What Keeps You Going?

[Thomas Black] It was nice weather for once, even Thomas had to give way to warm weather. A tight fitted black vest top, long cargo pants and worn converse are the attire for the day. Cigarette hangs from his lips and that tan 'wheeler and dealer' over coat is held by a finger over his shoulder [Always be ready for rain].

He was making his way to the local scrap yard, he needed some metal sheets for his craft work [Yes he did metal working.....sush it is a secret] as he walks down the curb towards the local scrap yard a few blocks away. A cigarette hangs from his lips and black sun glasses shield his eyes but for the obvious reason of the light. Not the Jhor the Jhor had gone and the depression and emotional trauma had also lessoned, this was more a Tom of yore. He stops as he watches a woman run by sweating and wearing very little, his free hand lowers the glasses as he grins. One thing that had returned was shamelessly his sex drive.

He pushes the glasses back up as he thumbs the controller on his MP3 player as Rob Zombie blasts out for anyone in the local area as he carries on his travels

[Molly Quincannon] Entropy has a lot to answer for, most days. As Thomas is walking in one direction, blasting Rob Zombie, there's a Molly coming from the other direction, wearing nearly as little as the jogger that just ran by (though she has less ... attribute to show off in most departments, she makes up for it in tattoos). Tiny shredded jean shorts, wife-beater cut off to just below her breasts, and Orbital on her own headphones ... just played softer than Thomas' music. Partly this is because she is hauling a little red wagon full of engine parts, a couple of big old-fashioned car headlights and a very large car bumper, and she needs to pay some attention to where she's going lest she trip passers-by. It is not light, her little red wagon, and it's a hot day. But she's determined (Tenacious) to make her way from point A to point B, wherever point B might be.

[Thomas Black] [Per & Aware]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 8 (Failure at target 6)

[Thomas Black] He doesn't smell her, in fact when Molly is approaching Thomas looks at her very much like the jogger, the glasses get lowered as he admires her tattoo's [He is a Hollow One after all]. an eyebrow raises and then he looks at her face and blinks. He then notices the red wagon behind her as he reaches for the volume and lowers it his free hand moving to take out the head phones.

"Info?" He stops where he is and looks over her again the cigarette rolling from one corner to the other as he head tilts to the side "That is a very fetchin' look for ya pet, you sud dress less more often."

A very fetching look.

[Molly Quincannon] [[Straight Alertness, I think...]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 9, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] There's movement and a voice that seems to be directed at her, though some of it seems to be complimentary to a figure she doesn't strictly speaking have, so Molly looks over and... "Hey, Thomas!" She grins at him and pops out her own earbuds without bothering to switch anything off or turn it down. "Yeah, it's too hot for much in the way of clothes today but any less and I'd be breaking indecency laws or something. Which ... I'm not in the mood for cops today. Too much to do. I have a project and you would not believe the things people just junk and doesn't anyone have any respect for things that were built to last if people just put the effort in? And..."

Molly does eventually shut up. It takes her awhile, but she gets there with a blush and a note of sheepishness added to the grin. "Anyway, I'll stop ranting now. Hi. What brings you by the back end of the Land that Recycling Nearly Forgot on such a hot sunny Sunday?"

[Thomas Black] Molly would notice a change in Thomas, even a change from their last meeting [Of which he was still carrying some emotional Jhor baggage] He seemed happier. Well as happy as a Hollow One does. Molly may think she doesn't have the figure but who says such attributes have to be massive, it's all about proportion he walks on over to her, letting Molly verbal assault get absorbed, consumed.

"I'd protect ya from the pigs pet." He moves the glasses to just past his forehead resting on that short cropped hair as he offers a charming wink. He hand moves out and touches her shoulder and that unrecognisable pattern. "Chinatown, slave traders..." His thumb brushes over her skin as he removes his hand smoke slowly coming from his nose. "Another mans junk is sumone elses treasure, was just on me way to the yard to pick up sum scraps, though I 'ave to say seein' you 'as changed me chinese." He was being charming, more charming than molly has ever seen him.

He holds out a hand gesturing to the red wagon "Cockney 'elp a lady with 'er wagon

[Cha & Expression, yes the cockney is being charming and nice, be suspious, be very suspious]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 7, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[Molly Quincannon] Molly grins a little at the reminder of just what happened to that particular bit of tattoo. "It used to be circuitboard patterns. But let's face it, I can wear scars at least as honestly as I can anything else, design-wise. Frequently do, in fact. You look ... like you're enjoying the day." That's how she's going to put it, and where she's going to leave it. She knows about the Jhor, and that he was working his way past it. She's curious, but often she can get the answers she wants just from her observational skills and what she remembers from previous bits and pieces. Combine that with the (over)confidence that means that she can't possibly conceive of being wrong in her guesses, there are some things that she just doesn't see the need to ask about. Still, there's a bit of extra weight in the words that gives away what she's guessing about his improvement in mood - that he really is improving - and how glad she is to see it.

The offer of help gets a grin. She's not a suspicious person, not where her friends are concerned, and that has occasionally got her hurt - emotionally, at least (though once physically - who would have thought that her back-up would pistol-whip her for any reason?), but she doesn't jump to odd conclusions, not even about the 'loveable rogue'. What she is, is highly self-sufficient. "Well, I'm nearly there, actually." She points at a spot that advertises garage space and lift rental and general 'fix your car in our space' services, then rummages in her pockets and pulls out a key on a Death Note keyring. "You could open the door for me, though. I want to show off the project to somebody anyhow."

[Thomas Black] "We might as well enjoy the days we got left..." He plucks the dying cigarette from his lips, places it between forefinger and thumb and tosses it to the side. He still believed the end was coming, he just wasn't planning on it being tomorrow anymore [Though he was ready]. Molly was the first person he met in Chicago, they had some adventures and have helped each other in different ways [Thomas was the one that convinced her to face what happened] but beyond that different people, different circles.

She doesn't want him to help her that way and he shrugs, not one to force any [freely] offered help on anyone. She pulls out the keys and mentions a new project which with Molly could be anything. He looks over to the garage and nods. "'kay pet, Tommy can do that." He steps to the side so Molly can keep on 'trucking' with the wagon and moves along with her. "Yer looking well!" Three 'meaningful' compliments and they only just met surely he is possessed.

He isn't he is happy, a rare moment in the Hollowers life, one that will no doubt quickly pass. "So apart from the pet project, 'ows tricks, life robin, everythin' solid?"

[Molly Quincannon] She gives him an open, joyful sort of smile - partly it's the compliments but it's also seeing him happy. Molly takes her joys where she can find them. "As solid as it can be, yeah. Atlas is feeling better and I think I've finally debugged Zoing and been getting a lot of study done. Plus ... well, the project."

By this time, the door is open, and parked inside is a rusted but clearly part-restored and work-in-progress-ish 1962 Chrystler Crown Imperial convertible. The current paint (cream) is flaked and a little rusted around the rocker panels but the doors and bonnet are spotless and a deep shade of charcoal grey - apparently the colour the whole car's going to be eventually. The reason for the bumper and the headlights is pretty clear - the former is dented and rust-eaten, and the latter are shattered on the right-hand side.

Then, with the door open, Molly wheels in the wagon and looks over at Thomas, nearly ramming into the boat of a car parked in the garage space she's apparently rented. "How about you? Anything new and exciting? Or is it just the sunshine that's got you so cheery? Also, want anything to drink? I've got cola, iced coffee and beer."

[Thomas Black] "Beer." Is his answer as he looks at the car. He seems in particular to be looking at the metal work, he knew nothing about engines. "Tis a nice ride pet..." He walks around it, considering the bike he rides you would think Thomas has no idea about a nice ride. "Am 'avin'a robin day pet tis all, don't fret be hat to me roots in no lemon." He goes down on one knee and examines some of the rust around the rocker panels. "You want me to de rust this thing, or you goin' by the all done with yer germans an sum robin sweat." Sweat comes out suggestively as he stands looking back over to Molly.

"As for me, am keepin' meself busy, nuthin' too excitin' or the like." With Thomas you can never tell, might be the truth might be a cover for something else. He chucks his overcoat over the bonnet of the car. "Take it you thought the Tardis mobile bit too obvious?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly had already been reaching in the cooler stashed under a workbench, and a bottle of beer in her hand for Thomas before he even said the word. (No, no Mind involved; she just knows him.) So the beer is quick in coming, and she wrinkles her nose cheerfully at the offer of getting rid of the rust. "Thanks, but I think it's going to be old-fashioned sweat on this one. Besides, I've got a set of rocker panels coming on order. Those I just can't scavenge. I like building my own cars. S'how I got the TARDIS-mobile. I found the shell of an old Beetle in Dad's scrapyard and put it together myself. The Imperial's going to be a lot more work, but worth it in the end." She opens her own can of Jolt and downs a healthy swallow before going on. "Most of it's going to be reworking the engine to get better gas mileage on this thing. These old boats were long before the oil crises, so mileage wasn't exactly their worry."

Then she sighs and answers the last one - it's a bit of a sad one, at odds with the cheer of the day, but really it's more nostalgia than anything else. "Yeah. I mean, it's been safe enough to drive the last few months, even repainted, but ... I needed a new project and I guess better safe than sorry. I'm not scrapping my baby, though. It's hard to scrap something you built from the ground up and have driven for ten years or so. And I guess if this old battleship doesn't hold my interest, I can always sell her on. Classic car collectors pay top dollar for a good restored car, and the '62 Crown Imperial's one of the best Chrystler came up with." Then she stops, considers ... and giggles. "Man, what is it with me and cars from 1962? The TARDIS-mobile, and now the battleship... Obviously I have a thing for cars from that year, huh?"

[Thomas Black] He looks over to her as she speaks hand reaching out to take the beer from her when she offers it. He nods to her when he told her she built the TARDIS mobile from a shell, he would be surprised but he knew Molly also. She doesn't want him to ease the rust he too understands that much, then Molly seems a touch sad about the fate of her last ride.

Thomas puts a cigarette in his mouth as he finally speaks up. "Thomas Law 3 - 'The less you 'ave the more you gain'" He pulls out that brass zippo as he brings it to light the smoke. " A divergence of opinion the only old things Thomas has are those that haven't been destroyed or stolen yet. "Reckon everyone needs a change pet, lemon to move on embrace....well the 1962's all over 'gain...an nuthin' pete with bringin' hat the past, a robin lemon, yer embracin' yer individuality, sumthin' all true hollow ones respect."

He moves a crate and sits on it. "So am I gonna get chance to see ya all oiled up an sweaty? A beer an a show turnin' out better an better this day."

[Molly Quincannon] The laugh Molly gives is delighted. "Leave it to a Cultist to move on by bringing back a piece of the past. And I suppose a totally refurbed '62 Beetle could get a good price on the collector's market too. Though really? I'm thinking for an actual ride of my own, I ought to build a motorcycle. Something classic like a fifties Harley or a seventies Kawasaki. I figure those make pretty awesome getaway rides, given they can take streets cars can't." She shrugs. "Really, the restoration thing's a hobby. And to prove I can. My father was a mechanic. He never let me help with anything. Now? Now I build stuff just because I can."

The rest of it gets a grin. "Well, if you want to hang around while I put things together, feel free. Nice to have some company other than my iPod." She wheels her little red wagon over to the workbench and starts spreading out her spoils on the work space not taken up with a mostly-finished engine. "You might lose sight of me when I do the crawly-gator thing to replace the muffler, but I can still hear pretty well under there. So!" She picks up a socket wrench and a bit of scrap and gets to work. "What've you been up to the last month or so? Has it been quiet? Ish? I don't know about you but I've been having more or less respite from the usual weird. Apart from one of the more fucked-up dreams in human history. My subconscious is weird."

[Thomas Black] "Bikes are the way forward pet, but wat ever floats yer boat." He takes out the cigarette and has a long gulp of his beer. No pressure on his staying and for once he makes no excuse for having to leave. She talk about her father and he doesn't add anything, doesn't want to family talk would make this conversation very short.

"I can 'ang, an as long as you cum out sweaty an oil covered works for me." He sits back settling in. The last month had been quiet for him also, a welcome break that allowed him to fully recover from the Jhor though something she mentions raises an eyebrow. "I never really 'member me dreams, I consume them leavin' nuthin' left for the mornin' though I did 'ave a pretty fuckin' vivid one on the full moon, 'ow weird is that." He thinks back on it "You know, one of those where you die....it was...unsettlin'" He leans forward the cigarette back in his lips. "I was in an ocean, there were mermaids that kicked me off this boat, I got foced under water, then the surface was covered in ice an sumthin' black, sumthin' old and big rose up from the depths and...." He shrugs "It killed me, wat 'about yers?" He isn't reading into too much, just a dream and as good a topic as anything.

[Molly Quincannon] "Mine tried," she says. "There was ... a panther. Big, big panther. And given that the panther had been ... someone I know, who someone else I know shot for something really, really stupid ... it was freaky and unsettling and that's not even counting the here-and-then-gone girl that no one noticed but me." Clearly she knows more details than that. Molly doesn't forget anything. But she's detailing the important (and, more to the point, less personal) bits. "So corpse became huge man-eating panther. I got left with a gun. I shot it while it was trying to pounce me. It landed on top of me and could have taken my throat out, but ... it was like it kissed me. Then everything went black and I woke up." She shrugs. "I guess it's a good thing I've been learning how to shoot. Still, I wonder about the girl. I don't know what the point of that was. Everything else was ... something I was at least familiar with."

As she speaks, she's still working on the engine. She does tend to dive into her work, and she's already greasy to the elbows. This explains a lot about the state of her hands (always calloused, always a little scarred). Still, she's paying at least a certain amount of attention when she asked, "Do you have weird dreams often? I mean, I know some people do, and sometimes they mean stuff, but ... I've only ever had them when I wanted to."

[Thomas Black] He listens to her description of the dream, it was strange but then most dreams are. He knows of Hollow Ones that divine the future out of dreams but it has never been something he was either interested in or could do. Too do it you had to remember the dream and thats what made this one stand out. "No." It sounded sad in a way "I know I dream but I don't remember them, I consume them, they wander away I only 'member a couple of dreams since I awoke, tis the sad part of my echo." He shrugs the smoke pouring from his lungs "I just sleep, the sleep of the dead, like we all will sum lemon..." He sighs wistfully "I use to 'member dreams of girls, of finally bein' free, of lots of things but there from a kid a long lemon ago an 'e also died a long lemon ago." He smiles faintly, wistfully remember all these childhood dreams that had faded over time.

"I member this one, an one last year....but the last year one doesn't really 'ave images just words...." Unknown too Thomas it was when Israel invaded his dreams to manipulate them, to help him overcome his Jhor. A secret she keeps to this day and should if Thomas ever found out. He looks tot he car and the feet sticking out. "Wat 'bout you, you a dreamer pet?"

[Molly Quincannon] She listens, but keeps working; if she doesn't, she'd reach out and try to comfort him, and Thomas isn't the type who responds well to that. Instead, she just sort of wiggles her feet at him and answers the question. "Oh yeah. I mean, I think everybody dreams; it's just whether you remember it in the morning. I don't forget much." Well, she doesn't forget anything, but... "So I know I dream. Just mostly they don't mean too much; just my brain sorting out the detritus of all the input I've had during the day. Fears, hopes, desires ... sometimes just plain old mundane stuff. I swear, once I dreamed I was grocery shopping. I mean, I planned to grocery shop the next day and it was like my brain just decided to plan out the shopping trip while I was sleeping. Using the time productively, or something, I don't know. Then again, that was also the night that I had a brief dream of riding a giant robotic chicken through tundra while shooting at giant monkeys, but I had just had a four-hour Warcrack bender. Stupid escort quests."

She comes out from under the car, then; smudged with engine grease, glasses a little askew, hair likewise mussed. "The ones you remember ... are you glad you do, or wish you didn't?"

[Thomas Black] Molly remembers her dreams. Thomas looks at those wriggling feet and doesn't know if he is thankful or jealous, the dreams she mentions are not really the ones he long for but still he doesn't have them. There's a small laughter at the sound of giant monkeys as he hears her moving and she comes out from under the car. Asking for all intents and purposes a very intimate question as far as Thomas was concerned.

Face or evade....

The cigarette has nearly burnt down and the smoke wanders over his face the beer held in both hands elbows resting on his knees. "They want the best to 'member pet, not like I 'ad a mass orgy or nuthin'. I dreamed of dying and dreamed words...." He shrugs, the most honest answer he could give. "I'd rather 'ave one or the other you know, so no I wish I 'adn't. Dreams....well they signal a future don't they, an this place is 'eadin' down the toilet, live for the now not the morrow." He smiles though wistfully.

"Now If I still dreamed like I did an not know wat I know then yeah why not, there were women, there were fun lemons, friends, feelin', 'ope...." He drops the cigarette on the floor and drinks heavily from his beer. "Thomas Law 15- If wishes were fishes, no one would ever go hungry. ! Pointless thinkin' 'bout that, I just deal with wat am served, play the german you go isle."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly considers that, then nods and lets that part of it go. There's something else he's said, though, and she looks up at him from her position on her crawly-gator, arms wrapped around her knees, looking rather young. (She's older than he is; sometimes, it does not show. It's not so much physical appearance as attitude, because Molly wears her idealism like a badge of honour most of the time.) "Do you ever think that maybe you - we, I guess - could ... y'know, stop the world from ... heading down the toilet, as you put it? I mean, sure, stuff happens, but ... we remake the world in our own image every day. Everyone does. That's what consensus means. And we eat it for breakfast, consensus. Sure, it smacks us around, but we still give it the finger and do what we want anyway. And even your average Sleeper makes the world into what they think it is, or else we wouldn't have Paradox to deal with at all. I just ... well, this isn't a thing where I'm trying to convince you to change your world-view or being judgemental; this is just curiosity and you can tell me to shut up if you want. I just ... wonder why you think the world's beyond saving."

[Thomas Black] He looks to her, meets her eyes his own blue so bright right now, so full of life that it strikes such an exact opposite with the words her speaks, the meaning and depth they carry their certainty he gives them. She looks so young but the hopeful always are, it is why he looks aged when he is so much younger "No." It is final, it is defined it is certain to him. "The world is dyin', 'as been for a long lemon, if we define reality, if where the ones to save it then surely paradox wud get the sleepers isle. Every year were told more things give us cancer an they believe it 'appens, more and more were told that were due an extinction event an so far we 'ave been fuckin' lucky not to 'ave one appear. The seas are polluted, the ice caps are meltin' war rages over the world, women are raped, children are killed...if we can define reality then why ain't it changin', why 'as it got worse an why do the old timers talk of the year 2000 like doomsday, wen it shifted and reality really pulled out the teeth." He sighs, he never likes telling anyone this and Molly will still believe what she wants to, and good for her, only the straw people should know the truth.

"Every life I save, every difference I make is a reprieve, is an extra ticket, I do it 'cos it is the isle thing to do, I do it 'cos tomorrow I don't want it too end, but one day perhaps tomorrow, perhaps in 20 it won't be e'nuff, it will be it the end. Folks will cry, loved ones will gather...look around you, really look around you, in yer circle you make a massive difference Info, you save folks, yer mightily brave, you change the world by just bein'...but 'ow much do you change, you change the world around ya, in yer vision, in yer sight but there are billions of folks that won't feel yer touch, that know there gonna die, what do you think that does to consensus, they fear death by cancer, death by cars, by the heart by a mugger, by a fuckin' big mac. Life is dying all over, extinction is 'appenin' in all species, wat makes us so special. Dragons, mythical beasts 'ave already gone, stuff you still find not 1000 years ago, gone forgotten like dreams an nightmares"

He puts the beer to his lips and downs it all, his Adams apple showing as he does, one hand wipes his lips. "If we cud stop it, the Smiths wud not 'ave won, but the Smiths don't even realise that they can't stop it, we 'ave the power of the gods, but we ain't the word, none of us are, 'e don't exist." He chuckles dryly "Do you think I wanna die, I don't but I will, Thomas Law 6 -Everythin' that 'as a beginnin' 'as an end"

[Molly Quincannon] ".........The Smiths didn't win." That's the first thing, and spoken with intense conviction. "Nobody won. They lost as much as we did, and the only thing that actually won was apathy. Or at least, that's what the veterans that taught me always said. I believe that because the Mirrorshades lost their Umbral spaces, lost their bases, lost as many of their people as we did. And because they aren't in control anymore - nowhere near as much as they think they are. Not with things as they stand now, anyway."

The rest gets a shrug. "Everybody's got their own views on it. Me? I'm a Cultist, sure, but I'm also big into physics. Nothing's created or destroyed; it just changes shape. Everything that has a beginning has an end, I'll get behind that ... but every end is a new beginning. My bunch have a saying too - 'even a tree rent by lightning may yet bear fruit'. Some people are happy enough just to enjoy the ride, bless the slack and don't waste their breath cursing the drop. Others prefer not to go gently into that good night, and rage against the dying of the light, as the poem goes. Then there are people like Israel, who take a quieter view on it - lighting a single candle rather than cursing the dark. Everyone's got their way of dealing, and it's not my place to say whether yours is right or wrong. I guess ... what I don't get is, if you really think it's all hopeless and it's all going to end, sooner rather than later, and nothing gets better ... what keeps you going?"

Then, to address something that came up somewhere in the middle, she just chuckles. "As to what I change? Great Google, man, I see miracles in making sure a child-abusing, wife-beating sonuvabitch goes to jail so his family doesn't have to live in fear anymore, and as much miracle in helping convince the mother in that family that the little boy in question should have a puppy. I see change for the better everywhere, and try to make change for the better everywhere I go. So wherever I look, there it is - the world being a little brighter. Though I guess that means that it's darker for someone else, but hopefully those are the ones who deserve a bit more darkness in their lives."

[Thomas Black] He smirks "We each 'ave our beliefs but wat keeps me goin' is am gonna see the end. That's it, to see it 'appen otherwise wat is the point." He smiles, he wasn't here to convert and certainly did not expect Molly to see the Hollowness. "Am not 'ere to stop yer dreams, am not 'ere to tarnish them, keep on goin, keep on truckin'" He gestures to the red wagon. "I ain't 'ere to convert, you asked me a question an I was 'onest with it instead of ignorin' it, am in a robin mood wat can I say?" He spreads his arms. "You don't 'ave to justify wat ya do, I know you do robin, that you do wat you can for people, I might not like yer gob or fear for me secrets." He leans forward "But yer a robin soul Info, I know you are, a rare light in this world an 'ave never said otherwise." Honest, truthful.

Silence descends, this conversation brings the kind of quiet that is awkward, that is empty that reminds Thomas why he shouldn't be happy and it shows. The smile fades, his demure grows darker an avatar of he who reaps if nothing else that blueness of his eyes becomes shallow. "I don't need you to believe or understand like you don't need me too, if I could dream I would dream I was pete and you were isle, but I can't ignore me soul, me instinct. This why am hollow an yer full, tis why yer searchin' an am consumin'." He laughs as he stands and moves over to get himself another beer.

[Molly Quincannon] The first thing she says is something that might not make much sense to Thomas: "Follow the white rabbit for as far as it goes. When you can no longer see the rabbit, you go on alone." She grins a little and finishes whatever quote (because she's surely quoting something; it sure as hell isn't coming off the top of her head). "True story, bro." With a chuckle, she doesn't quite explain it, but she maybe comes close. "Maybe you don't need me to understand, but I need to. I want to. There's a whole universe out there beyond my perceptions, and the more I understand of other points of view, the more I know. Everything I know just makes things clearer." Maybe this explains the new note to her - the Searching. Maybe it doesn't. Either way, there it is.

She gets up off the crawly-gator, all engine grease and tattoos and mussed by honest hard work, and moves to the cooler herself, grabbing a beer this time instead of a cola. "There's room in this world for all viewpoints, and I'd never want to take your instincts or worldview away from you. It's the difference in people that makes the world go 'round. When I explain these things? I admit that it's at least in part for myself. Viewpoints so different from my own challenge me. I like to be challenged, is all. So don't think I'm getting all up in your business or anything, or trying to be an advocate or a preacher. Cyber-prophet I may be, but at the end of the day, I'm not here to convert either. Just ... running my gob, as usual."

She doesn't talk about the secrets she's keeping. There are a few. But to point out that she's keeping them at all would come too close to giving them away, so she lets them go by opening her beer. "And I'm by no means full yet. In my own way, I consume as much as you do. Well, I intake is the better way. I had a taste of voraciousness, with that Sending thing, and I guess that's right. I just ... well, it's less black hole or growling stomach than ... Atlas or me or you in a junkyard. Poking through what's there, inventorying, taking away what could still work and building on what's already been scavenged. And the result?" She gestures to the Imperial, half-done, behind her; a game show hostess showing off the brand new car. "Well, if I'm lucky, it's making something beautiful and powerful and useful out of what other people gave me. So any point of view, even if it's different than mine - especially when it's different than mine - is like ... well, like finding a thing like that." She points at the bumper still sitting on top of the scrap in her little red wagon. "So thanks. For your honesty. I do appreciate it, you know."

She does, it's clear. Whether or not Molly is capable of keeping a secret, one thing she never hides is when she's grateful for something.

[Thomas Black] It doesn't make sense, Alice in wonderland springs to mind, but it is most likely far from the truth. Thomas understands as well there is room for many views, but he doesn't say it to be challenged, he wants to understand the others but in a different way he is certain in that unshakable faith that the world is dying. If he didn't believe that he would not be a hollow one. He takes out a beer and pats Molly on the shoulder as he walks back over to his crate. He watches Molly show off her car and he does smile faintly.

"You want to know, to understand pet, it cums outta yer pores, no 'arm no foul." She says she consumes like him and that makes his head turn, doubt to come to his face, his jaw tenses but in the spirit of the meeting, in the happiness he had he doesn't push it, he doesn't take it down that path and lets it wander past him. He holds up his beer "Any lemon you want a depressing sermon on Armageddon am yer man." He uses his belt buckle to break off the bottle cap and has a large gulp as he looks back at her, that grateful look.

"Yer welcome."

[Molly Quincannon] Molly grins about the 'depressing sermon on Armageddon', saying, "I'll take you up on that someday. For the moment, though, I've got homemade pizza and I need a break, and it's lunchtime. Hence the beer. So let me wash my hands and maybe share pizza with me? You can dig through the scrap I picked up but couldn't use in the end, see if there's anything you can use." She points to a pile of scrap metal in the corner. "Might save you a dig around in the hot sun anyway."

Whether Thomas takes her up on offer of pizza and scrap dig-around or not, it's there. If he does, it's casual conversation about more or less nothing until Thomas is full, bored or both. If he doesn't ... well, at least there's been beer and half-naked tattooed chick covered in engine oil and sweat, which seems to make for a good day in Thomas' world. We take what we can get.