(no subject)

[janebecomes]

Jane had gone home and worried that her mother or Cassandra would wonder about the bandage on her neck but Dr. Cullen did a good job and no one noticed.

Though she found her dreams were slightly richer as if there was something strange and full of passion inside her. She would wake up and try to write them but they slipped from her hand like the morning fog.

When a door to Milliways appeared, she at first hesitated but then went through to order a pot of tea and keep trying to write what she could not quite grasp.

Comments

[justdidntseeit]

"God, sorry -- "

Narrowly avoiding a collision with two wait-rats caught in a heated squeak-a-thon over a couple of dropped trays and spilled orders, Kate knocks into the brunette's shoulder and places a hand on the woman's upper arm to steady both of them.

"Sorry about that," she says with an apologetic wince.

[janebecomes]

Jane knocks her tea cup over her writing and turns around to the other woman, she looks rather paler than you'd expect from such a small knock,

"I'm well, truly. Just a bit of a mess."

[justdidntseeit]

"Oh -- "

She snags a clean towel from another passing tray -- this one bound for clean-up duty from the mess the other rats created -- and tries to soak up as much of the tea as she can.

"No, it's all my fault, I'm sorry; I'll get you another notebook to replace that one."

[janebecomes]

It wasn't a notebook simply a sheet of paper,

"There's no need, I had not written anything of great worth on it."

Jane moves forward to help mop things up, at least she's wearing one of her home dresses so it will absorb the spill.

[justdidntseeit]

"Still, it's the least I can do."

She blots the small lake, belatedly realizing it only ruined a single sheet of paper, but the writing is hopelessly unreadable.

"Definitely not the best first impression I've ever made," she says with a soft, wry chuckle, while Bar provides an extra towel and a lined Moleskine notebook.

"Thanks, Bar."

[janebecomes]

Jane's eyes just open wide with pleased amazement at the notebook,

"This is more than you need to do."

[justdidntseeit]

"What? No, god, it's not nearly enough."

She wipes her hands on the towel and sets it aside, then runs her palms down the sides of her dark denim jeans for good measure before extending a hand.

"Kate Warner."

[janebecomes]

"Jane Austen and its a beautiful notebook and so small."

It takes her a moment to shake Kate's hands since she's running her hands over the notebook and smiling at all the white pages.

[justdidntseeit]

"Jane Austen," she repeats, giving Jane's hand a shake that's equal parts firm and gentle.

The Jane Austen?

"And you're a writer?"

[tragic_mask]

Although her powers don't work here, Melpomene still does what comes by instinct.

Naturally attracted to the pen (it's her vocation, after all), Melpomene drifts in seemingly Brownian motion towards the writer.

[janebecomes]

Jane at the moment is not paying too much attention to anyone moving towards her as she searches for a way to describe a fleeting feeling.

[tragic_mask]

She'd know these things if she weren't in the bar--

that sense of something just out of your grasp--

but she can still see the signs. She stops by Jane, and, without actually speaking, manages to convey a soft noise of sympathy at writer's block.

[janebecomes]

The sound makes Jane look up and smile absently at the other woman,

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

[tragic_mask]

"Sorry," she says, starting.

(Clearly she hasn't had enough practice being in a place where she can't just blend into the background.)

"I'm a writer, of sorts, and I can see the signs of struggle...
"Or maybe I'm misinterpreting?" she adds, politely.

[janebecomes]

Jane is unsure whether to be pleased that the woman can see she is a writer or nervous that her struggle is obvious,

"No, you are not, ma'am. I have been trying to recall something that is either the fragment of a dream or a memory."

[tragic_mask]

"Ah, yes..."

She nods, vaguely. "Those are always hard to pin down."

[janebecomes]

She reaches up to touch a bandage on her neck,

"Oh yes. It is so hard to not know what you know or have forgotten."

[zeevofbristol.livejournal.com]

Here, the moon was nearly new so George's senses were around baseline. Otherwise his senses might have caught something. As it was, he needed his glasses to see, though he did recognize the struggling writer.

"Miss Austen, hullo. Working on a new story then?"

[janebecomes]

It takes her a moment to break from her thoughts and smiles absently at him,

"Good evening, Mr. Sands."

[zeevofbristol.livejournal.com]

He tilted his head to the side, and hastily asked, "Oh I-I'm not interrupting you am I?"

[janebecomes]

"No, of course not. Forgive me, my thoughts were rather far away. How are you doing?"

[zeevofbristol.livejournal.com]

George pulled up a chair, and went to sit in it. Only his body hasn't quite got the sense of where it was, almost leading to him falling on his backside. He was still nervous about famous people like her, even if said person doesn't know they're famous. George was still nervous enough for the both of them.

He gave a sheepish look before finally sitting down.

"Been all right, though I think the door to here's broken, or stolen." Nobody's really explained the idea of being Bound to him yet.

[janebecomes]

"Oh do be careful."

She leans forward when he looks ready to fall over and then smiles,

"That simply means that you are Bound, Mr. Sands."

[zeevofbristol.livejournal.com]

George almost fell out of his chair at that bit of news. His voice also jumped an octave in distress.

"Bound?! Wh-what sort of thing is that? You mean people can get trapped here?" What about his mates? Mitchell's better, and Herrick...dealt with. But he still needed to get back in case the remaining vampires came for him again, or wanted revenge.

[janebecomes]

"Time does stop while you are in here, Mister Sands and your door will return."

He does seem to be in great distress and Jane orders him a small brandy,

"Do drink this, I think it will help you."