Crowley returns with hot beverages. Coffee, mostly. He begins to dole out the steaming cups. Eyes ran over the company. For the moment, he held his tongue.
Crowley returns with hot beverages. Coffee, mostly. He begins to dole out the steaming cups. Eyes ran over the company. For the moment, he held his tongue.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Morgan gets a warm smile from him:
"Ah, Morgan, right. I've actually been doing some parkour training after that? Learned a few cool tricks so thanks for pointing me in the right direction".
Ermon is trying to let up on coffee so he just shakes his head at Crowley's offer. He's been downing the stuff like water for months and heard it could be dangerous for his heart. So it's either give up the bad habits or go Ixidor's route and learn some Life. Maybe both.
As the conversation progresses, he pipes in:
"I don't know, man. I mean, there were people really interested in getting to the truth, could the CIA or whatever really cover things up that well?" - ha pauses, considering, - "But Lennon was, like, a symbol of the whole pro-peace and harmony thing. If someone planned it then why kill? It only makes the man a martyr who died because of his beliefs..."
The chef gestures to the others
Crowley shook his head sadly. "Authority don't think like that, man. They be like... oh lets squash the symbol - then the plebs will hide and forget about the message. Because, you know, they're sheep... or something like that. Course, they keep forgetting that if you kill the symbol, you make a martyr. You know."
Origins liked this post
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Morgan's mouth opened with the following: "Ooooh-kay, heh...I d-d-don't know lots a-about that, heh-heh. I c-can lissten and learrrn then speak. P-p-p-plus izz hard to t-talk sometimes, heh-heh. T-t-thank you for explaining it miss Martha..." Well that had been an embarrassing example of her ignorance, hadn't it? Though she did notice that Martha was staring at her legs for some reason. The Changeling did the same looking down at them, wondering if she'd gotten something on her pants or something. She couldn't find anything though, "Um, zzzzorry m-miss, heh, b-b-but tis there zzzomething w-w-w-erroneous a-about my leg?"
Morgan was distracted by the arrival of the drinks, accepting a coffee from Crowley with a nod, "T-t-thank you sssir, heh, most k-kind of you." She took a sip of the bitter beverage. It was a good thing caffeine didn't make her speech problems worse.
She then sent a smile to Ermon, "G-g-glad to heh-hear it. You did-do-do-do good, heh. I wwwas happy to help ssspread parkour-fun-times. B-b-beats sssitting in traffic, heh-heh." She seemed rather upbeat about it. Though the talk of assassinations and old celeberities was a little lost on the little Lost. Maybe she could just employ the trick of "smile and nod" to help get her through this? Or just listen to what folks had to say.
For all she knew, Lennon was a fetch and Chapman had been the original. Or it was the DNA/CIA or whatever. Smile and nod seemed to be a working plan here. She sadly found herself nodding to Crowley about the sheep part. If people weren't, they'd notice the Fae and be fighting them already.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Martha smiles sweetly to Crowley and takes a sip of her warming drink. She actually has to avoid spluttering the drink, though once Morgan catches her looking at her leg.
Blinking, Martha grips at the mug of drink and adds a meek; "Oh, well... Nothing is amiss with your legs, Miss. Rather, quite the reverse. Please forgive me, Miss, but I was thinking to myself how admirable they are. Now you explain your interest in parkour, it makes sense! I..." Martha sighs and her peg leg waggles, "I should be careful of those legs, Miss." her words soft and sincere. Clearly worried for Morgan's well-being.
Trying another shy smile to Morgan, and hating that she'd been spotted staring, Martha glances to Jason, hoping to weave more from this conspiracy with additional data and further distract from her faux pas;
"Of course, it's alleged that Mark Chapman was a subject of the MK-ULTRA mind control experiments too; which is why he described having to obey the commanding words in his head instructing him to shoot John Lennon."
Origins liked this post
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The racoon tilted her head in confusion. The noise of the peg leg waggling cleared it up as her mouth made an "O" of relization. "Um, heh-heh, t-t-thank you. Zzzorry if made you un-uncomfortable. I w-w-will take care of them, heh, need...erm," Morgan stopped before saying "you need legs to run away from danger." She winced, getting a little flustered. She blushed but she'd hadn't said it, "R-r-r-heh-heh, correct word. Experience meh-be? I am decent azzz a traceur an-and know to roll with landings, nada use feet, heh-heh. B-b-but total thank you forrr concern, heh-heh. Tis most kind of you." She sent a friendly smile towards Martha. It was nice to know there were such caring folks in town.
And the topic was back to conspiracies. Morgan had already proven just how ignorant she was on this subject, mixing up Lenin with Lennon. The books she'd grabbed had better chances of telling her how to kill Fairweather than she did of giving meaningful insights into conspiracies. She perked up at the comment of "hearing voices." She knew of three reasons for that: ghosts, Pledges, or simply crazy. "Ummm, heh-he heard voices? T-t-that cooould be sub-pli-sub-div-submar--grr. Stupid-stutter. T-t-the word for audio-based mind-control-stuff. Oro-or schizophrenia. Or b-both, heh, c-c-crazy people brain-rinsed into assassin izzz still crazy at end."
Crowley sipped his coffee with an enigmatic grin spreading over his face.
"Nice to see we have some free thinkers at this table," he murmured. "The truth will out." He winked.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Coming up on a month -- this will close on the 4th!
Yumyumcrow liked this post
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
As the conversation turns and chatter continue Martha nods to Morgan, finishes her cup of coffee and stands up.
"Ah," she begins sadly, "it is late and I should make a move. I'll leave you good people with this to consider, though, if I may..."
With a playful smile, tiny Martha, gripping her cane, cheerly adds;
"In September 1963 a man, an American intelligence officer, called Richard Case Nagel walked into a bank in El Paso, Texas, and carefully fired three shots into the wall of the bank. After he'd done this is, he calmly walked back outside the bank, sat down in his automobile and patiently waited to be arrested."
"When the local police arrived, Nagel surrendered peacefully and, when asked why he'd fired the shots into the wall, he said that he wanted to be in Federal custody as the President of the United States was about to be assassinated and he did not want to be the patsy when the assassination occurred."
Nodding meaningfully, Martha nods her thanks to those whom she met tonight and makes her way out...
Many thanks for the scene!
Crowley smiled and saluted the strange little woman as she made her way. Leaning back into his seat, he finished the rest of his coffee, eyes wandering hungrily over the stacks once more.
Nice little scene. Thank you
Draft this Post
