1931/Mongolia Or Bust

Mongolia Or Bust
Date of Scene:	11 August 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Molly Millions, Blink

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Molly Millions has posed:
Time is sometimes relative. It's probably early in the morning New York time, so dark in Genosha, and in Mongolia..? Well, Molly's chronometer is currently on the fritz so she's not entirely sure. The room she's in, dark and relatively featureless, bar for a hospital bed with a 'trauma blanket' on it, the remnants of one of Molly's tops that look like it had a fight with a pair of scissors... and lost. Oh... and blood. Yeh. Can't forget that.

The cyborg herself is by comparison, relatively clean. Granted, much of that is owing to Lucy's nanites and their busy work endeavoring to repair her systems, but there's still a crease in her skull where bone fragments and metal are visible, and she's wearing a white tee that's about ten times too big for her.. and her pants. There's holes. And blood. For all that the meat underneath is largely intact again. And once her telecommunications are back 'online' Molly's code glitch of a 'number' dials a Blink.

Blink has posed:
The nights are often when Blink gets to go out and see her friends. But at that point the young mutant was well abed so that she would be fully rested for the coming race! She'd already picked out clothes the night before, which sit on her small dresser along with the tickets.

As usual, the teens phone is never far away so that when it starts ringing, the chirpy ringtone drags her out of slumber. A pinky-purple hand bats at the side, the room being bathed in muted green as her glowing eyes open. Grabbed and stabbed with her thumb, the small electronic device is jammed against elfin ear.

"Mmmrgh. This had better be important..." She slurrs into the phone around a yawn which she doesn't bother to cover. "Who'sis?"

Molly Millions has posed:
"Well, in about twelve hours I'm supposed to be driving a car in Death Valley... except for one /slight/ problem." Molly doesn't care about talking aloud for once. There's no-one in the underground complex to even hear her, of that she's one hundred percent sure,"I'm in Mongolia. So I was hoping you might pick me up so I don't spend most of that time on a plane." the cyborg's voice offers with all the wry dryness she can manage. Rising to her feet she paces over to the lamp to flick it on, curling her lip at the mess and endeavoring not to give into the desire to throw a few things, just for good measure.

Blink has posed:
"Mmf. Mols?" Clarice's brain starts to kick in. If Molly's calling her, then it's likely to be a bit more than just 'I'm running late'. "Wait, did you say /Mongolia/?" She shifts in the bed, pushing herself up with long toned legs until she's sitting against the bed rest.

Dressed in a green satin strappy top and short shorts pajama combo, she's hardly in the right state to go galavanting off around the world. But what she says is;

"I need pictures, start taking them. And then send them to me." It's a rather matter of fact tone, and perhaps a little more abrupt than normal. But her sleep's been disturbed, and anyone can go a bit grumpy at that.

Molly Millions has posed:
"That's what my GPS tells me." Molly drawls,"Haven't bothered to find a window to confirm." but with the request for pictures, Molly provides. At least between the bloody remnants of her top and the hospital bed there's some kind of uniqueness to the otherwise featureless grey bunker room. It's entirely probable that Molly doesn't even notice the tone right now under the circumstances. Or maybe she's just annoyed enough herself that she's not going to object to the young mutant being displeased by the sudden request. The photos are sent off before she circles back to squat again with all the patience she can muster. Which, granted, isn't exactly a lot right now.

Blink has posed:
Blink's first move is to head to the loo, relieving herself whilst she waits for the pictures to come through. Thanks to Genosha's less than great service, she also has time to set a pot of coffee on before she has enough to go on. Underground, inside. It's like no one really understands how much damage she can do.

Even through the sleepy grumps, Clarice can tell she's being a bit harsh though. Likliness is that Molly didn't have much choice in being where she is right now, considering all the talk of 'not using her like a thing', at least she can take pride that /she/ was the one called on for help. Maybe.

Another yawn and she slowly raises her hand, ready to stop if it looks like she's too off. The portal opens as her hand lowers, to show a black room. Not there... So begins the slow process of zero'ing in on her friend. Eight or nine portals later (and one beam that wasn't going to support anything anymore), the warm yellow light of her room's lamps spill over Molly and her bed. "Going my way Mols?" She offers, jerking a thumb towards the coffee pot.

Molly Millions has posed:
Serve's the architect right. Let him suck on THAT one. The smile that Molly gives at the accidental damage caused cannot be described as 'nice' by any measure, for all that the cyborg offers a muted,"Thanks." as she steps through and pauses to let her systems have their schizophrenic moment trying to find satellite's to latch onto in the new location. It takes gritting her teeth, because the one's still showing an ugly orange on the inside of her lense are none too happy about having to compensate, but finally she sighs in something akin to relief,"Coffee would be fantastic." there's not even a glance backwards for the room left behind, naught but an irritated sniff as any form of acknowledgment for it.

Blink has posed:
"I could collapse it, with enough time." Clarice comments about the bunker, though she doesn't keep the portal open. She knows where it is now at any rate, maybe she'll go explore it another time. A time when Molly doesn't look /quite/ so dead on her feet.

Apparently unconcerned about her state of dress she makes her way into the tiny kitchenette to pour two mugs of coffee. "Do you take anything in it?" A beat. "And do I get to ask what happened? Or is it all secrecy and daggers?" For herself she grabs thick cream and sugar, a fair amount of both before taking a mouthful and swallowing with a sigh.

Molly Millions has posed:
"While there's a part of me that would love to witness that... not worth the effort." Molly grunts quietly, she's been to Blink's place enough times to know where to find the bathroom and pads off to at least wash the blood out of her hair,"Black like my soul, sweetheart." the pause that follows the question perhaps distinct for the silence and the way she's staring in the mirror for a long moment before she sighs,"No, just a man being a jackass." is the answer she opts for, carefully wiping her hands dry once she's satisfied she's not going to leave blood on the young mutants towels.

Blink has posed:
"Feel free to jump in the shower." Blink calls as Molly dissapears into the bathroom to do what she's got to do. Blood isn't something the teen's worried about. She gets enough cuts and scrapes during training, when she doesn't do more damage through trying to do too much.

"Just a man?" She shakes her head, the older woman had always seemed so worldly wise. That she'd let a man get her into trouble just didn't fit with the girl's idea of the cyborg. There was more, but the older woman would tell, or not, in her own time.

"Sooo, I'm guessing you're gonna want me to send you back off to the race pretty soon too..." She takes a moment, letting that sit there, before (with a languid one armed stretch) she adds; "I'm feeling a bit 'objecty', maybe I'll do it later..." The grin on her face is plain in her voice as well.

Molly Millions has posed:
"I can shower when I get to Death Valley, gonna need to change anyways." Molly grunts as she emerges from the bathroom in order to go get a coffee. Waiting until she's got some of it in her is deliberate,"Not just a man." she elects to agree, leaning up against the counter with a faint smile,"I have a whole suite. With room service. That I don't have to pay for." she instead elects to offer in way of bribe,"Or is this the part where you strong-arm me for answers?" there's a wry smile, but there's still an edge of tired to it.

Blink has posed:
"Not answers..." Clarice admits with a smile. "I know better than to pry into things like that. I'll only worry about you /more/ after I'm sure..." At least she's feeling more like herself with half of the mug of coffee already inside her. The young mutant stays leaning against the kitchen side.

"This is where I get you to admit that if I /offer/ a quick trip, that you're gonna take me up on it." Her grin turns to a more genuine, concerned smile. "I love having you in my room in the middle of the night as much as the next girl, but it'd be nice for it not to always be a dire matter when you call..." There's just a /hint/ of reproach, but she's not being petulant about it. She's /not/!

Molly Millions has posed:
"That was..." Molly purses her lips and expels a breath, unable to help frowning into the coffee as if it's somehow betrayed her and setting it down on the counter,"Let me send you some pictures. Right now I want vodka. A lot, of vodka." screw the coffee.

"I had to be seen travelling with the rest of the team. Most of them don't know I'm anything other than perfectly ordinary human. Being perceived as perfectly ordinary human makes people pay less attention to who I am and what I'm doing because whether they like or hate the different, they're at least interesting enough to pay attention to." the phone starts to ping with the new set of pictures, of the lavish suite that being part of Team Stark's got her for a day or two,"And it... wasn't a dire matter. No-one was going to kill or arrest me, but if that asshole thought I was going to..." yeh, maybe she's a little more worked up than her attempt at a calm exterior displays, but she clamps her mouth shut and pushes a hand through her hair,"Please?" she elects to go with instead.

Blink has posed:
It's the 'please' that does it. For all Clarice wants to be the badass portaller that the Brotherhood might want her to be, inside she's still a young woman worried about her friend. "Oh... /Fiiiine/." It's said with a rush of breath, half sigh, half word. The pictures this time are much clearer, (and besides which, she'd already popped into the Valley earlier to make sure she /could/).

A flick of the wrist and there's a high level view of the complex. From pictures to potal and back, the teen works out where she's going (perhaps getting a few more pointers from Molly at the same time). A -Blink!- shows a second window, this one into the cyborgs apartment. She was definitely getting better at this.

"Here you go... All the vodka you could ever want." She offers, gesturing through the glowing doorway. It's clear by the way she's still leaning agianst the sideboard that she doesn't think she's been invited.

Molly Millions has posed:
Molly gives a nod in the direction of the portal,"Believe me, that's not even half the vodka I'd like to have. C'mon then." the other reason why she doesn't like being teleported long distances is the effect on her systems, shuddering like a horse after she steps through,"You can have the bed. I doubt I'm going to sleep much tonight." she offers from the other side of it. She's got no qualms about pulling off that tee and heading for the shower. Someone, at least, attempted to stitch her back together... literally even, for all that the nanites are no doubt going to use them for raw materials when they get around to the superficial work.

Blink has posed:
"Wait, what?" But Molly's already well towards the shower, and pulling her top off! The teen quickly types out a few texts, one to Mister Creed, another to a friend whom she'd been planning on going with. Before grabbing her clothes and tickets from the stand.

After a moment's thought, her toothbrush is added to the small bundle. Along with a phone charger and a bag of potato chips to munch. And then she's skipping over the rim of her portal and into... A palace? Wide eyed and wondering the young mutant's eyes are as round as dinner plates. "You get all this... To /yourself/!?" She calls out, loud enough to be heard over running water. "It's /incredible/!"

Molly Millions has posed:
"Driver needs their sleep." Molly grunts, for all that she just got through saying she doubts she'll sleep much. The shower isn't even about relaxation, it's just about getting the worst of the blood off of her skin, for all that it no doubt robs the nanites of some raw materials in the process. Emerging in a big fluffy hotel dressing gown,"Honestly I think it's just to watch his assistant cringe at the cost and get the press to talk about just how much dough he dropped on this whole thing. Still can't decide if it's his equivalent of camouflage or he's really just that... priviledged." and from the roll of her shoulders, she's not inclined to ask too much, either. Vodka's necessary. And although there's no doubt some in the damned expensive fridge, she snags a bottle left on the counter that likely isn't chic enough to even be acknowledged by the place, nodding in the direction of the windows as she elects to prowl over to the settee and drop herself onto it.

"I wasn't planning on any side trips. I was going to call up you and Lucy earlier so you could enjoy the suite and get some shopping in... but I got... sidetracked." she grimaces.

Blink has posed:
"Who's /he/?" Clarice has to ask. Surely she can't mean /the/ Tony Stark? Though Molly's commented on it more than once. But the teen had never been able to pin down a /name/. "Or is that the same 'he' that got you in that bunker?" Now that it's obvious that she's welcome, she helps herself to an OJ from the fridge, plonking down on the settee near the growly woman.

"Side tracked? Is that what we're calling that sort of work nowadays?" She settles in, wiggling until her butt's comfy, and then kicking her legs out to rest them on a low (and probably very expensive) glass table. Her bare feet cross at the ankle as she asks with affected non-chalance; "Who's Sally Shears?" Her interrogation training was paying off!

Molly Millions has posed:
"Stark." Molly clarify's regarding the first, and makes the mistake of taking a swig of the vodka before Blink asks the second question, which just about makes her breathe fire in the effort to not actually inhale the vodka,"No!" she splutters,"Hell no. Not even." ow. That hurt. She presses the heel of her free hand to her chest to massage away the burning sensation with a grimace.

"Sure." she drawls, tossing the remote Blink's way and pulling her bare feet up onto the settee,"Me." ask an obvious question, get an obvious answer. No demuring on that one.

Blink has posed:
The mutant snatches the remote from the air easily, turning the large 60" Ultra HD Thingamabob TV, before she starts flicking through the channels, apparently not finding anything that holds her fancy yet.

"So if you're Sally, and you're also Molly..." She frowns a little, puzzling through it. Sean Connery comes on, Thunderball. Awesome. The clicking stops, though she keeps the volume low. No point being rude. "So who /was/ she then? Or does everyone have lots of names in the future? Like email addresses now."

Molly Millions has posed:
"Your question presupposes that Sally is any more... real... than Molly is." the cyborg tilts her head at the movie and elects to take another swig of her vodka,"No. Most people have one SIN." which is one of those not-really an answer things, and although it might seem for a long moment like she's going to leave it at that she elects to add,"I was born SINless. Molly. Sally. Misty. It doesn't make a difference. They're all just names." She cradles the vodka in her lap, letting her head fall back against the couch for the moment with a sigh.

Blink has posed:
"Seemed worth a shot..." Clarice opines with a sheepish grin. "You're pretty much a mystery Mols. You're all 'shadows and slippery' when it comes to answers. You'd give Mystique a run for her money I'm sure." It's not accusatory, if anything the teen seems amused. "It's a world of secrets, and you're a shiney one right here. Got to start practicing somewhere..." Because sometimes to be ignorant, is to be dead.

She eyes the bottle, looks down at her OJ and then back to the bottle. What was that comment about never drinking alone? Something something legal drinking age in quite a few countries? Or was that just her... She wiggles her OJ at the vodka bottle. "Care to share?"

Molly Millions has posed:
"Just means you're not asking the right questions or you're too young for the answers. Five questions." Molly states as she extends the bottle Blink's way. What does she care about legal drinking age's? Not a lot, apparently,"Fair enough? But only five." she straightens her head out again so she can take another look at this 'Thunderball',"...is that really what women consider /attractive/ these days?" she can't help but ask with a faint air of horror.

Blink has posed:
Blink giggles. "This was released /aaages/ ago." The teen manages to make the world sound like an eternity as she snags the cheap looking vodka. "Like, the /seventies/ or something. He's /really/ old now. Like in his eighties I think." Because anything over 30 was old to the young teen. And even late 20's were pushing it!

"Five questions?" She pauses, then waves a hand quickly. "That wasn't one of them!" A swig of the vodka has the teen doing her best not to cough. Through a strained throat she manages; "Mighty smooth..."

Molly Millions has posed:
"95." Molly grunts,"At least according to this... website... born 25th August, nineteen-thirty. Almost his birthday. I'm... people in the nineteen-seventies had no taste." she opines, laughing as she extends her hand for the bottle back,"No, that doesn't count... and it's not, that's... the point. Granted... I could drink the whole thing and mostly it would just piss off the nanites." there's a stiff kind of a shrug before she elects to pick up a tablet from the coffee table, popping the microSD card out of it so she can slot it into the back of her skull,"Questions for clarity also wont count."

Blink has posed:
"Alright, well then I think I should get at least one rule in this trade." She wiggles her fingers. "Because it /is/ a trade... Even if I've already given my half. There's nothing I'm 'too young' to hear. I'm fed up of that. I'm nearly /nineteen/ for crying out loud!" Her cheeks are a little flushed, either with indignation or a whole mouthful of vodka start to work it's way down her limbs, making her fingertips tingly...

"And so... First question." To her credit, Blink doesn't just rush ahead, instead waiting to think it out. "You said something like... 'Flesh doll'? Or something. What did you mean by that?"

Molly Millions has posed:
Molly snorts at Blink's insistence that she's 'so old', snagging the bottle for another swig and not electing to answer that, one way or another. But Blink's asked her first, and there's a dip of her head, her free hand coming to rest roughly on the dent in her head that's still only slowly going away,"Flesh doll?" she repeats with vague puzzlement,"...Meat puppet." see, she hasn't drowned all her brain cells yet,"A meat puppet sells their body to other people. Mostly for sex." is the candid answer on that one, there's no embarressment in her for that answer, no shame about it. A finger held up as she offers the bottle back.

Blink has posed:
Clarice takes it, this time sensibly pouring some into her OJ bottle, giving it a swirl and handing the neat spirit back. "I've gotta be a bit careful..." She explains; "Drink too much and..." She mimes the move she uses to open portals. "All over the damn place..."

She takes the answer of what a Meat Puppet is with equanimity. "Oh, so it's kinda like being a street walker? Nothing wrong with that, so long as it's your choice." Because, everyone needs to make a living, with whatever skills they've got.

"Alright, number two..." She needs to make these count. If Molly realises that each save means more questions, she might not call on Clarice next time. "You knew it was coming, what happened to you tonight?"

Molly Millions has posed:
"Slight difference." Molly grunts,"A meat puppet has a rig installed." she tips her head forward to touch the base of her skull,"That allows someone else to pilot their body while they are unconscious." there's no extra finger held up, so apparently that falls under the clarification category. From the fact she doesn't reach for the bottle apparently the cyborg feels she's at least mature enough to know when to stop drinking.

The faint smile that crosses Molly's face is a dead giveaway that she expected that one, yes,"That, is a two part question. You want both sides, it will cost you two. Or you can choose... why I was injured, or how I ended up in Mongolia." separate things, at least as far as she's concerned.

Blink has posed:
"Wouldn't the question of how you got hurt, include how you got there as a clarification?" She's quick, which is surprising considering the hour of night. The coffee must be kicking in. Or the vodka. Or both?

Shifting on her seat, she takes a small sip from her bottle before relenting. "Fine, let's start with why you got hurt /clarifying/ who patched you up too." A beat. "/Then/ if I want to know how you got there in the first place I'll ask."

Molly Millions has posed:
Molly tschs,"Nope, still two different stories." she collects the bottle back again,"The people who made Lucy the way she is want the technology back. We've been... working on ways to discourage them permanently. I got word that people associated with the corporation had a place set up." she takes a swig of the vodka,"Last time... Lucy was close enough to... have an episode. So I went to deal with it myself. Unfortunately... they were more prepared for me than I was for them." she taps absently at the crease in the side of her head,"And while I might have called you sooner, this one caused enough damage that my communications were offline for a while."

Blink has posed:
"So the people Lucy's Mum works, or worked for are trying to get Lucy back. Suppose that's not surprising if her implant is the only working prototype." Not a question, but a statement. Clarice had had that conversation with Lucy. Where she'd gotten her nanites from. The name of the company though... "Clarification then then, what's the name of the company or organisation that's coming after Lucy?" If there were a brief flare to her eyes, well she didn't want them after Lucy any more than Molly did.

Molly Millions has posed:
"Worked. She's dead." Molly offers quietly, there's debate there before she concedes with a grimace that she did agree to answer questions,"They wont be able to get near her on the island, not without tipping off Magneto. It's... one of the reasons she's safer there than New York."

Blink has posed:
"That and I can get her on the other side of the globe in seconds." The teen grins impishly, enjoying the slight buzz the alcohol was making in her limbs. She slides down the settee a little, turning languid.

"So... Reason you'd be in mongolia would be because you had a lead to these people. But it didn't go as planned." She's musing realy, head tilted away. But one advantage of not having pupils, no one can tell when you're looking to the side...

Molly Millions has posed:
There is that to it, Molly concedes with a silent inclination of her head and a smile. And it was a good try, but Molly holds up finger #3 anyways, the slight smile that crossed her face rapidly fading as she takes a more serious drink of the vodka this time before cradling the vodka between her knee's with a sigh. Apparently people trying to kill her is the easier element to talk about. She stares at the bottle for a long moment and smoothes her thumb over the label,"I called War." she finally elects to offer in a soft tone,"I called War, and He came." more vodka's required in there for some reason,"That place... is His. I don't recommend you go back there."

Blink has posed:
"You called 'War'? Like with a capital W?" There's definitely a note of disbelief in her voice at that. But still, stranger things had happened in her life time. Genosha had overthrown the Government for one. "Okay, so that's three..."

The room starts to feel a little... softer as half the OJ with it's sharper mixer takes a stronger grip of her. Still, her smile is easy, nothing so far having apparently penetrated that inebriation. "So four... And let's make this a good one." She pauses, another scrap of teaching coming back to her... 'go fer the unexpected'... The mutant looks up; "How do you see me?"

Molly Millions has posed:
Molly gives a bob of her head, her free hand rubbing the back of her neck with a sigh,"Yes. With a capital W." she confirms. Which doesn't cover how she ended stuck out there, but she's apparently entirely content to leave that particular issue /entirely/ alone.

Question four, by comparison, is a much less uncomfortable one for Molly,"You are my friend. One of my closest... despite your youth." pause,"Or did you mean... technologically?" there's a tilt of her head as she isn't entirely sure if she's being metaphorical when the question might be intended as literal.

Blink has posed:
"I guess I meant... Like, what words would associate with me. Child or woman, that sort of thing." It sounded kinda lame when it was spelt out like that. "S'okay, not as interesting a question as I thought." She decides to move on instead.

"Okay I'll bite, why were you in Mongolia, in a bunker?" She'd not been going to ask that, but once the young woman's mouth was open it just seemed to run off with itself. But there it was, out there as the elephant in the room.

Molly Millions has posed:
Molly ahs,"You're a young woman." she gives a quiet laugh,"I know you're not a child... but you're still... I'm just getting old Clarice. People like you and Lucy... here? Your choices are better than mine were at your age. What you choose to do with your lives is up to no-one but you. I'd just rather you be prepared for the consequences of some of those decisions." there's a small shrug.

Then a grunt,"That still counts as part of question three." which makes it harder,"War pulled me out. But my... systems, don't like it when they have to compensate for large differences in position. And with the damage the nanites activated my rig. So I wasn't... able to tell him that the machines had it under control."

Blink has posed:
"So he tried to help, and it didn't go well?" She pauses, adds; "Thats clarification, not a new question." Just to make sure that she's not losing out on another question because this one seemed so... Odd. War? "And War as in... That's got to be a superhero name right?" Because who really called themselves /war/?

Another mouthful of her OJ and cheap vodka has the young mutant nicely mellowed out, sure her brain not work quite as quickly as it was, but damn it was good to just relax a bit...

Molly Millions has posed:
So far out into the woods of Molly'd discomfort. There's the restlessness in the way she actually /fidgets/, practically squirms on the couch with her lips pressed together, this is not a thing she wants to think about particularly, and certainly doesn't want to discuss. And that's maybe why it takes even more vodka before she bows down to her own promise,"It finally sank into him that I'm mortal... and some day, I will die." she clears her throat,"Ares. God of." three words, so many unspoken volumes left unsaid between them, the alcohol beginning to show it's toll in the way she leans her elbow on the arm of the couch and settles her head on it with a heavy sigh, the drum of her fingers on the bottle decidedly of the twitchy variety.

Blink has posed:
One thing she's never seen Molly is twitchy. Maybe it's the alcohol, but maybe it's the line of questioning too. Clarice tries to move her brain to work at the problem, piecing together various bits and pieces. It's slow going, and they've sat in silence for a good minute or two before purple lips part to ask the next, and final question;

"Ares, God of War. Pulled you out of danger when you were hurt..." Perhaps speaking it aloud will help her reason it out better? "And you don't want to talk about it... And that's an odd word... /finally/ sank in, like you know him well. But you were angry at someone, no at him, when I found you..." Her jaw drops open as she just /stares/ at the other woman.

Molly Millions has posed:
"I don't want to talk about it." Molly agree's with vehemence. She makes the mistake of looking over, and nope, suddenly she has to get to her feet in that fluffy bathrobe and prowl towards the window because that so makes things better. And damnit, there's just a swallow left in the bottle, hmph. For a second there it might seem like she's going to just throw the bottle but she does force herself to set it down politely as she gods to slink behind the curtain like a cat. Because she's totally just watching the view, and not at all hiding. And no-one had best say otherwise.

Blink has posed:
Clarice watches the show with a bemused look on her face, even after she finally manages to close her mouth. "Oh my god... You /are/... Or were, or whatever." She shakes her head, magenta hair shifting over her shoulders as she does. After a moment, the mutant checks; "You realise I've got one more question right?" Something tells her though, that asking what she /really/ wants to, would likely hurt whatever friendship she has with the woman.

Moving to the cabinet with all it's top shelf stuff, Clarice selects the bottle of triple distilled, poured by virgins and blessed by the Holy Father Himself vodka (or at least, the price label means it had /better/ been through all those steps) before padding on bare feet over to the curtain. Pushing her arm behind it, and wiggling the bottle near where she assumes Molly is she asks; "Fancy a drink?"

Molly Millions has posed:
Abject silence from the cyborg. Granted, Molly's hearing is more acute than most humans, there's no doubt she heard, even if she's pretending to be deaf, dumb and blind right now. There's at least a gesture that acknowledges that she still has a question left, a flutter of the curtain as she leans up against the window frame and stares out at the city with her arms folded. And then, there's the /really/ good vodka being waved at her, and apparently this is sufficient tribute to judge from the way that she curls a hand about the bottle to crack it open, hell, if the boss complains... she can cover it. More vodka is definitely desirable right now.

"Ask." is the word given, for all that she's perfectly content to hide in her curtain for the moment.

Blink has posed:
"I just did... I asked if you wanted a drink." Clarice says blithly, walking away from the curtain. "Just remember, I'm here if you /need/ to talk, and I'm pretty good at keeping other people's secrets." Just not her own it seems. Which probably speaks volumes about her sense of self, but that's not something she's going to dwell on. Not now, not ever.

"Come on out Molly, I'm not going to grill you anymore. That's private stuff, and it's yours. If you want to share sometime, I'm here for you y'know?" Another look through the cabinet and she finds what she's after, brandy. The bottle is pulled from the cabinet, a quick look is given towards the curtain but a shrug and a quick -Blink!- has the top neatly sliced off. Stupid corks.

Molly Millions has posed:
"Doesn't count." Molly grunts from her spot,"And there's nothing to share. Everything's fine." of course, that's why she's hidi.. erm... standing sentinel in the window, absolutely. There's another swig taken from the bottle before she elects to add,"I told him to fuck off. He told me to walk." maturity, thy name is Molly. There's at least some movement from the curtain, but she's not about to tell Blink she can't drink what she damn well pleases. Not like she knows the US alcohol laws... or would care if she did.

Blink has posed:
"And now you're hurting." It's not a question, but a statement as Clarice makes her way not behind Molly's curtain, but the window next to it. It allows them at least to talk without Molly feeling like her space is being invaded again.

"Sounds like you had an argument." Again, not a question, she's being very careful of that. "Can't be easy, finding someone you like in a strange place, then having them up and go all wierd on you." Again, she's careful to keep her tone neutral, she doesn't want any of this being construed as her question. But only because she doesn't want Molly answering it for that. "I'm sorry." She ponders a moment, and then a smile graces the teen's lips; "What was your original name?"

Molly Millions has posed:
"Maybe." Molly concedes,"And it's not... like that. Wasn't. Rule number one's never get the heart involved in that shit." there's a small gesture, the sliver of her lenses where she glances from her spot of relative privacy... or at least the illusion thereof. But the question asked manages to elicit a hoarse kind of laugh, and then a longer pause,"Rose." she says at last,"Rose Kolodny. But I haven't... used that name in about twenty years. This is some really good vodka, by the way."

Blink has posed:
"I'll take your word about the vodka." Clarice opines, pouring the brandy past the sharp edge of the glass into her mouth. After she swallows, there's a shiver of pleasure that runs up the teen's spine. "This brandy's not bad either... Think they'll mind if I take it home with me?" She grins softly, it's an easier topic for the moment. And she doesn't like seeing (or in this case) hearing her friend in pain.

"You can't always tell the heart what to do though. And even if it's not /like that/, he pissed you off something crazy. No one you don't at least respect can do that." She's too wise for her age really, but then, some lives will do that to you. "Just in case it needs to be said, I'm not going to tell anyone. Not about the bunker, you being hurt, /him/ or anything." Just in case it wasn't obvious she means, but another swig of the burning liquid down her throat stops any further clarification. She is /definitely/ starting to feel it now... A hand goes to the rail, steadying herself.

Molly Millions has posed:
"Brandy. Not my thing. But you enjoy it... just remember what you said about moderation earlier." Molly grunts quietly and offers a tight kind of smile,"Thank you." she passes a hand through her hair, watching the younger woman with distant concern at her current state, for all that she's not 'mommy' enough to stop the young mutant from doing what she wants,"Told you I don't need any blind dates. I've got enough companionship when I want that sort of thing... even without him." she pushes aside the curtain to slink back into the room as she caps the vodka, adding as she does so,"I should spend at least some time with the track layouts for tomorrow. And you should probably get some sleep."

Blink has posed:
"I'm fiiine..." Blink offers, cheeks flushed. Dropping the bottle over the edge, a small -Blink!- opens a tear beneath through which the thousand dollar bottle of booze falls, her other hand out to catch it...

But it never appears where her hand is. She looks up, right, left... And then SMASH! Brandy makes it's new home on the pavement below. Where her second portal sits some ten feet in the air... Directly beneath the other. "Well /crap/..." Turning she too heads back into the room, her grin looking sheepish. "Maybe you're right..."