"And maybe this is why when Pandora opened the box that carried such calamities which inflicted all of mankind, gentle hope emerged too."
- an excerpt of Nikita Gill's poem "Where Hope Comes From"
or in which
the timechild is saved and finds the...
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Cardiff, Wales 1869
Pandora Fletcher often went out on her own much to her adoptive fathers dismay. Blonde hair coiled into a proper updo now that she was 18, and an event on her mind. Pandora walked with purpose, chin up just as Abigail had taught her.
Abigail taught Pandora how to exist as a lady, proper etiquette, how to act. She treated Pandora as if she were her daughter, which the girl was as close as the woman would ever get to having one, having given up on trying to have children after years of disappointment.
The play on tonight was one by the esteemed playwright William Shakespeare, and for Pandora that was all she needed to know, as William Shakespeare's works held some of her personal favorites. The theatre was almost at capacity leaving further away from the stage than she wouldn't liked to be.
"Is anyone sitting here?" A voice asked from just behind Pandoras shoulder she she had to turn to look at the woman. "No," she spoke softly, the brunette grinned at the news. "What luck! I thought I might have to leave there are no other seats." The woman got comfortable, and Pandora tried not to look at the dip of her evening dress, and the bundle of violets pinned to the center front of her bodice.
"All alone?" The woman asked brown eyes twinkling in the dim candlelight. "Yes, my father didn't want to come this evening, but I already held tickets, and Hamlet is one of my favorites." The woman grinned again. "Mine as well." She looked to the front where red curtains remained drawn still. "I'm Genevieve Benoit." Pandora glanced to her.
"Pandora Fletcher." Genevieve hummed, as if amused by the name. "Pandora like the Greek myth?" Pandora turned to her. "The legend of Pandora's box? You've never heard of it?" She shook her head. Genevieve shifted in her seat to face Pandora properly.
"The myth goes; Pandora was a very beautiful woman in Ancient Greece, which the gods give a box full of gifts but she was told she was to never open it, Pandora tried to tame her curiosity but eventually she opened the box. It contained illness and hardship, at the sight of all of these bad things flying out of the box, Pandora snapped the box shut, trapping the hope that had been in the box with all those awful things."
Pandora stared at the woman who seemed the most proud of herself for remembering the myth. "It's not all bad Pan." She settled back in her seat and Pandora continued to stare at the side of her head.
It took a moment for her brain to continue to work, and she turned toward the stage, the play still hadn't begun. "Do you enjoy poetry." Pandora's voice was weak and her heart was beating very quickly, it almost felt like she had two hearts hammering at full speed in her chest. "Yes." Genevieve whispered back almost softer than Pandora's voice.
"Are you familiar with Sappho's work." Genevieve looked at Pandora, eyes burning. "Very much, one of my favorite poets, and a woman too." Pandoras cheeks were tinged pink, as a loud eruption of applause erupted signaling the beginning of the show, the candle light was blown out as the stage lights were lit.
And in the darkness, Genevieve's hand found Pandora's.
***
"and then she held my hand for most of hamlet, she only released it after Ophelia's death." Pandora was grinning as she continued to go on about the brunette girl from the theatre. Jack chuckled at his young friend who was now sipping from her tea with a wide smile.
Jack and Pandora were very similar, especially in their interests, though they would call their types of love very different things, Jack just called himself normal, the 51st century was beyond labels like straight, gay or bisexual. And Pandora would have called herself confused, most of the time, though the topic of who people love wasn't ever brought up by Abigail or Gabriel.
"I hate that those relationships aren't accepted here." Jack whispered. "You deserve to be able to step out with, what was her name again?"
Pandoras face dropped with his words but she smirked as her name formed on her lips.
"Genevieve Benoit." Her heart tightened at the name, butterflies exploded in her stomach.
Jack grinned at her, "oh, my young friend, you are so in love." Pandora turned to him scoffing. "I am not, I just met her, Jack!" He laughed harder. "That doesn't mean anything! The heart wants what it wants, Andy!"
Andy was a nickname that Jack had come up with, it was another thing that her parents didn't like, because it was very masculine, but Pandora loved it. Jack loved to press her parents buttons, but it didn't change their opinions of him, they had wanted to pair them up since the first time Pandora had brought him for dinner.
"Have-have you ever loved someone like this? Someone who was.." she trailed out swallowing thickly. Jack leaned forward in his seat. "Many times, Andy." He smiled like he was remembering something or someone.
