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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Once again, Derek is here to see if there are any familiar faces in the Temple on arrival day. Once again, he's leaving disappointed. Both seem to have become a ritual for him. He could go back upstairs to his room and brood about it. He's decided to go to the rec center and work out, channel all that negativity into something positive, something that would make him feel better.

Heading out of the temple after grabbing his gym bag, he spots Anne at the table. He's grinning when he pauses to say hello, stepping up to the table to see what she's doing. "Hey, pretty girl. More cookies? And..." He looks over her, a slow down and then back up. "...did somethin' happen?"

Having forced herself to move on quickly here, as she had in Exsilium, she doesn't come to the grand hall with many expectations. A glimmer of hope is hard to quell, but even when she does enter the grand hall, it isn't in search of anyone specific. This month she has started to expand on what she had started doing. Tables carry a lot more snacks than baskets, and the First-Aid-Kits are more important than people may think.

Upon seeing Derek, she's quick to nod her head in greeting, but she doesn't reach for a hug like she might normally would have. Otherwise, though, her smile is as friendly, a curious quirk to her brow at his inquiry while she glances down to her dress, like she expects to find a blood stain or something. He must be thinking of the color.

"Ah, do not worry, for I know not of any deaths this day. It is merely a symbol. A reminder to myself."

That momentary concern that had etched his brow eases away and he nods his understanding. Even if it's only a partial understanding. He's relieved to know no one died though. This color was so stark against her pale skin and so different compared to the dress he had last seen her in. It was hard not to notice it and be at least a little concerned about it. "What kind of reminder?"

His smile is back in place, albeit a bit smaller as he inspects the contents of the table. It's quite the spread, very thoughtful. Literally. Anne really thought of everything. The only thing that gives him pause is the bible at the end of the table. Derek opens the book, sees that it isn't in English, delicately turns the page for a man with such large hands and looks up to Anne. The question is written on his features, smile gone, confusion obvious.

She doesn't answer his question, instead a ghost of a smile weakening her features, with a gaze that could look right through him before she turns to see the Bible that he handles. The pages are delicate, and the writing even moreso, enough that it might be difficult for some to read. The cover is a leather of fine craft, with an ornate binding, and no words upon it.

Drifting to his side, she reaches out to touch one of the pages he stops on.

"Would you have me read for you? God's word can heal more than any medical box, or nourish more than any food."

Her non-answer doesn't go unnoticed, and Derek has to wonder why. Even if it was something personal, the dress begged the question in and of itself. Or maybe Derek noticed too many things and was just too curious for his own good. Either way, he let it rest out of respect to her. This was a greeting, not an interrogation.

When she explains what it is, Derek pulls his hands away from the pages almost as if they had burned him but not quite. He grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that's alright. I'm good."

Instead, he looks back over the table. "This is really nice of you to do this for people."

It's a notable reaction, but not one that surprises her anymore. Wherein the love and fear of God is to be expected in her time, since approaching Exsilium she has learned that His message is no longer as loud as it once was. It makes her sad, but while she is open to preach, she knows times and places. This isn't one.

She is just as keen as he when it comes to observing the mannerisms of others, though. They both must use these techniques to survive in their worlds.

"I was shown such kindness upon my arrival, that the least I can do is share such consideration. But you must also help yourself to the treats, as they are for all."

Everything Derek puts out into the world is a controlled response. He has a very carefully crafted persona, built out of necessity rather than intent. And his learning to read people as he does is also out of necessity. He had just learned to put those skills to use in his career back home once his athletic career fell through.

"Guess I can have one since I'm about to go work it off." He answers with a grin before perusing the offerings. He plucks a biscuit from the tray. "So how are you doing? Settling in alright?"

Work it off, what a quaint way to describe exercise. She wonders if he plays tennis or goes hunting. If there is anything to be said for the cut of future suits, it's easier to see when a man is in shape. If anything, after her recent run-in, she should feel intimidated by that. A friendly face hides so many things.

But whenever she sees him, she feels she has seen him more times than she actually has; that she has known him longer than she really has. It's strange, but she has had other moments of deja vu in this realm.

Without thinking, she reaches to fill some ale into a glass for herself. She already drinks it or wine like she might water, but even more-so when stressed. "I had thought to be settling well. But I admit my sleep has been most absent, especially as of late. I fear that not all kindness shown to me was earnest."

What's on the surface isn't always what's underneath. That's very true. And even Derek, who has been trained in the art of reading people, is sometimes wrong. The exterior isn't an infallible truth. Derek knows that better than most. But as for himself, he's genuinely a nice and good person. His exterior hides other, darker things than that.

Derek has that same sense of nostalgia about Anne. But, not one to instantly look to something outside of the norm, he attributes it to having seen her upon arrival day and his subconscious remembering her face from then on. The mind could so often play inexplicable tricks like that.

Tearing off a small piece of the biscuit and pops it into his mouth. He hums his approval. But is appetite is short lived once she answers his question. His brow furrows with concern. "What happened? Someone hurt you?" He asks, suddenly entirely too serious compared to his normal good-natured state.

It's the sort of reaction she wants, and is glad for, but it does make her further pause. As with anything, Anne needs to be careful what information she allows to slip. She's seen the act of vigilantism take a turn for the worse already.

"I am well now, thanks to the grand Doctor Crusher carrying medicals skills that border on magic. I am lucky not to wear a scar."

She's luckier to be alive, which goes unsaid.

"It is good to remember that the sun's light is not enough protection for anyone."

Derek Morgan has been told he has a serious hero complex. It's true. He also knows that he can be fiercely loyal and protective over people when the situation warrants it. He honestly can't imagine someone purposefully hurting Anne. It rubs him the wrong way.

He's now looking her over a little more intently, searching for injuries. "No, bad people aren't bound to the night." He knew all too well that they walked about in daylight, wore kind faces, were pillars of communities and had families and lives of their own. Evil didn't always look evil.

"What happened?" He asks again, when he finally looks up into her eyes again.

Anne keeps her expression very careful, subdued but not frightened. She's more concerned with how it might have her sound, and then how it might compromise her own plans. Honorable men have their place, but only when she deems to summon them. Which details she picks are important.

"A man who seemed but a servant, with a smile like yours, but beneath that he was a beast for true. One who thought to entrap, use, and kill me. Another came from the shadows to break his spell over my will, and I have not seen either since. Praise God."

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{OPEN} ♔ they call her the black crow

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