One cup of coffee, please. [Rook/Molly Private]

Molly rested her left arm on the backrest of the bench she was seated at, one that she exerted great effort in acquiring. With Valentine’s Day passing just a short while ago, it seems that some romance was still left lingering in the air – couples were hogging all of the benches to themselves, laughing and doing all manner of things that people of their sort do. She didn’t really mind that too much, save for the part where they monopolized all the seats. It took around a half hour of waiting before this seat was finally open for taking, and she sprung on it from her spot behind a tree as soon as those two lovers stood up.

If asked why she was so intent on securing somewhere to sit, she probably couldn’t give a satisfactory answer. Molly just decided that she really wanted someplace to relax, and the park seemed like a great spot for that. Today’s perfect weather was reflected in the number of people all around, delighting the street vendors greatly so. The cup of roast coffee she held in her hand was the fruit of her patience (she didn't think she's ever seen a longer que for simple coffee), as well as the bag of plain donuts by her side.

But honestly? It felt good to peacefully waste time away doing things like this. The only thing that slightly dampened her mood today was her now numb tongue, accidentally burnt when she took a careless sip. Her cyborg hands lacked the sense of touch, unable to determine how hot the cup of coffee exactly was. The sight of a couple teenagers playing and running around distracted her, and well... The rest was history.
 
Letting out a carefree yawn, her gaze fell down to her cyborg parts. Being unable to feel with them was something that she missed, even if she wouldn’t admit it to anyone who asked. The first few years after the incident were rough and taxing, with her constantly feeling an empty pang where her limbs once used to be. Gradually though, the flowing sands of time helped her grow accustomed to them. Each winter after that night served to lessen the frequency of her haunting nightmares, even if they did come back eventually, sparked by her parents' passing and her dive into the criminal market. Many nights she woke to the glint of moonlight against bladed arms, an unconscious transformation brought on by a very real sense of mortal danger. There would be tears, an aching heart, and the lack of anybody rushing into her room to give her some comfort.

Panting, wheezing, burning lungs. Fear welling up inside, a red-eyed beast killing her from within. Streaming tears. Searing white pain as the first of many blows struck. Wailing screams.

With glazed over eyes she took a slow sip, waiting for these memories to take their leave. And while these bouts of downtrodden emotions still sometimes surface, at least she’s gotten now to a point where the death of her Pa and Ma were something that she’s mostly at peace with, and that the nightmares were once again receding into the dark.

She prayed that they never again come crawling back out.

The bench had been hard won, but that seemed to be a fact that Rook was more-or-less oblivious to. She sat down opposite Molly, carefully brushing her hair up into her lap to keep it from getting dirty as she did so. The very slight catch in her voice seemed to imply that the white haired girl hadn't spent any time at all looking for a bench, much less waiting to grab up the opportunity to sit down. And as she pulled her sling-bag up to her side and removed a checkered thermos from within, it became fairly apparent that she hadn't had to wait in line for coffee either.

In actuality, Rook simply preferred her own blend. A light roast with sugar and a touch of cream; no one ever said Rook was a gritty sort. She took a sip of her coffee and let out a small sigh, quite pleased with the drink. Even the thin wisps of steam that drifted up from the opening in the top of the thermos were pleasing to her. What was good tasting coffee if the smell wasn't equally appealing, after all? She shifted in her seat, crossing her feet in a way that would be indecent if she weren't wearing shorts, and leaned back a bit more heavily into the bench's wooden backing. Even with that, her fairly insignificant weight still wasn't enough to set the wood to creaking. Her boots, on the other hand, did creak. The leather was supple, but strong and somehow managed to make more noise than the white plates of steel bound to each boot.

It was only then that Rook seemed to notice the woman sitting across from her. She looked at her for a moment, her eyes rolling over the cybernetic prosthesis that made up for several of Molly's lost extremities with a hint of curiosity, and then she gave a slight nod and turned back towards her coffee. With one hand, the white haired girl fished a small paperback novel from the same bag her thermos had been in, though she didn't open it just yet. For the moment she seemed to be simply enjoying her drink.

A welcome distraction from the direction her train of thought seemed to be leading her to, Molly's attention was snapped back to reality when a girl with heavy boots and a unique theme of clothing took a seat next to her. This cyborg girl wasn't somebody that payed much attention to fashion trends and the likes, and this was still an unnamed stranger, but even she could tell that this girl's choice fit her as well as wine suits cheese. A style that Molly developed a little fondness of, honestly. There's just something about colors in monochrome that pleases the eye, or in the very least to the pair that belonged to her.

The stranger looked in her direction, and Molly watched her reactions (or lack thereof) to the cyborg parts she bore. People had asked in the past why she she didn't simply cover them up with long sleeves or lengthy jeans, and Molly responded mostly in the same way every time - responding with a statement about how she saw no reason to hide. Her fingers would poke out anyways, and then she'll need to wear an eye patch to cover her right eye too (which would admittedly be potentially a little cool). That, and how she thought that any actions taken to cover what she is up will just propagate more feelings of self-doubt and shame further down the line. By showing the world that she had nothing to hide, she can carry within her easier a sense of self-worth and dignity. It aligns also with her virtue of independence, a motto along the lines of 'I can live by myself just fine.'

Molly's own gaze started from the girl's long hair before trailing down to her boots, and there they lingered. That pair she wore looked like a durable sort, making a ruckus that hinted at more secrets than were obvious during first glance. Giving the girl a nod of her own, Molly called out to her with a smile. "That pair of boots you have there, they serve a greater purpose than just complimenting the rest of your nice-looking outfit, right?" She met the girl's eye for a few seconds before pulling them away, scanning over the people littered all about before settling on a couple under a tree. "Love's still in the air, huh?" she said, commenting on the sight. Raising her arms up for a stretch and letting out a yawn, she leaned back in her seat. She raised her cup to take a slow sip, grateful for the peaceful air all around. She loved this feeling of having no obligations, having nothing at all to attend to. Calm, lazy days like these were her favorites.

It was a moment before Rook replied, though she glanced over towards her bench-mate as soon as she was addressed. Just at the moment she seemed to be a bit absorbed in the rather long drink she was taking off of her coffee, and as she finally pulled her lips from the thermos she let out a self-satisfied sigh. She looked thoughtful for a moment, licking the bit of coffee that still clung to her lip away before she shifted her attention more fully to Molly. "Love? I suppose it is." She looked around a touch uncertainly, as though she half-expected the nearby couple to come to blows just as quickly as they'd embraced. It didn't happen, suffice it to say, but the white haired girl still managed to seem a bit cynical.

"But... you commented on my boots?" Rook looked down, smiling slightly as her eyes alighted over the leather covering her (amusingly dainty) feet. She shifted one foot, a plate attached to the heel of one boot clinking softly as it touched the cement below, and then looked back up at Molly. Her head tilted in a way that sent her hair cascading over her side, a fact which seemed to annoy the girl ever so slightly though she made no comment. "Board Shaker," she said by way of explanation, "my weapon. I'm a student." She brought the thermos up to her lips, but voiced an afterthought before taking her next drink, "At Syne; my name is Rook."

When she heard the girl next to her begin to speak, Molly turned away from the couple and back to the white-hair with a smile. She took a few sips of coffee while listening intently, letting the girl carry on with her part of the conversation. Molly liked to think of herself as a pretty good people-person, and she had gotten the feeling that this girl wasn't one that enjoyed people butting in mid-way. Quiet, soft, sad and cute were four words that the cyborg begun to associate with this white-hair. Whether they be true or not were another matter entirely, but she'll treat her with these in mind for the time being.

Because of that, she felt pretty glad when Rook shared more details about herself. Seeing a tiny smile appear was quite a gem too, Molly thought. Coming from her, these were probably important gestures. With a slightly wider smile than before and more than a tint of happiness in her eyes, the cyborg earnestly responded. "Why, that's a really pleasant surprise. I'm a student there too, actually." Flashing her a grin, Molly wanted to reach over to ruffle her hair. She held back though, wary of that being an extremely wrong course of action to take. "Molly Jones," she said. "That's a really neat name for your weapon. I just call these Righty & Lefty, she said with a chuckle, raising her arms to let Rook know what she was referring to. "Wanna see? I promise you, they're cooler than the name sounds."


OOC: Oh man I'm sorry for this late reply. I feel quite bad about it ;-;

Just as Molly had, Rook listened quite carefully to her bench-mate. She sipped calmly at her thermos, restraining her enthusiasm at the rich, sweet taste as best she could. After a few moments, she lowered the container and re-capped it. A pleasant expression overtook the white haired girl, and she couldn't help but give a somewhat amused smile in reference to to the Faunus' excitment towards demonstrating the potency of their weapons. Or perhaps she was amused in regards to the girl's straightforward naming scheme, either way amusement was being had.

Electing to humor her new companion, who she found to be curiously tolerable, Rook gave a slight nod. "Please, while your 'coolness' is definitely beyond question a demonstration might prove entertaining." With that said, she subtly shifted the book in her lap into the carrier bag it had been pulled out of. Evidently she was offering Molly her full attention. A soft squeaking came from the girl's boots as she adjusted her position, perhaps growing just a touch excited at the prospect of seeing another weapon.

OOC: Lemme preface this by saying how horrible I am at describing this and oh god I hope it makes at least some amount of sense ._.

Soft whirling and mechanical groans sounded out from her arms and hand as she started their transformation. The upper and bottom surfaces of her arms (elbow to knuckle) split slightly in half, forming two semicircles, extending outwards to briefly reveal through a small gap the gears, wires and metal supports within. A flat and sharp piece of metal darted out through the gap, looking as sturdy as it is deadly. The arm’s semicircle clamps back down as the blade took after the arm, both halves of it also splitting outwards to meld with the arm’s upper and bottom surfaces respectively. The shape her arm now took on was one that looked kind of like a semicircle attached with a triangle.

As this was happening, the metal on the surface of her fingers pulled back, revealing sharp daggers inside. These attached with one another on the sides, as well as to the blade going down the length of elbow to knuckle, altogether forming one long and deadly weapon.

"Told you it's cooler than it sounds," said Molly grinning, ignoring any potential stares from the people around her. How can they not be in awe at the sight?