Molly wasn't panicking. Panicking got you killed.
But none of the information she was trying to sort through made any sense at all? Why was she in what could only be described as a cheesy sci-fi cybersleep pod and why did this slime smell so strongly of peppermint? Come to think of why the heck wasn't she in Illinois anymore?
Come on, Molly, you're a wizard - or something almost like it. If it doesn't make sense, change your perspective. Sherlock Holmes it. If all that you were left with was impossible facts...
It didn't feel like the Fomor. If they had managed to capture her, Molly was pretty sure they would have killed her. But there wasn't any kind of magical energies anywhere in this place; in fact the overwhelming amount of metal and technology made her feel a little bit nervous. Nervous in the 'mad scientist' and 'government experiment' and 'I wonder how long it will take for my magic to screw up something really important' kind of way.
The best plan was obviously to wait in the cell and pretend to be even more helpless than she was until someone came along she could interrogate.
The obvious problem with this plan? Those noises from the walls didn't sound good and everything was just a little too warm, even in a shapeless gray shirt with an eyebrow-raising hemline. The lights started flickering: That was never a good sign.
Okay, last straw, camel's back broken, Molly wasn't that good at waiting around and pretending to be helpless anymore anyway. She would crack the door opened and give it five minutes. Five minutes before she would start to explore.
She knew she had to be careful about an over-reliance on magic, especially surrounded by so much technology, but she wasn't going to be stupid either. Harry was alive, she hadn't killed him, he would be coming back and she wanted to live to see it. She cast a veil and a semblance, the urge to come in closer, and had the illusion go wait in the corner. If no one took the bait, then she'd use it to scout ahead of her while she followed, veiled, behind her.
But none of the information she was trying to sort through made any sense at all? Why was she in what could only be described as a cheesy sci-fi cybersleep pod and why did this slime smell so strongly of peppermint? Come to think of why the heck wasn't she in Illinois anymore?
Come on, Molly, you're a wizard - or something almost like it. If it doesn't make sense, change your perspective. Sherlock Holmes it. If all that you were left with was impossible facts...
It didn't feel like the Fomor. If they had managed to capture her, Molly was pretty sure they would have killed her. But there wasn't any kind of magical energies anywhere in this place; in fact the overwhelming amount of metal and technology made her feel a little bit nervous. Nervous in the 'mad scientist' and 'government experiment' and 'I wonder how long it will take for my magic to screw up something really important' kind of way.
The best plan was obviously to wait in the cell and pretend to be even more helpless than she was until someone came along she could interrogate.
The obvious problem with this plan? Those noises from the walls didn't sound good and everything was just a little too warm, even in a shapeless gray shirt with an eyebrow-raising hemline. The lights started flickering: That was never a good sign.
Okay, last straw, camel's back broken, Molly wasn't that good at waiting around and pretending to be helpless anymore anyway. She would crack the door opened and give it five minutes. Five minutes before she would start to explore.
She knew she had to be careful about an over-reliance on magic, especially surrounded by so much technology, but she wasn't going to be stupid either. Harry was alive, she hadn't killed him, he would be coming back and she wanted to live to see it. She cast a veil and a semblance, the urge to come in closer, and had the illusion go wait in the corner. If no one took the bait, then she'd use it to scout ahead of her while she followed, veiled, behind her.