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Who: Jane Doe + YOU
Where: Different places in the mansion
When: 7-4 happy birthday 'murica but this has nothing to do with that.
Rating: PG but please warn for anything if that changes!
Summary: Jane's around, doing stuff. things. sparked by the CR meme!
The Story:

library

[Situated in a chair with a sketch book and lost in thought, Jane's sitting curled up in a comfortable chair, charcoal pencil hard at work on the paper. There are a lot of random doodles, even different portraits or profiles of people she's seen come and go from her time here so far. The ironic thing about her memory is that she doesn't remember anything about her past, but once she sees a face, it tends to stay with her. Without really think too hard about it, her pages begin to fill up with different faces, some she doesn't even have a name for yet. Maybe, if you glance over, you'll see your own image in black and white.]

gym

[She's been here before, usually jumping rope, then hitting a punching bag for a while before working on pull ups or running on a treadmill. She needs to distract herself from wanting to use her phone for anything at the moment, focusing instead on her breathing and sets of reps. She's so into her own routine that when she sees an empty machine she commanders it, without realizing that someone's actually using the leg lift and only stepped away for a moment. Once she's comfortable she goes to work, earbuds in, listening to what's been described to her as 'pop' music. Whatever that is. It's mindless, and sure, she'll listen about hitting it baby, one more time. It's better than accidentally discovering heavy metal when her volume was at full blast.]

movie night!*

[With a few different people, she's decided to start watching what are supposedly popular movies, or important movies in different genres. She's even open to things from other worlds because honestly? It's not like she knows the difference. Her place is well furnished now, the walls a soft, pale purple with homey touches that are even better than what she had in her safe house because she got to pick it all out on her own. No one from the FBI told her what she could and couldn't have. The framed artwork on the walls are her own pieces, and she's proud now of her space. Enough to have people over, and she walks into the living room with popcorn and drinks, sitting down.]

So, what's this one called again?

[Asked as she grabs the remote to press play on the DVD player.]

music room

[Jane had no idea she could play the piano when she sat down. That's how she figures out a lot in her life, by experiencing and being surprised at the end result. But when she'd found the music room on the second floor, something about the instrument made her feel like she needed to sit. Her fingers found the keys, and now she's playing. She's not even sure what it is, just that she's doing it somehow. It's like dancing with Kurt, or opening her mouth and hearing a different language come out. It happens, and she keeps playing. The music is first on her mind, but the thought that she wonders who taught her, or why, lingers. Maybe she had parents who taught her, or maybe someone forced her to learn because it was an asset somehow, or part of a cover. She just doesn't know, but it's pretty, and relaxing, so she continues to play.]

(*ooc: for the movie night, if we've had cr, consider this an open invitation to come to Jane's with a movie to watch!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

My guess is an artist is at work by the sounds of it. Am I right or am I right?

_{[Anders is only passing through the library, killing time by rifling through stacks of potentially helpful books, eventually drifting into Jane's section of the library. He's a few feet from her facing a shelf and can only guess at what kind of work the dark-haired woman is bent over, but the rhythmic scritch of pencil on paper suggests sketching.

His friendly observation is the result of a few moments of having his ear cocked to the sound, and once delivered he turns and smiles.]}

I'm not blocking the view of a still life portrait, am I?

_{[Maybe she has a deep appreciation for library architecture and now there's a skinny mage in her line of sight. He's walked into the middle of stranger things.]}

[Jane smiles softly as she finishes up a few lines, and then she looks up, shaking her head.]

No, I'm just drawing from memory.

[On one side of the page is Kurt, and on the other is Sarah. That's the one Jane's working on now, so it's not quite done, but if he knows her, he'd probably be able to tell who she is.]

I haven't gotten around to drawing the library yet, but I did manage to get the gardens down. At least partially.

_{[Anders lets his finger fall from the spine of the book he'd been considering and turns more fully to face her, satisfied he hadn't interrupted her peace by speaking up.]}

That sounds a tad more exciting than sketching rows of bookshelves.

_{[Okay, now he's a little curious. Sue him, Jane.]}

Is this the sort of secret project you can't show the public?

[She smirks a little, then hands the sketchbook to him completely, which she'd never do if she wasn't okay with him looking through everything.]

Knock yourself out. My secret project never leaves my room.

Well, they do say every woman needs her secrets.

_{[The offer of the sketchbook makes him grin, wide and amused, before he comes nearer to take it. Hey, he won't pass up the chance to snoop on someone else's pastime. It would only be polite to snoop now that she's given him an all-access pass.]}

I've done a few extensive cat doodles in my day so I fancy myself a bit of a art prodigy. I'll have you know I intend to give a thorough critique--

_{[He abruptly loses track of his own joke when he turns the pad around and sees what's on it. Or rather, who.]}

Oh, hey, look at that, I'd recognize that chiselled jaw and severe brow anywhere. _{[Looking at you, Mr. Kurt "I look angry even when I'm smiling" Weller.]} It's the Wellers. You can really tell who got all the looks in the family.

_{[Obviously he means Sarah, ahem.]}

[He's funny, has a good sense of humor, but then he recognizes Kurt and Sarah and Jane sits up a little more.]

You know them?

[But then she smirks.]

Kurt can definitely look a little intimidating. I can verify as someone who's seen him smile that it's all an act.

_{[He shoots Jane an amused look from over top of the sketchbook, lips curling in an answering smirk.]}

Which part, the intimidation or the smiling?

_{[Kurt had been an all right fellow, truth be told, but he's an easy target. Anders looks from the completed drawing of Kurt to the one of Sarah that's still in progress.]}

You're good, this is an excellent likeness. I made Sarah's acquaintance when she first arrived and showed her around a little--I think she must have gotten all the charm in the family, too. He lent me a hand with something last month, though I didn't know they were brother and sister at the time.

[Something clicks then, and she tilts her head to the side.]

You're that guy she was telling me about.

[And that's all Jane's going to say about that, with a little smile.]

You can tell they're related if Sarah's angry, but honestly, it takes a lot. Whereas Kurt...his job doesn't lend itself to not being stressed the majority of his day.

[Annnnnnd she hasn't helped with that.]

_{[Anders' eyebrows spring up in amusement and he points to himself like "who, me?"]}

I got an honorable mention? I hope her account wasn't too bad.

_{[Whatever it is, he swears he didn't do it, Jane. He has a policy of giving blanket apologies for everything he's ever possibly said or done to cover his bases. You know, just in case. If anyone's probably cursing his name, though, his sovereigns are on Kurt.]}

I'll keep that in mind. Underestimating a woman's temper is just asking for trouble, I always say. _{[Curiously, he thumbs through a few more pages, admiring Jane's work as they talk.]} What's his job? I'm guessing it's not aiding people who've never seen a DVD player before Wonderland.

Maybe the words 'very nice' were used, so don't worry. She appreciated everything you did. I don't want to speak for her, though.

[He'll find drawings of a lot of different people and places around Wonderland. Kurt does come up more than once, though.]

He's part of a team that responds to large threats. Like people trying to commit crimes on a huge scale and really hurt people.

[She tries to stray away from words like FBI because she's...positive that doesn't exist for everyone.]

Oh, I'm going to start blushing soon with talk like that. Don't worry, I won't tell her you said anything. _{[A chuckle.]} She seems like a very nice woman herself. You're a friend of theirs, then?

_{[Close friends, maybe. Jane's realistic sketches seem to suggest a familiarity with them, especially Kurt and his strong jaw.

Not bad for a creative muse. Handsome in a rugged, alpha male sort of way.]}

So... a bit like a constable in a judicious sense of the word? A hero out to save the world? Protector of the people?

I worked with Kurt at his job. Actually I'm a case.

[She holds out her arms so all the tattoos are visible.]

They're all over and each one leads to organized crime that needs to be stopped. I don't know how, I don't remember getting them, and I'm a pretty big mystery. I met Sarah through Kurt.

[Back when they all thought she was Taylor Shaw and things would be okay.]

But yeah, I guess that describes him. He'd do anything to make sure people were safe, but he'd never call himself a hero.

A case?

_{[He lowers the sketchbook, attention going to the tattoos she has on display. Now that she's raised her arms, he can see there are far more than he'd thought at first glance. Many, many more, circling her arms and disappearing down into the folds of her shirt.

Ink on pale skin is aesthetically interesting, beautiful in its own unusual and uncanny way, but what she says next has him wrinkling his brow, thinking he's misheard.]}

Did you say they're tattoos about... crimes? _{[Now he's intrigued. He moves closer to her table to get a better look at her forearms.]} I was wondering if you'd had a hand in designing them like these sketches, but you don't remember having them done? What happened, you woke up one morning decked out like a painting?

_{[It's supposed to be a joke.]}

[Jane nods as she looks at him.]

I don't remember it at all. And I kind of wish it had been as non-traumatic as you're describing. I...my memory was erased. I don't remember anything at all before a few months ago, and...I was stuffed inside of a bag and left outside for Kurt to find.

[She doesn't really want to get into the intricate details, if only because it's complicated, and she did a lot of drunken talking a few week ago. Its a much longer when you're sober and not actually feeling full of regret for the moment.]

_{[The more she goes on, Anders expression shifts to reflect what can only be described as... careful alarm. Maker's breath, that sounds...

Trauma is a good word for it.]}

You were dumped somewhere without your memories and a set of tattoos? I thought it was just an artistic statement on your part.

_{[Apparently not.]}

I suppose I shouldn't ask how drunk you were the night before.

Edited (whoops, let's actually c/p the whole tag, shall we) 2016-07-26 07:38 (UTC)

[His comment makes her let out a short laugh because if you can't laugh then what else is there, honestly. But then she clears her throat and shakes her head.]

If I was, then I don't remember. But the FBI's figured out a lot about me. [Not enough.] They found out this tattoo was covering another one that I must have gotten on my own. Underneath this is a tattoo that a specific type of solider gets.

[She's pointing to a large black shaped box on her bicep.]

So, once they figured that out, they started testing me to see what I can and can't do. But they still don't know my name, where I'm from.

If you were, you'd win for drinking stories.

_{[But it's not that funny in reality and he doesn't laugh. Closing the sketchpad, he slides it across the table back to its rightful owner.

The plot thickens. He takes it to mean the "FBI" is the group Kurt's with wherever they come from. No wonder they'd be interested in tattoos if they have such significance. He looks at the opaque black rectangle inked into her skin, struggling to imagine what it would be like to have his entire past reduced to a literal blank, black slate on his arm.]}

But they know you're a soldier? That's a start. The rest should follow, right? In my experience, the past is hard to outrun; it catches up with you one way or the other. What do you call yourself these days? My name's Anders, but I'll let you in on a little secret: it's not the one I was born with, either.

_{[He winks. The truth about his name isn't one he shares with people, generally speaking, but it seems like a fair trade to share a nugget about his past to make someone who doesn't have one feel less alone in adapting to a new identity.]}

[Her past was slamming into her, faster than she knew how to deal with, but all of that is a story for another time, she thinks.]

Oh, sorry, I'm Jane. They call people who have no identity 'Jane Doe.' Just a generic name. Men are John Doe. I like it. I like that I'm becoming whoever I want to be. Who I was is...complicated, so this is nice. And being here is kind of an okay thing for me.

That's a popular naming scheme in your world, is it?

_{[A name that signifies a lack of an identity? Ferelden doesn't share the same tradition, so it sounds like a rather sad name to adopt if you ask Anders, who lifts an eyebrow in uncertainty.

But when he thinks about it, is it really any worse than naming yourself the generic term for the people of the Anderfels?]}

As long as you like it, that's the main thing, I suppose. Did they get the culprit? The person who did all that and put you in a bag? Which, by the way, is an incredibly tasteless thing to do to anyone, but especially someone as lovely as you.

_{[As he'd say to any woman. But in all seriousness, that's a demeaning thing to do to a person, any kind of person.]}

[She'd honestly laugh, but. Then she'd have to explain why. Because, yep, they caught her. She's sitting right here. Instead, she clears her throat and shakes her head.]

No, not yet. There's apparently a large group that wants to over-throw the government and I somehow got caught up in it. But, you know. No memory.

[At least that part isn't a lie at all.]

Sorry. For your sake, I was hoping this story had a happy ending. If your secret project isn't an elaborate plan to take your revenge, it should be. I'd say you're justified.

_{[What's it like, losing your memory and then being catapulted through space and time into this place, a realm that steals memories? He thinks to ask, but he'd be afraid of hearing the answer.]}

For what it's worth, you wear tattoos well.

_{[Knowing they'd been forcibly put on her makes this comment considerably less flirtatious than it would be otherwise.]}

It still might.

[Long shot. She does smile though, looking down at her arms.]

Thank you. I hated them at first, but...they're growing on me, I think. Especially because even if they were put on as some kind of...conspiracy, they are really helping people. We've even saved a couple of kids.

Oh, I'm sure it will. Once you get out of here, taking care of that should be a piece of cake. And your friend Kurt seems like the type to be a dog with a bone.

_{[He rests his hip against the table, considering the mish-mash of symbols and images crawling up her arms.]}

They could've just said it with a letter, but if those tattoos are saving lives, they can't be all bad. _{[A silver lining?]} How many do you have, exactly? They're everywhere.

Kurt can be...intensely focused when he sets his mind to something.

[That's the best way she can describe it, really, but she says it with all the fondness.]

It's been really hard to count some of them. There are tattoos within the tattoos, they over-lap.

[She bends to roll up her pant legs, so he can see that they do indeed wind all the way up her legs and sides.]

Over a hundred, for sure. And those are just the ones you can see. There are tattoos all over my face done in ink you can only see under certain lighting.

Who'd go to all the trouble of turning someone into a human puzzle game? That's insane.

_{[Vile, too, but the intensive work that must have gone into creating messages within messages and permanently marking them on someone's skin is something Anders struggles to wrap his head around.

He can hardly believe what he's seeing when she shows the tattoos aren't just on her neck and arms. They're on the lower half of her body as well, winding up her legs like the pages of a picture book.]}

And some in invisible ink? Yeesh. I know the Dalish tattoo their faces, but even they don't go this far.

_{[How Jane is holding it together is the real mystery. Had this happened to Anders, he'd likely be in the fetal position on the floor.]}

Library

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