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.

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.