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Lady Anne Boleyn ([info]unworthiness) wrote in [info]colligo_threads,
@ 2009-06-30 13:46:00

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Entry tags:!open

WHO: Anne Boleyn & OPEN
WHAT: trying to understand what's going on
WHERE: streets near the library
WHEN: shortly after her arrival and unintentional network voice post
RATING: TBA
STATUS: in progress

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Anne was up in arms over this ordeal. Hadn't she been put through enough torment? She was tired of the games and the nonsense and the tricks and the flourishings--but no, life was never that easy, especially not for subjects of the English Court and a woman who was both a Boleyn and a Howard. So much was expected of her and here, she could not accomplish it. Of course, that was given she believed where she was and when she was.

Which she did not.

What sort of fool did these people think she was? She was not the sort of simpering idiot who batted their lashes and spread their legs to anyone or bought such a tall tale of a story spun from obvious false threads. This wasn't real. It wasn't. She...had been kidnapped or was dreaming or hallucinating. Any one of those and possibly something else that wasn't reality.

She stared at the object in hand which she had willed herself to pick up off the ground after eying it from afar for sometime, not sure quite what to think about the fact that the voices she kept hearing were coming from it and not from actual people. She wasn't quite sure what to think about that, but if she were dreaming or experiencing some sort of post-sweating sickness hallucination...then, well, her mind had gotten much more creative over the years than she gave herself credit for.

The question she faced now was: What next? Where was she to go? To do? Should she wait here on the steps of this library and hope that Henry noticed her absence and sent someone looking for her? Would he look for her or just assume she had decided not to return his affections and move on to another young, pretty mistress? Not that Anne considered herself his mistress; she refused to be the maîtresse en titre. She was not Bessie Blount or her sister, Mary.

A hand came up and smoothed back over her hair as the young woman let out a heavy sigh. "I suppose it would not do me much harm," she decided with a heavy sigh, placing the odd object in a pocket on her gown as she stood and began walking down the street towards...well, she didn't quite know yet.



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[info]itllbeokay
2009-06-30 10:06 pm UTC (link)
Sam was walking down the streets with his hands in his pockets; not quite managing to convince himself against the merits of alcohol and actually finding himself considering Amanda's offer to talk. Sam had long ago learned the merits of talking, discovering that bottling it up only did himself and those around him arms. He was quite honest when he could be and he always tried get out what he could from the get go. However, at the same time, there was still a part of him that found satisfaction in either ignoring a situation or burying it deep with alcohol (he'd long given up on violence as a way ... or he tried to). Which was why more often than not, Sam found himself self-weaving between two options and meandering with his hands in his pockets.

Currently, he was strongly, strongly, leaning towards the alcohol. Because seriously? No amount of talking would resolve issues, that he was pretty sure he had dealt with. Help him accept the fact that yes, he was getting to see his family again (what a very big part of him had always wanted) but his mom was five years younger than he was ... and his dad, George Kirk, was actually alive. That was .. like Sam had told Jim, there weren't words or emotions to describe exactly what any of that was.

Then there was Frank. Frank, Jesus. If he found out where Frank was, Sam was pretty sure he'd come pretty close to doing something he'd regret. Doing something he hadn't had the will or the shape to do since he was twenty-two. Because, really. He was twenty-eight. He was starting to feel some things, courtsey from heavy lifting, heavy things falling onn him, and constantly working on cars. Still, any of that would have been worth knocking Frank's lights out. Fucking asshole, hurting his mother.

Sighing, Sam hunched his shoulders a bit more as he continued to walk down the street. This was going to be one hell of a stay, that much he was certain.

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[info]unworthiness
2009-07-06 02:59 pm UTC (link)
Odd. For a city that gave the illusion that it was full of life, it seemed to be terribly barren -- though, perhaps that was just the area Anne happened to be frequenting or the hour of the day. She wouldn't blame them for being indoors, for Anne found the weather to be dry and far too warm for her tastes, even in the gown that left her shoulders bare. Her blue eyes tilted up towards the sky as she walked to eye the brightness of the sun, hoping that her pale skin would not redden or darken; she prided herself on her soft, pale features and they way they contrasted against her dark hair. She would very much like to keep it that way.

The viscountess' mistake was looking up and not at where she was going, for she soon bumped into a poor, unsuspecting stranger.

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[info]itllbeokay
2009-07-15 07:02 pm UTC (link)
"I'm sorry." Sam instantly said, even if it was obvious that it hadn't been his fault. He'd learned long ago that an apology was the easiest way to diffuse a situation, no matter who was responsible. And quite honestly he wasn't in the mood to get into an argument with a stranger. As soon as the apology went out, so did his hands, as he righted the woman who'd bumped into him.

It was only because Sam's thoughts were slowing down his brain, that kept him from commenting on his attire, and then making this entire situation into something that truly would be his fault. As it was he blinked, perhaps rather stupidly at what she was wearing. Why the hell was she wearing something like that at the middle of the day? Was there some kind of play in this place? As it was, Sam pushed the thought aside as he let go of her arms, letting his arms drop to his side. "Alright there?" He asked.

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[info]unworthiness
2009-07-18 01:48 pm UTC (link)
Anne, perhaps one of the most graceful ladies to ever walk the halls of Greenwich Palace during any man's reign, quickly righted herself. She pushed hair back and off her shoulders and smoothed out the folds of her skirts, lifting her blue eyes to the man whom she'd collided with, hands going out to grasp either side of her gown as she dipped for the briefest of moments, dropping that gaze to the ground as she said, "I do apologize, good sir, the fault was mine."

Raising herself back up, Anne folded her hands together in front of her and brought her gaze back up once more. She found his attire to be most odd...yet, somehow, it seemed to fit this strange city better than her dress did. She wasn't a fool. She didn't belong here and she knew it. There were thousands of things pointing out this very fact that were difficult to ignore.

She nodded. "Aside from not knowing where I am or how I came to be here, I am quite alright."

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[info]itllbeokay
2009-07-23 05:48 pm UTC (link)
Sam blinked. And blinked again when she .. did she just courtsey? That's what they called it right? Because it sure as hell had never been done to him before. He stared for a moment and it took him a while to realize he was staring like a big idiot. This place seemed to get stranger by the minute.

"We both probably shoulda been paying more attention to where we were going." He said honestly, with a small smile that widened at her next words. At least one of them was, quite alright. "You're in Colligo." He said, rather unhelpfully he felt. "I don't know much about it myself, other than that this nifty thing." He pulled out his PDA from his pocket. "Tells me where I'm supposed to stay and that if I show it at a bank I can get some ... money." That was so strange. Money. They still used money. He did remember people saying something like that in the history classes he'd barely paid any attention too.

Then Sam looked thoughtfully at her, "What are the chances that, that's not a costume?" That she hadn't come from a costume party and that she probably knew less about 21st centuary bartering system than he did.

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