paradisalogs | i know how to dance;

Entry tags:

i know how to dance;

who; anne boleyn & the once-ler
what; bitchslapping and/or drinking, who knows!
where; room 1620
when; may 4th
rating; pg

Anne could scarcely believe some of what she had read on that woman's 'journal entry', if it could really be called that. Useless screeching more like, and on a day Anne could barely tolerate her own dear friends. But it had not all been for shame, since she had learned some interesting news. Some of what had been hinted at before, but never really explained. It only sparks Anne's curiosity.

She has to laugh when she passes the door in the hall next to hers, and after staring at it for some time, decided to see just where that man is. He has not been responding over the journal since, and she's irritated that she has to seek him out. But she requires some work to be done, and he is the best she knows.

She carries a small basket with her at her sides, violet skirts ruffling with each step she makes in the tower. Anne doesn't even bother to knock, why would she, just opening the door and waltzing in while calling out her presence, since there is no proper usher to handle this for her.

"Master Once-ler, I hope you are decent enough for a queen's presence."

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A what? A second? It sure is fun trying to keep up with slang from the future, or other worlds, which apparently aren't so different. The fact that there are no trees as Ted informed, well... What is it the Once-ler had said to the woman who had apparently been his mother?

Oh, right.

She waits until he's disappeared before she speaks up again, dragging a fingertip along a chair and strolling about, helping herself to any curiosity she might find. Nosy indeed.

"I have discovered something interesting. It seems your mother...is to reside in the quarters beside mine own."

There are certainly a few curiosities there, a few inventions brought over from the workshop scatter the place and a small porcelain creature that could be a dolphin sits on a shelf. With the Once-ler out of the room, the unlesses-es that follow him around fade away, as if they were never there at all.

When Anne speaks, however, there is a clatter from the bathroom. Oh. Oh hell. That wasn't good. The Once-ler remains where he is, taking his time before answering her, staring at the closed door.

"Oh," his voice sounds hollow. "That's... well, good luck with that."

She walks over to the closed door, then, standing near and listening closely. "Do you wish your Lady Regent luck, or your own blessed mother?"

He keeps staring at that door, not moving just yet.

"You, trust me, you need all the luck you can get," he lets out a steady breath, trying to gain some level of calm in his head again. "Have you met her?"

It makes her scoff, though in amusement. It isn't his fault, really. He doesn't know what she's capable of. But she would like to know more of what his mother might be.

"I was forced to hear her through the journals, as everyone else. She may wait for her audience. Is she of any use?"

It's a hard question to answer. He still loves his mother, perhaps more than anything in the world. He still wants that love returned. Because that was supposed to be the bond between a mother and her child, right? Unconditional?

...And yet at the same time he knows that she doesn't care about him. Not really. That all this hoping is futile and he should know better. He should know better than to hope at all, much less put it in his mother's hands again.

There's a soft slumping sound from the bathroom as he sits on the floor, watching an unless write itself by his foot. Deep breath.

"She's my mother," he answers, then realises he needs to add more. "Maybe she just needs time."

Her gaze follows the sound, though it takes her a moment to realize that's just him sitting. One fingertip taps against the door, and she walks them along the frame.

"And in time, would she be useful? To you? To me?"

He's silent, for a long time, trying to think of a response that's not a lie...either to her or himself.

"I don't know," he finally manages to get out. "I wish I knew, but I don't."

She's patient, only because she's occupying herself with her own thoughts, and occasionally with something around his room when she wanders again.

"Perhaps I could create some...use for her."

He glances up at the closed door, at the words forming on the wood. Unsure, after all, there could be any umber of ways to 'create some use' for his Mom.

"...What do you mean?2

"It can mean whatever you wish it to. The castle is not the only one to grant wishes."

She finds the dolphin, picking it up with care to inspect, turning it this way and that.

"Do you wish her to be near? Far? Something to make her feel too high to have the time to speak, or too low to ever want to? Do you wish her to bow her head to her prodigal son?"

Edited 2013-05-05 22:17 (UTC)

He never expected that as her response, really. To have what he wanted from his mother...

No one could give him that, not even the Queen. Well, she could, but it likely wouldn't be real. No. As much as he wanted it, he knew he wouldn't get his mother's love. There's another shuffle as he finally gets to his feet.

"I don't think you can give me what I want from her," a pause. "I'm not even sure how much I want it any more."

Anne understands what it is to want a parent's approval and love, so much more than some. Her own father might even toss her aside if she failed him in her duty, if she survived that failure. But she does think he loves her, of course he does...

"Then you are lingering too much on what the old you would have wanted. You are in Paradisa, the land of new beginnings. If you cannot have what you once desired, then there must be something else you now do. You have had days to think on it."

Even kings and queens have to settle occasionally.

"I've been trying not to think about it at all, actually," he heaves out a sigh. "It would mean actually facing her...dealing with her. After everything that's happened."

He gives a sad sort of laugh.

"And she doesn't even knew she's done it to me. Either she's not from that time yet or the castle made her forget."

Anne purses her lips, shooting a most displeased look towards the door. But it isn't really directed towards him. His remarks remind her far too much of Elizabeth, and their situation.

"Mine own daughter comes from a time far ahead of me. It is most disorienting, but it is good you were clear with her right away, even if she is not quick enough to understand the implications herself."

Moving back to the door, she reaches out and rests her palm against the cool surface. "You are a man, and must live according to your own will. If you cannot gain what you truly wish from her, then if nothing else she will learn to pay you respect. And you will have earned it, from her and all others. Even the city residents."

"I couldn't lie to her, even if it would have made her still...I don't know, pretend she was proud of me," he stares at that unless. "It wouldn't have been right to those I hurt."

He turns to look at the door, to the sound of her voice and falls silent, digesting what she said. He doubts anything would impress his mother. He'd given her the world on a silver platter, and it still hadn't been enough. He doubts anything ever would be.

"...Ma doesn't respect many people."

Anne stares at the door for much longer after that, because it is hard to think of something that could impress such a woman. People like that are better off not existing; all they do is take, and never give. They are of no use to society, even. Reminded of that, Anne almost laughs at trying to think of such things. She doesn't care for this strange man that much, does she? She already has her plans.

Anne eventually raps her knuckles against the door. "Come out of there. I would see you in your shirt."

There's some more silence, before he eventually comes out, and hey, he's wearing the shirt at least, smoothing it out.

"It's pretty cool."

"That is the feel of the silk."

She really can't figure out all the slang! She just thinks he means it has a cool feeling, which isn't bad at all in the spring. Anne makes certain her smile is warm when he walks out, arms held out to her side with a flourish before she claps her hands in approval.

"Do you enjoy the way you look in it? Does it fit correctly? You look quite handsome, I must say. You ought to ruffle your hair in that fashion more often."

He flushes a little at the compliment, it's not exactly one he hears all that often.

"You really think so?" he glances down at it. "It fits pretty great. I like it. Thank you."

She looks pleased, or is it smug, and is there really a difference? "Think nothing of it. Now you must waste no time in showing it off to the rest of the castle."

Because staying in here too long will just be too pathetic. Even inventors need breaks, right? Like five minute ones... "When you feel you have...hm, had time to bond with your sweet mother, we may discuss plans for the city."

"I'm not sure about that, hermit and all that, remember?"

The other comment gets a confused look, he stealthily avoids talking about his mother but...

"The city?"

That was sarcasm anyway; it was code for 'done being holed up in your weird room'.

She slowly walks around him, to get a full view of her work, eyes lingering on an 'unless'. There always seem to be more when they stand still to talk. Anne really doesn't understand it, and can only assume it's witchcraft, but she's tolerated it this long!

"Yes. I would have an orphanage built, and I would have it be as welcoming and entertaining as possible for the children. You could make it the most...unique."

It's a terrible witchcraft. One day he will tell her what it means.

"Oh. Well, sure, that's a...pretty good cause. I could sure try anyway," he pauses. "...How do you mean 'unique'?"

"I am thinking for play, when they are not at their studies. You must have innovative creations where you come from."

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