Play@YSDC

St. James's Church - London, England
9:20 PM - Saturday, September 7, 1940

Anna Jerkins opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and entered the basement of the church, which had been converted to a makeshift air raid shelter. It was filled with stray odds and ends including some spare pews kept here for storage, as well as an old church organ. Two old ladies sat on one of the pews, speaking to an Asian-looking woman of incredible beauty. An elderly man sat on another, and a pretty, young blonde woman lay on a third, both asleep as well.

Phyllis, Maggie, and Tinker looked up when the door opened and saw the pretty young woman enter. She was in her mid-twenties, tall and slender, pretty, and with long brown hair.

"Umm...hi?" Anna said, uncertain and slightly nervous. She had found that she was the last person on streets after assisting the invalids and her colleagues working in the clinic towards nearby bomb shelters. All the nearby ones were full; and her nerves were frayed. Being the only person walking on the streets during an air raid aren't exactly something that put you in a happy and carefree state of mind. "I'm Anna, practising Alienist. Pleased to meet...you?" She smiled weakly, and sat down on the nearest seat.

"Hello there miss, come have a seat with us." The Asian woman stood up, brushing off her skirt and then brushing the dust off of a nearby spot of the pew.

"My name is Tinker, practicing...well tinker I guess, but not much of that recently. Please, have a seat. Tea? Snacks?" Tinker offered her a small bright pink ball "Try one, they're delicious."

"Oh. Uh, sure. I'll have one if you don't mind." Anna moved towards Tinker and the others, and carefully placed her large handbag on the floor. She took a bite of the bright pink ball of...something. It was, to her mild surprise, quite delicious. "They're delicious! What's it called?" She gasp in delight, some more warmth creeping into her voice. It had flavours and textures! That was a significant improvement to the bland cardboard paste they served at the clinic.

"I see! This is pretty interesting!" Anna chuckled, flashing a friendly grin towards Tinker, "Sorry if I seem a bit...out of it,
but the damned bombing took me by surprise. I was monitoring Patient #314 when the air-raid sirens rang. I'm stll having a hard time recovering from that." She said this with a dazed expression before pulling out a small notebook and a pen from her handbag to jot down notes.

"I'm just trying to jot down my emotions and mental state during times of extreme stress. It's for a thesis I've been working on for the PhD degree." Anna explained hurriedly, "I don't want to look weird, but...can I ask about you current state of mind as well? I'll make sure to protect your anonymity."

"Patient #314 huh? Hopefully you aren't in charge of all the preceding that one too, sounds like it would be quite the workload." Tinker smiles.

"No that isn't too weird, education is important, I have gone through my fair share and learning about something without picking others' brains is difficult for sure." Tinker's face scrunches up as she thinks, "I suppose I am doing alright. I have been in a warzone or two before so I am sort of used to it. Though I think this is my first time being on the receiving side of an aerial bombardment." She smiles again, "But who knows, I have only just arrived so that may cloud my feelings on the matter."

Anna giggled, "Thankfull not. Our clinic are a subsidiary of Maxwell Sanitarium five blocks down, so sometime patients gets transferred here to receive new diagnosis...and sometimes we transfer new ones to them." She signed slightly, before quickly scribbling down Tinker's comment. "Patient #314 suffers from a confusing array of physical ailments and mental imbalance. He have episodic amnesia and is prone to night terrors. I was in charge with ensuring the corresponding treatments were administered with patients like #314. I'm still in my residency period, so the colleagues that I would rather not accuse by name spend their days giving me all the difficult and uncooperative patients so that they don't have to deal with them."

Her face fell slightly, visibly down, before quickly brightening up again. "But at least I got to help other people and my experience with helping people like them inspired my thesis ideas. So it's fine, I guess." She said in a bubbly manner, it seemed like her infectious optimism can break through even the toughest of barriers as she happily chatted with Tinker. She turned to look at the somewhat aged women sitting not far away and shined a bright smile at her. "Hello. How are you, my good lady? You look absolutely charming."

"Thank you, lassie," said one of the old women, "though you're rather prettier than I am. In my younger days, though...I'm Maggie Duncan, and I'm doing quite well myself. I'm not afraid. Unlike this young lady, I have been through air raids before, in the last war. I got through them all right. This one is going on a long time, but it too will end. Either I'll survive, or I won't. If I don't, I've lived a long, full life, and I've made my peace with my Maker. When I die, I'll join my husband. In the meantime, I help who I can."

Anna's eyes brightened and she excitedly jotted down what Maggie said, "Miss Duncan, I think this is a beautiful message! It's inspirational and bright. Speaking from the perspective of a medical practitioner who've taken Hippocratic Oath, I couldn't agree more with your sentiment, ma'am!" She said happily, before gently starting to hum along to the melody of an Australian ditty called 'The Bare Bellied Ewe'.

"I understand you've gone on in years, but don't you find it frustrating to sit by the wayside and do nothing?" Tinker asks. "Forgive me if I am rude, I do find your peace with the world admirable, but I can't help but feel anxious doing nothing to help."

"It's Mrs. Duncan, luv," said Maggie with a smile. "Thank you, I can see we are much alike." She focused on Tinker. "I'm hardly doing nothing. Mrs. Cruckshank and I are part of the Women's Institute. We help people who have suffered hardship, and there are a lot more of them with this blasted war on. We may not wear uniforms, but we do our bit. I'm sure there's something you can do too."

"Oh my! I'm so sorry, Mrs. Dncan, that I got your title mixed up. I must've been thinking of someone else! Excuse me." Anna said apologetically towards Mrs. Duncan. Politely shaking her head, before carefully reaching to drink some tea. The tea, was now somewhat lukewarm after a while of being left out in the open, but it still tasted just fine. She quenched her thirst slightly from talking. "I hope I'm not being too intrusive, but is that your husband sleeping over there?" Anna gestured to elderly man resting near Mrs. Duncan.

Maggie laughed. "Och, no," she said. "That's Reverend Giles Curry, the rector of this church. No, my husband passed away in 1918. He survived the last war only to fall to the flu. I miss him every day."

"Oh." Anna's smile faltered a little, looking at Mrs. Duncan with a slightly forlorn expression, "I am so sorry for your loss. Do you want to talk about it? I can try to help if you ever need someone to alleviate your pain. My teacher, mister Sigmund, had taught me a bit about how to assist." Anna offered helpfully.

She signed, "Mister Sigmund passed away a year ago, it was...terribly saddening that my mentor and guide in this strange exploration of the psyche had passed away. I can only hope that he went to a happier place than here." Anna lamented sadly before she stared timidly Mrs. Duncan. "I'm sorry, I'm sure I sounded really selfish there for making this about me all of a sudden. It's just that...I was reminded of my teacher's demise."

ooc,Uh, do you think I should give my Psychoanalysis skill a roll here?

Anna stared at Mrs. Duncan for a short while before quickly saying, "While I don't think you'll be needing my help any time soon, but I just want to tell you that venting pent-up emotions every once in a while does wonders. But I do have to say that you're perhaps one of the most...together person I have ever met in my sort career." She said sincerely, giving a reassuring smile towards Mrs. Duncan. Friendliness is key, after all. "I know this doesn't mean much since I've only been a practising alienist for a short period of time, but I guess I just wanted to tell you that.
Heh-heh."

"Thank you, dear," said Maggie. "You seem quite together yourself. If you're looking for someone who could use your help, Laura over there might qualify." She motioned toward the young blonde asleep on another pew. "The poor lass is terrified out of her mind. She's asleep now, so it's probably best not to disturb her, but when she wakes up, you might want to talk to her."

"I'll make anote of that. Don't worry, missus. It's the least I can do after you offered me so much hospitality." Anna whispered quietly, as if afraid that she might accidentally wake up Laura. "A stranger is just a friend that I haven't met yet! I'm sure we'll have a great time talking together." She said with hushed optimism, wearing the starry-eyed expression of someone who's passionate about their career.

All this time, the other old lady had been rummaging in her vast handbag. "Well, unless I turn the whole bag inside out I can't find it. I'm sure it was in here though; very puzzling." She closes the bag securely and looks up. "Sorry Dears. I have been listening though. You seem to be a very industrious young lady." She says to Anna, casting a glance at Tinker. "I am Mrs Cruckshank. Mrs Duncan and I do Good Deeds; charity work, help towards the War Effort, the WI and such. What does an 'Alienist' do exactly?"

Anna turned towards Mrs. Cruckshank with good cheer and a tiny wave, even though they were in the same room "I'm glad you asked, Mrs. Cruckshank! Despite the booming growth in the industry, very few people have the common sense of stopping for introspection of the craft they undertook! Truly a curious thing, isn't it? Well, an alienist is a researcher of the human psyche, I practise the art of alleviating all the ills of the mind from those afflicted. Oft times, I find myself question the validity of the field and wonder, can we ever truly grasp the inner workings of the mind?" Anna said passionately, explaining the basic concept of study of alienism to Mrs. Cruckshank patiently whilst refilling for a second cup of tea. Her brows furrowed slightly in concentration as she held a flask of tea in her arms while simultaneously going over the notes she had taken over the last thirty or so minutes. She wasn't quite sure of how much time had passed, exactly, but she forgot to bring her pocket-watch in all the pandemonium of an impending air raid.

"Oh I see, Dear." Mrs Cruckshank clearly didn't, nor was she much taken by the phrase "Practise the art" it did all sound slightly rather occult. She sniffed. "Each to their own I suppose. Are you in a similar line of work?" She asked Tinker, thinking it quite likely from the look of her.

"The workings of the mind are a difficult thing to understand; helping a broken mind even more so" Tinker says, nodding at Anna.

She turns to Mrs. Cruckshank, "Me? No, while I have dabbled in some sciences, I much prefer to work with my hands and fix the physical." Tinker looks down at her traditional dress and gives a small laugh, "Though with how I am dressed, you wouldn't think I do anything of the sort. I suppose if I had an occupation it would be something like a traveling handyman - thus the name Tinker."

"What did you do before the war, grandm--- err Mrs. Cruckshank?"

Anna laughed happily at Tinker, "Thanks for showing understanding for my profession of choice, miss! I must say most people don't have a very well-established understanding of the field at all. It's not the craft of witch-doctors nor is it some esoteric art of magically grants you enlightenment. No, no, that's for the monks of the east to do; not us." She babbled a bit excitedly, "However, I personally disagree slightly with your view of the handicapped. To call them broken implies that they can be 'fixed'...most couldn't. Furthermore, what if the ones born with such ailments of the brain? Can it truly be argued that they're broken as well."

Anna timidly glanced at Tincker, "I appreciate your kindness, I really do. But, unlike some of my colleagues, I believes that my patients are, at their core, human. Regardless of what impaired them and we must understand them as such. Oh a lighter note, I love your dress, miss Tincker! It's beautiful," Anna said the last part with a slightly wistful voice, "I wish I could buy dresses and clothing as pretty as this from the nearby women's clothing, but apparently their idea of fashion disagree mine. Heh."

"It is beautiful fabric." Mrs Cruckshank conseded, "If a little outlandish. My Cecil was good with his hands; he was an engineer; a good one. I reckon he'd have had one of the first automolbiles but he died in the Boer War so they say; he never came home at any rate." Mrs Cruckshank sighed sadly. "Anyway, I've been doing My Bit since then; always busy."

"It is Korean traditional wear - so yes a bit outlandish, as you say, especially for these parts" She blushes at the compliments to her clothing.

Tinker nods sympathetically to the old woman, "I am sorry for your loss. In my experience, keeping busy is about all you can do to numb that pain..."

"I have never actually seen many people from the orient before. To be honest, the dress was a bit...surprising, but it looks very nice. Sorry, I must sound like a broken record." Anna said sheepishly.

Don't be sorry. To be honest I have only spent a few years in the East myself. I have lived in the UK and the States for much longer than I was ever out there. Tinker says.

"I see. That came as a bit of a surprise." Anna said with a slightly surprised expression. She had been reading some of her old notes in her notebook.

OOC,Everyone is moving to the thread linked below:

The Long Night