miss-mary-white-blog

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“This.”

Mary aimed a kick right at the other woman’s side with as much force as she could put into her legs. Which was a lot more than enough to break some bones.

“Well you’re bugging me. You g-got a p-p-problem with him, I got a problem with y-you.”

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“Well you’re bugging me. You g-got a p-p-problem with him, I got a problem with y-you.”

“It’d be a good idea to, considering that’s my boss.”

The empty smile had faded away, leaving a murderous expression in it’s place. Her knuckles turned white with how tightly curled into fists they were.

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“It’d be a good idea to, considering that’s my boss.”

The empty smile had faded away, leaving a murderous expression in it’s place. Her knuckles turned white with how tightly curled into fists they were.

The raised fist paused mid-swing, halted entirely by the sheer coldness found in the other woman’s tone. Oh yes, she definitely felt that chill, and it causes her to bristle slightly in response to the threat of possible danger. Instead of crashing into the dingy wall, River flattened her hand against it.

“Why… No. Am I supposed to care?” Turning to look at Mary, the expression on her face is mild, blank as the look within her own eyes.

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(Mary’s eyes snapped open and the little smile that had grown on her face smile definitely didn’t reach her eyes anymore. When she spoke, it seemed like the room dropped a few degrees in temperature.)

I’m sorry, do you know who you’re insulting?

Funny how things tend to sour quickly within a small cell… But it’s not the dingy setting that makes River’s teeth clench. Neither was it the cold-shoulder that her cell-mate was clearly trying to give her, oh no. It was that damned singing again. “Oh for crying out-…” Comes the mutter, her irritation returned full-force. And in a seeming flash, the assassin was up and returned to her ‘place’ at the wall, fist pounding on the aged structure.

“Hey. MORON. Will you just be quiet already, some people don’t want to hear it!”

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red-hemlock:

“Perhaps a little, I’ll give you that, but even they aren’t immune to a bad case of sulky-face! Personally, I feel like it’s a by-product of the city itself… You make base here for a year or so, and the whole atmosphere starts to eat you alive optimism-first.”

“…Something tells me you might be one of those unfortunate villainous-victims.”

“I’m a perfectly happy around the right people. Currently, it’s probably just the current company.”

(She quieted down when she heard a tune from a few cells down, the familiar ‘will you won’t you will you won’t you’ making her a little bit happier despite the fact that she’s been in a practically one sided argument for the past hour or so.)

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red-hemlock:

“Incorrect, darling. I’m not dense at all perhaps a little sometimes but still, I’m simply a bit ‘eccentric’.” River rolls her eyes, staring at the other with a highly bemused expression. Honestly, she’s long lost count over how many times she’s had to ‘justify’ her personality to other people; it was becoming second-nature almost. Yet she doesn’t comment on the whole ‘lonely’ bit, however.

“Nobody said I had to be dark and broody and miserable 24-7 to be considered of the villainous sort, dear. One could say that’s a rather ‘cookie-cutter mold’ nowadays!”

“Around here, that’s more how the heroes act. The villains tend to be a bit more lively.”

(She still didn’t turn around, knowing she’d only get angrier if she had to keep looking at her new idiot of a cellmate during this conversation.)

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red-hemlock:

“Yeah, I suppose the ‘friendly’ roaches and moldy walls are a little worse… At least you only see the slop a couple times a day.” There’s a chance that River truly was reading between the lines of Mary’s response… An arch of the brow, a brief gleam in her eyes perhaps. But if she was doing such a thing, she was also doing her damndest to not show it.

“I’m afraid ‘teamwork’ is a bit of a rarity in my line, dear… I’m rather allergic to back-stabbings and such. You’re looking at the ‘boss’ and ‘help’ of this merry group of one. Besides, payment is ‘thanks’ enough I’d think.”

You are a very lonely, dense person, aren’t you? (The smaller girl lay back on her uncomfortable bed again, facing away from her apparently amazingly stupid new cellmate.)

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Trust me, the f-food isn’t the w-worst thing I can th-th-think of right n-now.

(Mary turned her nose up at her extremely disagreeable cell mate. She was reminded of those ‘variables’ they had been talking about.)

Perhaps you’re w-w-working with the wrong p-people, then, because I get th-thanked p-perfectly enough.

“A busy, but rather thankless job… Most don’t manage to survive cleaning-up the Rogues’ ‘variables’, sometimes.”

“Hmm…?” She arches a quizzical eyebrow at Mary, apparently just now noticing the rather unhappy look darkening her face, “Now that’s a sour expression… Not feeling well, dear? I suppose anyone who eats the gloppy ‘paste’ they call food here wouldn’t.”

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I’m th-there to get rid of the v-v-variables.

(Mary set her book down, tensed up in an attempt to keep herself from lunging at her new ‘cellmate’.)

The assassin either doesn’t seem to notice the other woman’s growing agitation, or doesn’t care outright…. However, considering the almost-dorky look of contemplation on her face, the former seemed to be the best bet. “Hmm… Even still-… Pretty dangerous thing, to rely on others so heavily. Especially if most of them aren’t willingly on the ‘payroll’. ”

“Way too many variable to consider there. The very first thing you should trust and hone is yourself, in case things go south. Heck I’m pretty sure even the Scarecrow knows how to defend himself somewhat, and my thighs are probably bigger than his body.”

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H-He prefers to have p-people do things f-for him. Which he’s g-g-good at, s-since he can m-m-make anyone l-listen to him.

(Mary seemed a bit more angry at the insult to her employer, the girl being both quick to anger usually and even worse when someone is insulting Jervis.)

“Actually dear, at times the hired hands are just as important as the higher-ups… But that still doesn’t change the fact that I was talking about your boss.”

“They mustn’t be very physically adept, if they require so much help.”

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I’m n-not the one you sh-should know. My B-B-Boss is.

(The shorter girl barely cares about the insult, flipping a page in her book. Which she had actually started reading during the conversation.)

A smile, still bright and genuine, but with the barest hint of a smirk at the other woman’s jab, “I’m a very busy lady who doesn’t play well with others very often, and that includes the resident Rogues. Forgive me if I don’t remember all of the ones outside of the really ‘Big Bads’.”

Obviously she wasn’t afraid to ‘jab back’, too.

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(( I wish I had more threads on here. Gwuh.))

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Just a w-w-welcome gift.

(She shoved him down and gave his ribs a few hard kicks, And definately were hard, since she heard at least one crack. After grinding her heel on his face, she dragged him up and led him quickly towards one of the rooms at the end of the hallway, tossing him excitedly in front of her boss.)

(Slade smirked lightly)

“About Goodamn time, I have work to do kid.”

(He entered into a pitch black hallway, and suddenly stopped halfway)

“The hell is going on, whose there?”

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I’ve met t-tourists who know m-m-more a-about th-the criminals of Gotham th-than you.

(She gave up on the subject, figuring if the card wasn’t a bell-ringer it might be hopeless. Instead, she addressed the other comment.)

I’ve a-actually broken a few guards r-ribs before. One of them w-was messing with b-b-boss, so I k-kicked him into a w-wall.

“Nice bookmark, dear.” She doesn’t think much of the incredulous look that the other woman gives her, so used to receiving such treatment from others as she was for her actions. But she eyes the card in Mary’s hand with mild suspicion.

“I still don’t see why they would want to take your book from you though… You don’t strike me as the type that would act out.”

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Gladly!

(She kicked his leg with full force, much more force than most people could kick with.)

 “No.”

    He stepped toward her, pushing the handle of the blade aside with apparent expertise.

 “Do your best, but this time i’ll react, stutterer”

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(Mary looked at her like she’d said the sky was orange, flipping to the back cover of the book and opening a small panel in it. A small card with a ten over six fell into her hand.)

The b-book is just so I d-don’t get bored.

“….A book?” River raises an eyebrow, looking at the seemingly unassuming thing with unabashed skepticism. The assassin could’t see the problem, unless heavens forbid, this girl could somehow weaponize paper of all things… As ‘dumb’ as that might have sounded, anything was possible in this city.

Still, she figured she might as well throw the flat-toned question at the other girl. Anything to take her mind off of that god-awful singing that was starting to seriously dig under her skin, “Unless you have some C4 hidden between those pages, I don’t see why they wouldn’t let you have it. I’d figure some mental stimulation would be welcome in a mental hospital.”

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Don’t n-need to be s-scrupul-lous. Just n-need to do what Boss t-t-tells me.

(She grabbed a book out from under her mainly-metal bed and sat down on the later. The singing grew louder, but Mary still couldn’t make it out well enough to care.)

The woman’s eyes continue to narrow at the wall, thoughts of knocking a fist against the horribly aged structure to try and shut the person up running rampant through her mind. “No promises I’m afraid my dear, morose friend…”

River’s attention is drawn away and back to Mary, and she shoots the other a small, cheeky grin over her shoulder… She wasn’t planning on escaping at the moment. “You’re squirreling something ‘bad’ away in here, though? How unscrupulous.”