Molly

[redintheledger]

Natasha is not kicking leaves.

Nope.

There are no autumn leave piles that are being kicked by any kind of stompy boot. Certainly not the kind of steel-tipped stompy boots that see action or a risk of falling planks of wood. Maybe the latter. Certainly not the former.

And she's certainly not having fun.

Comments

[cute_bruiser]

Fun? Clearly, this 'fun' is a totally alien concept to both of them.

Molly is wearing skinny jeans tucked into her favourite pink biker boots, and a battered leather jacket over a pink 'WHO YA GONNA CALL?' t-shirt. Her hair is loose, flying in the breeze like a kite, and pink-tinted gauntlrts are glinting on her forearms.

Theoretically she's out here seeing if exercise can acclimatise her to the weight of the gauntlets even without her powers; actually, she's turning cartwheels in the leaves.

Why? Because reasons.

[redintheledger]

"Nice gauntlets!"

She's somewhat curious as to what they do. And, just possibly, smoothing down an urge to do her own cartwheels.

[cute_bruiser]

"Thanks!"

Molly turns her last flip and bounces to her feet, grinning at Natasha as she dusts leaves and dirt from her hand.

"Our techie made them from bits of robot. They're new."

The gauntlets, not the techie.

[redintheledger]

"Bits of robot?"

Interesting.

"What do they do?"

[cute_bruiser]

"Remember the oversized killer hand I dragged in before? One of those."

Except, you know, the whole thing. Or bits of it.

"It was scrap metal anyway, so..."

As robots generally are, after Molly meets them.

She grins, making a sharp flicking movement with her right wrist; the gauntlet pops out at the sides, extra metal sliding out from where it's been sheathed, until after a few seconds she has a round shield about the diameter of her forearm, attached at her wrist and elbow.

"We're still working on the mechanism. But it's a pretty cool start."

[redintheledger]

From her sudden smile, Natasha approves.

"Now that's very cool."

[cute_bruiser]

Molly laughs. "I told Angie so, but she's still telling anyone who'll listen that it's rubbish and needs a lot more work. All I know is, I am way too string-bean to be a human shield without it."

She sounds a little rueful.

[redintheledger]

"Can't you move very fast instead?"

She might be joking.

She might not.

Who knows.

(Certainly not the woman who has never actually admitted to being anything in particular.)

[cute_bruiser]

She smiles crookedly.

"I'm more The Smash than The Flash, sadly."

[redintheledger]

"Smashes can happen quickly."





She's still confused as to why people have to chose. BOTH. Both is good.

[cute_bruiser]

"Well, I'm pretty quick, but I'm ordinary human-quick. No superspeed."

Blame genetics, Nat!

"Could be worse, though, 'cause my parents were both psychics."

She'll pass.

[redintheledger]

Blink.

"Inheritablity seems to be a wildcard in your world."

[cute_bruiser]

Molly flicks her hand again, though she has to do it twice before the shield slides fully closed around her arm; still, it's a gesture of 'eh, well...'.

"Depends on your definition of inheritability. It's not difficult to map the likelihood of the mutant gene getting passed on, but what powers that switches on are pretty idiosyncratic. It's a bit like personality - you might get bits from your parents, or you might be like neither. My mom and dad both had the glowy pink eyes like me, though."

[redintheledger]

Entertained,

"I don't even the geneticists trying to work that one out."

[cute_bruiser]

Molly laughs. "You ever run into a version of Hank McCoy round here, buy him a drink. He's our resident geneticist, with the headache to match."

Also: blue and fuzzy. But hey, details.

[redintheledger]

"Maybe I will."

Hey, connections.

"How is the robot situation in your world going?"

[cute_bruiser]

Lightly, "Sort of... shiny and metallic. Less scrap-metally than I'd like, but I'm working on that."

Girl smash. Etc.

"Is that something your world goes in for, then? Robots, I mean, not scrap metal.

[redintheledger]

"Sometimes. We have a few mad genius types.

Not common, though."

[cute_bruiser]

Molly's sigh is heartfelt and more than a little reminiscent of an office admin hearing of a world containing no paperwork.

"Lucky you."

[redintheledger]

Her mouth twitches.

"I feel the need to add 'so far'. We might not be so lucky after all."

[cute_bruiser]

"Fair point."

Molly's eyes flicker.

"In that case, I'll note that if anyone ever mentions Sentinels, shut them down. With considerable prejudice."

Because Nadine is totally in a position to do that, as an office worker with a taste in really nice outfits. Totally.

[redintheledger]

"I'll keep this in mind while reading the newspaper and geek sites," she says, risking a brief and amused I know what you're doing glance at Molly.

[cute_bruiser]

Serenely, "I have faith in your ability to multi-task."

[redintheledger]

"An internet campaign to shut down any evil robots could be fun," she muses. "Except then I'd have to persuade people on why evil robots are actually bad."

[cute_bruiser]

"Emphasise the 'evil' bit," Molly suggests cheerily.

"Tell them they'll outlaw cat macros."

Surely there is no greater crime.

[redintheledger]

She laughs.

"Now that might work."

[cute_bruiser]

"You've just gotta know how to talk to them," Molly tells her blithely.

She glances down. "Nice boots, by the way."

[redintheledger]

"Aren't they nice? Comfy as hell, too."

Sturdy.

Very sturdy.

[cute_bruiser]

"Very practical," Molly agrees. "And really cute. I go through boots like you wouldn't believe, worse luck."

[redintheledger]

"Don't suppose you get any discounts due to beating up giant evil robots?"

[cute_bruiser]

Sadly, "I don't even get any discounts for being cute."

And let's be honest: she is very, very cute.