teleios | {OPEN} ♔ they call her the black crow

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{OPEN} ♔ they call her the black crow

( september 1st ; outside the temple )

It's the first, and yet another month beginning with the confusion and alarm of those kidnapped and brought to be judged.

Despite the sun being rather unforgiving in its heat, with no nights to cool the ground and the air, Anne is dressed head to toe in black; a state of mourning for those brought here and forced away from lives they once knew. She has few jewels owned here, so she herself has seen to the gown with ornate embroidery of silver thread, especially along the belled sleeves and the breast of the bodice. Her hair is gathered up in a coif, wrapped beneath a french hood. Other than her rings, the only jewelry she wears today is her silver crucifix pendant.

But even with the dress of mourning, the young woman's smile is as bright and inviting as the sun, as she remains near a large table set up and arranged just outside the temple, beside the bottom of the steps.

With help from those in the kitchen and others with kind hearts, the table has been brought out and covered with inviting things, such as food and drink. There is a tray holding biscuits and fruit jam, another tray with fruit pies, and yet another with smaller mincemeat pies. At the other end there are a couple silver coffeepots with an arrangement of condiments beside: sugar, honey, milk (before it curdles), chocolate shavings, and ginger shavings. There is also a pitcher of ale, since it's a proper daytime drink, and water beside that.

There isn't only food and drink on this table, but also a pile of First-Aid Kits put together by Anne and Beverly Crusher and handed to anyone who wants them; something Anne had learned to do in Exsilium. Truthfully, this welcoming table is not her idea, but also one brought from her former life. It's the only way she feels she can contribute just now.

Strangest yet is beside the First-Aid Kits, there rests an open Bible written in Latin. Perfectly normal presentation, right? Well, it is to her Reformist mind. She would have it in English if she could.

She strives to greet any who might come down the temple steps this day, to show them that this is all free and welcome to them. If there should be any penalty for the abuse of supplies and food, it should be on Anne Boleyn's head. The Bible is the only thing to personally belong to her.

[ ooc; OPEN and backdated to the arrivals on the first! Anne would have been vocal about requesting help for moving the table and setting everything up, so feel free to handwave that your character helped if you like. I just didn't want to spam the Arrival Log with a top-level. ]

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Leonard wanders outside once he's sure none of the new arrivals have disappeared to bleed out in peace. It's sort of a steady thing that at least one new Indebted will arrive on the brink of death, so once he's assured all is well, he heads down the Temple steps to head back to the Enterprise to get some sleep before he finishes packing and moving to the house he's claimed.

But he slows his steps as he passes the table, then stops and turns back, picking up a med kit and popping it open to have a look inside. He then lifts his head to make eye contact with the woman there and nods his head at her in acknowledgment.

"Ma'am." His eyes return to the kit and he sorts through what's in there. Huh. Pretty standard stuff. "Are you one of the medics here?" Because she sure doesn't look like one, but he's not going to write her off because of her clothes. Or is it a costume?

The question is laughable, but then in her recent times she has been asked if she were a seamstress, and has already had to suffer being a cook. Couldn't anything be possible?

But she shakes her head and bows it, a movement of deference to one who might accuse her of falseness. "I would never claim the knowledge of a physician, as I am but a woman and too simple. I merely put forth what little I have been allowed to learn in a previous realm, like this and yet not, in an attempt to better prepare denizens for possible harm."

His brows furrow at her comment and he takes it to mean that she's from the time period her dress suggests. Well, some of the things here must throw her for a loop.

"Nah, we have women doctors working in the infirmary here. They sure aren't too simple." But he lets it go and gestures to the first aid kit.

"This is a good idea, with the way this place likes to be unpredictable. You say you were somewhere else sort of like this place?"

She smiles less humbly when it becomes clear he is a supporter of the strength of a woman's mind. She already knows one can be a doctor, as it's Doctor Crusher who treated her last month, but still she must always play careful and coy when first meeting any man. She can meet a thousand but still never assume they are a feminist.

Nodding, Anne steps closer, one hand pressing to her belly and steady her nerves while she talks about her experience.

"Yes, though it is not simple, either. It was a place, but moreso...a time. My world but not. England was forgotten, and in its' place a camp of rebels named Exsilium. Everyone I knew was to be dead, and my home as if it never existed."

As some of the kits have been taken, Anne goes to re-arrange them so that once again they look organized and pretty, making it as one would a pyramid.

"They abused the laws of God, and took control of time. For a good cause, they said, but who is to know if it saved as many lives as it destroyed." Specifically a child she can't name, for fear of her heart breaking once again, so she continues. "We lived in a land known only for war. Where the sun always shines here, there it was always hidden behind clouds and rain, no color or life to speak. With so much death, it was necessary to learn such basic ways, for where they spoke law, they practiced none."

"Now that sounds a worse place than here by far, even with all its faults." Sure, dangerous things occurred in Teleios -- even life-threatening events -- but at least it wasn't some beaten down place full of war and time travel. For a man in the military, he's not too fond of war either.

"Hopefully people take you up on your generosity. I'd rather they have these kits and have them gather dust than them needing one and not having it."

First he reminds her of the genocide, and now so aptly of her recent attacks. She rubs in irritation at a spot on her neck as unmarred as the rest of her, but quickly drops it away to begin re-arranging the cookies.

"All was not terror, there. I knew love just as well as I knew loss."

She looks back to him, a glance over her shoulder with a ghost of a smile.

"Twas there where I learned that even when it seems hopeless, there are still those who seek to remind of pleasure and selfless charity, and that we are stronger as one. All need food, drink, health, and spiritual nourishment."

"Now that's a good way to be thinking." Especially since Leonard does feel that way, but he's absolutely awful at expressing himself beyond yelling and complaining. His bedside manner needs a lot of work, for starters.

As for the spiritual nourishment, he could take or leave it, but far be it for him to tell a lady what type of aid to give someone in need.

"I'm one of the doctors in the infirmary, if you haven't guessed already. Leonard McCoy." He nods his head at her again, not sure how she'd prefer to be greeted. Were handshakes a thing where she was from?

Scottish, but certainly not sounding so. She's grown used to this with future times.

To be friends with a doctor at all is always something to be pursued. Having already grown fond of Beverly, she can only think it good luck to further find more aid. Just as her world can never have too many artists, nor can there be too many soldiers or doctors.

Stepping even closer, quickly sizing him up with a glance and a smile more cheeky in it's presentation, she offers her right hand, and flicks out her skirt with her other, knees dipping just slightly.

"I am Anne Boleyn, and ever am I graced to meet you, Doctor. I am already indebted with my life and my prayers to your clinic and the most brilliant and dearly honored Doctor Crusher."

He takes her hand, guessing he's meant to just hold it, or maybe bow over it a little. So he does just that. It's the name that throws him. In this place, anyone who's alone without people who personally know them from home can claim to be anybody. And if she's a contemporary of Anne's from before she got the ax (or was it a sword? Leonard doesn't know English history that well), then he can see a woman in her position trying to get extra benefits from imitating a queen. And if by chance she is really Anne Boleyn, it's not like he's going to fill her in on what happens to her. Who wants that albatross around their neck?

"Glad to hear she could help you. She's a friend of mine." Take note, Anne. He doesn't have many.

"What should I call you? It's pretty clear you're from a much earlier time than I am, but my mother still told me to mind my manners around a lady." He's Southern, and they take their manners seriously.

"I think your mother a wise woman, then," she has to laugh out as she touches his arm briefly in an easily shared affection before she slowly shakes her head, smile more subdued with a headier tone.

"Lady Anne or Mistress Boleyn would be the most proper, but I have grown accustom to the ways of other times and kingdoms. I am no lady of great standing in my own right, so I have no quarrel with what you may choose to call me; Though I pray, whatever it is, to be offered fondly."

Well, that seems to suggest she's not queen yet. At least he knows now not to slip and call her Your Majesty or Your Highness. Leonard McCoy: Not an expert on titles.

"Hey, you're already on my good side to be out here in the sun, waiting to help people out when they come by."

Daring to break the ladylike throw with a roll of her eyes and a nod, Anne's head tilts as she fans herself with one hand, which does...a good lot of nothing. It's bad enough that she must be covered in layers, but also to have chosen black, she must truly endeavor to suffer. But she is one to feel that a good cause is worth bearing discomfort or pain for.

Though she made this dress as breathable as she could, with what was offered, there's only so much to do.

"Truly, it is not a constant heat as I have ever before known. What of your home? Is it any such like?"

"In the summer it can be. I don't know if you're heard of America? I'm from the Southern part and it's always warmer there." He nods at her dress, brows knitting together with rarely displayed concern.

"Don't go overextending yourself, all right? If you keep drinking water and get in some shade every half hour, you should be fine. Though you should probably have sunscreen on if you don't already."

The idea of sunscreen only makes her cringe. Back on the beach, during her first mission, they'd told her of sunscreen after her horrible burn. But when trying it, it made her clothing more uncomfortable than she could bear.

"Thank you, I am well used to the sun as I can be. Queen Katherine is not all I have served, but also Queen Claude, in France. But then they had night.

"I much more prefer the warmer airs myself, but I do believe moderation has its place. The agents running this world do not seem to agree. It is difficult enough to sleep with the sun never giving rest. The mind is as lost as our souls, here."

"Yeah. It's easier where I'm at. No windows in my room." Though that gives him pause, because he's about to move into a house with windows and he's a guy who doesn't automatically think of window hanging.

"Though my new place will need some curtains. You've reminded me of it." Credit where it's due.

That is an easy opportunity to leap onto, as she has already been considering how to ask him for something. As she already owes Beverly so much, she would prefer a different physician if she can.

"I would be most pleased to make you some, as I have been doing much of this in the late."

Windows curtains, curtain separators (ladies need their privacy!), blankets, cloaks... She's been busy.

"Yeah? Well, I wouldn't want you to go out of your way or anything." He shifts from foot to foot, not sure how to best express his gratitude.

"But if you find yourself with some free time... I could measure the windows and give you the numbers."

As Anne is most used to measuring with 'knots', she might be somewhat lost on his measurements, but she is a quick learner and so only nods.

"Then perhaps you may still do something for me in turn, were it also not to draw you from your purpose."

"Of course. I'm always willing to help a lady in need." He's willing to help anyone, really, but he tends to grumble about it more if it's not a pretty woman.

"You just let me know, all right?"

Her chuckle is as soft and welcoming as she can allow with a man she just met, but there is a nod of deference as well. Doctors are never to be dismissed or taken lightly, so long as they treat her kindly at least. She can handle a bit of gruffness as easily as a maiden in a fairy tale; else she would have no chance at tempering the King of England.

"Yes, of course. I suppose I must learn how best to put to use these bracelets, after all. They are so unlike anything I have ever seen."

"Yeah, I suppose they would be. I'm from a place and time where we're used to it." He shifts a little and nods at her bracelet, giving a rare smirk. "The whole 'talking without seeing the other person' thing."

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{OPEN} ♔ they call her the black crow

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