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who: Elizabeth Bennet and you
what: Bits of every day life
when: Throughout the end of September
where: Various places mentioned in prompts
notes: Starting with prose, but will match formats for replies.

Training ground:

With many of those in patrol having gone through the portal home, Elizabeth had been taking more shifts at patrol duty, and looking to see how else she might help. She hoped that taking medical courses at university might let her lend aid in other branches of the guard, more than just taking on patrol duty.

Her training though, that was routine she would never break from. Her warm up always considered of kung-fu forms and combinations, before she moved to the more practical means of combat. Either training with the rifle gifted to her by Cable, with the sword or dagger, or with the training dummies in various spots.

Of course, she'd also welcome a sparing partner if anyone inquired.

Restaurant:

Once a week, Elizabeth liked to treat herself at one of the restaurants, preferably what the Moon considered chinese. Not the sort she was used to of course, but close enough for her to appreciate it.

She usually brought some books as well, a chance to get to in some reading while she ate. Meals by herself often felt like sad affairs, so any way to keep her mind busy without company was welcomed. Along with several dishes and a bowl of rice, she tried not to make a mess of things as she ate.

Her table was by the window, and so when she saw someone she knew, she waved them over. There was more than enough to share after all.

Wild Card: if there's a spefic prompt you want, PM this journal or send a plurk at

Rschwartz501

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Harry began making a point lately of getting out of the hospital for his midday meal after realising he was taking far too many meals alone in his basement office with whatever he could get from the hospital canteen. It was an easy pattern to fall into, but was becoming a slightly grim one.

This particular restaurant is a new one to him, and he had very little idea of what food to expect—or if anyone he knew would be there. He looked around and his gaze lit upon Elizabeth; he waved back to her and made his way to her table.

"Miss Bennet, good afternoon."

She saw him enter and quickly made a spot for him at the table (her books were set where a second person should be seated).

"Good afternoon," She motioned towards the chair at the other side of the table. "Join me?"

"Ah—thank you—that is very kind." He pulls out the chair and sits. "I have never been to this establishment before."

Soon as he joined her at the table, Elizabeth drew the attention of the waiter and asked for a second bowl of rice and a glass of water (silverware and chopsticks already provided). "This is rather fortuitous. I always end up ordering more than I could actually eat at once, a rather sad habit in this place."

Usually this was remedied by taking the rest home for the next day, but she could just easily share with company. "Just mind the books, please."

He moved the books aside—noting at a glance what titles she had—and settled himself down.

"I have found that all too easy to do when dining alone," he agreed. He picked up the chopsticks and frowned slightly. "These are the utensils that are common in China, are they not?"

"They are," And they were all that were provided at the monastery, much to the monks humor at watching several English ladies attempt to use them. "Confucianism forbade wielding sharp items at the table, likely because they gave the impression of violence. Instead, all the food is chopped and prepared in the kitchen, so knives and forks aren't necessary to tear food apart."

Actually, knowing what she knew now of his history, perhaps he might appreciate that bit of lore. "Of course, not everyone is able to master them, so the whole 'no sharp items' is rather overlooked."

Harry is indeed intrigued. "I had heard only of the sticks, not the cultural circumstances behind it. One of the officers on our expedition fought in the Opium War and thus had been to the Far East himself and had stories—but I think he was rather more vexed at not being able to find milk for his tea than in inquiring into the history of the region. Well—that and being shot, of course."

Elizabeth didn't bother to suppress a smile. "No indeed. I think drinking milk with tea is strictly a British tradition. If I saw any milk in my travels to the orient, it was always made into yogurt or pastries of a sort, but never actually used as a beverage. I do believe some nomadic tribes would drink fermented yak's milk, but that is just what I've heard."

She supposed it was possible. Given what she knew now, milk did have sugar in it and anything with sugar could ferment.

A server arrived with a small bowl of rice and glass of water, before asking if there was anything else he wished to drink.

"Tea, if you please," Harry said to the server, adding sidelong to Elizabeth, "with no milk."

After the server left them, Harry said, "Tell me more about your travels. I always wished to see the far East, but—well." But the Northwest Passage had turned out to be a myth, for one thing.

The server gave him an odd look at the order, but nevertheless nodded and made the notes on their pad.

Elizabeth smirked as he sat down. "Well, the length of travel would take around thirty-forty days at a time, mostly on a ship, weather depending. Father had spent his youth there, so he would take the time to teach us the language before arrival. The ports we stopped to restock were in the countries of Africa and India, before arriving in China, though, thankfully most had gone that route before, so it wasn't entirely just with the native population."

The server arrived with some extra rice as well as a small cup and tea for Harry. Elizabeth allowed him a moment to pour himself a cup before continuing.

"Compared to India especially, China wasn't nearly so hot or overcrowded. The people there respected privacy and minded their own business so long as you returned the courtesy. Still, the hardest part of the travels was always getting to the actual temple, as even if you secured carriages, the path was always through the mountains and thus always rough. To stop by an inn, so long as it appeared clean, was always a relief as it meant a temporary rest from traveling."

"Temple?" Harry's interest is piqued. "What manner of temple? I cannot recall—is it Buddhism that is the chief religion there?"

"A sect of Buddhism, yes." She clarified. "It is, difficult to really explain, but the form of Buddhism they practice, called 'zen' is one focuses on meditation and mindful breathing. My sisters and I did not study the history or teachings, as we were not there to be nuns, but most mornings we were called to join in meditation, especially before exercises."

Which compared to the rest of their training, learning to meditate was a welcome respite indeed.

"You must have seen much that few from our land have seen—well, at least in my day and yours," Harry says. "I confess to a certain amount of envy. Though had our journey made it to the East, I don't know that we would have been able to stay so long as to stop over at a monastery."

He rather thinks that some of the crew would have been downright opposed, in any case—Irving, for instance. Thinking of Irving reminds him not only of the expedition, but also the visions that plagued him during the exploration of the abandoned compound; he tries to cover his sudden consternation by turning his attention to the tea.

"It is not uncommon," She answered. "As I have said earlier, most prefer to train in Japan. Traveling to the orient is seen..do men in your time still go on the Grand Tour? It is the same, but rather than exploration and leisure, it is to study the deadly arts."

She wondered if she might be an old, senile woman before she forgot the lessons of her masters-most in part to the physical pain at the end of each day. "You might have enjoyed it. There is a sort of serenity to the temple and the monks that live there."

"Those who can go abroad do, yes," Harry said. "My youngest brother wanted—wants to study on the continent. Though to study medicine, not combat. So that is where you learned ... your skills?"

She helped herself to some larger dishes, setting a few pieces in her rice bowl. "Yes, in the Henan province. The first few months were not about combat, but conditioning the body, and I can tell you the that as soon as one set of muscles was no longer hurting, they would have us work on building another part of us. All of this, and training in reflexes, before we even started learning the techniques."

Even now, after all this time, she could still remember how her muscles ached at night. "Nights were the worst, especially at the start of every lesson, for just how much we weren't used to it. My eldest sister, Jane, she was the only one who never cried, not outloud anyway, but then, that was always her nature to never attract attention to herself."

"It is never easy, training the body to do something to which it isn't accustomed," Harry said. He smiled a little. "I recall once on the expedition, I offered to help pull a sledge. 'There's nothing more natural than pulling weight', I was told. Well, I stumbled and fell after half a dozen steps, and that night felt as if I'd been rolled down a hill."

Elizabeth had been training Alex for quite some time now. Days of her coming home with heavy bruising and icing her body while Richard smirked and watched her pain. Still, he was more than a little beholden to Elizabeth for her training of Alex. The girl needed a way to defend herself. She got into too much trouble not to know how to do so.

So it was sometime later that he found himself standing to the side and quietly watching as he waited for Elizabeth to finish. Her training was, impressive, to say the least, and Richard couldn't help admiring her determination.

Once there was a break in her training, he chose to call out to her. "That's what you make Alex go through?" The tone seemed more amused than curious.

Nearly done with the form, Elizabeth stopped mid strike when she saw the doctor, and relax into a standing position. The form itself was merely to warm up her limbs and perfect the attack-to finish exactly wasn't entirely needed.

"Do you mean the formations?" She inquired. "Not entirely. We have only just begun on reflex training, on top of endurance and strength. Proper sparing still has some ways to go."

Though she hoped by then, Alex would be in better shape to actually defend herself. "And how have you been?

It was interesting to see how meticulous Elizabeth was about this. Compared to Alex who seemed to have a million things going all at the same time, this was steady, relaxing looking. It was knowing exactly where you were going to go and exactly how far you were going to take it. It was controlled, and it was a type of control over Alex. Not that, he was sure, Elizabeth looked at it as such.

"Busy, I suppose. I assume Alex told you about Simon." Of course she would. He was certain she told everyone about Simon and tried to push the boy onto everyone. It was her way.

"She has mentioned him a few times." Certainly enough for her to get why. "And why I should be concerned about him."

Which, she wasn't entirely sure on their connection and how it all fit. Strand yes, she could see that, but not with Simon.

She went over to one of the resting benches for a towel.

"Not concerned." Well, maybe concerned. "More cautious." Richard follows her to the bench, thinking about that. He can't imagine that Elizabeth has anything to be worried about. If Simon hasn't tried to murder Richard in his sleep yet than he doubts that Simon would go after someone like Elizabeth. Besides, he'd been rather good since arriving here, surprisingly.

"Is there anything I should know about him?" Much as she valued Alex's opinion on things, she would also rather someone who 'wasn't' entirely biased against him. At the very least, she suspected (hoped) that Strand wasn't entirely against the young man.

Ironically, Richard was probably more against Simon. Even so, he had the ability to detach himself from the boy; to have a modicum of understanding as to what he was thinking. It would have actually been a bit frightening for those that weren't used to being looked at as a monster.

And yet, he was quiet for a long moment as he took in his thoughts and how his words would affect not only Elizabeth but also Simon himself. Richard knew how words and knowledge could hurt, how allegations could ruin your entire world and send you spiraling into obsession only to prove them false. He wouldn't do that to anyone else.

"What has Alex told you?" It was a starting point at least. It was a place to move from and to allay or confirm what Alex had already instilled inside Elizabeth's mind. It was the least he could do for Simon as well.

"Just that he has had a difficult upbringing and needs to learn to be in social situations." That was the long and short of it really. THough, given his age, now was as any good a time before the bad manners really stood out.

Perhaps her own weren't to be marveled at, but then neither Simon or Alex were born in such a restricted time as hers, so they did have some leeway in behavior. "Of course, this is also being told to a lady whose own father taught her to kill at the age of eight, so I really cannot judge whatever rough patches he might have experienced."

"Yes." Everything Alex had told Elizabeth was correct, to the extent that was comfortable. It also left out several things that Peter had been upset about not knowing. Not that Elizabeth was Peter. No one could be as trusting and innocent as that boy. It was almost criminal. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was more like Richard. She was more apt to take the logical approach with information like that which littered Simon's past, so it was more difficult to decide what she ought to know.

"Simon's past has been, unusual, but he seems to be doing better here. Mostly he needs interaction and friendship, but he's hardly dangerous." The truth was that Elizabeth could probably defend herself against Simon if she had to. She was far stronger than most of Alex's friends. "He also might not bother with you. He barely talks to anyone but Alex."

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Training Ground

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