niteo_logs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Characters: Elizabeth Tudor, Open
When: [Forward Dated to:] 19th of May
Where: Her sewing chair, common room thing.
Rating: PG
Summary: Feels. Alcohol. How depressing it is to have all your stories end in "and then they were executed." Also: drinking from mid morning is perfectly acceptable for Tudor-times. Triggery? For executions and general horribleness?

Elizabeth prided herself on her mask. Chipped as it was in places, it did not take much for her to smile and cover almost every ill completely until something made her snap. To breeze by like she was unaffected when otherwise her heart was in her throat. So when it slipped, she was left at the strangest feeling of vulnerability. Today happened to be one of those days, where it felt like it was falling out of her hands again, when for sheer anniversaries sake, her mind strayed from her otherwise tight hold. She couldn’t find the energy to be her usual self, her hair was left free, her dress plain black and as she took up her usual seat for sewing, it felt a physical effort to summon a smile. She longed for company, but had long since lost the ability to ask for it.

Her design for sewing was simple, and selfishly only for her, though she’d promised to do things for others (they were at a bundle in a basket next to her chair). A swan with red edging. The mundane action let her mind drift, and the more it drifted, the more she drank, forgetting to even eat. A glass for her fierce mother, whose bold day it was. Another for her father, and Jane Seymour. Half a bottle for Katherine Howard, another half for her brother and sister. A bitter mouthful for Thomas Seymour and Katherine Parr. It became almost calculated. Dudley, Wolsingham, and the decision she had to make. Duty, her country and loneliness. The horror of being in this place, when speaking to Thor and Loki had made her miss her home so much.

By the time she reached half way through the third bottle some time had passed, she was feeling light headed and she sunk back into the chair. She longed for home, of her ladies to sit with, as they laughed over this Lord or that Lady. She fell into memories, and found solace like that. The sewing fell out of her hands, the red thread unravelling as it hit the ground, the swan missing all but it’s head, she drifted off into a unhappy doze, light as it was. The bottles and her half filled glass by her feet, rather telling proof of how much she had drunk. There was enough left, that someone else could have a glass too, should they want it.

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"I'm sure whoever said that thought they were being clever. They're not. Have you ever worn a kilo of gold and jewels on your head? I never had such a headache as after my coronation. I have to wear it on state occasions and I need to wear it for a whole week before hand just so I do not get a crick in my neck. And dragging the silk and fur around? There is a reason I got my ladies to carry it."

It was said frankly, and she was laughing, but it was all of it false.

"I've not worn that, per se...but I'm familiar with the weight of unwanted responsibilities." Raven murmured quietly, letting Elizabeth lead as well as keep her mask in place. Indeed, considering what Raven had been expected to do, she sometimes felt being pulled here to Nesreca was a mixed blessing--there had been no signs that He could reach her here, nor signs of his messenger.

Now, Raven settled carefully on the floor--all too aware her 'modern clothing' would be even more scandalous to Elizabeth than Becca's. So, she made sure her cloak draped over her completely, covering her bare legs as she sat cross-legged near by, looking up now. It didn't bother her though.

"Oh. Responsibilities. I don't know, they have a charm. They allow one to be entirely selfish in perusing things. Indeed, you can do almost anything in the name of it, and people have to respect it. Admittedly, you end up almost entirely alone with nothing but your duty. Funny how that works out." She smiled at nothing in particular, but it was sad. She could feel Dudley there some nights

She was too drunk too care about such things right now. Even slightly. "How did you get down there? Oh. Wait, right. What are you doing down there? That's what I meant."

"I sat?" Raven blinked, puzzled. Seemed kind of obvious to her. "I can help you feel less 'foxed', Elizabeth, if that would help."

"Oh, alright then."

She blinked, puzzled with that. "You can? How do you go about doing that my lady? And... no. I drank to dull things. It's the only way to stand ones own company sometimes. I'd hate to undo such carefully done medications." She raked her fingers through her hair, out of her face.

Well, that made Raven fidget, not that it was easy to see. It was treading into dangerous territory, ultimately. "It's...an ability I have, that I was born with." Hopefully that would be a good way to put it, without opening dangerous paths to conversation that would not be good. "I have a talent for minor healing."

Letting it drop though, easily, and hiding once more in her cloak and cowl, shadows comforting. "I've never had the luxury of being able to drink. It's something that should be done carefully, but I understand why one might want to do so." Not judging at all.

"Oh, another one then? How plain am I then. I've nothing but words and the ability to kill with them. I met a boy that controls fire, and whatever it is Lavi and General Cross do." She smirks, and it's cruel. She doesn't revel in that kind of power. But this place made her feel so powerless.

"Why not? It's generally just something everyone does in my own time, because drinking water just makes you sick." She shrugged. Then picked up her glass and drank the rest of what was in there. Not caring if it honestly was a bad idea to have more. "But with it... things become warmer. You cannot feel cold."

That's alright; Raven can do cruel--even if she doesn't like it, or enjoy it either. "Easy for one to say, who does not know what it's like. People often think it's a gift, but it's at best an unwanted gift." And her tone is flat, emotionless, pulling away.

"We've managed to make water safer to drink, in my time. Too much alcohol makes one sick, and with me...would not go well at all." It would make her lose control, which is definitely not a good thing. Not when she does actually like Elizabeth, and wants to try and be friends still. "It's...actually a falsehood. You feel warmer, but it's an illusion with the drink."

"That's like saying it's a gift to be royal." She tilts her head to the side. "Rin was so horrified when I told him what my people do, I felt bad. I do all of it though, every single murder, every child left without parents, every boy sent to battles. My authority, my orders, I may as well slit their throats myself." Even when she wasn't in control of what men did, it was she that took the blame. They wouldn't give her a proper army, so she lost a battle. It was still her fault for not having a proper army and their excuse to remove her from power.

"Yes, I know it makes one sick. No doubt when I awake, I'll have need for your medicines. But right now? It's dulled, all of it, and that's all I want. I do not care if it's improper or wrong. Have some honestly if you want to try it. You'd have to have weak blood indeed if only a glass effected you." Wine, good wine, was in her honest opinion, one of the best things to ever happen to the world.

"Trust me, I have very weak blood." Raven said quietly. "I'll try to have tea ready when you need it later though." There was no way she was drinking; it would not go well.

"Further..." Still quietly voiced, but firm enough in her conviction, "the Elizabeth Tudor I've read about, and have talked with before now, is one who does feel so deeply, and cares deeply for her subjects. It is what allowed her to have a reign as Queen that provided stability to her nation, allowing it to flourish in a time of chaos. She does not seek to be cruel simply to do so, but always with a purpose and always with a conscience."

She smiled fondly then, when she said that. "One of my maids, such a little thing, only just sixteen and frailer then all the rest. Used to half sleep through banquets if she had only a little too much. I missed her when she caught the sweating sickness and died." Shaking her head, remembering the girl.

"Is that what they say of me, when I am gone?" That seemed to strike somewhere, muted as everything seemed to be. "I think I should like, being spoken of like that. It's a good legacy. Father would be proud, I hope. I hope he'll forgive me."

Raven didn't know what it was like, to actually want one's father to be proud. Really, she just wanted him to not hurt her friends...to actually want her, for her. Not for what she could do, what she would do--according to prophecy.

"I'm somewhat older than your maid, just...weak blood for drink, but not all that sickly otherwise." Which was odd, considering how pale she was. "And it's what I recall reading of you. So far it matches when I've talked with you." Raven fidgeted a bit with the edge of her cloak, still hiding within it and her cowl's shadow. "I do enjoy talking with you, and I rarely enjoy socializing."

All Elizabeth wanted to do was make her father proud. That was what it meant to be ruler, to not end the legacy of your forbearer, and to forge your own. She hoped, so much to never fail.

"I am glad. I worried, you're quite... little. At least for most girls your age." Bemused, she listened to Raven, eyes downcast. "I am glad, I find your company to be rather refreshing. I'm used to girls your age giggling a lot more. You're a rather serious one, as I was once." Or still were, she might of gotten more quiet as time went on.

"I've....studied and been trained since birth to keep my emotions in check." Seemed the easiest way to explain it, really. Bad things happened when her emotions weren't in check...at the very least. "Before I was brought here, I'd just had my birthday a few months ago, in summer. I'm just little...comes from an active life really." Raven was glad that Elizabeth found her company pleasant; part of why she didn't want to talk about certain other aspects of herself until she was sure it would be safe.

Sign of how comfortable she was, as she reached up and pulled down her cowl. So far Elizabeth was the only one to see her un-cowled, at all. Certainly she looked pale enough to be considered very sickly if not on the verge of death, by Elizabethan standards.

"I keep active as is possible, but my family is tall. My father was six foot four in all his glory as king. That was around when he married my mother, Anne Boleyn." She didn't assume people just knew her any more, when at home, the name was hissed after her like a curse.

Elizabeth leaned forward a little, mostly just out of shock to how pale Raven really was. When she had seen her previously, she thought it was just the video feed. But the girl looked pale as death. Ice cold at the very least. But here she was breathing and talking. Gently she touched her face, alcohol making it seem like a good idea. "Look at you, I know women in court that would make themselves half dead to be as pale as you are now."

Raven managed to keep from flinching, going absolutely still instead. She wasn't used to being touched out of curiousity, not outside of battle or the rare hug one of her team-mates surprised her with. It was more forward than Elizabeth seemed, but likely could be chalked up to the drink and mood.

As pale as she looked, she wasn't half-dead. Her skin was normal, soft, and warm as one alive. Just very pale--courtesy of Raven's heritage. "I...didn't ask for it." Very quiet, and remaining so very still.

Elizabeth was amazed really, that you could be so pale and still be warm, and her fingers ran up across her cheek bone.

"Seldom do. I didn't ask for red hair, but I am thankful for it. It means I truly was my father's child, not a bastard whore's child like everybody said I was. No one could refute it. It's obvious whose babe I was."

Her hands kept moving, to Raven's forehead and the little stone there. "How curious, you look like one of those women from India I saw once. But I think their's are just paint..." Curious still, she just lightly brushed her fingers over it.

It certainly didn't feel like paint, for all the second Elizabeth's finger ghosted over it before Raven moved back. Quickly; scooting slightly and turning, and obviously tense now. A moment of shock, and pause, before quietly saying. "Sorry...just...I'm...not used to being touched."

Shifting slightly in her cloak, still so covered up and yet now obviously with her knees curled up against her chest, her arms around them. A very un-lady-like position, but for the pile of blue fabric keeping her covered. "I...was raised in somewhat of an ascetic childhood. I'm well-versed in the occult though, and most of my studies would be familiar to you as a form of Alchemy." Offered as an explanation for part of why Raven was closed off, even as she was clearly also wanting to be around the Queen.

"The women in India likely have it painted on their forehead much for the same reasoning behind my own though. It's a chakra; it specifically is the chakra representing the 3rd eye, denoting clarity and fore-knowledge if possible. Chakras being a concept of points of energy along the body that can affect one's mood and health, and being originally an Indian belief". Raven was clearly much more comfortable discussing academic subjects, rather than herself.

Mistaking it, Elizabeth looked a little bit aghast. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise it hurt. Forgive me."

Elizabeth didn't care so much for lady like. It was unlady like to be so intoxicated and so many kinds of Un-Queenly to be so in front of other people. "I see, an alchemist is it then?" She smiled broadly. "My court Alchemists are such clever men most times, I do enjoy their company." Probably why she enjoyed Raven's too, she thought.

"Chakra? Really? I've not heard such a term before. I think I would greatly like such an ability though, and know the things to come." She laughed, settling back in her chair. "But that would perhaps be cheating."

"It's...not that it hurt, more that I'm...not used to physical contact outside of certain circumstances. You surprised me." Raven did offer a small, very shy smile. Seen at the corners of her lips, more than anything...and rare.

"It's more that it opens the consciousness to hidden worlds, but each of the chakra points has a specific meaning and purpose. The 3rd eye is specifically the Ajna chakra. They go in a straight line, up the body...from the groin, to the next spot just below the belly button. Then at the solar plexus, the heart, the throat, the 3rd eye, and the crown--at the top of one's head."

Scooting closer once more, still in her cloak, but...more comfortable. "The ajna chakra is favored in mystical studies though, for its links with clarity and hidden knowledge."

"It's alright, I understand some of it." Well, sort of, she was used to having at least three ladies undress her at the best of times. It was intimacy she had very little of. But regardless, she returned Raven's smile, just as faint.

She was completely fascinated with what Raven was saying. She'd heard parts of this, in different ways. "Do all those places symbolise something different? Like the one in the mind is for knowledge." She tried to say the name, stumbling a little on the foreign word. "Ar-jna" Frowning, that didn't sound right.

"They do. And you can just call them by where they are, rather than the actual names...those are more complicated." Now it was odd; Raven was almost shy, even as this was clearly more comfortable territory for her.

"The crown, at the top of the head, tends to represent pure consciousness. Neither object, nor subject; purely the state of being. The 3rd eye, as I said, is clarity and hidden wisdom, intuitiveness. The throat chakra represents clear communication and growth via expression. The heart chakra is related to emotions, unsurprisingly; and consciousness of the heart and soul."

Raven paused, making sure Elizabeth was following. Patient, but not dumbing it down or expecting her to have trouble beyond them being foreign and difficult customs. Speaking plainly, but for the ease of it.

"Oh good, I don't think I am quite capable at the moment. Are they in Indian?" Not knowing much about the country itself. They hadn't acknowledged her after all. So they could keep their sultans as far as she was concerned, she'd only wanted the spices anyway.

"I see," Curious, to the different relations. "So the heart is of the emotions there too. I know it is in Greek and Roman traditions as well... it's fascinating. Please, continue." There really wasn't anything so enjoyable to her as learning. She'd always had a taste for it. Especially when it was something that interested her. Never really had a particular fault with the arcane or occult either, even her father had had astrologers.

It was clear again, that Elizabeth was from an older time; Raven deciding to not go into the tangents of there being no single 'Indian' language per se, or how the heart is the center of the emotions in many many cultures. One step at a time, and it was nice to find another who enjoyed learning, finding out new things.

"There's a lot we've learned since your era, that you'll find fascinating." She contented herself with mentioning, then moved on with the last 3 chakra. "The solar plexus chakra, located just below the heart, is associated with growth of personal power. Like how if you truly need to speak loudly, you don't want to shout from your lungs, but from your diaphragm which is in the solar plexus area."

"The next spot, located just below your belly, is called the Sacral chakra. Associated and representing enthusiasm, and the utilization of creative forces into all aspects of one's being. The last chakra, and usually one starts here and works their way up through the chakras--is the Root chakra. It's located in the groin, and grounds us, relates to basic human instinct and survival."

Raven paused, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. Almost seeming nervous for a moment. "I...mentioned I'm from a far more futuristic time than you yes? I can show you how to meditate through the chakras, but my mode of dress will scandalize you." Her way of warning, as she still very much wanted to be around her majesty.

Those things at least of right this moment, would have gone straight over her head. Her knowledge was so very limited about India at least. Poor island nation not worth trading with indeed.

She took all of it in, it was all very interesting, different to anything she had ever heard, and she completely sure the bishops would burn the girl for saying most of it, but the bishops liked to burn anything that was smarter then them. Thank god they had never gotten around to chopping her head off at least. But she banished those thoughts almost immediately. "Honesty, your clothing is the least of the worries on my mind on this day of all days, but I promise I will be properly aghast like only a paragon daughter of Henry Tudor can be. It involves fainting and a great deal of shocked gasping."

Her ladies did it all the time when they wanted attention from one of the males in present company. She hated it really.