(no subject)
Characters: England and you, hopefully?
Setting: A. Room 1-01 B. Floor 13
Format: I'm starting with action, but I don't mind switching to prose.
Summary: Waking up, not doing a very good job of maintaining that famous stiff upper lip, wandering aimlessly and being too loud in church, just being generally English.
A.
[ Up with a jolt, and she's glancing around, feeling vaguely like she's been punched in the face, trying to gather her wits about her. This isn't Buckingham, nor is it anywhere she recognises in the world, let alone England. An attempt to swallow is foiled by an uncomfortably dry mouth and Rose pulls back a breath, groaning as she sits up. ]
God... What is this? [ A letter. Her fingers brush over the paper atop her torso, pulling the little note up to glance over the writing. Brows pinch and she snarls, throwing her feet over the side of the bed to get up. ] Who's idea of a joke is this? Do you understand what you're doing to the world's politics in taking me here? Does it even occur to you the gravity of this situation might be beyond your comprehensible means?
All right. [ She rises a hand to her head, two fingers pressed to her temples, rubbing gently. ] All right, well, you'll come to regret this, whoever you are. That you will... [ She sighs, rubbing her face with a hand, then peers down. ] Oh God, these are awful. [ Blues flit to the chest at the foot of her bed, and with a quick glance around, she wanders over, curious, opening it up. ] Oh thank Christ. [ Her tongue presses against the inside of her cheek as she bends over and searches through her belongings, withdrawing her usual outfit and changing quickly. She has no fondness for the white gown, (though perhaps she could make something of it? No! She's not going to be staying here long!) but she still folds it, places it atop her things, grabs her broom and closes the trunk. ] Now. Where was I?
Oh yes, finding out who's fault this is. Oooh gracious but they are going to have their ears chewed off when I find them! [ A pause. ] ...unless this is the doing of a much more malicious type of foe... [ She peers down at her broom, then over at the door, steeling her will before gripping her fists. ] Well then, they'll just have to face the wrath of the British Empire. Silly them for underestimating me.
[ Though before she exits the room, Rose peers back at her chest. She did notice quite a few books packed tightly in the chest, so with a wary glance back at the door, she kneels beside it, pulling out a few books. ] Whoever decided to play this joke knows me quite well.... [ Wuthering Heights, War of the Worlds, Pride of Prejudice... ] Probably America or France. [ And then she fingers a rather strange looking black-bound book with gold writing on the cover, pulling it out. It's in arabic, and she instantly recognises what it is, and at the same time, casts aside the idea this aforementioned joker is any of the other countries. Rose frowns. ] And the Necronomicon. [ She switches her focus to the wall beside her, then smirks slightly. ] Well at least it'll be an interesting escape.
B.
[ Just a bit later and she's wandered down far enough to find herself walking down a line of pews, pigtails brushing from shoulder to shoulder as she glances from side to side. It's the first floor that's caught her eye, and she's not quite sure why that is, but the inclination to wander was strong enough to draw her down the aisles. Her feet shuffle to a stop as she whips her head around, sure she's heard something. ]
Hello?
[ And then back the other way. ] Is there anyone here? [ It's eerie enough that it leaves her with an unsettled feeling, but far from frightening enough to actually scare this iron lady. A purse of the lips before she continues to wander forward, brows furrowing as the mumbling continues, growing in volume. She can't seem to see anyone around, which makes her wonder mildly if the area is cursed. But if that was so, she figures there would be some sort of magical aura about the establishment, and all that she's feeling is slightly uncomfortable. ]
[ A few more steps. ]
If there's anyone here, I demand you answer me immediately! [ And a few more until the mumbling is louder, louder, disturbing her own thoughts, interrupting every step with something or the other that she can't quite make out but she knows she can hear and it's very confusing and irritating and then it just-- ]
[ Stops. ]
...hello? [ She's now at the front of the area, staring wildly about the room, turning back to face the stares and to take in the entire setting with a confused glance. No mumbling, and no people. Her fingers curl around her broom, teeth grinding together. ] My patience for this bollocks is wearing very thin.
Setting: A. Room 1-01 B. Floor 13
Format: I'm starting with action, but I don't mind switching to prose.
Summary: Waking up, not doing a very good job of maintaining that famous stiff upper lip, wandering aimlessly and being too loud in church, just being generally English.
A.
[ Up with a jolt, and she's glancing around, feeling vaguely like she's been punched in the face, trying to gather her wits about her. This isn't Buckingham, nor is it anywhere she recognises in the world, let alone England. An attempt to swallow is foiled by an uncomfortably dry mouth and Rose pulls back a breath, groaning as she sits up. ]
God... What is this? [ A letter. Her fingers brush over the paper atop her torso, pulling the little note up to glance over the writing. Brows pinch and she snarls, throwing her feet over the side of the bed to get up. ] Who's idea of a joke is this? Do you understand what you're doing to the world's politics in taking me here? Does it even occur to you the gravity of this situation might be beyond your comprehensible means?
All right. [ She rises a hand to her head, two fingers pressed to her temples, rubbing gently. ] All right, well, you'll come to regret this, whoever you are. That you will... [ She sighs, rubbing her face with a hand, then peers down. ] Oh God, these are awful. [ Blues flit to the chest at the foot of her bed, and with a quick glance around, she wanders over, curious, opening it up. ] Oh thank Christ. [ Her tongue presses against the inside of her cheek as she bends over and searches through her belongings, withdrawing her usual outfit and changing quickly. She has no fondness for the white gown, (though perhaps she could make something of it? No! She's not going to be staying here long!) but she still folds it, places it atop her things, grabs her broom and closes the trunk. ] Now. Where was I?
Oh yes, finding out who's fault this is. Oooh gracious but they are going to have their ears chewed off when I find them! [ A pause. ] ...unless this is the doing of a much more malicious type of foe... [ She peers down at her broom, then over at the door, steeling her will before gripping her fists. ] Well then, they'll just have to face the wrath of the British Empire. Silly them for underestimating me.
[ Though before she exits the room, Rose peers back at her chest. She did notice quite a few books packed tightly in the chest, so with a wary glance back at the door, she kneels beside it, pulling out a few books. ] Whoever decided to play this joke knows me quite well.... [ Wuthering Heights, War of the Worlds, Pride of Prejudice... ] Probably America or France. [ And then she fingers a rather strange looking black-bound book with gold writing on the cover, pulling it out. It's in arabic, and she instantly recognises what it is, and at the same time, casts aside the idea this aforementioned joker is any of the other countries. Rose frowns. ] And the Necronomicon. [ She switches her focus to the wall beside her, then smirks slightly. ] Well at least it'll be an interesting escape.
B.
[ Just a bit later and she's wandered down far enough to find herself walking down a line of pews, pigtails brushing from shoulder to shoulder as she glances from side to side. It's the first floor that's caught her eye, and she's not quite sure why that is, but the inclination to wander was strong enough to draw her down the aisles. Her feet shuffle to a stop as she whips her head around, sure she's heard something. ]
Hello?
[ And then back the other way. ] Is there anyone here? [ It's eerie enough that it leaves her with an unsettled feeling, but far from frightening enough to actually scare this iron lady. A purse of the lips before she continues to wander forward, brows furrowing as the mumbling continues, growing in volume. She can't seem to see anyone around, which makes her wonder mildly if the area is cursed. But if that was so, she figures there would be some sort of magical aura about the establishment, and all that she's feeling is slightly uncomfortable. ]
[ A few more steps. ]
If there's anyone here, I demand you answer me immediately! [ And a few more until the mumbling is louder, louder, disturbing her own thoughts, interrupting every step with something or the other that she can't quite make out but she knows she can hear and it's very confusing and irritating and then it just-- ]
[ Stops. ]
...hello? [ She's now at the front of the area, staring wildly about the room, turning back to face the stares and to take in the entire setting with a confused glance. No mumbling, and no people. Her fingers curl around her broom, teeth grinding together. ] My patience for this bollocks is wearing very thin.