Through the looking glass
Who: Penny and Zechs
When: Mid afternoon
Where: The dance studio
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings: Male genitalia
Notes: Penny Dreadful spoilers
Summary: In which Penny fall through the Looking Glass, Zechs has a problem with aging, and objects fall out of purses
he last thing Penny expected to see when she entered Ghirardelli Square was herself, but there she was. Looking down to the black cat in her arms, she considered her options. “Mister Mistoffelees, what do you see at that table over there?”
“My old Mistress. And a big juicy rabbit.”
The Mistress part she understood, though the rabbit bit was odd. Ducking behind a pillar for a moment she contemplated her course of action. Obviously neither of the was Brandon and she still needed to get his property back. Lost in thought she didn’t even notice the waitress.
“You’re not the only one who’s skein is tangled. Fix it.” Norna’s voice but not, upon looking up, Penny noted, Norna’s body. Smiling at her, the waitress pushed her back into the mirror behind her.
Penny braced herself for a crash that never came. Instead she fell through the mirror... and into a large well appointed dance studio. Perhaps the blond wig was the wrong choice for today. She had become Alice through the looking glass. Penny glanced around the room, stroking her familiar.
There was soft classical music playing through the dance studio and a tall man with long pale, pale blonde hair was going through some ballet routines. The way he moved suggested that he had been doing this for a while. The music came to an end and he stopped moving. He knelt down and picked up a bottle of water. Before he could sip the water, he froze and then very slowly turned to face the woman who had fallen through the glass.
Fix it? What had she meant by that? Penny pushed the question to the back of her mind and looked over at the blond man. He was handsome to be sure, but life in San Francisco had taught her that most long haired dancers were gay. Kind of a pity really. “Sorry,” Penny said with a graceful curtsy. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your practice.” Hopefully he hadn’t noticed her unorthodox entrance.
"It's quite all right Miss. We get this a lot." Zechs looked her up and down and then shrugged a bit. She was nice looking, but he was engaged. "People arrive in the strangest of fashions on the island." He knelt down and pulled out his gun, something he always kept on him, and then checked the ammunition. Still a full clip... Setting it back down, he rose, tossing the loose braid over one shoulder.
At the sight of the gun, Penny stumbled back to the mirror whispering a prayer to Saint Margaret of Antioch, the patron saint of women. Pretty, gay, and homicidal, that seemed just about her speed today. Hopefully he wasn't a vampire too. Inside of Zechs' gun the bullets and the clip corroded and aged as if centuries passed in seconds.
"I'm not going to harm you. I'm a soldier." he said softly.
Because that made things so much better and soldiers never shot anyone. "I didn't know the military had a dance squad," Penny replied primly. Better always to remember one's manners when in a threatening situation. She didn't want to give him reason to use that firearm after all. Still, he said it was common, but that didn't mean it was treated as a good thing. In her hand, her lunch pail rattled, a reminder that she still needed to get Brandon his property back.
With a chuckle, Zechs looked at Penny again. "Where do you think you are Miss?"
"Through the looking glass." When one was a witch in the employ of a vampire trying to give a werewolf back his penis you accidentally stole from him, very few things freaked you out anymore. Being pushed through mirrors by dead friends hardly even managed a blip on her radar. The lunch pail rattled again. Obviously the sedative had worn off.
"A regular Alice in Wonderland." He chuckled, "Well... Welcome to the island."
The first thing that Penny thought of was Fantasy Island and suddenly she had odd mental image of a midget running around yelling, "The Plane, the plane." Somehow though, he didn't think that was what he was talking about. Still, a lady was never without her manners, especially in the company of a man with a gun. "Penny Dreadful," she said curtsying gracefully in her vintage 1970's dress.
Zechs bowed to her. "Zechs Marquise."
"Lovely to meet you," Penny replied forced to grapple the lunchpail with both hands to keep it from escaping her grasp. As fascinating as this conversation may be, she really need to get back to Ghirardelli Chocolate Factory. Carefully, she pushed against the mirror careful not to take her eyes off the blond.
"I am afraid, you cannot leave, once you arrive." he remarked softly, "This place, this island, we are all trapped."
"I have to," Penny protested. "I have something I need to return." With that the lunchpail's squirming grew too great for her to hold on to as well as her cat and she dropped it, the contents spilling all over the floor, most noticeable of which was a giant squirming penis.
Zechs arched an eyebrow, but appeared not very put off. "And this place gets stranger and stranger. I wonder what Noin would say."
Bending down, Penny quickly began repacking her lunch pail grabbing the wriggling member and stuffing it back in the metal pail. "As I said, I have property that needs to be returned," she said primly, or as primly as one could while manhandling a more than foot long bit of male anatomy into a lunchpail.
"Well, I guess whatever unlucky man is missing that important part is going to have to wait." He replied getting his things. On instinct he checked his gun. "What the hell?"
"I really don't want to anger, Brandon any more than I already did by stealing it. He may well do something rash, like kill my boss," Penny said. Standing she gripped the lunchpail firmly, Mister Mistoffelees perched upon her shoulder. "Is something wrong?" she asked arching an eyebrow.
"It's my gun. I carry it for protection. It looks as if it has been aged and not cared for in over a hundred years." He groaned.
That was probably her fault. Still, better not to point that out. Many people had problems with witches. Maybe not gay soldier ballerina men, but it was better not to test it. Penny kept her mouth shut on the subject and simply shrugged. At least he wouldn't be shooting her.
He chuckled a bit and dropped it into his bag. "She'd kick my ass for this."
"She?" Penny inquired still not sure entirely what was going on. Normally she would ask Mister Mistoffelees, but in this case she decided to forgo talking to her cat until she was somewhere a bit more private, especially since Mister Mistoffelees wasn't volunteering anything. Her familiar tended to have better judgment than she did in the case of when to reveal things and when to play to the mundane.
"My fiancee. She would be very upset if she saw this happened."
"Oh," Penny said not mentioning her earlier assumption. It was why she hadn't mentioned it in the first place. "I think she'd be more offended by the fact that you're having a conversation with a lady wearing tights."
"Noin? Oh, she knows I practice ballet. It's a stress reliever."
So it was. Penny supposed if it was good enough for football players it was good enough for soldiers. Still this line of conversation wasn't getting her anywhere and she really needed to get back, no matter what Norna said.
"Most men who carry my status in my world, they also practice ballet."
"Are they as defensive about it as you?" Penny asked having long since lost interest in the ballet issue and moved towards the door wondering if the rest of this place was as disappointingly mundane. She'd always though the world through the looking glass would be more interesting.
He looked towards the door. "Out you go then, the rest of the island awaits you Miss Dreadful."
Penny smiled and headed out into the gym glancing around at her surroundings. She'd been weirder places to be sure, the umbra around the Waydown when she was being chased by Jodi for one. Making her way through the maze like building she found herself on a beach on a balmy spring day. It didn't look that different from home. Maybe she wasn't as far as she thought.
Zechs watched her go and then looked down at his gun. He shook his head.
When: Mid afternoon
Where: The dance studio
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings: Male genitalia
Notes: Penny Dreadful spoilers
Summary: In which Penny fall through the Looking Glass, Zechs has a problem with aging, and objects fall out of purses
he last thing Penny expected to see when she entered Ghirardelli Square was herself, but there she was. Looking down to the black cat in her arms, she considered her options. “Mister Mistoffelees, what do you see at that table over there?”
“My old Mistress. And a big juicy rabbit.”
The Mistress part she understood, though the rabbit bit was odd. Ducking behind a pillar for a moment she contemplated her course of action. Obviously neither of the was Brandon and she still needed to get his property back. Lost in thought she didn’t even notice the waitress.
“You’re not the only one who’s skein is tangled. Fix it.” Norna’s voice but not, upon looking up, Penny noted, Norna’s body. Smiling at her, the waitress pushed her back into the mirror behind her.
Penny braced herself for a crash that never came. Instead she fell through the mirror... and into a large well appointed dance studio. Perhaps the blond wig was the wrong choice for today. She had become Alice through the looking glass. Penny glanced around the room, stroking her familiar.
There was soft classical music playing through the dance studio and a tall man with long pale, pale blonde hair was going through some ballet routines. The way he moved suggested that he had been doing this for a while. The music came to an end and he stopped moving. He knelt down and picked up a bottle of water. Before he could sip the water, he froze and then very slowly turned to face the woman who had fallen through the glass.
Fix it? What had she meant by that? Penny pushed the question to the back of her mind and looked over at the blond man. He was handsome to be sure, but life in San Francisco had taught her that most long haired dancers were gay. Kind of a pity really. “Sorry,” Penny said with a graceful curtsy. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your practice.” Hopefully he hadn’t noticed her unorthodox entrance.
"It's quite all right Miss. We get this a lot." Zechs looked her up and down and then shrugged a bit. She was nice looking, but he was engaged. "People arrive in the strangest of fashions on the island." He knelt down and pulled out his gun, something he always kept on him, and then checked the ammunition. Still a full clip... Setting it back down, he rose, tossing the loose braid over one shoulder.
At the sight of the gun, Penny stumbled back to the mirror whispering a prayer to Saint Margaret of Antioch, the patron saint of women. Pretty, gay, and homicidal, that seemed just about her speed today. Hopefully he wasn't a vampire too. Inside of Zechs' gun the bullets and the clip corroded and aged as if centuries passed in seconds.
"I'm not going to harm you. I'm a soldier." he said softly.
Because that made things so much better and soldiers never shot anyone. "I didn't know the military had a dance squad," Penny replied primly. Better always to remember one's manners when in a threatening situation. She didn't want to give him reason to use that firearm after all. Still, he said it was common, but that didn't mean it was treated as a good thing. In her hand, her lunch pail rattled, a reminder that she still needed to get Brandon his property back.
With a chuckle, Zechs looked at Penny again. "Where do you think you are Miss?"
"Through the looking glass." When one was a witch in the employ of a vampire trying to give a werewolf back his penis you accidentally stole from him, very few things freaked you out anymore. Being pushed through mirrors by dead friends hardly even managed a blip on her radar. The lunch pail rattled again. Obviously the sedative had worn off.
"A regular Alice in Wonderland." He chuckled, "Well... Welcome to the island."
The first thing that Penny thought of was Fantasy Island and suddenly she had odd mental image of a midget running around yelling, "The Plane, the plane." Somehow though, he didn't think that was what he was talking about. Still, a lady was never without her manners, especially in the company of a man with a gun. "Penny Dreadful," she said curtsying gracefully in her vintage 1970's dress.
Zechs bowed to her. "Zechs Marquise."
"Lovely to meet you," Penny replied forced to grapple the lunchpail with both hands to keep it from escaping her grasp. As fascinating as this conversation may be, she really need to get back to Ghirardelli Chocolate Factory. Carefully, she pushed against the mirror careful not to take her eyes off the blond.
"I am afraid, you cannot leave, once you arrive." he remarked softly, "This place, this island, we are all trapped."
"I have to," Penny protested. "I have something I need to return." With that the lunchpail's squirming grew too great for her to hold on to as well as her cat and she dropped it, the contents spilling all over the floor, most noticeable of which was a giant squirming penis.
Zechs arched an eyebrow, but appeared not very put off. "And this place gets stranger and stranger. I wonder what Noin would say."
Bending down, Penny quickly began repacking her lunch pail grabbing the wriggling member and stuffing it back in the metal pail. "As I said, I have property that needs to be returned," she said primly, or as primly as one could while manhandling a more than foot long bit of male anatomy into a lunchpail.
"Well, I guess whatever unlucky man is missing that important part is going to have to wait." He replied getting his things. On instinct he checked his gun. "What the hell?"
"I really don't want to anger, Brandon any more than I already did by stealing it. He may well do something rash, like kill my boss," Penny said. Standing she gripped the lunchpail firmly, Mister Mistoffelees perched upon her shoulder. "Is something wrong?" she asked arching an eyebrow.
"It's my gun. I carry it for protection. It looks as if it has been aged and not cared for in over a hundred years." He groaned.
That was probably her fault. Still, better not to point that out. Many people had problems with witches. Maybe not gay soldier ballerina men, but it was better not to test it. Penny kept her mouth shut on the subject and simply shrugged. At least he wouldn't be shooting her.
He chuckled a bit and dropped it into his bag. "She'd kick my ass for this."
"She?" Penny inquired still not sure entirely what was going on. Normally she would ask Mister Mistoffelees, but in this case she decided to forgo talking to her cat until she was somewhere a bit more private, especially since Mister Mistoffelees wasn't volunteering anything. Her familiar tended to have better judgment than she did in the case of when to reveal things and when to play to the mundane.
"My fiancee. She would be very upset if she saw this happened."
"Oh," Penny said not mentioning her earlier assumption. It was why she hadn't mentioned it in the first place. "I think she'd be more offended by the fact that you're having a conversation with a lady wearing tights."
"Noin? Oh, she knows I practice ballet. It's a stress reliever."
So it was. Penny supposed if it was good enough for football players it was good enough for soldiers. Still this line of conversation wasn't getting her anywhere and she really needed to get back, no matter what Norna said.
"Most men who carry my status in my world, they also practice ballet."
"Are they as defensive about it as you?" Penny asked having long since lost interest in the ballet issue and moved towards the door wondering if the rest of this place was as disappointingly mundane. She'd always though the world through the looking glass would be more interesting.
He looked towards the door. "Out you go then, the rest of the island awaits you Miss Dreadful."
Penny smiled and headed out into the gym glancing around at her surroundings. She'd been weirder places to be sure, the umbra around the Waydown when she was being chased by Jodi for one. Making her way through the maze like building she found herself on a beach on a balmy spring day. It didn't look that different from home. Maybe she wasn't as far as she thought.
Zechs watched her go and then looked down at his gun. He shook his head.