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.

Welcome Anastasia

Well I've got a new character to work with and Anne's been a bit quiet lately. I think she's taking a much deserved nap.
Or Anastasia is being a royal brat and taking over my brain, which is far more likely. I'm going to be be playing a Spaceship's Communications Officer at Tesla-con and Anya won't leave me alone!

Who is Anastasia, you ask? Well she's my new character.

Everyone meet Anastasia Newcastle.

AN:  Marian

Me: What?

AN: My middle name is Marian.

Me: All right then, Anastasia Marian Newcastle.

AN: Thank you very much!

Me: Can I continue?

AN: Please do.

Continuing on, Anastasia (or Anya), is 16 and from Benedict-on-Cumberpatch. While that is not a real place (though we wish it would be), it is near-ish London. 
Anya has grown up with her two older sisters Antionetta (Tony) and Alexandra. Tony is the ship's mechanic and Alexandra is the navigator.
Why is a 16 year old on a spaceship? Much more- how did this precocious little thing get a job of Communications Officer?

AN: Well, mummy and daddy went on holiday to Buenos Aires and so Alexandra and Tony got stuck with me and they both had jobs on this ship, the Silver Star, and I've got a bit of a knack for learning electronics. Actually, at finishing school there's a boys school across the lake and we all learned semaphores for communicating to each other. The teachers though we were just doing it for the exercise, bless them. Besides, I like talking!

Me: I've noticed...Can I have my blog back now?

AN: If you must.

Me: I really must, so shut it. As you can see she's a bit of an independent. She's also a little bit of a gossip, although she'd never spread anything truly mean. Anastasia's got a sweet heart underneath her penchant for mischief and rumor. She's also got a love of fashion and all things shiny.

AN: I LOVE PINK!!!

Me: You are not one of my characters. They never like pink!

AN: But I do! I want a BIG PINK BOW!

I'm going to go run and hide now. Anastasia shall be here for the next two weeks if you have any questions you want to ask her. 

Anne in a Dress

Instead of a Jack in the Box, an Anne in a Dress!
Just a bit of fiction I came up with around midnight of last night. It's very reminiscent of a few...erm...complications I discovered that come with wearing a farthingale. I hope you find this humorous.

“Anne Elizabeth Hawkyns!” Anne cringed at the sound of her father’s voice above her. She dropped her skirts and turned demurely on the stairs, looking at her father. Captain Sir John Hawkyns was leaning against the railing of the stair landing, a slightly bemused expression on his face.

“Aye, father?” Anne blinked innocently. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to tell that she had been climbing the stairs with her skirts hiked up nearly to her knees. Hawkyns’ was not to be fooled by his daughter’s charade. Anne was having a bit of a hard time adjusting to her new life as a privileged daughter of a knight. The cumbersome weight of her skirts made her feel both beautiful and restricted. Only a few days ago Anne had tried moving over a bench (something she would have easily jumped over in her lad’s clothing) and had to get help when her farthingale trapped her in place. Even the clothing she had worn growing up was much simpler than the finery Hawkyns had procured for her. The clothing was sometimes the least of Anne’s troubles.

“Ladies don’t bring their skirts up so high when ascending the stairs.” Hawkyns admonished with a grin. Anne knew that he was being lenient. “Where is Elizabeth?” She couldn’t go anywhere without an escort now, where as a lad she had been able to come and go as she pleased. Anne looked down the stairs and failed to see the other red haired girl that had been behind her only moments before. Elizabeth Cecil, the daughter of Lord Burghley, had befriended Anne within minutes of being introduced. Elizabeth, while studious and much better bred than Anne, had her own streak of mischief and fire in her.

“She was just behind me.” Anne replied loudly, hoping that her friend was within earshot.

“I’m here!” Elizabeth’s voice came through the door as she pushed the heavy oak. “They didn’t catch us! I had to see if one of my father’s spies was…” She looked up and spotted Hawkyns, and Anne’s warning facial expression. “Good day Captain.” Elizabeth smoothly floated up the stairs, hardly raising her skirt. Anne let out a long sigh. Why did Elizabeth have to be so good at all of these feminine things?

“I thought my daughter had lost you, Lady Elizabeth.” Hawkyns observed after reverencing. “What sort of mischief are you two young ladies getting in to?”  

“All sorts.” Elizabeth laughed. “But aren’t you a pair of my father’s eyes and ears as well?” Anne bit her lip to conceal her laughter. Even laughing was painful in these corsets and bodices. Of course Hawkyns was a spy, he’d been a double agent as well.

“I had thought you to be a positive influence on my daughter.” Hawkyns chuckled. Anne felt light headed and leaned against the rail of the stair, frowning. “Are you all right, Anne?”

“It’s this damn dress.” Anne muttered, earning a stern look from her father. “You never said anything about my language when I was the ship’s boy!” Anne pressed her side as the lightheadedness passed.

“I’ll take her to sit down for a while.” Elizabeth led Anne up the stairs towards Elizabeth’s rooms in Lord Burghley’s estate.

Almost out of earshot of Hawkyns, Anne turned to Elizabeth and with complete seriousness uttered, “I want my trousers back.” Hawkyn’s laughter at Anne’s words could be heard throughout the house. 

Fin

 

Stronghold, Friday.

Wow, it's been quite a while since I posted on this blog. I'm back with a tale of how I became a Maid of Honor for one weekend at the Stronghold Olde English Faire.

Friday evening I got to Stronghold around 8pm-ish (emphasis on the ish part because I can’t really recall). I couldn't really see what the scenery surrounding the castle looked like (other than lots of trees, which made me really happy because I love woods and forests and such).

I knew Stronghold was a castle, but I didn’t expect to be so enthralled by the castle itself. I must have had bug eyes when I first entered. After dropping off my bags in the great hall and saying hello to a few people I must have spent half an hour running around exploring with some of the other kids. There’s just something about castles that makes me really happy inside. I love old houses, and this place was MASSIVE! It had a tower, a fairy tale room with the story of Rumplestiltskin painted on the wall, an amazing Great Hall, just so many things that I loved. I was told that I had little sparkles of fairy dust following me around. I probably did I was so excited. It didn’t take me too long to figure out my way around, but the floor plan was pretty straight forward. There was a secret passageway from the library to a chapel, it was really easy to find (maybe I just think too much about how to hide secret passages).

Apart from seeing the castle, I was just so happy to see all of my Ren Friends again. Everything about these people puts me at ease and makes me feel at home. I was a little nervous just because I had no idea how to be  “nobility” but I knew that there would be plenty of people to teach me. Thank goodness, because otherwise I would have felt very ill at ease. As it was, most of my decorum was tossed out the window when I learned of the expectation of the Maids of Honor was to get into as much trouble as possible without being over the top.

Only a few days before Stronghold I found out that I’d be portraying Lady Elizabeth Cecil, Lord Burghley’s daughter. I wasn’t able to find to much information about her in the little time I had, but I was able to glean more information from the people at Stronghold. One little change we made was making me a Maid of Honor for the weekend, even though Elizabeth Cecil was never a MOH.

Ever since I’ve been going to the Ren Faire, I’ve loved watching the nobles. Part of it is the history, but I also look for new the dresses each year. I felt bad for staring but those dresses are so beautiful! AND I GOT TO WEAR ONE!!! One of my childhood dreams was fulfilled. I got to wear a court dress.

It was beautiful. Green and orange and rust/brown with trimming and beading and amazingness. Getting dressed itself was an adventure and the whole time I was praying that the dress would fit me. It actually fit very well for not being made to my exact measurements, but I had no idea what I looked like until I stepped out and got a look at myself in the hallway mirror.

I didn’t know what to do for a few minutes. I couldn’t look at myself, I felt so pretty. The other girl who was going to be a maid of honor with me was equally excited/impressed/taken aback by her own dress. We had a little “procession” into the great hall to show everyone and the reaction just completely befuddled me. I said “I’ve never felt so pretty in my life, and my prom dress was beautiful.”

Then I learned a little bit of a court dance, and I learned how to walk. Or rather, I was told how to walk and just picked up how to hover right off the bat. I also learned that when a lady is sitting on the ground she waits for a gentleman to help her up before she stands. I think Anne might need to pick up that habit simply because it would be funny.

Most of Friday night I just spent talking to people and having some fun being back around everyone. Even though I didn’t really know most of the people because I am not apart of St. George, everyone was nice and down-to-earth.

Falling asleep Friday night was sort of difficult because of the smoke in the Great hall. Apparently the chimney isn’t that great, so there was a fair amount of smokiness. It usually only takes me a couple of minutes to drop off to sleep. Friday night it almost took me an hour and a half, and I woke up every few hours. However, Saturday was going to prove to be quite the adventure. I’ll write about that tomorrow.