|Florence Trumper stands by her champion (notachesspiece) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2013-03-06 23:13:00
|florence trumper, svetlana sergievsky
Who: Svetlana Sergievsky and Florence Trumper
What: The ladies of Chess have had enough of all the things and are instead partaking in wine...trust me, we were surprised, too
When: Tonight, we'll say
Where: The Trumpers'
Warnings: A drunken Russian ice queen and a drunken Hungarian born British girl...isn't that warning enough, really?
As far as Florence was concerned, with evil quite literally on their doorstep, they could have spent another week or more enjoying their anniversary. Unfortunately, Freddie's career, and her own by proxy, came first. And she might not have been a fighter by any means, but she refused to let this place take this from him. This was his chance and she was going to do everything in her power to see that he got it. She was typically pretty good at staying under the radar of whatever Evil of the Week was hanging around. As long as she could get Freddie to keep his mouth shut, they'd be fine, right? They could go back to Lawrence easily enough, Freddie could keep his engagements and get some more practice in... It would be okay.
Of course, she hadn't factored in Andy getting cursed. Or him getting far too close to the origins of who she was to him. Or had been to him. And her desperate need to help him still brimming at the surface. She knew her saying something would do absolutely nothing for Andy. If anything, it was more likely to get him cursed worse. Or hurt Freddie, and Florence would do anything to keep that from happening.
There was literally nothing she could do except try and talk some sense into Charlie, help take care of her blinded not!son, and wait it out. And sometimes, being an ordinary mortal from a theatrical musical was really, really awful.
To say nothing of her own current fears that the little family she'd so desperately hoped for would never happen. It had been a year since their marriage, two months since he'd told her he was ready to start trying for a baby, and...nothing. And it wasn't like she was getting any younger. Had she waited too long? Or was she just being ridiculous and it was a longer process than all of this? She didn't even know but it scared her. Maybe 'picking up the strays', as Freddie called it, was the closest she'd ever get to being a mother.
So she was more than a little stressed when she heard the knock on the door. She glanced towards the door to the bedroom, but Freddie was locked away, possibly already having gone to sleep but more likely, he was engrossed in some play that he would work on obsessively until he could come out with his head held high in victory. So she pulled herself to her feet, the novel she'd been reading abandoned on the coffee able.