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Molly McMann

"Oh, my gosh shut UP! Nooo... Ssshhh... oh my gosh, I'm sorry. Did I scare you? I didn't mean to. I can't tell you why I said that. I just had to. They won't be quiet... Nevermind."

0 · 460 views · located in St. Joans Medical institute

a character in “Dead Poets society”, as played by FalloutRomanae

Description

Name: Molly McMann

Gender: Female

Age: 15

Reason for breakdown: She believes that she has a serious mental disorder, but her parent wouldn't believe her. She grew increasingly frustrated with her inability to cure/express herself or get her parents to get a psychoanalyst for her.

Appearance: Molly has extremely long (almost down to her waist) brown hair, hazel eyes, fair skin, and a hour-glass shaped body. She wears her hair down, untouched by a curler or straightener, with messy but cute bangs. She is slightly bow-legged. Of course, she wears the uniform of St. Joans.

Likes: Cats, Languages (esp. German and Latin), success, silence, writing, Pink Floyd, Classical music, Mozart, G. F. Handel, Wagner, Tchaikovsky, Prokoviev, Carmina Burana.

Dislikes: girly-girls, ignorance or the love thereof, failure, loud noises, bugs, the forms in her head.

Habits: She has an odd thing where she tenses up her hands so that they are flared, then claps with the tops of her palms.

History: Molly was born to a happy family and was a happy child. However, sometimes she would act oddly, such as screaming right before falling instantly asleep, or fixing her gaze on nothing and then crying. She was a brilliant, well-behaved kid and was sent to a normal private school. However, being so smart, she soon learned to compare and compete with other students. Then she realized that the way she acted was portrayed in movies as insane, and she was incredibly different from her peers. After years of doubt and frustration, she finally came to her parents about it. They brushed it off as a 15 year old girl wanting nothing more than to be different. But what they didn't know is that Molly had been having these hallucinations and flashbacks to things that didn't happen and such since she was seven. Frustrated, she lapsed into a long silence. All of her schoolmates noticed it, but her parents didn't. She became angry and solitary, striking out with bitter sarcasm against everyone who forced her out of her mind to talk to them. She was enraged by her inability to explain to her classmates why she acted the way she did. She would sit motionless for hours and think about being someone else, someone from movies, books, or video-games. This was completely normal behavior from an eight-year old, but this persisted even into her young-adulthood. Finally, at school in Algebra II one day, she banged her head against her desk and screamed, covering her ears. She wailed that the forms in her mind were torturing her, and no one could hear her screams. She begged them to be quiet and to stop reminding her of everything. Then she bawled for anyone to hear her. She pleaded with her classmates and teacher to listen, just for a moment. Then she began to slam her head against the desk and punch her arms. Being very disturbed at this, the teacher called her parents, and then you know the rest...

Theme song: The Final Cut by Pink Floyd

Other: Molly loves music, because when she listens to the music it fills her up, and the noise in her head goes completely away. She loves that melodic silence. Also, she is a tomboy and used to take fencing classes.

So begins...

Molly McMann's Story

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross's eyes snapped to molly in attention. He held his nails up to his face, now realizing the blood from earlier. "Not quite. A nurse tried to force me to take medication I didn't need and I clawed at her face." he said a matter-a-factly as he put his hand down. "I don't like being forced into things I don't like, and as for me being here, I'm not quite sure." He tilted his head on the floor. "what brings you to this place?" he said before something caught his attention once again. Something in the distance. A figure, but all he was able to make out was that it wasn't a staff member and that the figure was female. Possibly a lost inmate or something of the like. "One moment. I'll be back." He said, trotting in the direction of the figure on all fours. His nails tapped on the concrete along with the quickness of his pace, but he was also cousious of this figure. Knowing full well that some of the other crazed of the institute were not as docile as molly.

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Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly hesitated, feeling like she was at the edge of a cliff. She knew that The Cure would catch her when she jumped off, but she also knew that once she jumped off, there was no going back. Then her sentience came back right when she didn't need it. 'What am I doing? Reading this crappy poetry that I hardly wrote? To these people?' She looked down at the worn page, frowning. It didn't rhyme. It didn't have meter. It was hardly even a poem. But for some reason something inside her screamed at her to read it. After closing her eyes for a long moment and exhaling, she spoke in a clear, present voice, much like the one that she had outside the cave with Svean. It was her real voice. "I have -" She froze. Her voice had sounded so loud and grating. She didn't intend for it to be that loud. Lowering her voice a little, she continued nervously, "I have a poem. I am going to read it, at the request of -" Her voice choked up in her throat. Who was he? The Cure? Svean? "Th- S- Sv -" After stuttering for a moment, she exhaled sharply. "I am going to read it." Shaking slightly, she took a deep breath and began:

Stepping down the dark stairs.
I like the dark.
It is warm, and safe,
And no one can see me.
People hear the soft footsteps,
But when I stop,
Pause half-way down the stairs,
They think I have reached the bottom
And move on.
Then I am alone.

But I do not like the dark
When only it is itself alone.
The dark is warm and soft
When the light is right outside.
But when the dark is surrounded
By itself,
Then The Form will have its way.
So I pause and breath in the space,
With my hand softly poised above
The light.
And I close my eyes.


Molly paused. There was more to the poem, but she didn't want to read it. Not yet. What she had read hadn't been that good already, and she wasn't going to make more of a fool of herself. She exhaled sharply again and abruptly sat down behind Svean, trying to choke back tears. She had just been and looked like a total idiot, and now The Form would torment her about it for days. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, swallowing painfully, and covered her ears with her hands. "I'm done." She said. Her voice bounced around in her own head, sounding odd to her, but normal to everyone else. "Let someone else read."

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Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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Molly slowly uncovered her ears and opened her eyes at Svean's voice. It was kind. Not harsh and judgemental, like she had expected. And everyone was cheering. Molly's tears came in the form of joy now. She glowed at Svean's praise. It was like cool water on a thirsty man's tongue. She had never been able to read her poems aloud to anyone before. She had been forced to keep them to herself, bottling them up inside of her painfully until now. And now they got approval from people like her. People who wanted to be whole. It was wonderful. She clapped and cheered happily for the stuttering kid along with the others. This was what she had always wanted. It was funny that she found it here, among people who regular society considered to be "dangerous." This was where she belonged. This was home.

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Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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Molly nodded. She wouldn't breathe a word of this sacred place into the unworthy asylum. 'Asylum.' she thought. 'Safety. Refuge. In the Latin. How ironic.' It wasn't the asylum, or the "place of safety" that was safe. It was this place. This was the real asylum for the mentally ill. "I would love that." she replied to Svean. She liked him. Even loved him, but not in a romantic sense. He looked at her in an odd way. Like he saw something in her that others didn't. It made her feel normal.

She was about to say something to this effect but as she opened her mouth, the next kid finished and everyone howled and cheered for him, drowning Molly's voice out. She closed her mouth and looked disappointed. Now she didn't want to say it. It wouldn't sound right. And The Form took this moment of unhappiness in this sea of happiness to strike. I'll say it for you. It'll be nice and direct. Then, with a cruel laugh, it slipped slowly into her consciousness like a slime. "No!" she whispered intensely. "No, I can manage on my own!" It laughed again. Now we both know that's wrong. And then the Molly that was there before was gone. The one who could express eloquently and regularly was shoved to the back of her own mind and the Form took over, commanding her and fuzzing up her intelligence. She got up and walked closer to Svean. Then, resting her head on his shoulder, she played with his hair, giggling. "And the mercury comes running down the mountain." she said. Then, suddenly serious, "There's too much snow on the roof. Your brains are in terrible danger."

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Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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She laughed lightly. "You talk about colors, I talk about sounds and chains." Then when he asked if Molly was safe she was serious again. "You're talking to me. I just can't hear you. I have to do what it tells me, or there will be consequences."

Molly raged against the Form, trying to gain control of herself again. But there were chains across her, holding her down. She couldn't get to the top of the water, and she was doing whatever the Form told her to to get there. None of it made sense. She reached out and grabbed for a handhold, something to keep her in reality.

She grabbed Svean's shoulder and gripped it tightly. "All the false input results in polluted output. You have to understand, don't you?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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Molly watched herself in sadness as her actions seemed to anger Svean. She jerked back her arm, releasing her grip on his shoulder. Why couldn't she say what she wanted anymore? Well, she knew why. She was always like this. That period of lucidity was a rare thing. Before she knew it, she was talking again. Trying to communicate when she knew she couldn't. "I protect myself. Keep myself safe inside this wall. I don't hurt myself." She listened to herself babble, frustrated that the words she wanted were not coming. So she just left, walking swiftly away with tears in her eyes until she tripped over something. She fell to the floor, scrambling for balance, but gaining none. When she hit the ground, she looked back to see what she had tripped on. It was Lacross laying on a stone. "I'm sorry. I was cutting grain but the scythe came back and hit me instead." Again, nonsense. She curled up and began to cry. What else was there to do?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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double post

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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In the cloud of thoughts and daydreams that Lacross had when ever he was on the deceive side, he failed to notice that someone else was coming and was in the way. Then again, from where he was and the line of sight from the back of the cave to the light filled front; one could assume that he was either a heap of fur or a sleeping animal.

He made a loud, barking kind of noise when he felt himself being tripped over. For a moment, he was about to ask the person that if they would be careful. However, he saw a familiar face. "What causes you such sorrow, little one?" He asked once seeing that it was Molly. He stood on all fours and paced around her, his eyes seen through the eyes in the wolf head hood. "Something has befallen you? The scyilla or the song of a siren? Or maybe the maddening eye of a gorgon, no?" He said, trying to get some sort of response from her. Even if it was going to be nonsense.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly sat up, sniffling. So now Lacross was trying to speak to her in her own language. She smiled faintly inwardly. Maybe he didn't know that she could understand him perfectly. Would he be embarrassed if he did? She hicupped with tears, then smiled. "You've got it feedin' outta yer hand." she said softly. Then she looked away shamefully. There was no point trying. The meeting was over anyway. Soon she would be back in that horrible room eating that horrible medicine. But at least she could look forward to the run back. Maybe she could come out again from the running. Maybe it would scare the Form away.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross snorted, deciding to sit cross legged behind molly. He shook his hood off and tilted his head to the side. "The limbs of the scyilla bind your voice or is it the morning star that binds your words?" he asked, trying to be as nonsenceical as he could without confusing himself in the process. "How did the scythe hit you back?" He put the hood back on and sat as a sphinx would, waiting for an answer.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly looked back at him, amazed that he was still trying to talk to her. Most people gave up after a while. She even gave up after a while, usually. "It smiled and looked beautiful," she said wistfully, "but inside it was black as night." She stood up. "We should go. Mother will be wanting us in bed." She laughed bitterly. She was actually looking forward to the run back. And talking nonsense to Lacross wasn't accomplishing anything. Maybe he would appreciate the freedom of a run just like she did. Maybe his odd, animalistic behavior was similar, in a way, to her uncontrollable behavior. She tried to ask him if that were true: "Does the moon shine on you? And does the moon knead me?"

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross purred somewhat. He turned to svean before going back to Molly. "I'll walk her back to her room. I'll be back." He said before turning back to molly. He tilted his head to the side at molly's question and sighed, "The moon does many things for me. How she see you is not for me to answer." He muttered before stepping foot outside the cave. He walked on all fours for a distance before turning around and sitting. In the moon's light, Lacross did indeed look inhuman. Only his eyes could be seen through the hood, a steel gray shining through. "Come, they may notice your absence."

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly followed Lacross, disappointed that it looked like they were only going to walk with everyone else. She remained silent the rest of the walk back.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross lead Molly out of the forest, as much as he wanted to run with the two distractions and howl to his heart's delight, his main job for them moment was to lead him lamb back to the fields. The halls were bare of doctors and other inmates being that the orderlies were trying to catch the howlers.

He looked at the doors looking for names that caught his eye. "Molly, Can you lead me to your door? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with where you are held."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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Molly nodded, taking Lacross's hand and running down the corridor. She finally stopped in front of her door. "Door number one or door number two?" she said, laughing. Then she let go of Lacross's hand. "Two by two they went astray, One by one they walked away." she said solemnly. Then she opened her door and walked in, closing it behind her. "And then there were none." she said to herself sadly. The meeting had gone both wonderfully and horribly. She would never be able to face Svean again. She was too embarrassed. But, thinking on it, she couldn't live without him. She had come to revere him or love him in some insane way, and she just couldn't do without him. There was only one thing to do. But she didn't have the courage to do it. So she went over to her bed and lay down, contemplating suicide. What other choice did she have before her? She would have to find out some way to do it. Strangulation, maybe? Her pillow case would work for that. But she couldn't do it yet. Not yet. She wanted to see her father first. Maybe she would put in a request for him in the morning.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann Character Portrait: Svean Marcia
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Svean darted away from the hand of another catcher. He gave a menacing howl and lunged at them. Their arms flew up but he dropped at the last second and slid under them. Catch me if you can! he thought and gave another howl darting around the corner. Groping hands awaited him.
"Caught you now, Filthy poet!" screeched a familiar voice. "Don't try and escape from me!" Svean gave a grin, hiding his eyes.
"You can't catch me, dog." he growled back, his voice completely different. he knew who it was. Allison. He kicked her right in the shins and she let go, screeching again. He darted out of the way and dashed down the hallway.

About an hour later it was safe to go back to his room. Sighing with relief Svean headed back, silent and invisible. Finally he reached it collapsing on his bed. I hope Molly and Lacross got back okay. He thought when something closed over his mouth. he opened his mouth to scream but was unable to with the cloth filling a strange smell in his nose. He slowly slipped into unconsciousness. Crap . . . he thought as his eyelids grew heavy. I have to make sure Molly is . . . but he couldn't finish because he was no longer awake.

"Are you sure Svean was involved, Ally?" Maytrum asked glancing at her best pupil.
"I caught him. I wouldn't have known it was him if he hadn't grinned at me. I'm positive he was apart of it."
"Well, we'll have to put him in a therapist interrogation then." she said cooly. Ally looked shocked.
"But Maytrum! Isn't that a bit . . . extreme?" she said timidly.
"Don't you want to get rid of that infernal club?" she said cold as ice.
"I do but . . ." she looked at Svean worried. "I guess it's for the best." she muttered and Maytrum smiled.
"Good girl." something pierced Ally with those words. It hadn't sounded like Maytrum wanted to say girl. It sounded like she wanted to say 'Dog'.

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Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly woke up and realized that she had finally managed to fall asleep. She had had terrible dreams about a church that slowly killed anyone who went inside of it. Silly, but terrible. She instantly reported to the medication counter, got her meds, and headed to the dining hall. She sat down at an empty table and tried not to think about last night. It didn't work. It had been awful. There was no escaping the Form now, so she put her head down on the table, cradling it in her arms, and waited for someone to come help her out of this vicious cycle. They wouldn't come, and she knew it. But she wanted to wait for them anyway. Like a child who sleeps by the door, waiting for Peter Pan.

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Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly didn't even lift her head up from the table as Matryum went on about how powerful she was. Molly didn't even care about the Dead Poet's Society anymore. She didn't care about anything anymore except seeing her father. She knew that wasn't going to happen, though. Matryum wouldn't let it happen. They couldn't be allowed any happiness in here. It was a prison.

After lunch was recreation time. Molly plodded into the recreation room and sat down at one of the arts and crafts tables. She tried to write, but couldn't get the words on the page. They didn't make sense. They were jumbled up and running around and she couldn't get them to cooperate. So she gave up. She just put her head on the table again and gave into depression. Why couldn't she just die? Whenever she wanted to? It was pathetic, she knew, but she couldn't help asking. Where was Death when you needed him?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross poked his head up from under the table when he heard the announcement. He made a looked of displeasure and idea forming on his face. He had met Maytrum once, the time that he had arrived and was sadated from becoming violent with one of the staff the first day. From then on, he had seen her as nothing but a bringer of pain and anguish. Now she had someone of importance. If he was going to gain at least some healing in his time here, something had to be done.

However, he wasn't sure who was part of the society and who wasn't, nor did he know who to trust as of yet. He would just have to keep watch.

Even then, there was time for recreation. If anything, he tolorated the staff at this time since they did provide him with paint and canvas instead of pencil ever since a fight broke out between him and another inmate. He set up in the corner, on the floor with the back of the canvas towards the other people in the room. He would peak every now and again while he painted, sure he wasn't all that good at it but it got his frustrations out if he couldn't talk for the moment. He spotted molly while peeking out from the battle on his canvas. Again, not being able to speak, he made a small barking noises toward her trying to get her attention.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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As Molly was erasing her most recent attempt at writing something down, she heard an odd sound. Barking? She looked up to see Lacross huddled behind a canvas, barking at her. She sighed. She didn't want to talk to him right now. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now. But he seemed very insistent. So she got up and walked over. "Careful. Contents are fragile." she said as she sat down next to him. She still hadn't fully recovered from last night and nothing she said made sense. Well, it did, but in an insane way. She looked expectantly at Lacross. "Subtitles on or off?"

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He huffed, frustrated with the fact that he wasn't able to speak at all for the time being. He looked around, looking for something to convey what he was trying to say. He perked up and nuzzled Molly's are as if asking if she was alright. Having not seen Sadie all day, he started to attach himself to who ever would at least tolorate him. Or in the very least understand him at the moment.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly watched as he became frustrated at something. He seemed to be unable to make any human sounds. Interesting. Then she flinched as he nuzzled her arm. She hadn't been expecting that. What could he be trying to communicate? 'It'll be alright,' maybe? It seemed like that was it. "No it won't." she said to him, suddenly lucid. It seemed the physical contact with another human being brought her back to reality. "I feel terrible. Last night was awful. Oh, God, last night." She covered her face in her hands. "I can never face Svean again. I suppose I'm even glad he got caught, so I don't have to talk to him again." She looked Lacross over, trying to judge if he was okay. "How are you? Apart from... you know, incoherence?"

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross sighed, somewhat discouraged about the feeling coming off Molly and after last night's breakdown, he had some understanding of what she was going through. He paced around her on all fours quickly and wove himself through the legs of the easel, showing that he was alert and well after last night. However, this did get the attention of the nurse in the room.

"Lacross, you know we don't allow that here."

Lacross snarled and seemed to raise the hair on his neck, causing her to back away. He looked back at Molly, nuzzling her leg in reassurance. He never liked to show his simmering rage in front of people that treated him with respect, a bit disrespectful in his eyes.

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Molly nodded. He seemed to be okay. She even smiled a little when he wove through the easel's legs. It seemed a little playful in its activeness. But then Molly's countenance darkened as the nurse jumped down Lacross's throat for just communicating. "Oh, Lacross." she sighed as he rubbed against her leg. "I wish I had your problem rather than mine. Not to say that it's better or anything, it's just that... I think I could cope with it better." She looked around, sighing again. "I just wish I could get out of here." she said. "I want nothing more than to see my dad again. I don't even care about living anymore. You know, I've never cared for a boy the way I cared for my dad. How about you? Was there someone in your family that you held special?"

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Character Portrait: Lacross Cromwell Character Portrait: Molly McMann
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Lacross sighed and whined a bit, wishing that Molly would stop asking questions where it would be easier to speak. He looked around the room and darted off under the table of the others in the room. He waited until they weren't paying attention before grabbing paper and pencil and darting back toward Molly again. He put the paper against the wall and started drawing. If anything, Lacross had a talent in the art from what he had been told, if not in speech then in art. It only took him a few minutes to return to Molly and handing over her.

The sketch was of a woman dressed in various furs and feathers in a tribal fashion. A matron, aged around 30 to 35 and wielded a bow. The hood of the furs had a crown of antlers and ivy vines and stood in defense of a small child, also dressed in furs. Lacross made no eye contact with Molly, fully expected to be belittled and called a freak for it.