2009-10-25: What Do You Do?


Molly_V4icon.png Ndugu_V4icon.png

Date: October 25, 2009


Molly meets Ndugu. And explanations and plans abound.

"What Do You Do?"

The Orphanage, Germany

Micah wasn't lying when he told Molly to pack warm. The orphanage, or whatever it is that they're calling it for those on the run with special needs (that is, abilities) isn't exactly snow covered yet, but as Molly sits outside, it's possible to see her breath on this fall day. The others are inside for food or work, Micah away on something important and that leaves Molly here to admire the view. Or think over the way things have been going in her life so far. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she rests her chin on them and takes in the remote mountains.

Ndugu is not used to the weather either, having come from an extremely warm portion of Africa originally. Of course, spending time in the United States and Germany has allowed him to grow accustomed to it a bit. He trudges up the path towards the house, spotting the orphan on the steps and pausing. He doesn’t say anything – he rarely does and most of the individuals in the Orphanage know he’s typically silent.

Molly is not one of those orphans. The silent type. And while she is technically an orphan, she doesn't really consider herself one any more with the addition of Mohinder, Matt and Grandma Suresh into her life. They've become her new family. Leaning backwards, as she has to in order to look into Ndugu's face, she puts a hand above her eyes so that she can block out the sun and see him properly. "You're not young enough to be in an orphanage," she tells him.

Ndugu raises an eyebrow, and for some reason rather than simply walking past her or staring silently he answers back. His voice has only a mild touch of an accent, though it is very, very deep, “I am here to keep you safe.”

Mohinder has an accent, too, so she doesn't really mind that. In fact, most of the people in her life have some form of accent or another. Molly doesn't seem to be off put by the raised eyebrow or anything else. She's curious about him. "Keep us safe? I thought just being here was enough to keep us safe. What do you do?"

“What do I do?” Ndugu asks, perhaps curious about the question as he tilts his head to one side and looks at her. His whole nature seems to be very critical, as though he’s reading more about her than she is saying aloud.

Maybe that's true. Molly's always been a curious sort of girl and has already inferred that most of the people here - even the adults - have some sort of an ability. And so, she assumed that he might as well. "Yes! I thought everyone here had a special ability. Micah understands electronics. Charlotte can teleport. What can you do?" If he's studying her, she doesn't seem to be nervous by it.

“It is not something I can show you,” Ndugu answers, seeming rather adamant about that little factoid, “It would be irresponsible.”

Tilting her head slightly to the side - opposite of Ndugu - it's almost like Molly is mirroring her companion. Maybe she is, but she's doing in unconsciously. "Is it something you can tell me? Without being irresponsible? I can't show other people my ability, either. It's just something I can tell them about. Not 'cause it's irresponsible, just 'cause it's not something you can show."

“I can do things with memories,” Ndugu says, perhaps the first time he’s revealed to anybody the nature of his ‘power’, “I could show you, but your mind would be effected.”

Not sure she likes the idea of someone messing with her mind, Molly just watches him for a moment. "Is it like erasing memories? Or changing them?" The thought of any of her memories not being as they actually are disturbs the young girl and she doesn't tell him that he can show her. Not for now, any way

Thinking that over, Molly lets her feet drop down to the ground and leans back onto her hands. The view really is quite lovely, but that doesn't mean that she likes it more than New York. Or India for that matter. "Aren't you going to ask me what I can do?" It's nice to have an adult to talk to. For some reason she always feels more comfortable with them. She's been through so much it's hard to just play like a child sometimes.

“What is it that you do?” Ndugu asks, sitting down on the porch as well and resting his hands on his knees.

Seeing that he's going to sit down and actually talk, Molly finds that it's easier to continue the conversation. "You don't have to ask me if you don't want to," she says, shaking her head so that her blonde hair falls behind her shoulders and it's easier for her to see him. "I just thought that since you told me yours you'd ask me about mine. I kinda like that we can all talk about it here." But, she still hasn't said what she can do yet.

“I am asking now,” Ndugu says quietly, remaining seated and looking off towards the street, “Being able to talk about such things is less of a burden, yes, but in the end it is unwise to grow comfortable in such things. You never can know who is trustworthy.”

"But you were only asking because I asked you first." Though Molly has been through quite some ordeals in her life, she's still a thirteen year old girl. She can still be immature. "That's not a nice thing to say. A lot of people are trustworthy. Especially here." With a frown, she turns back to look at the scenery. "I find people."

“’A lot,’” Ndugu begins, not outwardly flustered or annoyed by the display of immaturity, “Is not ‘all’. Caution is a necessity. Are you a tracker?”

"I guess so. I don't trust everyone." That would be silly. But not trusting anyone is just as bad in her opinion. There are good people out there. Molly frowns at the word 'tracker'. "Not really. I'm not a bloodhound or anything. I read the Hound of the Baskerville's once. It was Mohinder's copy. I don't do that. I just know where people are if I think about them."

“I see.” Ndugu remains silent for the time being, staring off into space. Where others may ask her to find someone, he simply takes her ability in stride and nods his head slowly.

It makes sense to Molly. She didn't ask him to rearrange her memories, he doesn't ask her to find anyone. It may not have done any good, anyway, because if it's someone she doesn't know she'd need a picture. Though she allows the silence for just a bit, she likes to talk. "So, why are you here? Just to protect us?"

“I am here to help Miss Corday,” Ndugu replies, “And to protect you and the others. We worked together some time ago and I chose to remain with her afterwards.”

"Worked together?" Molly gives Ndugu a questioning look. It's nice to have a getting acquainted conversation with someone. "Where'd you work?"

“For a company,” comes his reply, and his tone seems to suggest that he does not wish to venture down that avenue just yet, “Who brought you here?”

At the mention of the word company, Molly raises an eyebrow. It's something she picked up from Mohinder. "A company?" Not The Company, hopefully. As she picks up on the tone, she won't add to it other than to say, "She said that she worked with Mohinder for a little while. Maybe it was the same company." At the other question, she shrugs and tells him, "Micah and Charlotte. They want to keep me safe."

“I see,” Ndugu answers quietly, moving on from the conversation about the company he worked for and remaining silent for a time, “You are safe here.”

A moment pause and Molly shrugs. It's both a dismissal and an agreement - she'll agree with him, but that doesn't mean that she believes it. "I've heard that before." Many times. With the Company, at Grandma Suresh's, in Brooklyn. Everyone seems to think she'll be safe somewhere else, but it never turns out to be the case.

“I have a plan,” says Ndugu in reply, looking into space purposefully for a moment before he turns slightly and offers a hand for her to shake, “My name is Ndugu.”

"A plan?" Everyone seems to have a plan or another, but so far she likes Ndugu and would like to hear about his. Taking his hand, she looks serious when she shakes it. "Molly Walker." Now that they're all properly introduced, she's still interested in this plan of his. "What's your plan?"

As soon as he touches Molly’s hand, it seems as though all of the memories in her head – even some that have been forgotten – rush to the front. Ndugu’s eyes mist over, becoming entirely white for a split second. It takes barely a moment as he releases her hand, speaking quietly, “I hope you do not feel as though I have invaded your privacy. My plan involves hiding you all. So completely that they can never find you – not until it is safe.”

He then attempts a reassuring smile, “But not yet. For now you are safe right here – even if you do not believe it.”

The rush of all her memories flying by her eyes makes Molly blink a couple of times, as if she had just stared at the sun for too long. She doesn't feel violated so much as slightly off-kilter now. "D-does that happen every time you shake hands?" It's one thing if he can't help it, it's something different if he meant to. "But…what about the people we want to find us? How would they know where we are?"

“Sometimes,” Ndugu replies, leaving the exact nature of his ability ambiguous for the time being, “It is often strange.” Putting his gloves back on quietly, he goes back to staring into the distance, “My plan would be a ‘last line of defence’, as they say. We should hope we never need to enact it.”

"Like a witness protection program." She's seen the shows, especially in the last week or so when she's been hiding out in Matt's apartment. As to his answer about his ability, she nods just once. Though Molly doesn't have an ability that's haphazard, she has seen and heard of peoples who are. "Most abilities are strange in some way."

“Yes,” is all Ndugu offers, standing up and looking down at her, “Come on, it is almost time to eat. You can’t spend all your time out here.”

Though Molly would like to say that she could, she doesn't. Instead, she picks herself up off the ground and brushes herself off. "Alright. Do you know what we're having?" So far she's not sure if she likes German food as much as Indian, however she's turning into quite a world cuisine expert with all the countries she's lived in.

"No," Ndugu apologizes, "But how about we find out?" And with that, he opens the door to let Molly into the house.

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