#;illya

     She didn’t exactly how she came to be acquired by this organization that called itself The Hand after the shipyard incident, couldn’t yet decide if it was better or worse than being in the workshop, or even if they’d been involved in this transaction. Either way, she knew how to keep her head down and play by the rules, and that’s exactly what she would be doing.

It started off familiar enough. A battery of physical and mental tests, evaluations and experiments as they tried to ascertain the extent and limits of her abilities. Afterwards, they brought her out to play with the other kids, and Angel found herself sparring with actual honest to god ninjas. Their brand of viciousness made for good training. It was a nice way of keeping herself busy while they continued to keep her in the dark as to what they wanted with her. Nothing good, for sure.

Drunk Meme

“Watch the–” Molly began, but it seemed Illya had already caught himself. That bookshelf had been with the property long before she’d opened shop, but she couldn’t bring herself to throw it away. Creaky floorboards and groaning bookshelves added character.

“Well, we’re certainly undiscovered.” She grinned. “I don’t get a lot of business in a small town, but I think I draw enough curiosity to make things work. There’s always something new, isn’t there? Some new treasure to find and give a new home.” Locking the case, she pocketed the key and turned back to face him. “And the most morbid things can often be the most fascinating. Humans as a whole don’t like to be presented with the concept of our own mortality–we don’t like what we don’t know. But with little treasures like our transfusion kit here, we may better understand it.” She grinned, glad for the chance to have an interested party to talk to.

His choice of words had Molly laughing. The sheer intensity of the phrase! Not that she could blame him; the transfusion kit was an amazing find, if she said so herself. A complete set, in pristine condition…she’d chomped at the bit to bid when they showcased it at the auction. 

“Isn’t it though?” Molly beamed over at the skeleton as if it could see her, more than a little proud of Mr. Bones’ forward thinking. After all, how could a skeleton hope to survive an ever-changing world if he wasn’t going to adapt to modernized ideas? 

“Online?” Molly glanced back at him–well, up at him, considering–a confused expression plain on her face. “Message boards? People are talking about my shop on message boards?” Yes, one of her friends had mentioned they might put a shout-out on some page or other (really, she still had no idea what any of that meant.The internet was a vast thing that largely hated her anytime she touched a laptop), but she hadn’t thought it would actually generate interest. She made a sort of ‘huh’ expression, before shrugging and moving back toward one of her cases to the side.

“But, yeah…yeah, they’d be right. I’ve got all kinds of fun things here. Medical text, implements, Mr. Bones there in the window-” Molly gestured to her display, where the medical school skeleton was currently dressed more like Audrey Hepburn than a learning tool, “-but he’s not for sale. Um, nickel silver forceps–oh, oh, check this out…” 

He’d glanced about, and the shopkeeper couldn’t resist mimicking the gesture, just out of sheer curiosity for what he might have been able to take in. All she’d gotten from the glance was a view of the bookshelf and the back door. Tall people saw things differently, she supposed. His joke wasn’t missed, and she offered a lopsided smile.

“McKie. Molly McKie–pleased to meet you, too.” She gave him a once-over, curious and not unfriendly. “Six-foot-four, huh?” A lift of her chin. “I’m five-five. That’s…tall, for a woman…” 

“Damages.” Molly repeated, bending as well to assist. Well, at least he hadn’t intentionally set out to destroy the place–here’s hoping he didn’t develop a taste for it. “There’s not really any harm done, buddy. I’m pretty sure these books have had worse than a few knocks, and that lamp hasn’t been able to knock anyone in the skull in a long time. I’d say you were doing it a favor.”

“And I’d say that I should owe you an apology–not really easy to move around in here, is it? Not enough places are height-accessible for people of your, ah…stature? How tall are you, anyway? Nevermind, nevermind…” Just as quickly as the question came, Molly waved it away, having to stand on her toes to replace the books from the shelf he’d knocked them from.