everyonewillknow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thebastion2014-06-24 11:39 pm
everyonewillknow) wrote in thebastion2014-06-24 11:39 pm
Entry tags:
day 201 [closed] // power outage
Who: Queen Elsa and The Meta
Open: Closed
When: Day 201
Where: Somewhere less frequented in the Bastion
What: Opposites attract, and not always in the ways you'd expect.
Format: action?
Warnings: should be none
It had been long enough.
This was a new world. A new life, sort of maybe a little bit free of her powers. Nobody would fear her here, certainly, so why should she have to fear herself? She shouldn't have to sneak around, taking what little she needed like a thief each night, like her existence was something to be ashamed of. She was a queen, discarded country or no; surely she had more dignity than this.
That was what logic told her, at least. The nervous frost on the ground behind her said otherwise. She still didn't have quite enough discipline to remember there was a limit to her control, especially in the mornings; today, particularly, she was out to see if there was any sort of cloth she could make a suit from. Her wintry clothes were all well and good, but if she was going to be of any use, she couldn't afford to waste her powers on something as paltry as dressing each day.
As she reached the outskirts of the marketplace, she looked back at the ice trail she'd left, and sighed as she hesitantly used the last of her controls for the day to pull it back up, focusing on the thought of doing more than sitting around and fretting - sewing would give her something productive to do. Smiling a little, she turned around again to head more confidently toward market --
-- and slammed face first into a wall that hadn't been there a moment ago. Absolutely startled out of her wits, as she fell back onto her rear, up came a column of ice, enveloping the obstacle in near entirety; as she struggled to catch her frantic thoughts, she looked up...and up...and up, at the worst thing she could have possibly frozen: another person. Or at least it was in the shape of a person; it looked more like a statue than anything, a fearsome warrior made of white stone, its gold helm the only thing not covered in thick ice.
She hoped it was a statue. Please let it be a statue.
Open: Closed
When: Day 201
Where: Somewhere less frequented in the Bastion
What: Opposites attract, and not always in the ways you'd expect.
Format: action?
Warnings: should be none
It had been long enough.
This was a new world. A new life, sort of maybe a little bit free of her powers. Nobody would fear her here, certainly, so why should she have to fear herself? She shouldn't have to sneak around, taking what little she needed like a thief each night, like her existence was something to be ashamed of. She was a queen, discarded country or no; surely she had more dignity than this.
That was what logic told her, at least. The nervous frost on the ground behind her said otherwise. She still didn't have quite enough discipline to remember there was a limit to her control, especially in the mornings; today, particularly, she was out to see if there was any sort of cloth she could make a suit from. Her wintry clothes were all well and good, but if she was going to be of any use, she couldn't afford to waste her powers on something as paltry as dressing each day.
As she reached the outskirts of the marketplace, she looked back at the ice trail she'd left, and sighed as she hesitantly used the last of her controls for the day to pull it back up, focusing on the thought of doing more than sitting around and fretting - sewing would give her something productive to do. Smiling a little, she turned around again to head more confidently toward market --
-- and slammed face first into a wall that hadn't been there a moment ago. Absolutely startled out of her wits, as she fell back onto her rear, up came a column of ice, enveloping the obstacle in near entirety; as she struggled to catch her frantic thoughts, she looked up...and up...and up, at the worst thing she could have possibly frozen: another person. Or at least it was in the shape of a person; it looked more like a statue than anything, a fearsome warrior made of white stone, its gold helm the only thing not covered in thick ice.
She hoped it was a statue. Please let it be a statue.