You've Got To Trust Someone

[Lucy and Max Soverino] This isn't the slums. It's a residential area full of small apartment buildings and warehouses renovated into lofts and studio flats. Not all that far from Greektown, and somewhat reminiscent of the kinds of residential streets located close to a place like Greenwich Village in New York before it became the romping grounds of the upper middle class trendsetters. This neighbourhood is more like its original claim to fame: A modern bohemian feel to it. Laid back, lots of grassroots shops, mom n' pop kinds of places like the Salon Lucy works at that advertises the use of only all natural products and 'If you can't eat it then we won't use it' type slogans.

The quad-apartment building Lucy lives in with her son was once a large townhouse, now partitioned into a basement living space and then one for each of the 3 main floors. Lucy and her son live on the second floor and as Molly makes her way there she can see she's in luck: She spots Lucy and the boy - you really can't miss the hair - as they are entering the building, Max lugging his backpack, home from a school day and an early works shift.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly was kind of hoping not to have to deal too much with the mother, but let's face it, the best-laid plans of mice and men ... occasionally end up with you getting the back-end of a stockless rifle to the skull. Or ... wait. Anyway, point is that to avoid Protective Mother Instincts kicking in (no, Molly doesn't know this one from personal experience, but she's met mothers, and people who would make decent mothers, and it sounds like the kind of thing they'd do), Molly has used a little 'Trust Me' kind of sparkle on herself today. No, she is not a paedophile. Don't Panic, Ladies and Pre-Pubescent Gentlemen; We Are Not From The Internet. (Because people think the internet is seedy. Which is a sin and a shame. Damn demonising culture. Focus, Molly.)

Long story short, Molly's dressed smart-casual and she waits about ten minutes before she heads for the door. Why yes, her resonance is masked. Why yes, she is Watching the Weaving. Why no, she did not accept the gun with Imbued bullets that Nathan tried to press on her on Saturday night. Last thing she needs is a sharp-eyed mother spotting a shoulder-holster. No amount of 'Trust Me' is going to get her through that kind of clusterfuck. Then, after sufficient time frame given, she rings the doorbell to the Soverino residence and waits.

[Lucy and Max Soverino] These days Lucy isn't really letting Max out of her sight. Even the time spent with him at school and her at work is hard on her, anxiety inducing. People have noticed at work, asking if she's alright... and of course she tries to put on her best 'Oh, yeah, it's all cool' face and move along, move along but in truth she's getting that itch to run again...

...but that is neither here or there.

Each apartment has its own entrance: When Lucy's door opens at Molly's ring Molly can hear the sounds of a T at middling-volume, playing cartoons. Lucy herself is, well, not really much older than Molly. She had her son young - very young - and she could really be any other late-20-something out and about, working hard, playing hard... the only person she really plays hard with is Max, though. She's devoted and, yes, protective because their life together started out... rough. Still the look of her says she'd be an intelligent, fun kind of woman where it not for the slight signs of stress, the circles under her eyes that her expertly applied makeup mostly masks but not entirely...

...she looks Molly over carefully. Not hostile, no, but a certain hesitance she might not have showed a little over a week ago. "Yeah? Can I help you?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Hi there," says Molly, going for entirely non-threatening and kind of laid-back ... but not so laid-back that she couldn't be Someone In Authority somewhere. "My name's Mary, and I'm from--" she names Max's school. Molly does her homework. "I didn't manage to catch him after school today, and I was hoping to ask him about a sort of time-capsule project a few of the middle grades were thinking of starting." Then, taking in the concern and stress that the mother's trying to hide (and almost managing, to her credit), she adds, "...And I admit I was sort of hoping to ask you both if everything was alright." Not 'ask him'; that could lead to inferences of child abuse, and Molly doesn't want that. No, she's going for sympathetic, 'is there a problem that Someone In Authority and so very trustworthy might at least be able to help with' sort of mood. Being of an age with the parent in question might also help, if one goes for the sheepish, 'I know it's intrusive but really, I care and want to help' smile. "I mean, if it's not a good time, maybe we could arrange something later, but if it's convenient ... could I please come in?"

[Lucy and Max Soverino] Molly can watch as variations of reaction slip over the woman's features on the other side of the screen door: Hesitance becomes simply worry [Is Max in trouble at school??] and then attentiveness. And that Trust Me aura around Molly does have its effect: Because Lucy isn't going immediately tot he defensive and standoffish and I'm-about-to-shut-this-door-in-your-face...
...because mention of this unknown woman from the school coming to talk about Max - to snoop - is setting off old alarms.
Lucy swallows... "Do... do you have ID, Mary? Sorry but... these days..." a lame finish and she seems slightly chagrined for asking but there is just enough of a stubbourn set to show she won't back down. Not where their safety and privacy may be concerned.

[Molly Quincannon] This? This is when Doctor Who can come in handy. "Oh, of course; should have shown that right off. I mean, unless I've been a total ditz and left it at the school..." This as she rummages through her laptop bag for a bit of kit she keeps for just such emergencies. There's a certain amount of muttering to herself, subvocalising that might be an attempt to keep impolite comments about how her bag gets worse every day (but is more her talking to ForceFeed under her breath) and rummaging (fluttering of the fingers in what those familiar with sign language would recognise as words under cover of her laptop bag) and she really is a typical late-20s individual hunting through her bag, protractedly, while looking for...
...the Psychic Paper - a nifty bit of Forces/Mind that should let the light reflecting off it bend to reveal, if briefly, what this woman expects to see...
...a school ID badge in a neat laminated flip-cover.

[[Psychic Paper! Coincidental so diff 5, -1 focus, -1 practiced so diff 3. WP because we would like to get this right, please...]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 4 (Success x 3 at target 3) [WP]

[Lucy and Max Soverino] She eyes the badge but thankfully she's either trusting enough - or too tired - to ask to hold it and see it up close. Right now it is her hope of all hopes that Molly - Mary - is who she says she is...
...the ID conveniently [coincidentially?] assuages some of her fears. Some of them at least.
"Okay, yeah... thanks, Mary."
And then she's opening the screen door outward and beckoning Molly in and up the steps to the actual apartment space.

"Sorry to be like that but..." Normally she would not say this but Molly just seems to trustworthy, "My Ex husband.. Max's dad... it's been a while, but every now and again he tracks us down and gets real sneaky about doing it so... yeah."

Max is in the living space: He's sitting cross legged on the floor, back up against the sofa, with a plate of carrot sticks, ranch dip and pretzels on his lap while he watches Avatar re-runs on Nick. He looks over curiously, offering up that nice grin - just a little shy, still so very boyish - with that bright stock of carrot red hair and freckles aplenty.
"Max," says Lucy, "Honey, can you turn off the TV. This is Mary.. she's from your school and she wants to talk to you about a project and... to see how we're doing."

At that Max looks worried and is looking to his mother for guidance with all the trust of a boy his age, still a good couple of years from real puberty. Who still utters the name of God when he speaks 'mom'. It is clear to see that they are very close. "Oh? Umm... hi, Mary.. I... I'm not in trouble, am I? Mom?"
He's obviously going to take his cues from Lucy.. and Lucy seems to be visible hemming and hawing over just what to tell Molly regarding how they are doing and wanting to help.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly smiles at Max; she smiles, in fact, at the family unit. Wistful, maybe. "No, you're not in trouble, Max. I just wanted to have a bit of a chat about a time capsule sort of thing that came up with the head honchesa over at school." (Yes, she knows the principal at Max's school is a woman. She has Done Her Homework.) "It's only in the really early planning stages, but we were thinking about one of the pieces to put in it being a digital video clip introducing the whole thing and explaining the elements we'd put in. Less delicate and harder to mangle than paper copies, you know? Talk came up that you might be a good narrator. Have you done anything like that before? Acting or ... any sort of narrative work on video?" She's stressing the narrative part, because no way in hell does she want to even look remotely like she's talking child porn, but she's watching him carefully when she asks about whether he's been on video before.

The ex-husband? She'll ask about that bastard later, if she gets that far. No one should have to live in fear of some guy who Done Her Wrong, particularly not with a kid in the mix. She is a black-hat in her other life, after all.

[Lucy and Max Soverino] Molly can see it plain as day: The way Max's eyes kinda widen and then dart to his mom and then to 'Mary' and then down to the floor and he mumbles, "Yeah... maybe?"
Oh yes. Talk of video narratives definitely hits home. It does so with Lucy too. Now, if it wasn't for Molly's smart use of the Mind effect to replace her usual Resonance with that air of trustworthiness, Lucy's reaction might be swift and suspicious and shutting-down all communications. She's had to defend herself and her son too much to take risks easily or lightly.
But Molly was smart indeed and so instead Lucy instead looks a little pale.. looks to her son and you can almost see the pulse of her heart in her eyes, thrumming steadily for that little boy.
She releases a long breath...

"You asked if we were doing alright. We.. kinda haven't been. Max... Max had something strange happen the weekend just before Valentines and... look, he's been much better since, except... It was just a fluke I think but it scared him... it scared us both. We..."
Max - and this is sweetness itself - goes to stand next to his mother. Take her hand. Hold it.
A unified front.
A partnership.
Lucy visibly squeezes his hand, pats it. "It's okay, kiddo... Mary is gonna help."
Then, to Molly/Mary, "Would you like some coffee, Mary?"

Jackpot!

[Molly Quincannon] "Darn tooting, Mary is going to help," she says, still smiling - and there's determination in it, oh yes. "And I would love some coffee, thank you."

It's only when that's done, when Lucy is back in the room and is there to support her son, that she asks, "If you don't mind my asking, what was the fluke, exactly? I mean ... walk me through it. I might be able to at least offer some insight." How, she doesn't quite know yet, but she'll think of something. She always does.

[Lucy and Max Soverino] Actually, Lucy beckons Mary to follow her and Max into the kitchen. She's not going to leave Max alone, even if she is being awfully trusting of this woman [you've got to trust someone, Loose, and, well, she's got to have the right connections to help Max cope...]. The kitchen is small like most city apartments, but it has enough room for raised table against one counter with fashionable-looking bar-height chairs for two. Probably where Lucy and Max take most of their meals together though there's a small attached dining space with a four-seater table for when there is company.

Lucy is brewing up the coffee and it smells like a good blend. At Molly's question and gentle urging Mother and son once more exchange looks. Lucy starts to speak then things better of it and, instead, "Go ahead, honey.."

Max takes it up, hesitant and shy at first, brow and nose wrinkling with the effort to recall what seems.. foggy. "I was waiting for mom to finish packing up the stuff at the park after we had a picnic because it wasn't so cold as it has been," Yeah, for Chicago that means it wasn't below freezing. "Normally I'd help her!" he insists, "But there was this nice couple with a puppy and mom said I could say hi, so long as I stayed where she could see. So, anyway.. I was watching the puppy leave and kinda wishing I could have one," a sidelong look to Lucy - whose lips flex with a touch of a smile that is motherly affection and nice-try-buddy both. "Anyway, I saw this girl walk by and she was crying. She looked real sad and... I remember when mom would cry sometimes like that,"
Here Lucy looks pained, regretful - no parent wants to think they've caused their child stress. The boy, with a niceness beyond his years [or maybe because of the lack of them] offers up a sad smile. "She'd try to hide it but I knew... anyway, I watched and wondered by she was so sad.
Then.. this lady came up to me. And... it gets real fuzzy there, Miss Mary.. like... like, once? I broke my arm falling out of a tree, right? And they gave me some medicine that made me feel real drowsy-woozy like. It kinda felt maybe like that? But... not bad. Kinda like. Well, like when you want to understand something and make it better... that.. feeling."
He's young - it's hard for him to find the right words.
"And this lady.. she had really pretty eyes. Warm like... and Mom, what's that rock in that necklace grandma got you?"
"Amber, honey."
"Yeah, like amber or maple syrup!" He's proud of himself for describing it so well then.. falters again. "But I don't remember much more. Mama came by then and asked if I was alright and I said I was tired and she said I looked.. flushed... so we went home."

Lucy takes it up from here, drawing a steadying breath and pouring coffee. "He was feverish. All of a sudden. I mean, that happens with kids sometimes but usually babies and toddlers and stuff. And he was so tired, so we came home and I made him soem soup and he went to bed and then... " steady.. steady... "He woke up screaming and started saying something over and over.. like.. like a fit. He says he doesn't even remember that part... but..."

Here she moves to a drawer and draws out a Transformers notepad on which are scrawled the words from the video Molly saw. "This is what he was saying. It went on for about 10 minutes then he just went back to sleep. But I wrote it down and when he woke up.. he didn't remember the fit, but he remembered the words and he kept telling me it was important and we needed to tell someone, warn someone, help the girl... so... we took a video of him saying it and I sent it to this reporter I've met before but.. didn't say who it was from. But.. see? It sounded like.. like someone might kill themselves or get hurt and it would.. look like a suicide.."
Obviously she hates saying all that in front of Max, so she skips a ahead. "Then... we heard on the news about something on Valentines day and... it seemed really eerie. I made sure I took the video down from a photobucket account I made and ... we were just going to try to forget but Max.. has nightmares sometimes about it. No more fits or anything but... Nightmares."

[Molly Quincannon] [[Perc + Awareness...]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 6 (Failure at target 7)

[Molly Quincannon] [[Perc + Awareness. My dice pool in each is higher than 2...]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Lucy and Max Soverino] Molly does get a little.. itch.. around the boy now that she thinks of it and has been around him long enough. But it's not an active Resonance or the kind of thing you feel when someone is working the Mojo.. closer to how someone or something feels when they've been exposed to some heavy duty magic or something.
to Molly Quincannon

[Molly Quincannon] Molly reads the words - she doesn't have to, but she's not going to admit she saw that video; there doesn't seem to be much point right now - then nudges the notebook back towards Lucy. "Well ... yes. Yes, I can definitely get how that'd be troubling. I can probably at least help with the nightmares for a bit at least - kind of a new-agey visualisation thing, but I've found that it works. If you want me to try, anyway. As to the rest ... well, it sounds like that woman played a very mean joke on you, Max. I couldn't say exactly, but the woozy thing ... could be hypnosis, I dunno. There's a lot of stuff that I don't think anyone understands, but all there is to say is that there are some really strange people in the world, and sometimes they're not nice to ... well, anybody. Sometimes they are, and you've got to look pretty hard to tell the difference, but you're a sharp kid, by all accounts; be watchful, but don't let it shut you off to new things and new people. Sometimes they turn out to be truly awesome - in the good way." Okay, maybe that's directed a little at Lucy too, but it's reassurance; Constant Vigilance with an open heart is still possible. She knows it. Hell, she's starting to live it. As to the rest ... it's as good a story as any. There are stage hypnotists everywhere.

Then she asks, "Do you remember anything more about what she looked like? I think maybe there ought to be a ... tactful sort of bulletin put around to the rest of the staff, to watch out for her. Nothing specific or naming you or anything, but you've got to admit, having this happen to anyone else would be pretty awful."

[Lucy and Max Soverino] Lucy looks a little surprised by what Molly says: It wasn't really what she was expecting. But neither does she seemed to scoff at it or shy away from the ideas. After all: Many of the girls she works with and her clientele believe in holistic medicines and 'new agey' type remedies. Maybe Lucy herself dabbles in basic mediation, yoga, that sort of thing.. she seems a health conscious sort. Max takes it in stride - as much as a kid his age can be expected to at least - though the idea of hypnosis makes him give a funny look... "Like... when you say 'chicken' I'll start clucking and stuff?"
Lucy makes a small sound of surprised humour but shakes her head, "No, honey, that's for magic shows and stuff."
"Oh.. 'kay.. I don't wanna cluck like a chicken at school or something..."
Lucy reaches out to ruffle his hair affectionately, reassuringly, then looks back to Molly, "I was... thinking of maybe getting him into some therapy, maybe. I've heard of some good people around here but... well, I don't want them to get the wrong idea or... whatever." Protective again. "The nightmares are tapering off, though... he didn't have any the last two nights."
"I feel much better, mom, promise.." Assures Max who, well, really doesn't want to cluck like a chicken... and then shakes his head, regretfully. "Just her eyes and.. I think maybe she had dark clothes on? Or maybe her skin was black, I dunno, it.. it was really fuzzy... I'm sorry..."

[Molly Quincannon] "No, no, that's okay; you're doing really well, all things considered." Another question occurs and she asks, "Whereabouts at the park were you for your picnic? I ... spend time around there sometimes." Maybe she's worried about running into this woman. Maybe she hopes she can give a description to someone who could do something about her, if she happened to run into her. Who knows?

To the mention of the nightmares tapering off, she smiles. "I'd give it another few weeks before worrying too much about therapists. You know how it goes with kids - one kid gets wind of it and ... well." She stops there, like someone who doesn't want to speak ill of students given that she sort of works on their behalf, but the implication is there: give bullies a reason, and they'll nail some poor kid's ass to a wall. "Let's just say it's the sort of thing that makes me wish my job was less about administration, y'know?" Which should nicely cover why Max is unlikely to see 'Miss Mary' at school anytime soon. No one notices the admin staff unless their kid's in trouble, and a good kid like Max would never see the inside of most of the admin offices.

Then, bypassing the whole 'visualisation' shtick (on her part, at least - not breaking out the hoodoo), she says, "It might help if you think of the puppy, before you go to sleep. Or you could think about a puppy of my acquaintance. Harlequin Great Dane puppy. Finest dog in the world, I'm telling you. Loveable and protective and all white with a few black spots and..." She lowers her voice, as if imparting a secret or saying a forbidden word. "...He does a sort of booty-dance of joy when he wags his tail hard enough. His whole back end shakes like a weeble-wobble."

[Lucy and Max Soverino] Lucy and Max both start to answer about the park, then kind of take it in turns. Which is to say that Max describes the location with a lot of 'it's near, like, this fountain but it's not on for the winter because the pipe would burst' type descriptions... and Lucy provides the actual location of the park and the street that borders where they were closest, to supplement the description.

Lucy nods with Molly's words regarding a therapist -- she concurs. Obviously what she wanted was someone elses reassurances - a school worker no less - that she wasn't doing her son an injustice by not seeking therapy for him.
Being a parent is a tough job. Being a single parent all the more so, especially in those moments where another adults caring two-cents can be so helpful and assuring.

Molly succeeds in getting Max to grin and then titter-giggle, his soft brown eyes brightening up at the description of Atticus and once more he's darting hopeful looks at his mom who is smiling lopsided, but kind of charmed by Molly's description herself. "Well, kiddo... we can't get a Great Dane that's for sure. They're frickin' huge, but, well...I guess you're getting old enough for a puppy... something small! And it better not eat my makeup or mom will look like hell all the time." Teasing... and Max starts to pipe up about how 'naw, mom, you always look pretty!'.

But this much is clear: Both mother and son seem as though some burden has been lifted - or at least eased up - from them in the telling of the tale and the assurances from Molly/Mary. If nothing else, that much is a success for Molly.
"Thanks, Mary," this from Lucy. "I'm.... thanks for stopping buy. I really appreciate it. Is... is there anything else we can help with?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Honestly, you've done more than enough. You're raising a good kid there, and that's - long-run, anyway - the best thing in the world." She offers Lucy a hand as she stands up. "Plus you offered me coffee. Anyone who does that has done me a great service indeed. And I'll leave you guys to your afternoon and evening. Thanks for agreeing to speak to me, and sorry for barging in on your day. I'm just glad I could help."

Then she takes her leave, with one parting shot - a quick flip online with her iPhone ... and the number of a local animal shelter. Any puppy looking for a loving home couldn't do better than this place.