crazy. I'm a plant witch, not an engineer!"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly's trying to look sympathetic, she really is. However, Molly's the sort of person who can come up with the answer to a complex math problem in the space of seconds without resorting to pencil-and-paper or calculator. So while she winces, she actually looks more perplexed than anything else. "I'm sure we can find you some more worthwhile distraction from the math than messing with the tinsel in my front bumper. Besides, there's broken glass from the tree lights in there, so it needs care when messing with it. Or un-messing it, I don't even know. Anyway, like I said, I'm happy to help where I can. Math was one of my strong points at school. Anyway, even plant witches need math. Yes, even trig. If nothing else, it's a good way to get you used to thinking in a different way." Then she frowns. "Not that there's anything wrong with how you think; just that mostly, this whole Awakened thing seems to involve getting the headmeat around funked-up concepts. I guess Trig applies."

[Ellie James] "Yeah, I'd like to avoid the broken glass." She sighed, and poked irritably at her math study book. "I know I need, at least abstractly. But if you'd help me I'd appreciate it a lot. Maybe I'm just looking at it the wrong way." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I can... umm... oh! I can teach you some wraps I learned to make swelling and pain go down without needing painkillers. Would that work?"

[Molly Quincannon] That gets another chuckle. "It doesn't have to be quid pro quo all the time, y'know. But if you would teach me that kind of thing, I'd be much obliged. I mean, this time of year is a bitch for my wrists anyway. All the cold and all that. So, hey, speaking of, have you got a Yule wish list? And I thought we could decorate the place up nice and roast a duck and watch cheesy Christmas movies and stuff on the 25th. You know, sort of a quasi-family thing with cookies and big dinner and everything that makes for Rockwell paintings. That work for you, or would you prefer something else?"

[Ellie James] "Well, in this case, I really kind of think it's worth it. I can help you hurt less, and you can help my brain hurt less." She smiled, and then looked thoughtful. "Not really, no. I mean, about the wish list. You're heard something about how I grew up." She tugged at her pony tail thoughtfully. "Isn't Yule on the 21st, though? But watching cheesy movies sounds like fun. And I've never tried duck before, is it good?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Oh, I bundle the whole thing under 'Yule'," is Molly's explanation. "I mean, I know that Yule's technically the 21st, but most of the traditions that people follow for Christmas - except for the church bits, obviously - are actually Yule and Saturnalia holdovers anyway, and given as how I've got friends that celebrate Hanukkah and friends who celebrate Christmas and other friends who just pull the covers over their heads and hope the whole thing will just go away? I just bundle it all under 'Winter Solstice Festival Celebrating the Rebirth of the Year'. Hence, Yule for me lasts from the start of Hanukkah to, like, the twelfth day of Christmas. And duck's pretty good, though I've never tried roasting it before - just had it in Chinese food. I picked duck because, dude, we are not fitting a turkey in that oven in there."

Then she casts an eye towards Ellie, eyebrow raised. "Yes, I've heard something about how you grew up. But that doesn't mean, necessarily, that you don't necessarily want things. So give me a ballpark. Pretty things? Music-making things? I mean, I have one idea but it's not something you wrap, and there've got to be little things under the tree. And stocking stuffers! Except I don't have a fireplace mantle to hang up stockings. Think Santa would mind if I hung the stockings from the desk?" She pats the customer service desk on which her computers hum in a companionable way.

[Ellie James] "Ooooh..." Ellie smiled. "That does make a little sense." She chuckled. "Too bad there's no snow to add to the mix, it's always muddy by the time the holidays roll around. But the duck sounds nifty. And you're right about that turkey. Though I suppose we could try to deep-fry one..."

"Ah, well... hell, Molly, I don't know. Music is cool, books, umm... I don't do make-up, so that's out. What about you? Maybe I'll see interesting things while I'm getting you a gift or three. I'm used to wandering past stores, not wandering through them." She grinned a little, though. "Somehow, I don't think he'll mind the lack of mantel. After all, we're mages - we can't do everything the way everyone else does."

[Molly Quincannon] "Oh, great Google, I dunno." Molly ruffles her hair with her good hand, then removes the bag of frozen peas. (One does need a break from the cold after awhile, after all.) "Honestly? My life changes so damn much from day to day that I don't know what little bits I want half the time. All my music comes from downloads, movies likewise ... um, mostly, it's geeky T-shirts, stompy boots ... earrings... Um, if it's geeky, I'm on it like white on rice, basically. I've been kind of getting into tea lately, but coffee's always a good thing. Um ... cookbooks? Honestly, you don't have to get me anything, though. I mean, make me a card and I'm happy."

Then she winces. "No deep-fried turkey. My dad tried that once. I just ... no."

[Ellie James] Ellie snorted. "See, now you know how I feel. I'm just a little less prepared to offer suggestions. But I bet I could find something on that site 'ThinkGeek' that I stumbled across. There's a ton of really nifty stuff there." She scooped up the bag of peas and went to put them back in the freezer to let them refreeze. Once she was back, she tilted her head. "So no-go in the deep-fried turkey. Got it. Take it that it was a less-than-awesome explosion?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly waves away the 'less-than-awesome explosion'. "Nah; just I want to enjoy my holiday, and I don't really want the Ghost of Christmases Past haunting me while I'm trying to enjoy my Now. I mean, every year it was frilly dresses, makeup, boy band CDs ... and then arguments about the Christmas lists I wrote up before the day and let's not forget the eternal game of 'Why Can't You Be More Like Chrissy Sorensen Down The Block?' Never mind that Chrissy Sorensen dropped out of high school her junior year in favour of a shotgun wedding to Brad Michaels and the birth of a bouncing baby boy."

The rest gets a sheepish grin. "Yeah, okay, point taken about the presents. But at least I offer suggestions. And it's not like I've got your browser history to go on so much."

[Ellie James] "Ooooh. Oh yeah. I can totally see that. It'd kind of be like having... you know what, never mind. I get it."

She smiled. "I gave suggestions. Kind of. It just took some prompting. And you could check my browser history if you really wanted to, though you wouldn't see much. Too busy studying and doing practice tests." She glanced over at the cage of the resident sqeakers. "Do we get the fuzzies presents too?"

[Molly Quincannon] "I think Hardison would spaz for weeks if we left them out," is Molly's reply to that, giving the 'resident squeakers' (Hardison is rolling around with a big jingly ball and chittering to beat the band, whereas Neal is curled up in his hammock, watching his 'little brother' with a superior sort of look) a fond glance. "But that's easily enough done; I know good pet shops."

Then the doorbell goes, and she grins. "Aah, food. So you go get some plates, I'll pick up the food and then, after we've eaten, I'll walk you through the basics of trig. That work?"

And, assuming it does, so it goes. If Ellie has to hate math, at least she's got someone who's very, very good at it on semi-permanent retainer.