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@forensicpatherapist-blog
Part two! In which we answer important questions like:
the way to molly’s heart?
if Molly could have her time again, what would she change?
favorite/least favorite word? ic and ooc (Sorry, we only did ooc!)
do you have any secret tragedies?
Still the worst camerawork on earth. Sorry! More namedropping abounds.
Questions part one, in which KK and I answer important questions:
why are you with glen wtfÂ
out of those you know, who does molly most admire?
worst thought/worst thought acted upon?
what shoe is molly? what shoe are you?
a song molly would like to be sung?
Fun times! I also investigate KK’s room. We name drop a lot - I’m not going to try to tag. XD Apologies for my AWFUL camera work. I was NOT focusing on it.
â‚Ş sending this to everyone omg i'm sorry
Send me a â‚Ş and I'll handwrite your name.
[and url]
((HELLO DEAR FRIEND
((BUENOS DIAS.
//BON FUCKING JOUR
//’sup dawg
((HELLO DEAR FRIEND
((BUENOS DIAS.
//BON FUCKING JOUR
((HELLO DEAR FRIEND
((BUENOS DIAS.
OOC
((Seeing as all of you who follow me most likely follow littlemousemolly, this is probably redundant, but we will be answering questions (most likely in video format) about ourselves and our characters. That being said, we need questions in order to answer them, so ask away!))
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armydoctorassistant replied to your post: armydoctorassistant replied to your post: OOC (It...
(Girl, you’ll always be a coolkid. :D)
((... Whaaaaat? No. You guys are the coolkids, I just kind of sit here peeping through your windows like a creeper with my leaf outfit and face paint to blend in with the shrubbery outside, idolizing my dear stalkees. I'm like littlemousemolly's annoying little sister who just kind of pops in when her and her friends are all trying to hang out and I get all excited, wanting to please them and become a coolkid too but I will just be kicked out by the teenage coolkids because hanging out with little sisters is like, totally not cool.))
armydoctorassistant replied to your post: OOC
(It only gets worse from here, sorry to say. What is sunlight? Light comes from my laptop…)
((Oh, it's this weird thing, I think I've heard of it...
I think it's the light that makes the outdoors (also a foggy subject) brighter, or something. It's natural - hippy or flower-child light, or whatever. I see it sometimes during the five minutes it takes to get from my home to my bus stop and back again.
I don't have all the details, though. Anyone care to... shed some light on the subject?))
OOC
((Whelp. I am well on my way to becoming a college student.
My dinner is being eaten at 10:45 at night when I realized I hadn't eaten yet. It is a pizza hot pocket, served on a ripped paper towel. My beverage is half a cup of stagnant few-days-old water because I don't feel like going back downstairs to get fresh water.
I plan on staying up and sleeping in late.
No wonder people think I'm older than I am, I sit around and do this kind of thing all the time. It all makes sense now.))
Emotional destruction, one M!A at a time.
Molls: I think Molly is more peturbed
Molls: by someone calling Seb batty
Molls: than by the fact that he kills people for a living
Molls: ...dammit Molly
Jimcest: youroldfashionedvillain
Jimcest: moransm
Jimcest: i will sssssssssssskin you
Jimcest: my god the feels you people give me
Jimcest: i fucking hate you
Helena: ASDFGHJKL
Helena: NO
Helena: I VETO THIS
Helena: HELENA VETOES THIS
Helena: THIS IS NOT OKAY
Helena: YOU TWO STOP IT
Helena: RIGHT NOW
Meena: what
Meena: no
Meena: nonono
Meena: noononononoNPOONnONONO
Meena: feeeeeeels
Meena: everywhere
Molls: FUCKS SAKE
Molls: SEBASTIAN MORAN
Molls: IF YOU SHOOT YOURSELF
Molls: I WILL FUCKING HUNT YOU DOWN
Molls: AND BY YOU I'VE CHANGED IT TO MELIA
Molls: SINCE SEB'S
Molls: YOU KNOW
Molls: FICTIONAL
Meena: ((THAT WILL NOT STOP ME. I WILL HUNT DOWN SEBASTIAN FUCKING MORAN, FICTIONAL OR NOT.))
Molls: ((…and then we’ll weep on his pauper’s grave. :|
Molls: you cannot convince me
Molls: if Jim did not know him
Molls: anyone would know where to find him and give him a proper burial
Molls: nope
Molls: no one
Molls: shut up
Helena: no
Helena: it is not alright
Helena: just liveblogging some drama
Helena: just going to cry out all my feels
Helena: and swim in the vast ocean they create
Helena: and drown a little bit
Helena: and
Helena: yes
Meena: I can breathe again
Meena: heysoos chreesto
Meena: don't do that to me
Jawn: Wait WHAT about Seb’s suicide
Jawn: what
Jawn: gdi this is what i get for being mia most of the day right
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Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, transgender, asexual, and/or a supporter.
[Ace. ; 3 ; I feel so special that we were mentioned… that almost never happens. Heteroromantic, if you’re wondering.]
((Pansexual and genderqueer.^^))
((Pansexual and definitely a supporter~~))
{{Shhhhh I dunno what the hell I am, I just want everyone in my bed. I mean what.}}
(( Genderqueer and proud of it! ^__^))
[I lack a sexuality. I think they forgot that when they were making me. I just like people and hate labels. I think I’m a little andro-sexual, too androgynyisjustreallysexykay.]
((flaming asexual all up in this bitch))
((You too? Hot damn. Asexual sapioromantic.
((I say pansexual, but I think I'm closer to panromantic. *shruuuug* Either way, 'm not straight, and I'm definitely a supporter~ ^-^))
Meena, completely exhausted from the last few days of work, wearily shut the front door of her flat behind her, barely seeing anything but the hallway to her bedroom. She flopped ungracefully onto her bed, shoes still on and hair still up. She pulled her glasses off (she meant to keep them on the bed with her, but she appeared to have misjudged where exactly the edge of the bed was, according to the muffled sound they made as they collided with the carpet) and rubbed tiredly at her eyes.
The last few days may just rank as some of the busiest in her life. Numerous people apparently decided that now was the perfect time to kick the bucket - very full buckets, and Meena was on constant cleanup duty.
It may not have been so bad if they were all normal deaths. Unfortunately for the pathologist, most all deaths had been obscure or unusual, and it was her job to figure out what exactly they were. As an added bonus, two of her co-workers were on holiday, and the other co-worker was next to useless. At least a fourth of her time was spent rectifying Deanna's mistakes. Apparently the girl hadn't even gone to the recommended classes, thinking them a waste of her time as she never thought she would actually have to do work. Not to mention, the girl was squeamish. Meena had given her an incredulous look after Deanna had gagged when she opened the first corpse. How can a morgue worker be squeamish?
There were at least three homicide (or suspected homicide) victims among the latest batch, so a lot of her time was also spent talking to detectives and comparing notes with Anderson (out of necessity and obligation, of course - Anderson was a total prick).
Meena would have stayed at the morgue if she could, but after her boss had come in for the early day shift and saw that she was still there, hours after she should have gone home, she was ordered to leave and get some rest. She begrudgingly complied, attaining a whopping three and a half hours of sleep before coming back under the influence of two cups of coffee.
So, all in all, she was tired, her feet hurt from being on them for hours on end, she'd barely eaten (a bag of chips from the vending machine and another coffee), she was overworked, and she was worried that Deanna would mess things up when not under Meena's constant supervision.
The last thing she wanted to do was get up and have to make something to eat, so she didn't. She had almost fallen asleep when her phone buzzed from her pocket. She groaned, but she didn't give her number out to very many people, so she figured it had to be important.
It was a text from Molly. The timestamp was not the current time. She scowled at her phone and hit it with the palm of her hand. Damned phone. Or rather, damned phone reception in the morgue. Maybe it was just her plan. Who knew. Either way, the message had been delayed, and it was only just getting to her now. As her finger twitched to open it, the phone vibrated again. Another message. Again, not at the correct time. It buzzed a third time, and, now worried and guilty, Meena stared at the phone until it stopped vibrating.
She didn't see Molly much at work, unless she specifically sought her out during a lull in activity. This was the first real lull she'd had since going to work a few days ago. What had she missed? Had Molly needed her? Was she okay? Oh hell, what if something horrible had happened and Meena hadn't answered and now Molly was-
Barely daring to breathe, she flipped open the phone and read through the texts.
[Text] Meena?
[Text] Meena, something weird's just happened, come over ASAP. Please.
[Text] I can't reach Glen. It's important, help me.
[Text] No one is answering their phones and I don't know what to do, please help.
[Text] I'm so scared. Where are you?
[Text] I'm sorry, you're busy working, too, aren't you...
Meena's fingers fumbled with the phone, her head pounding with possibilities, her heart stopped with worry, her throat choked with guilt.
If the messages weren't worrying enough, the fact the Molly had completely forgotten her usual signature was terrifying. Usually there was at least something. The only thing she could content herself with was that Molly couldn't have been imminently dying, because the latest text had come early that morning, the others having been scattered about the previous day.
[Text] Molly, I'm so sorry, are you okay? Where are you, what happened?
Her tiredness pushed aside for now, she shoved herself off of the bed, hurrying back into the main room to don her discarded jacket, ready to head out the door on a moment's notice, in case Molly still needed her. It sounded serious enough that she just might.
(And even if Molly didn't need her, Meena would probably still go and find her anyway.)
