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Airs and Heiresses
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Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Jul-6-2015 11:19

New York, 1938
St. Regis Hotel
Rooftop Nightclub

"So there I was, staring down a barrel INCHES from death...and I told the man, 'darling REALLY, if you simply must shoot me do allow me to remove my earrings. They are Cartier, you know." Molly Maltese paused to take a sip of her Red Snapper, popping the olive neatly between her cherub lips before gnashing it to a pulp. "And the man was quite flummoxed, he said- I say, is that Riza Hawkeye?"

She rose, the group of rapt men in tuxedos and women in glittering dresses and furs murmuring their protests as she wended through their knees. But the apparition she was quite sure had been Riza Hawkeye had vanished in the crowd of New York socialites populating the exclusive terrace.

"Well, this place is a bit ritzy for Riza." she murmured, fairly certain her old acquaintance didn't make a habit of populating social-climbing fetes. And she reasoned, any time Riza had appeared before it was hardly ever for a pleasant cause. Well, maybe that was unfair. It just seemed she was more the swirl-of-furs-and-stiletto-daggers type than a frothy socializer like Molly herself.

Peering around, Molly saw nothing but the shadowed faces of revelers partially cloaked in the smoky haze. She had just been about to give up and go back to her companions when the most shocking hubbub began. Over on the north part of the terrace, she could distinctly hear the shouts of men and panicked screeching of females. Moving forward, she could just make out..

"Did you see... The Ambassador... who could have... murder! Someone has pushed the Ambassador off the building!" Molly picked up speed, expertly weaving through the crowd of panicked voices. Sirens already began to sound twenty stories below. Just as she grasped the ledge and looked over, an all too familiar voice sounded in her left ear.

"Oh hello there, old friend. Lovely breeze out today."

Before her stood Riza Hawkeye herself, looking utterly unruffled as several ladies fainted behind her.

Replies

The Cloaked Figure
The Cloaked Figure

Sep-12-2015 01:26

Mama and I walked the streets that night together. The few people that were present on the streets bowed to her and thanked her for her presence

Mama told me if I wanted to find peace I needed to go on a journey. As luck would have it, another opportunity presented itself the next day.

As I walked through the countryside, I came across a blind beggar. When I passed him a coin, he took hold of my hands and told me to head west to find peace.

When I asked him how he knew what I was looking for, he simply responded, “People only come this way after they’ve seen Mama. She never tells them to come here, but they all do.”

I continued on until I came to the base of a great mountain. A woman there handed me a smooth polished staff, telling me that I would need it to reach the top. When I asked her what was at the top she smiled and said that I would know should I survive the journey.

It was a journey indeed. Five weeks I toiled to reach that summit. I passed the remains of countless individuals who had fallen on their quest to reach the top. I endured snow, rain, lack of food, exhaustion, illness, wild animals, and freezing conditions.

When I reached the top, I had to smile at the woman’s prediction of my walking stick. I did need it, as it was the only thing holding me up. As I stepped forward, several cloaked figures surrounded me, scooped me up and carried me inside.

I quickly learned that I had made a pilgrimage to a great monastery, thought lost for centuries. They are known as the Cloaked Guardians. Upon arrival, their walking sticks are branded with the name of the monastery. Then slowly through each trial, each test, each moment of initiation, the staff is carved with more and more symbols.

The Cloaked Guardians have no regard for gender, status, or color. One of the first steps of training is to learn to use the neutral voice. The voice used by all of the Guardians, one that betrays neither gender nor age.

The Cloaked Figure
The Cloaked Figure

Sep-12-2015 01:26

There I labored for several years. My masters asked me what I wanted, and I responded that I wished to start over, to leave the pain of my past behind. Every day they pushed me towards this. They trained me to fight, they taught me to remain calm no matter what, and they opened parts of my mind I had never utilized. I had my peace, I had my anonymity, and I was unburdened.

Then the day came. The day they told me it was time to return, to use what I had learned and to live my life as I chose. You see, the Cloaked Guardians don’t stay at the monastery for the rest of their lives. The final test, the final measure of peace, is to take this philosophy, this maxim, and be the person you have become in the world as we know it.

A young woman had come there many years ago. Her husband had left her because she could not bear children. She had climbed to the highest bridge she could find and prepared to jump when she saw the sun glint off the top of a mountain. She resolved to find out what that light had been. Years later, when she returned, she chose to call herself Mama, and be the mother to her neighborhood. She’d set out to fix herself only to discover that what she wanted to be most of all, she already was. In unburdening herself, she became the guiding voice and guardian for generations of children.

When I returned, the problem of crime had only gotten worse. Sphinx, a minor presence in Shanghai at my departure, had become a major player in the world of organized crime. I began patrolling the streets, stopping muggers, preventing theft, only returning proportional force against those who meant me harm. Slowly the news of the phantom spread. This avenging angel who kept the streets safe, and suddenly the safe neighborhoods began getting bigger.

I found my peace, my unburdening, and it was in helping those who were helpless. Under this cloak, I have no responsibility, no obligations, no history, no pain.

The Cloaked Figure
The Cloaked Figure

Sep-12-2015 01:27

At this point, the cloaked figured noticed that whereas the conversation had started with Molly, the room was now filled with detectives on the edge of their seats.

The cloaked figure sighed, reached up and lowered its hood, revealing the face underneath to those assembled.


Heimlich VonVictor
Heimlich VonVictor
Vigilante

Sep-12-2015 01:29

Tears streamed down his face as he choked out, “I have missed you all terribly.”

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Sep-13-2015 09:19

"I think this shade of red would look just divine on you." Molly said, brandishing a sleek tube of Ravishing Red lipstick. "We just won't tell dear daddy."

Molly sat Arielle in front of a makeshift vanity that Molly had constructed and began to wet her hair and comb it through. Humming to herself, she reached for her arsenals of pomades and waxes, arranging Arielle's hair around her face in sleek finger waves.

"I used to have a maid to help me style my hair." Molly began thoughtfully. "But things being what they were after I went into hiding, and my utter unwillingness to look like a terrible slob... I learned a few tricks myself."

Her fingers worked up and down around Arielle's face as she waxed, combed and then pushed her hair this way and that to achieve swooping waves. Arielle watched her in the mirror, transfixed.

"Let's see, you were Josee originally. Is that what I heard? And Anais is your mother but is not your mother. Sounds like an awfully complex family tree." Molly said casually, rolling pin curls deftly at the nape of Arielle's neck. Arielle leaned her head forward slightly.

"My mother... well, Anais. She's not my mother, but she's taken care of me as long as I can remember." Arielle said quietly.

"Ah, sometimes the best mothers are the ones with no blood relation." Molly said wisely, frowning at a particularly stubborn pin curl, then yipped indignantly as Arielle shook her head.

"No, Anais is really my aunt. My true mother Anais' sister Lisette died."

Molly's eyebrows shot up even as she finished the set. "And Joseph got involved with both of them. How interesting." She shook her head and mouthed "MEN." to no one in particular.

Arielle saw her reaction and gave a tiny smile. She was deciding she liked this somewhat flamboyant woman. She fit interestingly in the group made up of her mother, Aunt Riza, Vulkie, and the various men. Sort of like a peacock roosting with chickens.



Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Sep-13-2015 09:20

"Ooh, did you see how fabulous I looked from that angle just there?" Molly said, opening her eyes wide and tilting her head again experimentally. "I should have all my portraits done this way!"

Arielle watched her with wide eyes. Definitely a peacock.

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Sep-13-2015 09:33

Presently, Molly had primped, pushed, swiped, rubbed, patted and dabbed Arielle into a striking visage. No mere 14-year old was this! Her lips were perfectly shaped in red, her eyes bright and wide with dramatic wings of smoky liner around them, and perfectly penciled brows. Molly pursed her lips, wondering if this little waif would now outshine her but then decided she could be magnanimous and share the spotlight if only for one night.

In record time, Molly applied her usual red lips and neat eyeliner with dark sooty lashes and brushed out her hair. Noting the shorn piece in the front, she frowned and pinned a neat white velvet cap with a white fishnet applique over the whole 'do. Nipping into a blue walking dress, she left her room and struck an attractive pose in the living room.

"Yoohoo!" she called, and Phillippe and Arielle stepped in from the small porch outside.

"Darlings, really you are holding me up immensely. I must have a new dress." Molly said prettily, and shooed them out the door. Phillippe kept peering at Arielle in distaste as they begin to walk towards the shopping district, and presently Molly took her handbag and whacked him over the head with it.

"Why are you throwing such rude looks around, what a boor you are." She said crossly and Phillippe blushed.

"It's just...she looks so... old." Phillippe said, and with a squawk of inhuman rage Molly pushed him right into a bush and kept marching on with Arielle, linking her arm in the girls.

"I don't know how you stand him, really he doesn't know how to talk to women AT ALL." Molly whispered, and Arielle gave a slight giggle. Brushing himself off, Phillippe trotted after the pair calling apologies and burning with embarrassment.

****
Molly had hit the perfect department store on the first try, and Arielle exited the doors in a stunning red dress with a slight Peter Pan collar, small ruching at the bust and fitted all the way down into a neat pencil skirt. A small red bow sat on her waist

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Sep-13-2015 09:40

and Molly had immediately called for white kitten heels and an adorable white clutch purse to match. She personally finished off the look by placing a white fascinator of pearls and fabric flowers above Arielle's right ear.

"Now remember, if your father tries to rush me, I am armed and I will shoot to kill." Molly said, straightening the hem of her own deep emerald wiggle dress. It sat just slightly off the shoulder with a crisply cut bustline, ruching over the waste and slinky material to the knees. Molly kept on her own white pumps and clutch.

So dressed, Molly paraded the group into a restaurant situated at the penthouse of one of the buildings. It was all dark wood and glowing lacquered red poppies in the table and wall panels. Candlelight votives glowed from each table. After a casual card was produced from Molly's wallet, Phillippe and Arielle were ushered to raised booth in the back.

"I hear they always keep this one reserved for the creme de la creme." Molly said casually, whispering to the attentive waiter. A bottle of fine wine appeared, and glasses were poured for all.

"A toast!" Molly raised her glass. "To not being insufferable bores locked in the house tonight."

With a full smile, Arielle and Phillippe returned her toast. Molly took a sip and set her glass down.

"Now, what's the happening? I'm simply on the edge of my seat to know why everyone is so wound up and I won't be satisfied until you tell everything to your Aunt Molly... oooh. oh. No, nevermind you mustn't call me Aunt Molly ever. It makes me sound terribly old and dowdy. Heavens." Molly washed that bad taste out of her mouth with another sip of wine and then looked expectantly at Arielle...

Arielle Zeo
Arielle Zeo

Sep-13-2015 21:20

Arielle had heard bits and pieces about Ms. Molly Maltese, her mother hadn't known this woman all that well, but Arielle always knew that Anais respected this woman whith the penchant for fine food and luxurious clothing. The day, thus far had been a whirlwind. She had never had makeup put on, or worn such a stunning garment before. She surreptitiously slid her hand slowly down the smooth silk sheath. What had happened to her? Who was this pretty, pampered girl?

Molly was lookiing at her expectantly. So was Philippe. She shook off her thoughts.

"Elle, are you ok?" Philippe asked, concerned.

"I'm sorry, what was the question," Arielle asked Molly, while giving Philippe a half smile.

"I simply want to know what is going on, popsy!" Molly flashed her brillant smile. Philippe looked like he might start panting.

"Motther has gotten herself... tied up. In a manner of speaking," Arielle said haltingly.

Philippe snapped to attention at the quiver in Arielle's voice. "Maybe we shouldn't discuss this here, Elle," he said, vocie low, with a glance at Molly.

Molly sat back, studying the two young people in front of her. She gave a quick nod and, with a tinkling laugh that caused heads to trun in stare in awe, said "Yes, you are quite right, darlings. What news do you have, Philippe, wubsy, of the coming autumn fashions?"

Philippe blushed as red as a radish and hemmed and hawed his way through descriptions of the coming changes to the wool industry. Soon the meal was over.

The light still shone on the street, though it was starting to darken. Arielle nudged Philippe when she saw a man sharpening kitchen knives in front of a small alleyway. Philippe looked in the direction, and nodded.

"Oh! Looksie! There is a perfectly lovely hat shop! Let's go!" Molly cried, grabbing Arielle's hand, and headed to the shop right next to the blade sharpener.



Arielle Zeo
Arielle Zeo

Sep-13-2015 21:21

Philippe went to talk to the man as Molly set about looking for new hats, and to find Arielle a perfect hat as well. Arielle watched Philippe out of the corner of her eye as he held up small metal discs that glinted in the dying light. She nodded at the blue ripple in the steel. Arielle turned back to the hats as Philippe pulled a few coins off his belt.

It was dark when they left the milliner's, Philippe's arms piled so high that he couldn't see over the boxes. Arielle had managed to keep the number of hats Molly had bought her to two, one a bright green cloche, and the other a black silk pillbox with a spray of white fabric flowers and a white feather sticking out.

Molly stumbled, almost knocking Philippe and the hats over.

"Whoopsie-daisy!" Molly giggled, managing to catch herself. "So sorry, wubsy. It's this hat!" she pointed to the immense black feathered concoction that swept over her eyes.

Philippe sighed. "Ms. Maltese, did you really have to drink all the sake that they offered you? For that matter, did you really need to buy fourteen hats?"

Arielle giggled and tripped, catching herself and her hats.

Philippe scowled as he walked sideways, the only way to see with all of the boxes he was carrying. "We are going back to the house," he grumbled. "Right now!"



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