To the Captain

The past two weeks of rehearsal have been interesting as far as "serious" character development has gone. Last week I found Anne's deep want. This week, I discovered why she hangs around Frobisher. The question of if Anne had any real loyalty to Frobisher/ why does she stay with him came up.

It's not because he pays her well, because he doesn't.
It's not because he's a respectful, understanding, charitable human being...because that's not really Frobisher.
So I'm going to let you all read her answer in her own words, a bit more eloquent than the answer that I fished up at the time.

Anne's Words-

Wherefore do I remain in the service of Captain Frobisher? If you wish a honest and true answer you must give me your solemn word that you shall not disclose this information to him. For I do not think that I could face him if he did hold the knowledge of my great debt to him.
It is no secret to me that my guise and great pretend is hardly a disguise at all. While some do seek to keep me in a woman's place, or jail, I am relieved that there are many more who simply ignore the fact displayed in front of them.
Except the Captain. My Captain, it does seem, remains blind despite all manner of blunders and accidents that have transpired during the time I have been in his employ as his apprentice. There are times as such when he does slip and call me by the name of "Mr. Drew" and then a blank look crosses his face and we do resume our normal camaraderie. I cannot therefore say for certain that his is completely unaware of my true self. And I find that I do owe him my loyalty for that fact alone, that he willfully (as least, I so do assume) remains blind and chooses to believe that I, Anne Drew, am Andrew. It is by this belief on his part that I do remain as his apprentice until such a time when I have completed said apprenticeship, or some other fate does befall me (may that never come to pass, for I can think of many an unpleasant ending).
Do I wish that my Captain might one day be able to accept me as his apprentice without this great pretend? I do suppose that I wish that no matter who my master would be. However, just by the fact that he has not thrown me off of his ship for good, or killed me, or worse, is enough for the time being. I do think well of the Captain for all of his eccentric ways.

Now keep these words to yourself or else I shall cause you a mischief so that you will not easily rise from your bed for a sen'night at the least!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So thank you to Steve- who gave me this question. And thank you to my cast for giving me a set of Hot Seat questions that almost stumped me and actually made me think. Too often I've gotten the superficial questions and this week you all gave me doozies that I am still grappling with and thinking about. Anne is not one to open up often about certain parts of her life, but I'm glad fro the chance to explore.

Anne's Want

Well...wonder of wonders, I've found Anne's SuperObjective. Yes this is a big and scary looking word and has often been the bane of my existence when creating characters.

The question- What does your character want most?

That question made me stop and think for a minute because it's not really about a material or superficial thing. Some superficial things came to my mind as I tried to sort through Anne's layers (Shrek onion moment!).
- Anne wants to be paid. Okay that's nice, but that's not the only thing she wants. Anne would like a warm cloak too but that's not really a deep and burning wants.
- Anne wants to be captain one day. Gee that's great too, but that's more of an external ambition that might change as she "grows up" (since Anne will never really grow up enough to become a Captain- her storyline is placed at Ship's Boy status indefinitely).

I passed a few other ideas through my head before this particular thought popped into my brain. "Where does Anne able to be just Anne?"
The answer is a little bit sad. Anne doesn't really have a home or a place that she can just be Anne Drew (or Anne FitzHawkyns/FitzJohn). She doesn't have a place where she can belong without being questioned. The mere fact that she is obviously a girl dressing in man's clothing makes people question her.
Anne loves being a sailor. She loves the freedom and adventure that going on voyages brings. She loves the community that is on ship.

What Anne wants most of all is a place in the world where she can do what she loves without society judging her and forbidding her from doing whatever it is.

The character who happens to give Anne a chance at that is a rather unlikely character. His name is Lefty. He just wants Anne to be happy. He just wants everyone to be happy. He sees Anne for who she is and he accepts her without question as to why she's trying to perform a man's job, and dressing in male clothing.
In return, Anne notices Lefty. Not many people do. Anne not only notices Lefty, but when the Gabriel is in port at Bristol Anne tries to seek Lefty out and make sure he's eating something more than pine cones and grass.

So to put it simply as possible for the moment (I'll continue to par it down as the season goes on).

Anne wants to belong somewhere without needing to comprise herself.

Ship Shape and Shaping Up

Went to Janesville this weekend.

Firstly, it was AWESOME! I loved being back as AnneDrew, the pants I made worked out very well, and I spent two days with people who make me feel normal.

However, I seemed to have either pushed the envelope a few times, or I'm just not in as great shape as I thought I was.

It's possible that both are true. I've been battling a lot of stress lately and haven't been able to eat properly for the past week or so. I was only able to eat one meal without trouble this weekend. So I snacked a lot and drank a lot of water. That is how I usually eat at Faire, so I wasn't sure why I was having issues.
Possibly the issue is that I haven't had the rehearsal month of walking around and getting used to the heat and acclimating myself. Instead I threw myself into 70+ degrees of heat and added humidity. However, I made it through each day without coming close to going down. A few rough spots, yes, but nothing that I would label as serious.

So now I have to evaluate my level of physical fitness. To most people, I look really fit. For the most part I am very fit. I dance, I walk and jog a little, I stretch, and do my best to eat healthy. Now I'm considering endurance training of some sort. Swimming would be a great option for summer, and better for my joints than running on a treadmill.

Now for the Bright Side of things.

I really like where AnneDrew seemed to be going this weekend. I noted some things that I need to improve on and learn, but overall I was pleased with the direction that Anne's character took. I think that the word "spunky" and "underdog" was mentioned more that a few times. By the end of the season last year AnneDrew was only starting to get her confidence, she was still very wary of being discovered. This whole weekend AnneDrew wasn't concerned at all, in fact, she was confident and assured about her place. Sure she'd joke about becoming Captain, but she's content to be Apprentice/Ship's Boy for the moment. I think she'd make a good life for herself in time.

A while back I said I was going to figure out what exactly I wanted to do with this blog. I've made a Facebook page for AnneDrew to do some fun stuff, I'm planning on working on my ship vocabulary through some posts there. I'm working on some stories (some of which were told for the first time at Janesville) that will be posted here and this blog will keep on as a record of my Ren Faire Adventures. I'll try to put some historical articles and essays up here as well, and updates will always be linked through my Facebook Anne-Drew Page. My other performance opportunities. For those and the rest of my adventures head on over to my other blog- Astonishing.

So- if you want to get updates from this blog- go and "like" my Anne-Drew page! It would mean a lot for you to support me as I continue my fledgeling career.

---Kait (Anne-Drew)

Peaking Around the Corner

With a breath of spring air, I feel suddenly.....

homesick.

Bristol is calling like the sea calls to the sailor. I hear piped tunes in my head and sea shanties are on repeat in my mind all the live long day. I'm longing for the day when I can dig out my notes and history books on Tudor England and dive back into something that I love learning about. Maybe I'll actually master those knots this year.

I've been away from this blog for too long. Life has explode and I've had good reason to put Anne (and my other characters) on the back burner so that I can take care of reality. I'm still "taking care of reality." In other words, college finals are in two weeks and I have a 15 page paper to write for my history class, and a few things for my acting class that sort of take precedence over AnneDrew. Sorry dearest Anne.

However, that doesn't mean I'm not daydreaming about the stories I want to tell, or that I'm not planning and thinking about the upcoming Bristol season.

I feel like I could do more with Anne. Maybe something slightly more educational? Like essays or little fact filled posts? Maybe a short series of pirate lingo lessons. It doesn't really have to be too serious.

Things I have done for Anne-
I've made my first Anne costume! Last year I started amassing the things I needed to make my sailor costume and with one shirt that I purchased at the Faire (quality over my poor sewing skills), a jacket turned into a doublet from Goodwill, and a sewn pair of PANTS that I am very proud of, I have made my AnneDrew costume.

I want to get back to Bristol. I know it's only a month away and there's a faire in between that, and a few other delightful things coming up this May. Anne is starting to tap her foot and look at me like I'm neglecting her. After school is over I shall have time!
And more posts!
And a plan for this blog!

Until 14 days from now!

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas Anne went to bed and had, Twelve Odd Dreams.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas Anne went to bed and had, Twelve Odd Dreams.

“Got yourself into another scrape?” Hawkyns couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at his daughter’s predicament.

“Just untie me please.” Anne muttered. Hawkyns cut the bonds around Anne’s wrists and ankles and she managed to wriggle out of the rest. “I think I’ve had enough for one night.” From the look of it, many people had already had enough fun for one night. Frobisher was nowhere to be seen, probably upstairs in one of the rented rooms. She’d have to make her way back to the ship on her own. It weren’t too far a walk.

The swaying of the ship usually sent Anne into a dreamless sleep that she would wake from just in time to take her watch on deck, but that dreamless quality that Anne held dear eluded her.

Anne’s dreams began back in the small room her mother rented. Anne had grown up in this Inn, the only child of several floozies who rented rooms. The whole house was empty of people. The streets were silent. In her dream, Anne ran down the stair and stepped out into Fleet Street.

The moment that her feet would have touched the road, the streets of London transformed into a forest. Out of nowhere, Robin Hood and his Merry Men came racing through yelling about the sheriff being on their heels. Anne didn’t waste any time in following Robin through the maze of trees.

Just as Will Scarlet was giving Anne a hand up into the branches of one of the trees, the branches became ropes and Anne was back on the Gabriel, tossing in a gale. This dream wasn’t so unfamiliar, there had been one or two storms at sea during Anne’s voyages. She gripped a knife between her teeth so that she could cut the lines. One faulty step, and Anne was sent tumbling down into the sea.

Remarkably, Anne found that she could breathe underwater, as one often can in dreams. Sirens swam around her and reached out their arms. They pulled Anne through the waters towards the surface and Anne crawled out onto a sunny shore of someplace that looked a bit like Italy (if Anne ever knew what Italy might look like).

A group of people surrounded the gasping young woman. Their facial features was so exaggerated that they almost seemed to be wearing masks. Anne couldn’t understand their strangely accented speech, but after a few moments Anne was hoisted into a hay filled cart and the group started out on a journey of some sorts.

As she was being pulled, Anne swore that she saw fey folk trailing them along the road. A blue fish like fey sat next to her in the cart and few bubbles in her face. Anne’s limbs felt so heavy that she couldn’t brush him away. Pan, eating a pretzel, appeared not too long after, making faces as he consumed the salty snack.

The worst was yet to come as more fey folk joined Anne in the cart, then proceeded to pick up the cabin “boy” and fly off. The flight itself was terrible, but Anne could have sworn that she had seen the Normyl sisters somewhere in the sky during her flight.

The fey folk set Anne back down in Bristol in the middle of a great crowd of foreign looking people. Merchants sold and hawked their wares under a blistering summer sun. Performers mingled and showed their tricks and pieces. The rat catcher delighted children with a trick where he made a mouse pop out of a book. Anne wandered around until she tripped and found herself face down in the dust of the street at the feet of some high born lady.

Looking up, Anne gazed into the face of none other than Queen Elizabeth herself. Scrambling to pick herself up off of the ground, Anne bowed low and hoped to high heaven that she hadn’t committed any serious faux pas. Daring to look up, Anne now stared into the face of a rather spectral dark figure that moved without sound. They were all about the town of Bristol, and shivers ran up Anne’s spine. One of them touched her and Anne’s world went dark.

Opening her eyes, Anne found her next dream world to be in Captain Frobisher’s cabin. Captain Frobisher was throwing out all of the ship’s rum, insisting that it was from the devil himself and should not be aboard any self respecting English ship. Anne knew that this had to be a dream, there was no way that Captain Frobisher would ever throw out any booze of any sort. Anne hurried from the cabin into an even stranger scenario.

Outside on the deck of the Gabriel the crew were fighting with what appeared to be most of the Draco disciples. The strange part of that scenario was that they were fighting with clothing fabric and seeing who could come up with the best gown for Queen Elizabeth within half of an hour. Debating whether or not to go back and help Captain Frobisher dispose of the rum (and stash some away for her own personal use), Anne looked over the side of the ship and promptly was shoved overboard for the second time in her dreams.  

This time Anne fell into a mass of fluffy pillows, or so it seemed. Sitting up, Anne found herself in one of the lovely but quite impractical noble’s dresses. Afternoon sunlight flooded the garden of some wealthy estate and another young lady dressed in a green gown similar to Anne’s was hurrying towards her.

“Anne!” She said in a very familiar voice, “Anne wake up!”

Anne opened her eyes, on Christmas Morn, to see a very disgruntled Crew assembled behind John the boatswain. “Anne wake up!”

“What?” Anne replied blearily, nearly falling out of her hammock. “Will said he’d take my watch for me!”

“It’s not about the watch lass,” John sighed. “Captain’s in jail again and we need you to get him out.” He handed Anne a dress and she sighed.

“I’m gonna kill him one of these days.” She threw the skirts on over her clothing and laced up the bodice. “Who’s got the money this time?” 

And it was back to business as normal. 

Fin. 

Well I hope you all enjoyed the most random thing I've ever written in my life. I hope it gives you giggles. I had fun writing this and it was a good lesson for me in keeping to something and seeing a self set deadline through, even if I finished two days late. Thanks for bearing with me. 

I'm probably going to let Anne cool off now that I've abused her character for this story. Possibly some Anya stories coming up, or just some random prose that has nothing to do with the characters that I've been playing. For some reason I'm much more protective of those characters than the ones that I act out. 

Once again, thanks for letting me post my rubbish.

On the Eleventh day of Christmas Lefty gave to me…Eleven pieces of Rope!

On the Eleventh day of Christmas Lefty gave to me…Eleven pieces of Rope!

Inside the Duck once again, Anne was pulled aside by Lefty, the Inglesman. Another employee of Jasper Trustworthy, Lefty knew nothing of his background other than one day Jasper had found him in the streets and made him his assistant of some sort. Lefty’s reasoning for his being English was that he spoke what he called “Ingles” and therefore he must be English. However, Anne and most others, couldn’t help but wonder at Lefty’s nationality when he spoke Spanish and spoke with that particular accent.

“Anne Drew!” Lefty bounced up and down and Anne had to put a hand on Lefty’s shoulder to keep him still. “Want to see a trick?”

“All right.” Anne agreed with a little bit of misgiving. One could never tell what Lefty was going to do when he started one of his magic tricks. He was a very apt magician and the children gathered round to see what he was going to do.

Lefty started out by producing eleven pieces of rope. “We are going to have to tie you up!” Anne, despite her misgivings, let Lefty knot the ropes around her arms and legs. The children murmured among themselves and giggled as Anne made faces and tried not to get nervous as she lost movement abilities.

“Now what Lefty?” Anne tried to keep her voice civil. Lefty finished the last knot near Anne’s ankles and stepped back.

“I run away now!” He grinned and scampered off. The children erupted into laughter and Anne was at a loss as to how to fix the situation due to the fact that Lefty had also tied her wrists together. 

Fin. 

Sorry about the delay. Life got in the way again and I haven't been able to post until now. I guess I'll be finishing a day late, but I'm going to stick with this and get this challenge done!

On the Tenth Day of Christmas Anne went outside to see…Ten Lords a Leaping!

On the Tenth Day of Christmas Anne went outside to see…Ten Lords a Leaping!

“Anne!” Came a voice from Anne’s elbow. It was Maggie Pie, the pickpocket and employee of Jasper Trustworthy. “Come outside with us!” The young girl tugged at Anne’s sleeve and handed Anne a cloak and a pair of boots. Knowing better than to ask where the cloak or boots came from, Anne wrapped the fabric around her shoulders and pulled the shoes on her feet.

“What’s outside Maggie?”

“There’s some high born lords out there kicking around a ball on the ice!” Maggie led Anne out of the Dirty Duck Inn and they watched as some of the wealthier inhabitants of Bristol went sliding and leaping about on the icy patches of the streets.

“Want to go sliding?” Maggie asked.

“Why not?” Anne stepped out on the ice and slid a few feet. A memory of the arctic and the icy shores flashed through her mind. “Come on Maggie!”

Maggie slid a bit more cautiously than Anne, but within minutes the two girls were sliding about and throwing snow balls at the lords playing football. Some of the children of Bristol joined in and Anne found herself being tackled by many of the nipperkins from the Dirty Duck Inn.

“Watch my head!” She cried out as she allowed herself to be tugged to the ground. “All right all right, you’ve got me!”

Just then there came some sort of cry from the door of the Duck promising a hot beverage if the little ones would be ushered in. Anne and Maggie had their hands full rallying the anklebiters back into the warmth. It might have only been a quick fifteen minutes of skating, but it was worth the frozen noses and fingers. 

Fin. 

On the Ninth Day of Christmas there Just So Happened to Be, Nine Ladies Dancing!

On the Ninth Day of Christmas there Just So Happened to Be, Nine Ladies Dancing!

Anne endured the teasing jibes of her fellow sailors with the least amount of blushing that she could manage, which only made them tease her more about her “tumble” with Roxy. It was a well known fact that Anne liked to stay away from brothels, and Andrew always took flack for not visiting the houses of ill repute during shore time.

“So, you’re finally a man now are you Andrew?” Frobisher gave Anne such a hard slap her back that she almost choked on the mug of beer that had been handed to her moments before.

“I s’pose so Capt’n.” Anne rasped out as she caught her breath.

“Couldn’t let the men keep teasing you about being a girl.” Captain Hawkyns teased with a twinkle in his eye. Anne wrinkled her nose at her father and too a swig of beer.

“Exuse me.” Came the voice of young Daisy Crazy LeStrange, a member of the Bristol Buskin Frolic. The bells on her hat and belt jingled brightly as she bounced up and down with excitement. “We’re going to start dancing and need some men!”

“Come on Andrew!” Captain Frobisher dragged Anne from her seat. “Go dance with the girls.”

The menfolk helped to move most of the tables in the Dirty Duck Inn to the sides of the room, creating a fairly good-sized dance floor.

Those of the Bristol Buskin Frolic who played musical instruments pulled their various noise makers out from nowhere and a few more of musicians joined in starting with a lively reel.

While Daisy Crazy LeStrange dragged Anne into the dance, it soon became apparent that Anne Drew was the only “man” among the dancers. In fact, they seemed to be one lady short of ten dancers. Fiona LeSmitherfield the Fiddler was dancing in among the others while playing her fiddle.

As Anne hopped and twirled and chassed her way through the reel she wondered how much breath she’d have by the end of the dance. The musicians seemed to never want to end the weaving and turning melody. One by one dancers dropped out and were replaced by others. It came down to Daisy and Anne as the only two original dancers remaining.

Anne could hear the shouts of encouragement and teasing coming from her comrades, and she could see how Daisy was starting to tire out. Anne knew how to push through being tired from her days on the Gabriel. She also knew when to spin out of a dance, and now was not the time to be competitive.

Jumping out of the dance Anne added her voice to the triumphant cries congratulating Daisy on staying in the dance the longest. Daisy collapsed against a table and was surrounded by her friends laughing and hugging her.

The musicians gathered together for a few moments then started another country tune. Anne decided to sit out this one and catch her breath, there’d be time for more dancing later. 

Fin. 

Sorry about the short length of these last two posts. I'm battling something that's not quite a cold and writing's been tough, but I'm still plugging away! 

On the Eighth day of Christmas the Floozies Gave to Me…Eight Minutes Peace

On the Eighth day of Christmas the Floozies Gave to Me…Eight Minutes Peace

            Anne glance up (for once) at the diminutive Draco Disciple and tax collector, Vinz Clortho. “Heaven forbid you’d ever catch me breaking the law?”

            “And why would someone like you break the law?” Vinz questioned, peering over his round spectacles.

            “I don’t see how this is relevant to the occasion.” Anne avoided the question and looked to the floozies for assistance.

“Well,” Roxy Coxcomb drew a long puff from her pipe. “I think it’s a criminal offense to not be having any fun on Christmas.”

“Does Andrew want to have some fun?” Jezebel added, wiggling her…eyebrows.

Vinz frowned, but as the floozies proceeded to crack jokes about Anne’s supposed lack of experience and teaching the “lad” a thing or two, he slunk off to rejoin his fellow Dracos.

“That was nearly a disaster.” Anne sighed.

“It’s not quite over yet luv.” Chastity tilted her head towards a fairly irate Captain Frobisher.

“Can you distract him?” Anne pleaded. “I’m not going to make it through the night if the captain finds out.”

“Come with me,” Roxy brushed off her skirts and wrapped an arm around Anne’s waist. “I’m sure they’ll stop talkin’ now.”

Upstairs the din of the party was barely muffled. Anne could make out the sound of the Captains different laughs and the tunes that the Bristol Buskin Frolic was playing. She and Roxy sat in silence, waiting for a long enough time to pass before they went down among the party again. It'd been at least eight minutes.

“Any word of Fanny?” Anne asked from by the window, looking at the snow falling gently on the streets of Bristol.

“Nothing new,” Roxy sat of the edge of the bed. “Sorry dear.”

“S’alright.” Anne shrugged. “So how long do we need to stay up here before people will believe my lie again?” 

Fin.

On the Seventh Day of Christmas Anne managed to avoid…Seven potentially disastrous “out-ings”

On the Seventh Day of Christmas Anne managed to avoid…Seven potentially disastrous “out-ings”

Anne gripped the beam for dear life, hanging over a crowd of Bristol visitors and inhabitants. Thanks to Captain Drake, who had spotted the hiding place of the Cabin Boy, Anne was now giving those below her a fine view up her un-tucked shirt. This, however was not Anne’s most worrisome problem. There was the issue of how she’d actually get down from the beam.

The first problem was solved by Stretch the Sailor. Stretch was so tall that he was able to move under Anne Drew’s feet and shuffled to a supporting beam. Anne climbed down and quickly tucked her shirt back in, glancing around nervously. Most of the town of Bristol already knew her secret, but some remained a little ignorant on accounts of bad eyesight or simply not having met Anne before.

It was Estella’s expression in particular that Anne was worried about. The Draco was wavering between outrage and disappointment. Looking to do some damage control, Anne rushed over to the distraught Estella and whispered a hasty explanation in her ear.

“But you’re a girl!” Estella shouted above most of the din of the party. Unfortunately, Frobisher was in earshot and happened to turn his head towards the two young women at that very moment.

“What’s that?” He strode over in two steps. “Who’s a girl?”

“But…But…” Estella sputtered. Anne thought quick and ducked behind Frobisher and hurried to Hawkyns.

“We’ve got a problem.” Anne informed her father. “Estella knows I’m a girl and she’s about to tell Frobisher.”

“Captain Frobisher knows you’re a what Anne-Drew?” Captain Drake interjected. Since Anne had once thought that Captain Sir Francis Drake might have been her father at one time, she had never disillusioned him of the notion that she might not be male.

“I’ll explain later Francis.” Hawkyns ushered Anne away from a very confused Drake. “I’ll do damage control on Frobisher, keep by the rest of the crew for now.”

Anne found a spot by John T Hawser the Boatswain, Stretch the Sailmaker, and most of the BBF. There was a rousing round of a few dice games going on, and plenty of money was changing hands.

“Come to join us, lass?” John misspoke and Anne turned on her heel, looking for another crowd to seek safe haven with. There seemed to be quite a heated discussion between Estella and the other Dracos, with many furtive looks towards Anne. Hawkyns was still talking animatedly to Frobisher and Drake. Anne wondered if she’d last the night without another major mishap. The last time she had to out herself was when Frobisher almost took away her trouser privileges.

Surprisingly, the floozies of Bristol seemed to be low on business at the moment. Thinking that among the company of these women would be as safe as anywhere in the Duck, Anne sought a seat by Ginny Lightskirts, Jezebel Harlot, Roxy Coxbomb, and Chastity Trollop.

“I think Frobisher knows I’m a girl.” She groaned as she took her seat.

Jezebel looked up in surprise. “You’re a girl?”

“You didn’t know?” Anne raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I thought almost everyone but Frobisher knew!”

“Yes, luv.” Chastity agreed. “You’re a little too pretty to be a boy.”

“I’ve seen pretty boys before.” Roxy drawled around her pipe. “More than a few of them were girls too.”

“Besides,” Ginny comforted, “Frobisher never remembers these things for long.”

“True, but what if the Dracos catch me?”

“What if we catch you at what, Anne Drew?” Came the sneering voice of Vinz Clortho. Goosebumps erupted on Anne’s arms as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Now she was in for it. 

Fin

After yesterday's disaster of a failure to post (yes, that is a double negative), I thought something lighthearted that I enjoyed at Bristol would be best to write about. Out-ing Anne was honestly one of my favorite bits and 7 outings in one post was quite the achievement when you're working with a two page limit. Count them, there are 7.

Apologies.

Apologies to you all reading my Bristol Christmas stories.
Sometimes, even with the best of intentions and personal goals, life comes in and says "You're not doing this today."

Please let me assure you that all circumstances are external and not because I gave up on the "post every day" rule I set for myself. It simply was not possible for me to write a full length post.

Hopefully tomorrow everything will be back on board and there will be another post- if for some reason I need to put my Bristol Christmas away for now I promise posts as soon as I am able.

My apologies,
The Author.

On the Sixth Day of Christmas, The Criers Gave To Me…Six Hiding Places.

On the Sixth Day of Christmas, The Criers Gave To Me…Six Hiding Places.

Anne quiet moment would not last. Once again the door of the Dirty Duck Inn burst open and a horde of Draco Disciples burst in with a flurry of cold air and snow, Estella Foxglove among them.

Leaving her mug on the nearest table, Anne darted for the first hiding place she could find, beneath Dorcas Oddpick’s skirts.

“What are you doing?” Dorcas hitched up her skirts and kicked the cabin boy out from under them.

“Um…” Anne thought fast. “I’m playing a game, want to play?”

“What kind of game?”

“Hide and seek. We’re going to hide from Estella Foxglove and the other Dracos.”

“Foxgloves are pretty flowers.”

“And poisonous!” Anne dove beneath the stairs as Estella and Vinz Clortho came their way. Dorcas didn’t follow and Anne hoped that the Towne Crier would have the presence of mind to not say anything to Estella.  

“Estella!” Dorcas cried out to the Draco. “We’re playing a game!”

Anne cursed herself for saying anything to Dorcas. She was a very sweet girl, but sometimes she seemed more than a little absent minded. Anne spotted Dorcas’ fellow crier, Emmaraude A’Right about to pass the stairs and tugged at the passing crier’s skirt.

“Psst, Emmaraude.” She hissed. The crier sank down and grinned in greet.

“How now Anne Drew?”

Anne tugged Emmaraude into her hiding place. “I need to keep away from Estella and Dorcas keeps giving away my hiding places.”

“Hide behind me and we’ll see if Harold can help!” Emmaraude moved quickly with Anne shrinking behind the towne crier towards Harold, who was in conversation with Jasper Trustworthy, man of many (questionable) business enterprises.

“Harold! Jasper!” Emmaraude, ever a ray of sunshine, interrupted. “Know any good hiding places?”

“What for?” Jasper’s eyes roved about, as if he was taking in all of the possible places where he had hidden various objects. “How large are we talking.”

“For Anne Drew. She’s trying to avoid the Dracos.” Emmaraude pulled Anne from her stooped position and Anne crossed her arms.

“I can think of one hiding place…” Harold winked at Anne and her hand went to the short knife at her belt without hesitation.

“Mine’s sharper, and will do more damage.” She retorted.

“There’s always the lake.” Jasper suggested. “We could always tie you to a rock.”

“Already had my bath.” Anne winced at the no so far away memory of her dip in Lake Elizabeth.

“There’s the beams in the rafters…” Emmaruade tapped the side of her nose in deep thought.

“That’ll work.” Anne looked up and studied the beams. It could be a good spot to try. “Gimmie a hand Harold?”

So with Jasper steadying Anne’s arm and Harold giving her a leg up, Anne was able to reach one of the main beams and swing her leg over. “Stop looking, Harold.” She chided, the laughed as the only male crier gave her a wry smile.

Being careful to not look down too much, Anne made her way to the center of the beam and tucked her feet up so she lay in a frog leg position over the party. It reminded her a bit of the crow’s nest on the ship.

“ANNE DREW!” The voice nearly shook Anne off of her perch. “WHAT IN THE NAME OF ST. ELMO ARE YOU DOING?”

Fin. 

This was a hard day to write. Not really happy with this episode. We'll see what happens tomorrow since I'll have even less time to write than I did today. I've just got to remind myself that even if these posts aren't what I want them to be, I'm working on learning to meet my own deadlines and this is "good for me." 

On the Fifth day of Christmas…The Duckies Made Me Sing, Five Sea Shanties!

On the Fifth day of Christmas…The Duckies Made Me Sing, Five Sea Shanties!

            Anne Drew wiggled through a crowed and plopped down next to John T Hawser, her fellow sailor, at the biggest table and snatched up a chicken leg from a platter of food. Everyone was crowded around this table, talking and laughing, and there was even a little bit of singing from the Bristol Buskin Frolic down at the far end.

“How’s your head Anne?” John inquired.

“Hurts a bit,” Anne admitted. She didn’t like to advertise injuries. “How’s your back?”

“It’s doing fair enough.” John nodded. The life of a sailor wasn’t easy on anyone. Each member of the crew of the Gabriel had his (or her) own small aches and pains they managed. “Nice to be back on land.”

“Can I get you gentlemen some Adam’s Ale?” asked Kate of the Dirty Duck Inn, ever ready with a pitcher of Adam’s Ale to quench the thirst of the Duck’s guests.

“Aye, please!” Anne held out her mug and Kate poured a generous amount into her cup. “Grammercy.”
            “Will ye sailors be gracing us this evening with some music, mayhap?” Kate inquired. “We haven’t had any shanties for such a long time.”

Anne and John looked to each other and shrugged. “If the Captain agrees to leadin’ I don’t see why not.” Anne looked about for Captain Frobisher. “CAPT’N!” She shouted.”

“WHAT?” Came the roaring reply from a dusky corner of the Duck.

John raised his eyebrows. “Well, you’ve distracted him.” He gave Anne a nudge.

Anne tiptoed her way over to where her Captain had been busy with Chastity Trollop. Now he was vaguely annoyed at being interrupted. Deciding to play the ignorance of her captain’s romancing, Anne took a bracing swig of Adam’s Ale. “We’ve been requested to sing some sea shanties.”

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Frobisher protested. Chastity, however, looked mildly interested in participating with the shanties. She had a few songs of her own that got a crowd laughing and singing along.

“They promised free something-or-other.” Anne lied, taking another drink of Adam's Ale. She hoped that she could wheedle a mug of mulled cider out of Master Peter Cabot, the owner of the Dirty Duck Inn.

“Free?” Frobisher’s ears perked up.

“Why not?” Chastity stood up, to Frobisher’s great disappointment, and the trio made their way towards the main throng of guests. Kate was already standing atop a cleared table (how the ducks managed that is simply impressive and nothing short of a miracle!) and was talking up something she called the “Shipwreck Shanty Show.”

“Can I join in?” Came two voices at Anne’s elbow. Maggie Pie, and Lettuce Gardener two inhabitants of Bristol who possessed lovely singing voices. Maggie’s fellow co-worker, Lefty the Ingles-man (who spoke an extraordinary amount of Spanish for one native to London), joined the group claiming that he knew all about shanties from having lived in one.

“Why not?” Frobisher agreed. “Oy! John, get up here!”

Within minutes the small group of shanty singers had grown to a chorus, still vastly outnumbered by the guests of the Duck. With a quick word to Mast Peter Cabot about the Captain’s free drink, Anne took a perch on the edge of the table and joined into a very loud and multi-keyed rendition of “Pay Me, You Owe Me.”

Much laughter and five songs later, the Bristol Buskin Frolic took over with some merry Yuletide songs and the shanty-sing turned dispersed. Captain Frobisher, with his “free” mug of mulled cider, had sat himself by Captain Hawkyns and Drake and was regaling them with much embellished tales of his latest voyage to the arctic. John yawned and said that he thought that he’d better get some shut eye for the night while there was still a bed to rent in the Inn.

Anne found herself a solitary position, leaning against a standing beam and just taking in the warmth that emanated from not only the fire, but also the people reveling and merrymaking. It felt good to be back in Bristol. 

 Fin. 

I finished this and posted it before 9pm!!! YAY! I haven't liked needing to post things late. Makes me antsy. As always, I hope that you are enjoying these stories and shall post again tomorrow! 

On the Fourth day of Christmas the Witches gave to me…Four Weird Looks.

On the Fourth day of Christmas the Witches gave to me…Four Weird Looks.

Anne tripped down the stairs and looked around the crowded tables for an empty spot. The workers of the Duck were bustling about with pitchers of ale and platters of food.

Frobisher was sitting in a corner with Chastity. Anne didn’t think he’d want to be disturbed. The Towne Criers were trying to get Harold drunk enough that he’d sing Hark the Herald Angels Sing, and while that looked like fun, Anne wanted a few calm moments before charging into the chaos. Hawkyns was arguing with Drake about who was more important, and Maggie Pie the pickpocket was moving about making a living. Just to be sure, Anne checked her own purse making sure nothing was missing. Taking another look around, she spotted a seat by the large fireplace and raced to take it before anyone else.

Taking a seat on a bench across from two of the three witches of Bristol known as the Normyl Sisters, Anne earned herself an odd glare from Beatrix, the younger of the witches. “What’re you doing here?” Beatrix dragged out the vowels of her words and bugged out her eyes. Most of the time this slightly deranged witch simply made strange noises and clacked her spoons together. Right now Beatrix’s spoons were busy ladling soup out of a bowl onto the floor. 

“Good Day Anne Drew.” Came a much more proper greeting from Gertrude, the elder Normyl Sister.  “How fare you this...festive den?” Gertrude's eye twitched at the mention of the holiday.

“Better now.” Anne snatched a mug of small beer from a passing Duck and downed half of it in one gulp. “Fire feels nice.”

“Quite.” Gertrude agreed. “Almost hot enough to burn someone.”

“They tried to burn me once!” Beatrix cackled. Anne raised an eyebrow, Beatrix had spent a good amount of time in Bethlehem Hospital and her stories couldn’t always be trusted. “I just played dead and twitched a lot.”

Gertrude blinked at her younger sister. “Yes dear.” She patted Beatrix on her head. “And it’s a shame they didn’t succeed.”

“I see you dressed up Conrad with a sprig of Holly.”

“It’s Hemlock.” Gertrude corrected, looking fondly at the small fish skeleton hanging from Beatrix’s hat. “Very festive for the Winter Solstice.”

“Plannin’ anything special?”Anne inquired, trying to make polite conversation.

“I might turn the Lord Mayor into a toad!” Beatrix gazed at her spoons, now licked clean of soup and started to beat out a rhythm. “Turn ‘im into a toad! Turn ‘im into a toad!” She roared in a singsong way.

“Now you’ve got her started!” Gertrude whined and shrank from her sister. “She was doing so well and now I’ll have to dose her with chamomile.”

“Does that calm her down?”

Gertrude shook her head. “No, it makes her break out in puss filled warts.”

Anne stopped drinking her beer in mid-sip, nearly performing a perfect spit-take. “Then why give it to her?”

This earned Anne looks of astonishment from both Normyl sisters. “I love warts!” Beatrix crooned and clacked the spoons right in Anne’s face, sending her backwards over the bench and making her spill her beer all over herself.

“Great, now I’m all wet again.” Anne muttered and went off in search of another seat before she could offend the witches again. 

 Fin...

Well I hope the few of you that are still reading my rubbish are liking how the story is developing. I'm not even sure where it will go next, but hopefully it won't end in tears! 

On the Third Day of Christmas, Captain Hawkyns gave to me…Three Clean Shirts.

On the Third Day of Christmas, Captain Hawkyns gave to me…Three Clean Shirts.

            Contrary to the Duck’s summer open-air kitchens, they had moved into a few of the abandoned buildings that Bristol merchants had left in search of warmer climate and better markets. The Duck was full to the brim with the inhabitants and visitors of Bristol. The sounds of laughter, singing, and drinking abounded.

            Frobisher’s face lit up like the starry sky as he spotted a disgruntled Chastity sauntering towards him. “Chastity!”

            “You owe me money!” Chastity brandished her walking cane at the captain.

“Do I?” Frobisher looked to his cabin “boy.” “Andrew, do I owe Chastity money?”

Anne Drew, ever one to ally herself with the right parties (how else did she keep Frobisher blind as a bat to her cross dressing), nodded and smiled at the curly haired floozy, “He does owe you.” She said through chattering teeth. Chastity took one look at the sopping cabin boy (we shall remind the readers of Anne’s dip in Lake Elizabeth in Part 1).

“Thought so, so cough it up!” Chastity held out her hand, waiting.

Frobisher sighed and pulled a coin purse from out of his codpiece. This made Anne dissolve into fits of giggles and Frobisher stared at his cabin boy in alarm. “Andrew! Why are you giggling? That’s not manly at all!”

“Sorry, sir!” Anne Drew coughed, trying to stop giggling and ending her spasms in a fit of sneezing. “Couldn’t help it.”

Just as Frobisher was about to, grudgingly, hand over coinage to Chastity, a booming voice came from the entrance. “Frobisher!”

Now both Anne and Frobisher cringed. The voice was none other than that of Captain John Hawkyns, rival of Captain Frobisher and supposed biological father of Anne Drew. “When I had Anne Drew sign onto your crew I expected you to make better care of her…erm…him.” Hawkyns clapped a firm hand on Anne’s shoulder. Anne cringed, she hadn’t spoken to Hawkyns since she had run away from her short stint of respectable l ife.

“Why does everyone think my cabin boy looks like a bleedin’ girl!” Frobisher whined. “This is exactly why you need hair on your chest Andrew! It’s bad enough that you like shaving your whiskers every day!”

“Is there a fire somewhere that I can get warm by?” Anne piped up, wanting to make as fast an exit from this conversation as possible.

“Bob left some clothes in my trunk upstairs.” Hawkyns gripped Anne’s arm and dragged her towards the stairs. “Get us some beer Frobisher!”

“How about payin’ me first, luv?” Chastity wrapped her arm around her favorite Captain and Anne lost sight of the two as Hawkyns led her upstairs.

Inside Captain Hawkyn’s room Anne shed her cloak and plopped herself in front of the fire to warm her frozen fingers, keeping an eye on her father. Hawkyns strode over to his trunk and threw open the lid, digging through shirts and clothing to find whatever garb Bob had left behind.

“Here, Anne.” Hawkyns handed Anne several shirts and a pair of slops. “You can have them.”

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“I would have appreciated more than a letter.” Hawkyns ruffled Anne’s hair making her wince when he hit the lump forming beneath her hair. “I didn’t really think you’d stick around long.”

“Like father like daughter?” Anne tried a smile and looked over the clothes. “You don’t need’em back?”

“Bob left with the circus!” Hawkyns growled in exasperation. “Never trust a jester Anne.”

“Can you do me a favor?” Anne began to peel off her doublet, boots, and stockings. “I told Frobisher there was free beer.”

Hawkyns laughed and ran his hand through his hair. “Now why on God’s earth would you do that?”

“Estella. Foxglove.” Anne used one of the new shirts as a tent as she switched the cold wet one for the dry linen.

“Is that how you got so wet?” Hawkyns turned around so that Anne could switch her trousers.

“Frobisher got enthusiastic and threw me in Lake Elizabeth.” Anne fumbled with the ties of the slops, but managed to get them on and slung her belt round her waist. “I’m decent.”

“Ah,” Hawkyns sighed as he turned back around to face his fiery haired offspring dressed in his old cabin boy’s garb. “You sure you still want to serve with him?”

“He might be an idiot some days, but he’s a good Captain.” Anne admitted, pulling on one of Bob’s old vests. “I think I need a drink. I’ll manage with bare feet till my boots dry out.”

“Shall we?” Hawkyns held out the door and Anne slipped past him, taking the stairs in twos back to the Christmas Party. 

Fin

I finished this only about five minutes ago, and with a quick proof read from my BestFriend Bombalurina- here you go! Hopefully tomorrow I will not procrastinate so much. I'm trying to hold myself to deadlines and learn how to write well using deadlines. I'm hoping that this isn't total rubbish. 

On the Second Day of Christmas the Dracos Gave to Me...Two (or more) Snow Balls

On the Second Day of Christmas, The Draco’s Gave To Me…Two (or more) Snow Balls. 

Anne Drew and Captain Frobisher had not gotten past the lonely maypole of Bristol, nigh unto the Towne Square Pub, when they were assailed by half a dozen well aimed snowballs. The shouts of two Draco Disciples could be heard from the pub’s balcony, namely Liam Bloodroot and Estella Foxglove.

“Happy Christmas Anne-Drew!” Estella sang out in lovelorn tones. Anne tried her best to shrink behind her Captain. Dealing with Estella, one of the few oblivious to Anne’s true gender, on any normal day was a tricky thing. Soaked to the bone from her dip in the lake and a lump forming on the side of her head, Anne wanted to get away from the infatuated villainess as soon as possible.

Captain Frobisher, ever oblivious to Anne’s plight, pushed his cabin boy in front and elbowed Anne in the ribs. “Be polite and wish Estella a Happy Christmas!”

“HappyChristmasEstella.” Anne muttered, pulling her sodden hat low over her eyes.

“Louder!” Instructed Frobisher, who seemed doomed to talk in exclamation points.

“Happy. Christmas. Estella.” Anne made to turn on her heel and was greeted with a snowball in her back from a sneaky Vinz Clortho. “Oy!” Anne drew her belaying pin on the diminutive Draco. 

“Now, now…” Vinz sneered. “Wouldn’t want to get hasty like that Anne Drew.” He might have been short, but Vinz was as sharp as a pin and as scary as a potter, whatever that might mean.

“No dueling on festival days Andrew, you know the laws.” Captain Frobisher confiscated Anne’s belaying pin. “Besides, we’ve already paid all of our taxes.”

“So why are the Dracos hitting us with snow balls?” Anne demanded.

“We couldn’t cause a blizzard in Bristol because of those confounded witches.” Liam explained. “However, we can pelt everyone with evil!”

“Snowballs?” Anne said, disbelieving. “Really? That’s what you call evil?”

“Or we could throw you in jail for cross dressing.” Vinz shrugged as he began to pack another handful of snow. Captain Frobisher looked down at his manly attire and then at his cabin boy, clearly confused as to who the Dracos might be referring.

“Andrew isn’t cross dressing!” He protested. “Just that one time he wore a skirt, and that was for a stage act! It was perfectly legal!” The Captain turned to his cabin boy, “Is there anything you aren’t telling me, Andrew?” Anne rolled her eyes and ducked to avoid another snowball coming from Estella.

“I’m hitting you with snowballs because I love you!” Estella threw another one that hit Anne on her frost covered shoulder. “Got any mistletoe Liam?”

“I’m not kissing you!” Liam protested and Estella slugged Liam in the arm.

“I wouldn’t kiss you, you ninny! I want to kiss him!” She pointed eagerly at the cringing cabin boy.  

Anne looked around for a quick escape, right now it seemed like her fate was to either freeze to death or snog Estella, and neither of those options sounded particularly appealing (no offense to Estella, she’s a lovely girl, just not Anne’s type).

“Yes Captain, there is something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Anne took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to turn into an icicle if I stand here any longer. We’d better hurry to the duck if we don’t want to freeze.”

Captain Frobisher balked, “Nonsense Andrew, this is much balmier than the arctic! You’re just trying to avoid Estella.”

“What if I told you that I heard word about a buy one beer get three free deal at the duck that was on a first come first serve basis to their Christmas customers?”

Captain Frobisher was already barreling ahead at the mention of free booze before Anne could finish her sentence. Never mind that Anne had fabricated the whole thing. Maybe she'd get to the duck in enough time that her extremities wouldn't freeze off.

Fin

Check tomorrow for Part 3 and Thank You All for reading!

On the First Day of Christmas, My Captain Gave to Me...A Bruise in the Serengeti

Twas Christmas In Bristol: 

Episode 1: On the First Day of Christmas, My Captain Gave to Me...A Bruise in the Serengeti (Aka Newmarket).

Anne slung her pack over her shoulder and tripped down the gangplank to the docks. “Careful there, Andrew!” Captain Frobisher barked. “You can’t get drunk before I do!”

“Not plannin’ on it sir!” AnneDrew laughed and shivered a bit as the breeze caught the gap in her cloak. Tonight was the gathering of many of the Bristol towne folk at the Dirty Duck Inn for a special Christmas feast that the Ducks had invited everyone too attend. With the promise of floozies (especially one, Chastity Trollop) and strong drink, Frobisher was not one to miss such a gathering.

Seeing the city of Bristol all covered in a light dusting of snow (everyone suspected the Weird sisters of holding off a blizzard that almost was brought down on the city by the Draco disciples) was a new sight for young Anne. Sure, London had its grey and slushy covering every late November through March, but it wasn’t anything like the six inches of pure white coating Newmarket (t’was a bit chilly to call that area the “Serengeti” at the moment).

All of a sudden, Anne found herself being hoisted and thrown off the dock and into the freezing Lake Elizabeth. Not only was this lake of icy temperature, it was also coated with a thin layer of ice. Anne came up sputtering to hear the booming laugh of her Captain.

Shivering, Anne crawled up the banks and shouted, “What was THAT for?” Her head was pounding and Anne felt a lump forming on the side of her skull. “Really Captain, we all know you’re as strong as an ox.” Anne silently added that some days, the Captain seemed as thick as one too. Anyone with a bit of sense would know better than to throw a man (or woman, in Anne’s case) off of a dock into freezing water. However, Frobisher was never one to pay attention to that governing shared consciousness called “common sense.” He’d argue that he was anything but common, and in many ways (and definitions of that word), he was right.

“You need to grow some hair on your chest!” Frobisher laughed and thumped Anne on the back. “Besides, a little water never killed anyone!”

“Hypothermia might.” Anne muttered.

“What’s that?”

“Do we have any coal Captain?...I forgot to fill one of the stockings on board ship.” Each of the crew’s members would wake on Christmas morn’ to find a stocking full of coal (and maybe a bit of paper that would count for an extra ration of ale along with some sausage). While some might find this gift a mark of a year of bad behavior, the crew was always delighted to receive such a practical gift that would keep them warm up in the arctic sea.

“That can wait Andrew, let’s get to the Duck! FOR WARD!” Frobisher shouted and with his codpiece leading the way, Captain Frobisher and AnneDrew started on their journey (dedicated to the elusive Ward) towards the Dirty Duck Inn with the promise of warm food and the possible prevention of hypothermia. 

Fin

Well that starts of my 12 Days of a Bristol Christmas series. Check tomorrow for more fun!

Evolution of Anya

Now comes the Post-Playing-Anya episode where I examine a few things about her character that I discovered while being her more than myself this weekend. I really got a serious intensive in holding a character throughout a weekend, and I can say that I am very pleased with her character since I didn't have much time to prep and explore.

Things I learned about Anya that I didn't know going into Teslacon:

1) Anya is fairly brilliant. I knew that her sister Toni was good with tinkering, but Anya's got a knack for wires and electricity floating around somewhere. Fitting that she works a switchboard, eh?

2) Anya hides her brilliance. She portrays herself as sort of a simple school girl, but if you get her talking about something she will launch into the discussion and blow everyone away by her intelligence.

3) Anya is not a simple school girl. I think the phrase I came up with as to why she got kicked out of finishing school was "I always follow the rules, there just aren't rules about certain things." Meaning, since the rules haven't been written (because the teachers never assumed certain things would happen) Anya went ahead and did whatever she liked while still following the written rules.*

4) Anya can get people to do what she wants because she is so girlish and plays up that perky innocent vibe that is just a bit infectious, and she knows she can get people to do what she wants. She's evil. She got people to start doing the thriller dance and play semaphore charades with her.

5) Anya is a bit selfish, but that was a learned trait and not something she was born with. She's willful, she was born with that. She can be kind to others and loves children. She loves her sisters but would have pushed them both over if it meant she could get the guy. Deep down she really does have a caring soul. She just loves to push the limits.

6) Anya LOVES being a girl.  She loves being a smart girl. She loves being a flirt. In some ways she reminds me a bit of the accounts of Anne Boleyn when she had just come back to the English court after her time in France.

7) She is SUCH a Slytherin.

8) Anya just does her own thing, she mocks being proper even though she knows how she should be behaving. She's loud and loves life and is a very extroverted person. She hates being bored. 

Don't think that Anya is a bad person, she's not. When it comes down to it, I think she'd vote for the good, mainly because whenever I saw the bad guy I didn't feel as drawn to that side while I was channeling Anya. She is a mischievous, cheeky, conniving little thing, and I adore her. She also does a perfect innocent face which I am EXTREMELY jealous of. I can't do an innocent face to save my life, but Anya pulled them all the live long day!
I never thought that I would be able to comfortably play someone like Anya. I think I just ended up really going with the flow and let my character take over in the best possible way. It was lovely. 
I really enjoyed being Anya for three days. I can't wait to work on her more and figure more things out about her. Heck, maybe I'll wear pink more because of Anya. I might have gotten over my aversion to that color.

Maybe....

*NOTE: There are now a lot more rules concerning the boy's school across the lake and the girls cannot interact with any of the exchange students from the boy's school. Ever. Thank you Anya.

On another note- I had the best time with the people I worked with this weekend. I got to know some friends much better and I really do love working with everyone who made up the crew of the Silver Star. I wouldn't have been able to get into character and be so comfortable with just letting go if it hadn't been for the trust I have in you and knowing that you all support me. Thank you for bringing me in so last minute and giving me this opportunity.

A price

Instead of making an account on FanFiction.net (which I have spent far too much time on during my short life). I'm going to be posting a little bit of fiction here since this is supposed to be my fiction/character/creative side blog.

I do not own any of the characters from the TV show Once Upon A Time. I simply got the urge to write about an original character who is a bit darker than my usual brand of misguided misfits. Plus, I think this type of character would be an awesome addition.

So here is a "one-shot wonder" I came up with only a few minutes ago. 

A Price

Mr. Gold’s pawnshop was a dark mess of wanted things. The red haired teenager looked around the dim room. She knew some of the objects better than Rumplestiltskin did. She’d been the one to strike those deals, after all. Petty little children’s toys that sat within glass cases. Practice cases from when she was small.

The door’s bell rang as someone else entered and the girl ducked behind the shelves, waiting to see whom it was. An auburn haired young woman with a red ribbon holding her hair back closed the door. The woman walked past all of the items in the store and to the back room. The girl followed her on light footsteps, her boots not making a single sound.

The girl watched the woman leave a package on the kitchen table, a book from the size and shape. The woman smelled like books. A librarian maybe, she had seen a library in the town on her way to Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shoppe. Using the back door, the woman left and the girl was free to explore.

Upstairs there were three bedrooms, only one of them being used. So the woman didn’t sleep here, although the second bedroom was clearly decorated for a woman. The girl could see Rumple’s design in every object. He never left anything to chance. He was meticulous down to the last detail. Except, the girl noted, for a shadow of dust on the bedside table. A cup had rested there for a long time before it was moved. The old man was getting soft. Perhaps it had something to do with that woman who left the book. What she wouldn’t trade to see what that book was.

Rumple always said that her curiosity would be her downfall.

The third bedroom was decorated for a child. A boy. Of course, Rumple had forgotten all about her. He didn’t want to remember her. No one remembered her anyway. She was a failed deal. She was supposed to have been kept hidden away, and she hadn’t been. The magic she had been cursed with marked her, as it had Rumple.

He had a son once, when he was still a coward. He never could just let things go, always had to carry a grudge, always had to get revenge. He was clever though, more so than Regina. He was clever enough to have turn a broken deal into a device, his own little spy. His errand runner. His deal maker. Everything but biological.

She crept back down to the shop to have a second look. There must be a few things of hers lying around someplace. Her knife, for instance. She could survive anything with that strapped inside her boot. Swords were so bulky and untrustworthy. Knives learnt you the way you learnt them, and worked with you as the best extension of your arm. Maybe her darts were around here as well. A girl could never be too careful.

She was so engrossed in her search that her ears pricked up a second too late. Treasure hunting was a weakness.

“Looking for something, dearie?” His voice was so much less insane here, like he actually had control of himself. Would he even recognize her now? She turned around and tilted her head, smiling at his surprised eyes.

“Hello dad.”

“Jinx.” The name scorched her, but she didn’t show it, there was power in every name.

“I’m hurt.” She simpered. “Are we at the name-calling stage already?” Jinx ran her fingers over a glass-domed clock. “Should I give you your name?”

“No need for that.” His voice was so much calmer it almost unsettled her. She knew, how well she knew, that he’d giver her anything to not use his name. “What do I call you now?”

“Wylie will suffice.” She slid onto the counter and crossed her legs, noticing the flinch he gave. He leaned on a cane. Wylie wondered how much magic he still had in this world. “A woman left a package for you in the kitchen. Nice place you’ve got now.”

The door opened and the auburn haired woman came back inside, “Rumplestilt-“ She paused, getting a first look at the red haired youth sitting on the counter as if she’d been there all her life. “Who’s this?”

“Wylie Gold, I think.” The girl turned her head to Gold, who gave the briefest of nods. “Pleased to meet you.” Oh yes, the old man did have a soft spot. Wylie wondered what would happen if this woman knew Rumple’s real name.

“Belle,” The woman provided. “Are you two related?” Belle’s gaze flickered between the two. They didn’t look much alike.

“Belle,” Mr. Gold stepped between the two women and placed his free hand on Wylie’s shoulder. He would have to recognize her now. “This is my adopted daughter, Wylie.”

Of course not biological, she was never biological. Never accepting responsibility for the fault that was his. He’d pay in time.

After all, magic always comes with a price.