{OPEN} ♔ they call her the black crow

[ensorceler]

( 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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[ensorceler]

When first the man approached the table, Anne keeps to herself, merely watching in her peripheral vision with muted amusement while tending to the questions of others. It's always somewhat of a game to her now, to try to guess the status of peoples she finds in these new worlds. She is so often wrong, because the attire of other worlds and times differ so greatly, but that doesn't mean she doesn't appreciate a good challenge.

He has some colors, but they're not overt, and he seems to appreciate leather. He behaves for all the world like he's comfortable, even if he isn't. Naturally she might think some kind of huntsman or even a man of the sea, like a sailor or pirate, but she has seen headphones before now, and that means he already knows technology.

She is pulled from her musing when he finally speaks, and Anne wastes little time in moving to his side. She sweeps her arms out, one behind her and one raised in front, as she lowers into a curtsy with her back straight, and gaze downward.

"My name is Anne Boleyn. Is there something here that might trouble you?"

[pelvic_sorcery]

​

The music still played through the headphones, his head bobbing in time to the music as he took another bite. Oh yeah, this place was looking up. His prison experience was limited, doing well to avoid it for a long time, but if this was how they went, he might have to consider spending some time there more often. Not too often but at least for the food.

His gaze comes to her, the head bobbing as he looked her over. Damn. Also, damn.

"Uhmmm, trouble? What? Nono. No trouble. Actually wanted to tell you this is great. This," he said, gesturing at the pie. "Also, you look great. Seriously, killer outfit,' he said, nodding. "I'm Peter, by the way. Nice to meet you, Anne. Do you prefer Ms Boleyn? Whatever you want me to call you, I'm there."

[ensorceler]

It's not a look she is a stranger to, in fact only inviting it more with a smile that can only be named coy. But she still keeps her distance, the reminder of Alaric's attack never far from her memories. 'Killer outfit' is such a strange term, she would take it as an insult if not for the context. More future slang she must struggle to learn. Since her dress is worn for mourning, she doesn't openly accept the compliment.

"Ms or Mistress Boleyn are both well and proper...Peter." He hasn't given her a family name, so she can only assume he's poor and so doesn't deserve a title. Even then she might offer him one, but not with his first name.

"Please, do partake in all the pleasures and care that you can whilst here. These are for newcomers as well as veterans. I am only here to serve."

[pelvic_sorcery]

​

"Mistress." He repeated the word, unable to help himself. Definitely a cultural thing, but he just couldn't help but smile, though it's not at her. Not mocking. Just it does put a man's mind to thoughts. Bad thoughts. He could behave though, even if he wasn't going to call her Mistress. Nope. He would end up getting himself in trouble. Of that he was certain.

"Is this your job then?" He asked, having spoken to a few inside about assigned jobs. "I mean, pretty sweet set up if you can get it. I guess they have been working on farming? Yeah, going to be looking into other options pretty damn quick, let me tell you." Even if you didn't want to hear about it! "So how long they had you locked up here?" He wouldn't insult her by insinuating she was too pretty for the place. One of the prettiest ladies he knew probably would be paying off her debt until the next millenia, after all.