Una Persson, temporal adventuress (
una_persson) wrote in
west_end_blues2013-01-02 04:55 pm
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open log - different places
Who: Una Persson and anyone.
What: Day-in-the-life open log.
Where: Multiple places. (See the comments.)
When: Now.
Warnings: Will update if needed.
Midday - Sam's Diner
Midday - Sam's Diner
As the cook makes his meal, he glances around once again, this time looking for an abandoned newspaper he can claim, but he finds none.]
Pardon me, miss, could you help an old fellow out by sharing a bit of news of the world?
[Everything he does, his mannerisms, his tone of voice--soft with an Oxford accent--are designed to make him appear innocuous. A harmless gent creeping past the far side of middle aged and into elderly.]
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Of course. I'm finished with this section.
[She offers the front page section of the paper.]
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[He takes the section she offers with his left hand and holds out his right.]
Arthur Furst, at your service.
[It's a pseudonym, one of many. And a play on words for those who are in on the secret. Furst. Alpha.]
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Una Persson. Are you recently arrived here?
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And what about you, Miss Persson? I hear from your voice that you're originally from Dear Old Blighty. Been in the States long?
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[A disingenuous smile.]
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[Working on biological weapons. Mustard gas was one of his specialties.
He was also very good at collecting information. Whenever anything interesting crossed his path--some bit of compromising information or a juicy rumour--he filed it away for a time when it might come in handy.
And although he'd never met Miss Persson, he was sure this woman was familiar. He would need to check his notebooks this evening.]
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I'm afraid that all I'm doing is entertaining. I sing at the Candlelight Club.
Afternoon - shopping
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The cut is nice, but the colour's rather ghastly, isn't it?
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It really is. It's very frumpy.
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London?
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[She smiles again, the woman's accent making her feel more comfortable. It's a small piece of home in a world that's rather hostile to her.]
Dr. Martha Jones, at your service.
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[It's an old hat to assume here, because she's been corrected so many times in the past. However, she takes the offered hand with a smile and shakes it.]
How are you finding the town?
[Martha was founding it troublesome, but she would get used to to it; she was already setting up roots here and roots were the important part.]
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[Martha takes the correction and files it away for the next time.]
I feel like we're going to need to go down to New York for shopping.
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It does seem that way, doesn't it? I tell you, if a proper dressmaker opened up here, they'd have no end of business.
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[Either is a surprise, all things considered.]
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I did my training at Royal Hope. [Which was not a lie.]
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That's extraordinary. I had no idea— [That they were even admitting women, much less—well. She pauses before she can say anything too awkward.] We're lucky to have you here, I imagine.
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[Martha left the sentence hanging, and there was a thinness to her smile. Each of her patients had been a hard-won case, where they had no where else to go. ]
Sadly, I'm working out of my home now.
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Do you mind if I ask how I can get in touch with you? Not that I anticipate ... anything, but one never knows.
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I'm working out of here, if you need me.
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[The card disappeared into Una's purse. She smiled.]
I hope I never see you for anything more serious than a sore throat. But look, we ought to meet for lunch sometime, I think. We newly-landed expatriates should stick together, wouldn't you say?
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[And Martha Jones was more than a little in need of a friend here, but she wasn't going to say that.
Instead she just grinned.]
We should make a date. When would you like to get together?
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[Because of the not wanting to go in there alone bit. Not because she was frightened of being in one, but because she didn't know how the owner would react to having her in by herself.
With someone else, it was a different story.]
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[Martha tucked the note in her bag, just in case.]
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[It was funny really how much better having a chance to hang out with a friend was making her. It was almost like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
And she'd deal with anything about the color of her skin that day and not worry about it.]
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[She grinned and waved, and turned to go.
She could tell they were being talked about by the other people in the store. Bloody busybodies. To hell with them. Una went on with her day with a new in her step.]
Evening - at the Candlelight Club
Night - leaving the club