[Molly Quincannon] One thing that will be said about Molly: if she cares about you, she will be sure to find some way to touch base with you. No matter how much you're not answering your phone, answering your door, or otherwise ignoring the outside world, she will let you know that she is thinking of you.
So, if the first three times Nathan got text messages when he was sure he switched his cellphone off didn't get any kind of significant response, the paper airplane that hit him in the head the one time he opened one of the windows in his warehouse home to get some fresh air probably did. On that bit of paper? A laser-printed message:
Nathan;
Come out and play? C'mon; you need some fresh air. Besides, I promised I'd be nice to you and you aren't giving me the chance! :)
Navy Pier, 2pm tomorrow. I'll bring snacks. Bet you're not eating again.
Love and other indoor sports,
Molly.
If Nathan chooses to take her up on her invitation (and given that this story is playing out, one must assume he does), he'll find Molly seated on a bench on Navy Pier, munching on an ice cream cone. Another is melting in her free hand. Upon spotting him, she waves with the hand holding her ice cream cone. Ice cream therefore lands in her lap. "Awwwww fuckmuffins."
[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan has always been a bit of a recluse when his interest in something is peaked. Now, if Molly were to step inside his warehouse, she'd probably have one of her nerdgasms before potentially crossing over to shock at his new less-than-wondrous living arrangements.
Books. Everywhere.
More than before. Much more. It used to be only an admittedly large portion of the warehouse was covered in shelves, now over 5/6ths or some other abnormally high fraction was full of them, to the brim. With even more books on every table and other miscellaneous available surfaces around, piles of them. It was like he'd recently broken into a national library and decided to rob a whole wing. It'd also reduced his sizable 'apartment' to 'barely fit for a human' by severely restricting his space...
But he wasn't complaining. Sleep was for lesser beings when you had books to read and research to be done. A bed was better used on holding even more of your research material so it was handy.
Somewhere in that mess was his phone, not so much switched off as forgotten and with an empty battery. The Guardians had other methods of communication if need be, though he did keep a particularly private line for them just in case. A phoneline that he'd been almost as attached to as his books in search of a sign of Israel's whereabouts. Prayers that had been answered fortunately. Though his cheek still hurt from the punch. It had last time he'd actually gone out for something other than bare necessities. Even managed to make him shave quickly before rushing out the door.
Then back home again... where he'd suffered that strange moment of enlightenment, when you realize you aren't getting shit done no matter how much you pour into the books, he'd stepped out for a breath and gotten hit by a particular paper plane... It'd led to a decided alteration in the course of his day. So much so that he'd actually taken a moment to pick out his clothes after a good few hours' worth of sleep, not quite enough to entirely eliminate the bags forming under his eyes but enough for clear thought at least. It was a sign of how bad it was, his sleeping habit lately, he never slept properly and still managed to avoid bags under his eyes.
Molly's glance over to him, the one accompanied by a wave, finds him calmly pacing down the pier path in a clean-cut suit of a medium-grey shade, dark purple shirt with black tie and matching leather shoes. No slight bulge, sign of a gun to the trained eye, under it either. Hell, his appearance even seemed to indicate a recent haircut. Today, he seemed genuinely at peace. Or something of the kind. Maybe the gun was hidden elsewhere.
[Molly Quincannon] ".......I was right."
For the record, Molly doesn't look like she's been getting that much sleep either. Her clothes are about as casual as always (blue jeans now stained with raspberry ripple ice cream and a powder-blue T-shirt with a grumpy-looking, coffee=mug-bearing teddy bear on it and the slogan "Pour the coffee and back away slowly", purple Doc Martens and a Red Sox cap), and she wears a certain amount of seriousness under the usual frenetic good cheer. As she hands him the ice cream cone that she clearly intended for him (vanilla butterscotch, should one be curious), he might also notice the fading solder-burn scars and cuts and nicks and bruises of someone who's been having a full-on geek-out recently.
(Her workspace on the Lafette, as it happens, is a more technological, more outright physically dangerous and somewhat more compact version of Nathan's study - just with bits of tech instead of books. Molly keeps herself distracted in her own way.)
In any case, once her hands are free, she rummages around in her laptop bag and continues with her statement. "I brought reheatables. Lasagne, enchiladas and a pretty good shepherd's pie. You will take them home and you will remember to eat them or I will be vexed. Or peeved. Or miffed. Or something." Handing over Tupperware, she asks, "So how're you doing? Also, sit. And you look good. Makes me wish I'd dressed up." Then she looks at the ice cream blotch on her leg and wrinkles her nose. "Or ... maybe it's better I didn't."
[Nathan Spriggs] Taking the ice cream in his left hand as he deftly slid into the seat next to Molly, Nathan's gaze slowly followed along the pier scenery before turning to Molly and a small glance down at the ice cream blotch. It earned a light chuckle for him as he dug through his pockets for a handkerchief to offer. He was always prepared. The yuppie boyscout, some might say if they say him dressed like this. "Fate, perhaps?"
He adds after a quick taste of his ice cream. "You know, never been a big fan of butterscotch, but this is good. Thanks, and how are you, ice cream incidents aside?" To the foot offerings, he quirks an eyebrow in what might be surprise, amusement or wonder. Pick any of the three, they were interchangeable. "How will you know if I eat 'em? I could just pretend I did."
[Molly Quincannon] "I'd just have to trust you, wouldn't I? And watch you carefully when you answer how you liked them." Molly takes the commentary more or less back to front, smiling thanks at the offered handkerchief before planting a quick, sneaky, very light kiss on his cheek (the one that got punched, unfortunately, but at least it's light).
Then, though, she dabs at the ice cream stain and says, "You're welcome. I figured it was an ice cream kind of day. As to how I am ... in all honesty, stressed. Worried. Sure I'm not doing enough. But if you want to compare how I'm doing to some of the others? I'd have to say 'peachy-keen, jellybean'. ...Or, I would if I was feeling in a retro kind of mood, I guess. How about you?" She shoots him a sideways look that probably can't actually see him owing to the peripheral vision problems glasses-wearers generally have, particularly if their eyesight's as outright horrible as Molly's is. "Apart from not sleeping as well as you could and the whole 'you're probably not eating very well' thing, I mean. That bit's kind of obvious, sorry to say."
[Nathan Spriggs] He offers the slightest of winces at the kiss' placement, more body reflex from unawareness than actual pain in the inflammated area. It actually surprises him that she hasn't asked about the bruising, it wasn't huge but it wasn't hidden either. Did Israel or Solomon tell...? Oh God no. "Eat it I shall, then. Though I could use the company while doing so." He says with a slight grin, careful not to aggravate his cheek too much.
With another taste of the ice cream, a sizable chunk eaten as a whole rather than licked to death, he shrugs and says, "I'm well, I guess. No serious bodily damage, fortunately. Just... busy. Good-busy, enjoyable-busy. Lots of reading. You should come by soon and see some of my new books." Why yes, that is a follow-up to his earlier not-quite indirect dinner invitation. "But what's got you stressed? Everything okay?"
[Molly Quincannon] If Israel did say something (because let's face it, it was unlikely to be Solomon - at least, it's more likely to be Israel, given how close these two women have become the last little while), Molly doesn't give a lot of indication. No, she doesn't ask about the bruising, but neither does she take him to task for any insensitivity.
You can almost see it, can't you? Israel saying something about it and then telling Molly to be kind to him, look after him, because he'd be hurting too...
"Company you shall have, then," she says, returning the little grin as she echoes his first statement. "And you know I can never resist poking around your bookshelves." Are we veering into double-entendre of some sort, there? If so, it's brief, and ends with a sigh and a return of a serious expression. "I could do with getting out for a bit anyway. Probably Atlas could stand to not have me out for awhile. I'm trying not to be annoying, but ... I'm worried about him. He's been so ... subdued lately. And I'm trying to bite down on questions like 'what happened in there?' and..." She bites down on something - bites down hard - and moves on, a little awkwardly. "...and other stuff. But I can't because I don't want to drag up anything painful when he's already so down. And I try to help by trying to take him out of himself and at least make sure he eats, but ... I'm just worried about him. He's been a good friend to me, and I feel like I'm letting him down."
Then the grin comes back, a bit wan. "Though at least I've got it better than Ellie. She's got a newly-Awakened fire-sprite roommate and math homework. At least I can help with the math homework parts..."
[Nathan Spriggs] [I'm just gonna smile, nothing happened. No Nephandi fetuses, move along; Manip + Expression]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Molly Quincannon] [[Eh, screw it. Perc + Aware-as-Empathy - You hiding things from me again?]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Nathan Spriggs] He grins, in a vaguely forced manner but it's a natural thing. Like he's forcing it to comfort her in her pain, rather than... you know, the myriad of complex emotions he feels when she mentions Atlas and the strange place and it brings him back to The mistake. It isn't easy to get Solomon to punch you, brotherly punch or not, whatever opinions of him people might hold to the contrary.
No, this is innocent!Nathan with no self-loathing. Move on, do not pass Go, do not collect 200 dollars.
Instead of focusing on the bad, he takes a moment to smile in an oddly-pleased manner that actually hold some level of honesty behind it whatever the emotions deep down might otherwise reflect. "Good, we haven't spoken properly in too long. I'm sure you'll like what you find in my bookshelves." All good things must come to an end however as his smile shifts to a slightly careful-of-the-minefield sort with a, "...Yeah, but I'm sure he appreciates that you're there for him at least. I'm sure with time he'll speak, just needs to feel back home and take a break."
It's an infliction in his tone now, how he speaks partly from experience on this. The recovering from traumas, especially of the spiritual kind. Adjusting is the first step. "But yeah, heh, sometimes it's better to stay quiet than make a mistake trying to help." This is added more as a seeming afterthought than a comment to himself, even the tone doesn't shake thanks to a sizable amount of willpower in maintaining the mask of privacy in his personal conflicts. Some things never changed...
In truth, it was more a slight poke at the punch-related issue than anything else. At measuring how much she knew and perhaps also why she was stressed. Similar mistakes?
[Nathan Spriggs] [How emotionally blind am I this week?; Perc + Aware]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Molly Quincannon] Molly's not actually trying to hide anything - it's usually the way. She hasn't made 'similar mistakes' ... not that she knows about. It seems more that she's walking a line of caution that she's not used to, and it stresses her out even though she knows it's the best way, however much she wants to barge in full throttle like she does everything else. Not to mention ... it doesn't seem to be just Atlas that she's worried that she's letting down. When someone asks her to do something and she can't, or isn't succeeding well enough in her own opinion ... well. Molly is one of those dogged, frantic, determined people who doesn't do well being leashed, particularly not by her own limitations.
All that comes in a small snort of laughter and a very rueful, wry little smirk. "Oh, I don't do quiet. You know that. I just ... don't say anything important. I say, 'come see what I did with the navigational array' and 'hey, want to have a look at Zoing?' or ... hell, 'come play DDR with me!' Yes, I've got Atlas to play one of my dance sims. He still draws the line there, though. I keep swearing I'll get him onto Warcrack one of these days. Anyway, what I don't do is address the problem. Israel ... she always says stuff about how you shouldn't leave wounds to fester; sometimes they need to be lanced and poked and stung with stuff to ever heal clean. But ... I'm not a healer. All I can do is all I can do, and... Well." She shrugs. "How do you know when it's enough?" Then, a sigh. "Shit. Now I know how everyone else felt around me, after the whole ... bar-alley-museum basement thing." (They are, after all, in public. Nathan knows what she means.)
Then, a grin that's a little more cheerful - nothing can keep Molly down for long, it seems. "And no, we haven't spoken properly in too long. And whose fault is that, Mr 'Buried-in-the-personal-library, never-comes-up-for-air'? And you haven't even visited my current digs yet. I haven't had a chance to show off Zoing. Oh, and on the subject of digs, I was meaning to ask you something. You've still got the contacts and stuff you used to buy your place, right?"
[Nathan Spriggs] Nathan isn't fully in topic-avoidal mode at least, as he responds to Molly's grin with a smile of his own, calm in that unique poker-face sort of expression he's capable of but caring all the same. "Well, I don't think any plan to board the ship we've made, if any," and he knows none have been made but it sounds more dramatic anyway, "have ever been followed up on..." He says with a nod, all of the contexts he'd read and little telltale emotions he was feeling hidden from the surface and bottled up as was his usual M.O.
"I do though, yeah. Why? Need a place of your own? Spread the proverbial wings a bit?" A wry grin spreads across his face all the while with another poker-face smile of care at her problems and even a speedy stealth kiss that reciprocates the one she'd planted on his cheek. "Don't worry about it too much, I'm sure you'll do fine. If there's one thing you've got going for you, it's a people-and-honesty sort of vibe."
"That's why you pick up all the strays," he adds with a chuckle. "Speaking of, 'spit-fire'?" Nathan had an idea or two of possibilities but they seemed unlikely, or maybe just too long ago to seem possible. Especially from the 'Awakened' mention.
[Molly Quincannon] Another heavy sigh, though it's a complicated sound - weariness, responsibility ... possibility. And it lightens, of course, when Nathan kisses her cheek. "Thanks. It's nice to know that someone whose opinion I really care about has faith in me. It helps. Also, we'll have to make some definite plans, one of these days. I'll make dinner. Zoing will serve tea." Yes, she is waiting for him to ask about Zoing.
"Anyway, about the space - it was going to be for me, but ... I can't leave the ship. Not now, not for good. I don't like to think of Atlas kicking around that ship like the last peanut in the jar. Not with ... everything. But maybe. Eventually. No, this is ... for all of us. It won't have the advantages of the House, obviously, but ... I thought, somewhere that everyone can go, even if they're not ... y'know, grouped up the way we are. Someplace we can all touch base, with no politics. We're drifting apart, all of us. It's becoming ... 'us' and 'them'. I want to make a middle ground - middling but not too potent library, kitchen, gym and sparring circle, a few places to crash, that kind of thing. I want to make a ... not a formal place, but a hangout, crash-pad ... sanctuary." She grins, then. "Idealistic bullshit, I know, but I'm going to try. It can be a fixer-upper; I don't mind putting in the labour, if it'll spare some extra cash for the things I can't build. It just ... seems like a good idea."
Then she addresses the other serious bit. "Well, I said 'fire-sprite', actually, but same principle. Kid named Addie Calvert. Friend of Ellie's. You said you knew her, when I mentioned it after those two got friendly. Addie's place is where Ellie went when Fort Q got compromised. They seem to get along. And a little Ellie-bird tells me that the fire-sprite woke up over where they were for the last month. That's got to be a shocker for the kid."
[Nathan Spriggs] Color him surprised, he was right in his guess. Which surprised him even more when she fact she'd Woken went into the thought, but ultimately it drew a smile. Maybe by not being completely 'special', she'd find a place she belonged in after all. Who knew. Seemed she was doing fine, and he'd remembered Molly's mentioning her before now that his thoughts wandered there.
"Spit-fire, fire-sprite. Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toh," is the first thing he says in response with a grin. It disappears for a moment however as she mentions her attachment to the Lafette, something he can understand. Can't help but feel sorry for her though, in a way she was forced into one place. Helped remind him that connecting with people as bad for you as it was good, too many vulnerabilities left in the aftermath. Had to keep that in mind, especially after the other night.
"I got'cha," he adds with a nod when she gives him a glimpse at her master plan. It actually draws an honest, proud sort of smile from him now. "I'm glad you found a purpose, and I agree. It sounds like a great idea. I'll see what I can do, take you up on the labor part too. I'll arrange a buy of some type, but it's best kept as private as possible so we'll need to handle things discreetly. Which is to say, personally."
Yes, he did say 'we'. Nathan had a feeling they might need his help, and even if they didn't, he'd still like to be on the team. Give him a bit of direction in his currently lost path. That and it beat being stuck inside a warehouse reading... maybe. Could be. "I think I've picked up some new tricks with Matter, I want to test it. Maybe I can handle the remodeling and you the technical stuff? What d'ya say, partners?"
[Molly Quincannon] Molly grins, and offers a hand as if to shake. If he takes it, though, she doesn't shake it; she kisses it instead. "Partners," she says, "but I've got a better way of keeping it discreet. You know Ashley's other name got compromised; you must have wondered why mine didn't. I've got a half-dozen fake shell companies out there, all leading up to digital phantasms. If one of those buys a place and that place gets busted ... people tracking it end up chasing their tails for six months, only to find that they're left with nothing but a ghost. It's a thought to keep in mind; while you can hide a lot with cash, you can hide a lot more with judicious application of technological know-how and a lot more technological bullshit. Plus it gets on people's nerves, and blows resources, and that's always fun."
And of course, she then meanders into blue-skying. "I'm hoping to get Atlas in on it. Maybe getting him out of the Lafette for awhile will do him some good, and I could use some of his tech savvy. Maybe Solomon has some connections that might help too? I've never done something this ... big before, and I bet there's a lot of logistics I haven't even thought about yet. If nothing else, there's the funding issue. Though I suppose I could always hit Vegas for a few days. Hell, when you can card-count like I can, you barely even need some of our ... other advantages." She's teasing. Mostly. Probably. Maybe. "So ... y'know, you're one of the best strategic-planning people I know. Beyond 'getting a building and poking at it with power tools and talents until a functioning sanctuary comes out', any ideas what else we might need?"
[Nathan Spriggs] "I can do one better," Nathan says with a mischievous grin, "I've got a few real companies we can use. Not all mine nor too huge, but majority stock, y'know..." It answered some questions that people might ask themselves, like how far did his pockets go and how. As Molly put it, he was a strategist, or tried to be at least. It didn't always work out that way. But there were always alternative incomes available to him, different paper trails to set and leave at will in case one got tapped. This was just one of the numerous.
"Red-tape and official-esque cover. More leeway on place too, abandoned or condemned building remodeled as office building. Seems legit, gets us a larger place. Reason for people to be coming in and out all the time. Maybe even guard duty stuff." Why yes, he had formulated a 'small' plan on the spot upon hearing her dream.
Before continuing however, he once more reciprocated the kiss, before turning his head up slightly and planting another on her lips. "Molly, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership." To the other issues, he goes quiet for a moment and considers what they'd need, manpower included. "Hm, an infirmary is a must. As this month proved, we can't always expect to have someone like Israel on hand to rely on. That means we need doctors of some kind too is possible, but that's probably too far out with the current crowd... Hm, an escape route for emergencies too. I think I can figure something out on that part. The rest, I have to consider carefully."
[Molly Quincannon] "..........I think I might be able to get us a doctor." This, of course, after the blush from the being-kissed fades a little (she does so like it when he takes the initiative). "I've got a ... friend, another just-woke-up type. Old Warcrack buddy, just hit Chicago. I didn't even know until, like, yesterday, but we went out for coffee and ... well. You know how it goes. Surprise, surprise; small world and all that. Anyway, she's an intern. I'll have to set up a meet at some point. Anyway, as to escape routes ... I can point you out a few likely spots for buildings, ones that have basement access to some of the tunnels under the city. There's a lot of tunnels, and some contain ... some nasty, but I've been trying to keep areas clear where I can. If we find a place that looks right, we can take down a team and make sure an exit route's clear. I'll have to take you on some of my Undertown jaunts sometime."
More pondering, and then, "Manpower's a little tricky, but I've got a few names that might be good to call on, particularly for what you call 'guard duty' stuff. Elizabeth'd be all over this; it fits in with her lifestyle strategy in a big way. Kim'd be good - she's from Wharil's social tribe, so to speak, and you two could talk about firepower until the cows came home. Also Callista - she's a journo; does the field reporting on the local news. You might have seen her, if you watch TV news. She has some of the damnest local contacts, which is always good when you're starting a new venture like this." Yes, Nathan is logistics, and Molly ... well, she's the people-person, at least in this set.
[Nathan Spriggs] "The fates smile upon us after all, interns are good. That way we also have someone who can fetch us our coffee and do the mook work without needing pay." There's an innocent smile after the comment followed by a short chuckle, "Seriously speaking though, it seems things are already looking favorable."
It felt like such a long time ago when he was one of the first stops on the greeting committee, it seemed that ship had sailed. He'd finally lost the need to meet every little person just to get a first glimpse at opportunities to get ahead, it was time to settle into the nest he'd found. At least he still had jobs to do. "Right, I'll run a checklist of things, and if we don't have a route, we can always make one ourselves. Element of surprise if someone has floor plans prior to any assaults or other such bad situations."
[Molly Quincannon] The joke about interns gets him a swat on the shoulder - playful, to judge by the cute little grin. "Oh, stop it; interns are good, medically speaking. But yeah; yeah, it looks like we've got the foundations, at least. In a non-literal sense, anyway. The rest ... well, that'll just take some good old-fashioned work, and I think we can manage that. Having a group project would be good. For all of us. It's about time we started being a community again."
Then she looks at Nathan's ice-cream-sticky handkerchief and stuffs it in a pocket, saying, "I'll get that back to you once I've washed it. In the meantime, while I know you have food now--" pointed glance at the Tupperware "--that can be saved for later, because I think you also need company. And I need off the ship for awhile, and also company. Specifically, yours, because it is a rare thing and wondrous and I'm going to make the most of it. Therefore, I think we should have ... late lunch, or early dinner, or whatever you call a meal at this time of day. So let's go find a restaurant-of-your-choice and we can talk books and tea-serving robots and ... I dunno, Ten Fun Things You Can Do With A Mild Electrical Current or something." She gives herself another once-over and adds, "...As long as restaurant-of-your-choice doesn't have a dress code. Although I guess there's ways around that, if I put my ... ahem, Mind to it." (And yes, she has the good grace to look a little sheepish and roll her eyes at the pun.)
[Nathan Spriggs] Enter the roll of the eyes and short facepalm moment that fades away into a smile of amusement. "Right, no dress-code. Difficult but completely possible. Also, tea-serving robots? Really?" There's a quirk of the brow there as he stretched and adds, "You are right though, bit early for dinner and bit late for lunch... Hit the movies first perhaps? I've heard good things about that one film, 'Limitless' I think it was?"
With those words, he slowly pushes himself up from the bench and offers his hand to Molly to help her up. Then he'll wait for an aye or a nay before they're off into the horizon. As it's too early for sunset. "You are henceforth banned from speaking for the next ten minutes by the way, that was a horrible pun."
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