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[Aug. 18th, 2009|02:05 am] |
Who: Alice Tsung and Lyle Bennet
When: Evening
Where: Small park in England
What: fight training
To be frank, the only reason Alice was even here was because he was paying her. She didn't hate this guy or anything, didn't even know him, and it wasn't like she had anything really important at the moment. She just didn't think much of giving lessons for free.
So now she was in the park, just as it was reaching evening, though in America it would still be noon. Dressed in dark colored athletic clothes, she waited for this guy to arrive.
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| The soul of this man is his clothes |
[Aug. 18th, 2009|06:53 am] |
Who: Geoffrey Tennant, Ellen Fanshaw
What: You realise I haven't got anything to wear?
Where: Luton, England
When: The morning after this post.
Warnings: Very likely swearing
Ellen has, much to her relief, found a dressing gown: a yukata covered with fire-breathing dragons wandering through thickets of bamboo. It's far too large for her petite frame, but she's grateful for the concealment ... or, as she prefers to think of it, mystery.
However, she's going to need more than a dressing gown this morning. Her clothes are somewhere downstairs. Scattered all over the hallway, unless Geoffrey's done something with them, which he probably hasn't. There must be something here she can wear. Otherwise she'll have to put on the clothes she was wearing yesterday and see about returning to Chicago and seeing what--what was that name on the ID again ... oh, yes. Myrtle Groggins, cosmetologist. She shudders at the thought. Myrtle Groggins. No.
The bedroom closet is certainly spacious. She's had dressing rooms smaller than this walk-in closet ... with all the shirts arranged by colour, from pale pink to deepest violet. And the collection of men's shoes. She didn't have this many shoes. She wonders if the extra dresser is dedicated to socks and coordinating cravats.
"Geoffrey?" she calls out. "Are you sure there's no Oliver?" |
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[Aug. 18th, 2009|10:38 am] |
Who: Henn & Sable
Where: Sign of the Weasel
When: Monday night
Why: To clear up some things
Warnings: ZOMG TEH AAAANGST
( Long log is long ) |
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[Aug. 18th, 2009|01:15 pm] |
Who: Anne of Cleves, Henry Tudor
What: some serious talking to
Where: Outside of her office in LA
When: a few days after the bachelor party fiasco
Warnings: maybe some mild swearing at the most
When Anna received a message from Henry, she wasn't really sure what to think. If it was good news he would've told her himself, or at the very least used a more personal means of communication other than a text. On the other hand, it didn't show any hints that it was especially distressing either.
She did feel guilty about not always keeping in contact with those from her century as much as she should've, but truthfully, she didn't want to. Keeping to herself was what kept her alive in Germany and at the English court, and such old habits were hard to break. Nonetheless, Henry had always been generous with her, especially after the divorce when he could've just as easily cut all ties with her. In those ways he was more a brother to her than William and therefor it was only right that she atleast hear what he had to say.
After placing her assistant in charge for the afternoon, Anna left her office and waited for Henry to arrive. She kept a quick eye out because there was the chance that he may be in disguise and she could almost laugh at the thought of Henry and his love of costumes: whereas before it was simply for fun, now it really was for the need to hide his celebrity. |
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