Post by mordekai on May 16, 2009 8:50:44 GMT -5
Soft footfalls worthy of a stalking vampire slip down the stairs, the warped floorboards barely uttering a whimper as she snuck from her room like the thief that she was. There are bags in her hands, bags that held clothes and necessities rather than the usual load of weapons and stolen jewelry which were once housed within.
The Mink herself looks different, a little more controlled, calm instead of the nervousness she'd been exuding like a personal perfume for the past few months since her return home. Perhaps she really was more affected by those five years than she thought, spending her time repressing instead of figuring a way to help herself.
All those sparklies just weren't making her as happy as they used to. Sure she still loved to pile her sheets with precious gems and bathe in the glitter, but the satisfaction that once came from the thrill of obtaining them just didn't really do it for her anymore.
And that was worrying.
What was more worrying was the fact that she secretly knew what ailed her, and had refused to do anything about them until now. As if Mort purposely hid a tumor she'd been aware of all along.
Running a hand through wine red locks, she sighed and took one last look at the place of her birth. The Elefang Speakeasy, a place where the lowest of scum and cream of the crop mingled, a place where the Mink had grown up and gotten her formal education. She wanted to remember every last detail, from the hand-carved bar to the mis-matched stools in the corner where the boys played poker every night.
Most of all, Eugene.
Teacher, Magician, Coward... Father.
Swallowing hard, Mort sighs softly and pulls out her favorite revolver for the last time, caressing the cool metal lovingly before laying it upon one of the tables and tucking a note underneath it.
She knew he deserved more than a hastily written letter but if stayed, if she lingered long enough to see those sad blue eyes ,she would never leave.
The final touch, was her famous 'Mafia hat', a dark grey and well-worn fedora which had been hers the moment she'd been found.
It was taking every ounce of her frail strength to finally step away from the table, holding back a sob that clawed at her insides along with the anxiety and fear of leaving something familiar. But she had to do this, for her sanity and his. Morty never figured herself the most responsible person, and she figured it was time for the Mink to step up to the plate.
Picking up her bags once more she drifts through the silent club painted in twilight tones, and ever so carefully, pushes past the doors to head up the stairs towards what would be newer, more dangerous pastures.
Mordekai, has left the building.
The Mink herself looks different, a little more controlled, calm instead of the nervousness she'd been exuding like a personal perfume for the past few months since her return home. Perhaps she really was more affected by those five years than she thought, spending her time repressing instead of figuring a way to help herself.
All those sparklies just weren't making her as happy as they used to. Sure she still loved to pile her sheets with precious gems and bathe in the glitter, but the satisfaction that once came from the thrill of obtaining them just didn't really do it for her anymore.
And that was worrying.
What was more worrying was the fact that she secretly knew what ailed her, and had refused to do anything about them until now. As if Mort purposely hid a tumor she'd been aware of all along.
Running a hand through wine red locks, she sighed and took one last look at the place of her birth. The Elefang Speakeasy, a place where the lowest of scum and cream of the crop mingled, a place where the Mink had grown up and gotten her formal education. She wanted to remember every last detail, from the hand-carved bar to the mis-matched stools in the corner where the boys played poker every night.
Most of all, Eugene.
Teacher, Magician, Coward... Father.
Swallowing hard, Mort sighs softly and pulls out her favorite revolver for the last time, caressing the cool metal lovingly before laying it upon one of the tables and tucking a note underneath it.
She knew he deserved more than a hastily written letter but if stayed, if she lingered long enough to see those sad blue eyes ,she would never leave.
The final touch, was her famous 'Mafia hat', a dark grey and well-worn fedora which had been hers the moment she'd been found.
It was taking every ounce of her frail strength to finally step away from the table, holding back a sob that clawed at her insides along with the anxiety and fear of leaving something familiar. But she had to do this, for her sanity and his. Morty never figured herself the most responsible person, and she figured it was time for the Mink to step up to the plate.
Picking up her bags once more she drifts through the silent club painted in twilight tones, and ever so carefully, pushes past the doors to head up the stairs towards what would be newer, more dangerous pastures.
Mordekai, has left the building.