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Post by Ann Darrow on Jan 18, 2013 14:00:13 GMT -5
She was lost, so very, very lost in this strange world. While she hated her own, filled with cruelty and hatred, people intent on destroying every last shred of mystery there was in the world and destroying it until nothing remained but ash... she was lost here. She was accustomed to towering sky scrapers, buildings rising as high as they eye could see, the noises of cars and drunkards shouting obscenities from the corner. he was accustomed to streets and sidewalks, not dirt roads and buildings constructed of wood and straw. She did not know where she was or how she had gotten here, all she knew was that it wasn't Earth and if it was she was somewhere special... like on Skull Island.
Large, innocent eyes glanced at the seemingly never-ending streets of vendors, all manner of people gave her odd looks, but she was accustomed to such things back on Earth, of course these looks were more than likely aimed at her attire and not because she had risked her life to save a monstrous gorilla. A small smile quirked her mouth at the thought of him. He was here, back in the vast and numerous forests and she had no intention of lingering in this city long while he waited for her.
She had managed to procure some slender black riding boots, and her feet had not been cold since, but attire... she just couldn't bring herself to purchase a corset. The harlots and the whores wore those in her time... the burlesque dancers who held no shame nor modesty and Ann simply couldn't bring herself to purchase one, and so having her long white dress cleaned up and fixed, she still wore it. For this world it was indecent, it shoved the curvature of her calf. Of course it was confined within the thick black leather, but the looks continued and Ann paid them no heed, she was not here to impress them.
She brushed a stray lock of her curled golden hair back behind her ear and held out a shilling to a gentleman selling apples. He looked leery of her, but took the coin and passed her the fruit and she continued on her way, the small smile still lingering about her face. I wonder if some of these ladies might just faint if they ever walked into a burlesque theater? She giggled quietly as she thought of such things.
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Post by Dorian Gray on Jan 18, 2013 14:43:51 GMT -5
It wasn't much, but Dorian was going to indulge himself in something today. Anything, really, to get his mind off of some of the things that had been going on about his life. He was an abusive, cruel man, and he was growing harder and colder by the day. There were things that never should have happened, lives he never should have interfered with, and since this morning, all he'd been able to be was angry with himself. He'd gone out with his quiver to shoot quail, the only outlet he could find for his ire. Now, he found himself resorting to immersing back into the public eye for his life management, knowing of no other way to forget his troubles. The painting took his sins; why wouldn't it take his emotions?
The market was bustling, as always, and though Dorian usually did himself well within large crowds, today he felt lost. Should he find opium, he would buy the lot of it without a second thought. Should he find alcohol, he would buy several bottles and spend the rest of the day with it. Should he find a pretty woman... well, actually, he didn't know about that one. His melancholy, self-revolting mood disallowed for that. Right now, he'd had enough lovers for a lifetime, he thought.
He went from vendor to vendor, scanning and scouring their goods for anything that could make him feel better. He wanted to feel like himself; carefree, burdenless, and happy just to indulge in life. Flowers? Not so... Jewels? He'd plenty... Fabrics? He had enough to make a hundred shirts... Fruit? Och, well, food was always something. He handed over a coin for an orange, before seeing someone who stopped him in his thoughts.
She'd just bought something, too. An apple. And was she pretty... Not befitting of the time, at all, and looking like an obvious misfit in the crowd of this time. Even Dorian had learned to cope with the dress; today he did not look like a duke but a commoner in a cambric shirt and tan trousers. He only wore his prized Victorian dress when he needed to look important. "Miss--" he interrupted her midstride. Hell. What was he going to say? He was stripped right now of his charm, as struck down in depression as he was. He felt like an absolute failure. "Pardon me..." His efforts were lost.
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Post by Ann Darrow on Jan 18, 2013 16:11:02 GMT -5
Ann was a misfit regardless of where or who she traveled with. She had a kind disposition with a love for life and all things living. She saw beauty in the most foul of places, and ugliness in the most luxurious. Ann choose to see the world not with her eyes but with her heart. She loved to make the world laugh and she enjoyed bringing joy to people's lives, it was why she struggled so hard to become an actress on Broadway, the sound of someone's enjoyment at her silly antics was the simple pleasure that she lived for. Jewels and garments swathed in riches had little to no value to her, juggling for the orphans and making them laugh was priceless. A bizarre creature both in her time and this one and she doubted she really fit in anywhere. Kong was the only creature who seemed to understand her many vast layers.
She crunched into the apple with small bites, loving the taste of the ripe juice upon her tongue, it was the simplicity in life that made her smile. Someone called out to her and she turned to face them, grey eyes widening impossibly, the innocence that seemed to radiate from her, centered in those bright orbs, before her stood her polar opposite, hair as dark as a ravens wings and eyes just as black, his attire was simple and neat while hers was fairly formal. His skin was perfect and unblemished and her own was vibrant and filled with life. She frowned as he seemed to back pedal just as quickly as he had captured her attention and she saw the despair in his eyes. Quickly, her hand shot out to his shoulder, caressing the tense muscle soothingly as she dipped her head to capture his gaze.
"Is something wrong? Are you alright?" The kindness and the compassion in her voice could not be false, the good in her heart simply would not allow her to leave anyone in distress, young or old, big or small, and this man looked for all the world like he needed a hug.
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Post by Dorian Gray on Jan 20, 2013 20:03:58 GMT -5
Dorian had determined that he was absolutely addicted to melancholy. He could not keep himself from it right now, and since there was nothing else that he could be addicted to, it seemed the fairly obvious and easiest choice. He could labor inhis sadness for days, for weeks. It was not hard but it hurt. Then again, pain was better than nothing else. It was better to have a heart that bled dark scarlet than to sit and feel the numbness of keeping one's soul stowed away elsewhere.
Beginning to peel the orange, Dorian caught her eye. He was so used to pointing out beautiful women that it was second nature, and even in his lonely depression, he would not miss one. Of course, there had gone his eloquence. He'd already screwed up; she'd never go with him now. It was probably better that way, really; he was too full of despair and anger both to ever offer the pleasure he normally could.
He tensed immediately when she touched him, feeling more like a pariah than a devonaire enchanter today. He broke from her gaze to catch a frustrated breath and then met it again, knowing it was useless now trying to hide his now-vibrant emotions. "I'd hate to trouble you, darling," he told her with a lacing of passive apology in his voice. He reached up to take her hand from his shoulder, but then could not bring himself to release her hand from his own. There was something of her tone that intrigued him. She was... benevolent. Something he'd never truly learned.
"I am Dorian, though, and I would do well to have some companion, if just for a few minutes, Miss..." He asked in a questioning tone, hoping to procure a name. At least his words had decided to return to him, now. He tried for a smile but failed pathetically.
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Post by Ann Darrow on Jan 23, 2013 20:41:41 GMT -5
Short blonde hair, and a dress that did little to stave off the bitter cold of winter, she watched the world tick by with wide, doe-like eyes, always had. Her kindness was always her greatest weakness. She could do no evil, had never possessed the ability, and thus she had let people, directors and other actors mainly, trample right on over her. It was both her greatest gift and her greatest curse. People had shunned her, but a monster of massive proportions had fallen in love with her. Had died to be with her. The irony was not lost upon the woman.
"It's no trouble at all, I've scarcely met anyone in this strange world, and I would love for some company."She smiled gently, both for his own encouragement and to offer him some truth within her words. She had met John a scarce few weeks ago and he had left her utterly confused, he had claimed her entire life was nothing but a movie. That she wasn't actually real, that Kong wasn't real, but she felt real, she had memories of parents and family gatherings, of things that happened on Skull Island... and she was here, and so was Kong... they couldn't be nothing more than the product of someone's imagination could they? She did not like to brode on it.
This gentleman seemed haunted, tragic, his gaze was lost, his thoughts elsewhere, something had wounded him deeply, hurt him in a way he probably knew not how to fix... how did she know this? She had seen the same look reflected in her gorillas eyes once they drugged him and Jack held her back to keep her from swimming to his aide. So lost, so tragic, so broken. She had not been able to help her dear friend, but perhaps she could help this poor fellow.
"It tis a pleasure to meet you Sir Dorian. My name is Ann Darrow... where would you like to go? I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with this place." She laughed lightly carelessly. Here she had no New Yorkers to curse her or to make fun of her. They knew nothing of her tangle with Kong and she felt strangely liberated, perhaps a change in worlds was not so terrifying.
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