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[thelongnow_logs]
05 August 2010 @ 01:00 am
A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow. ~Charlotte Brontë  
Who: Leopold and Annie, open to others
What: an encounter between friends
When: Thursday morning
Where: Room 310
Status: In progress
Warnings: none so far

Leopold is not the most patient of invalids. If the wound were in a more convenient location, he would be up exploring the house or at least pacing, but as it is he can hardly move without pulling the stitches in some way, wrenching the torn muscle, or both. So the morning finds him arranged awkwardly in bed, dividing his attention between the journal and several sheets of paper.

He is not in the best of moods. Inactivity does not suit him, and he has no clear answer in his own mind or from anyone else as to how he is still suffering the effects of a wound inflicted in a dream, or how Sam’s stitches and surgery, also accomplished while everyone was asleep, are still present. Questions about the dreams continue to plague him, preventing him from concentrating on anything for very long.

Restless and exhausted, he is more than a little afraid of sleeping after what has happened to everyone, not that he would admit this. Longing for some of the books from his library at home, or someone interesting to talk to. Something to eat would not be unwelcome, either.
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[identity profile] spooktea.livejournal.com on August 6th, 2010 03:23 pm (UTC)
Annie, having been sort of disturbed by that whole nightmare experience, decided tea was definitely in order. Not that she could drink it but making it was therapy enough. After puttering around the kitchens for awhile she even found some biscuits. Placing the tea and biscuits on a saucer she decided to take it up to her room. While it may seem odd she would do this without the ability to drink or eat, she did enjoy the smell.

Making her way back up to the fifth floor she got a bit turned around. She wasn't even particularly sure what floor this was but she spotted a door that looked like hers. This hotel sure liked mucking about with the rooms. Annie opened the door and stood there as she spotted a man laying on the bed.

"Oh! Sorry! I've got the wrong room. This place can be a bit confusing sometimes. Don't want to disturb you, so I'll be going!"

How embarrassing. She turned to leave.
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[identity profile] duke-of-albany.livejournal.com on August 6th, 2010 08:44 pm (UTC)
“Wait, Miss!” Leopold was off the bed in a second and grabbing for his shirt. Starved for company and conversation, he ignored the protesting stitches as he went after Annie. This was a stroke of good luck that he would never have expected. Shrugging on the shirt in a conciliatory nod to propriety, he held out a hand toward her.

“Are you lost? May I be of assistance?” Never mind that that assistance might involve walking distances of more than a couple feet or climbing stairs, neither of which he is really able to do. But courtesy is most important in Leopold’s mind, and the young woman is after all holding a rather appetizing cup of tea and biscuits. Perhaps she could be persuaded to tell him how to procure some of the same.
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[identity profile] spooktea.livejournal.com on August 10th, 2010 12:29 am (UTC)
sorry for the delay! i have shoddy internet. :\
Annie stopped and turned to answer the man. She immediately recognized the voice as being Leopold's. That nice gentleman she spoke to over the journal once.

"Not lost, just... turned around. I thought this was my room. I think maybe the hotel's having a laugh on me."

As she studied him she could tell he was in pain and trying not to show it. She did not want to wound his pride or anything but she also didn't want to be the cause of any pain. "Do you want to sit down? You're looking a bit under the weather."
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[identity profile] duke-of-albany.livejournal.com on August 12th, 2010 11:31 pm (UTC)
My turn to apologize. I've been milking cows the past few days.
The young woman seems familiar, but Leopold is sure he has never seen her before, either here in the house or in his life before. She looks friendly and reminds him of a maid in his uncle’s house in England. Leopold is slightly chagrined that she has both noticed his stiffness and offered him a seat in his own room, when he should be extending that courtesy to her.

He does sit down, because he really needs to, but not before pulling the desk chair and gesturing her toward it. “I am not accustomed to sit while a lady stands.” Although, perhaps she is not a lady, She does not sound like any of the ladies he has ever met. “Do you…work here?” he asks, unable to think of another reason a young woman would be carrying a cup of tea through a hotel. And if she is employed here, perhaps she can tell him how so many people have come here, and why such strange things have been happening.
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[identity profile] spooktea.livejournal.com on August 13th, 2010 01:56 am (UTC)
No problem!
"Oh, I'm hardly a lady so it's okay." Annie's never been called a lady before. Not by a proper gentleman. She allows herself to be happy about it for a second until he asks her if she works here.

"Erm, no, I don't. We've spoken before. Over the journals. I'm Annie. Remember?"

Annie sits down and places the tray on the table close to Leopold. She can't really have it so she figures at least it won't go to waste. She did enjoy it when people actually drank the tea she made. "Would you like some tea and biscuits? I can't eat it. ...I mean I realized I'm not really hungry and was just looking for something to do." She smiled and hoped he would take it as it might look odd that she wasn't eating or drinking it.
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[identity profile] duke-of-albany.livejournal.com on August 17th, 2010 02:59 am (UTC)
will be quicker with tagging from now on, promise
Leopold smiles gratefully and takes the cup of tea with one hand, holding the saucer with the other and drinking carefully. “This is very good, thank you.” Another drink, and he feels much better, the pain in his stomach receding a little.

“The journals, yes.” He does remember now, the warm words and calm answers in response to his panicked scribbling. “You asked me the year, I believe, and I never answered. I apologize. It is 1876, or was, when last I knew.” Another sip and he sets the cup down, tired brown eyes crinkling as he smiles again, one he doesn’t really feel, for her sake.

“Have you come from another time as well as another place, Annie?” Perhaps if he keeps the conversation focused on her, she will forget to inquire about how he came to hurt himself.
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[identity profile] spooktea.livejournal.com on August 17th, 2010 04:56 pm (UTC)
Annie was glad he accepted the tea. She hated when her tea went to waste. George was always going on and on about her cold cups of tea being all over the house but if he'd just drink them it wouldn't be a problem.

Her eyes widened at the year he said he's from. She's met ghosts from the past but never actual living people. "Wow, 1876? That's way farther than when I'm from. 2009 is the year I was in. I wonder what year it is in this place?" She had been pondering that for awhile but could never seem to figure it out. With every floor looking like a different time period, it was as if whoever brought them here aimed to never let them know the time.

"You feeling better now that you've sat down? The way you were holding yourself, it looked like you might've had a broken rib or something. Did you get anyone to check that out for you?"
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[identity profile] duke-of-albany.livejournal.com on August 18th, 2010 04:25 pm (UTC)
“It is nothing so large a broken rib,” Leopold reassures her. “And it has been examined and mended by a most competent surgeon.” Never mind that that examination and surgery took place in what may have been a dream and most definitely involved bullets and whiskey and cabalistic signs. Leopold does not like being fussed over. There are other things he’d much rather talk about.

“Two-thousand and nine?” He eyes Annie with renewed interest from over the rim of the cup as he finishes the tea. “It seems highly fantastical. The world must be so much changed.” Her mannerisms and clothing are far from what he would expect from a woman of his time, freer, more modern, but somehow comforting as well. She has a kind, inviting air about her that he enjoys.

“Tell me, Annie, do you still use elevators in two-thousand and nine?” He can’t help but ask the question in spite of his pride, although he has no intention of telling her why he has such a personal interest in the devices. In all likelihood, he supposes, his invention has been replaced by instantaneous transportation or something equally miraculous.
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[identity profile] spooktea.livejournal.com on August 20th, 2010 01:17 am (UTC)
"Things are definitely different. We've got all sorts of neat things they didn't have back then." Annie's always been fascinated by the past. It was probably all those Jane Austen novels she read as a teenager. She knew it wasn't really like that but a girl can dream.

At his question she made a face. That was an odd thing to ask. "Yup, we still use lifts. ...You had them in your time?" That was pretty hard to believe but hey, she's heard stranger things.
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[identity profile] duke-of-albany.livejournal.com on August 24th, 2010 02:46 pm (UTC)
Leopold cannot help but grin at the reassurance that people are still using his invention so far in the future. “We were beginning to use them, yes. Thank you for satisfying my curiosity on that small matter.”

He leans forward in the chair and tries not to wince. “I must also thank you again for that excellent cup of tea. It was most restorative. But do not let me detain you if you are required elsewhere.” Manners win out, as always, but he very much hopes that she will stay and keep him company a while longer.
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[identity profile] spooktea.livejournal.com on August 25th, 2010 08:23 pm (UTC)
"No problem. And where would I be needed in a hotel that's kidnapped me? Mostly I just wander around, trying to figure a way out. No luck so far." Annie was really beginning to get homesick but this place seemed inescapable.

It was good to have some company. She hadn't really talked to anyone at length. Especially those who were reluctant to talk at all. "And no problem about the tea. I'm just glad it didn't go to waste."
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