𝒘𝒊𝒆 𝒆𝒊𝒏 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏 @ankeliebe - Tumblr Blog

Lady Macbeth (2016) dir. William Oldroyd

flattired:

chapter :book i, chapter i location :lobby convenience store tagging : @ankeliebe

some time later, though it was such a relative term in a place where there seemed to be only now, tommy emerged from the convenience store and back into the main lobby. while the space lacked windows to light it well, it seemed that the candles were trying their best, reflected by the crystal hanging above. it was enough light to realize that he was not alone. it takes a few more steps though, which she likely hears – he’s not particularly light on his feet, for him to recognize who. anke. he knew a select few facts about her, mostly that she was smarter than he was; sometimes he would do his best to keep up, but other times he’d simply removed himself from the situation entirely. the academic world had never been exactly kind to him.

however, given the current state of their confinement, darkened for unknown reasons, he thinks maybe she’ll have some answer. ‘ it’s like, pretty freaky-deaky in this place right now. more than usual anyway, ’ he says, his tone somewhat casual despite the circumstances. maybe he’d just grown accustomed to the strangeness, or maybe he’d just fallen in step with it. ‘ you got any of those tricks you do that can fix something like this ? ’

With every passing hour, if that was even a relevant term inside the walls of this place, Anke felt more and more at a loss. She was not about to risk tampering with the electrical box - she was a chemist, not an electrician, and her knowledge of electrical engineering was limited, among other things, to her time - the house would not have it. So, amongst the candles, she scribbles inside her beloved journal, noting down everything she has learned so far under a sloppy title - Stormausfall. Mr. Enright is testing my patience, she writes, what do letters have to do with a lack of electricity?

Footprints alert her to the presence of another, and looking up, Anke can make out the silhouette of a man. Tommy, she recognizes, who adored the experiments she conducted trying to solve the mysteries of the house. Or, out of sheer boredom. Even still, she found that the world of academia, her beloved world of science, might be quite foreign to him. That was a simple hypothesis, however, too bare to prove or disprove for the time being,

“It is as you say, uh, freaky-deeky,” the words gain an unusual tone with her accent. Slang wasn’t a part of her vocabulary, especially in English. “If by tricks you mean science, I have to disappoint you,” she sighs, looking at her notebook, “I’m no electrician, and I doubt this place has an electricity box from 1964. But, we might learn a thing or two from this.” She spins the pen between her slim fingers.

“Do you think blackouts happen regularly and this is just our first time experiencing one?”

#( interactions. )#( tommy 001. )#( chapter 1.)

cherrydiversion:

the voice that came from the other was a little pathetic, the apology coming for something that macie had done. “ i almost took you out and you’re apologizing to me? ” she scoffs, free hand tightens into a fist while the other tightens around the knife. “ i’m fine, are you fine? ” she asks, raising a brow though it’s impossible to see in the dark. “ it’s macie, by the way. i think that’s anke, but i couldn’t be sure. ”

She must have sounded small. The scoff from the other was a testament to that indeed. It was not her intention - staying cool and collected in a situation like this was the ideal she was striving towards. Sounding scared would help no one and only serve to make people worry. Clearing her throat, she offered a weak defense: “Well, I could have been more careful, I suppose. Made my presence known, at least.”

Took her out? So the other, Macie, as she helpfully supplied, was armed. With a knife, most likely. Anke raised her eyebrows. A knife would be much more useful if one could see what they were cutting into. And, in defense of the House, it’s never tried to harm them before. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just trying to see what exactly we’re dealing with.”

Though, judging by Macie’s demeanor, she might be just as lost. “You’re right, it is Anke,” she nodded, “The accent gave it away, didn’t it?”

#( interactions. )#( macie 001.)#( chapter 1.)

lucrloux:

@ankeliebe.

event » candlelight location » somewhere in the raven house

it wasn’t that he didn’t like her… he was sure that anke was a wonderful person– actually, no, he wasn’t sure about any of that. he didn’t know her at all, despite having resided in the same building for far too long. and it was entirely his fault– the young man withdrew when she entered a room. when she spoke, he shut down. he didn’t make an effort to get to know her, and truly it was his loss (not that he would know about that).

so, when the young man found himself in the same room as her / alone, at that / he was far from comfortable. the usual manner in which he held himself, his confidence, suddenly lacking. head lowered he began to fumble with his fingers, ‘ uhh… sorry, i can– uh i can leave if you want to be alone. ‘ he muttered before tilting his head to the side, emerald green hues averting to glance upon the young woman. his curiosity got the best of him. he couldn’t evade her presence forever. ‘ what exactly is it that you are doing? ‘ he had seen her, notebook in hand, making observations, drawing conclusions, setting up hypothesis about the raven house– something about scientific method, or so he was told– he had always been rather horrible at all things scientific.

History is a terrible burden to bear. She’s not quite sure where she heard the phrase last. Perhaps it was her mother who said it while tucking her into bed one night. Or professor Wolf with his poetic manner of speech. Wherever it originated from was a pale and distant memory, growing ever more elusive every moment she spent inside the house. But the phrase remained and found a physical form - one named Luc Rioux.

Anke didn’t know him well. She didn’t know him at all. It wouldn’t have mattered if she didn’t notice the small signs - his discomfort whenever she slipped into her mother tongue, his voice turning quieter as she entered the room. The fact that he seemed to evasive, a phantom to her but to no one else. In her search for an explanation, the year 1955 comes up. She connects the dots. Her theory makes her sick to her stomach. So she avoids him, too.

But unfortunate circumstances brought them together. There, in the lobby, surrounded by candles, Anke tried to focus on her notebook and not the nervous stutter in his voice. It would be best, she wanted to stay, but her mouth remained shut, a hand scribbling messy notes under the title power outage (Stormausfall. She sincerely hoped it was too dark for him to see it). If she was to understand the workings of The Raven House, this predicament of theirs could prove invaluable. His question, however, made her hand stop in its place.

“Just...taking notes,” has her English always been so plagued with her mother tongue? “about what’s happening. Also, I’m trying to determine whether the candles are burning slower or faster than...on the outside.” She stopped herself before she got carried away. Rather, she hoped a single candle, as strange as it sounded, would offer an insight into how time runs in the house. It was easier said than done.

#( interactions. )#( luc 001.)#( chapter 1.)

zhukcva:

location: bar & lounge

music cuts, lights go out; the quiet hits her first. do you know what it is like to sit in silence? you still hear tchaikovsky in your dreams. unease settles, and she washes it down with the rest of her scotch. if this malfunction is out of her hands, then at least she refuses to be scared.

someone takes the seat across from her, though she can’t make out their features in the dim candlelight, the only illumination left. and what a pathetic glow it is—for all its opulence, the raven house should sorely invest in working lightbulbs. “ i don’t suppose you are an electrician, ” she says dryly, pouring herself another glass before holding the decanter out. “ drink? ”

The candles won’t last. A fire needs fuel to burn, and with every passing minute, the wax that was feeding the flame grew sparser. Sooner or later, their only source of light will die out, disappear as if it was never there, to begin with (no, nothing just disappears. The wax simply turned liquid and evaporated. If only the house could be explained in such simple terms).

Needless to say, it gave her a sense of urgency. A time limit. Anke navigated the darkened halls carefully. Though her step was slow, her mind was racing. There ought to be some flashlights somewhere, anywhere.

Drawn to the illuminated bar, she recognizes the woman sitting there. Vasilisa, Vasya. A smile graces her face. And with it, an idea springs to mind. Anke takes a seat next to her. “No, I’m not,” she shakes her head, “and I don’t drink either.” This is the last situation she would want to get drunk in, though she understands, to some extent, the ballerina’s need for alcohol.

“You know, while I would never blame our wonderful host for this situation,” her Russian is laced with her mother tongue and intent, “there has to be a better alternative to these fire hazards we call candles. Say, flashlights. In the basement.”

#( interactions. )#( vasilisa 001.)#tw: alcohol

cherrydiversion:

timestamp: —— , NULL . · location: where else? the raven house , MADNESS TAKES IT’S TOLL . · tagging: open for everyone !

when the power flickered the first time, macie thought maybe she was seeing things. maybe the exhaustion or the stress or something had finally caused her to snap. but then it happened again, and again, until finally the power disappeared completely, leaving the room with a gentle hum. “ shit, ” the word is blown out on a soft breath. fingers instantaneously slide down her thigh to reaffirm that the bowie knife, her safety net, was still within reach as if it ever left. it lessens the tightening in her chest. she fumbles around in the dark for the candle that is kept on the desk in her room. she’d only thought it was decorative. when her fingers finally find purchase on it, she realizes there’s no point. she doesn’t have a light.

stepping into the hall does nothing to help the uneasiness that has settled into her stomach. no emergency lights. what kind of fucking nightmare was this? there’s something, maybe it’s anxiety or knowing she’s been caught in situations like this before, that makes her grip the bowie. using her other hand, she feels down the wall as she walks for the dip that will lead to the stairs. it’s only when she hits the bottom that she runs clear into another body. “ fuck! ” c’mon sullivan, you’re better than that — but hey, at least you didn’t stab them.

Out of everything she had seen and experienced in the Raven House, a blackout was, perhaps, the most mundane event of them all. She was no stranger to the way the lights flickered, or how her world was suddenly plunged into darkness. Under any other circumstance, she’d simply light a candle and continue reading the novel, now left open in her hands. But this was The Raven House. Here, the darkness was unsettling. Eerie. It filled her with a familiar sense of dread. Breathe, Anke. There is always a logical reason for a blackout.

(The weather? No, unlikely. There was no storm today.)

She opened the door and peered into the hallway. There are no emergency lights. There is no candle in her room. Dread mixes with frustration in the pit of her stomach. This situation is more difficult than she thought it would be. Fingers trailing the walls, Anke made her way towards the stairs. Someone must know more.

(It could have been a malfunction. It happened all the time in Berlin. At the most inconvenient of times, of course.)

She should have noticed the sound of footsteps behind her. In her defense, the theories her mind presented demanded her full attention, even if that meant colliding with something - a person - at the bottom of the stairs. She jolts backward, nearly hitting the wall with her back. “Uh,” her voice wavers, “who did I just bump into? Are you alright?”

#( interactions. )#( macie 001.)

( FLORENCE PUGH, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER — oh gosh, sorry ANKE LIEBLEIN ! i didn't see you there ! y'know, i can't believe you're already 26 years old; seems like just yesterday you were tripping over yourself, or was that yesterday ? just kidding, just kidding ! anyway, i hear that you've been here since 1964, or so you think; congratulations ! at least that shining COMPOSED personality of yours hasn't changed a bit, especially that CHARMING + CLEVER, but SUSPICIOUS + EVASIVE way about you. look, i gotta get back to the group, but i'll see you around !

Hello hello! My name is Lou from gmt+1 and I’m beyond excited to join you! Let me tell you - my history-loving heart skipped a beat when I found this group! But anyway, under the cut you’ll find some info for my chem nerd child Anke! If you’d ever like to plot, feel free to leave a like or message me directly!