bothfoulandfair: (from my heart down to my legs)
[Elsa clicks on the video feed, and it's pretty readily apparent that she isn't affected by the flood. She's in her room and there's no laser tag gear anywhere to be seen, but there is a smile on her face. It's small, maybe a little shy, but it's there.]

I'm sorry about doing this in the middle of a flood, but- [Her smile stretches wider, making it clear that the calmer one from before is just her trying to keep her emotions in check.]

I'm leaving. I mean, I've graduated and I'm going home. This place has done a lot for me, and I probably could stay here as a warden, but. I need to go home.

[There are things she needs to do, things to make right, and she's still afraid that maybe she won't be able to, that people won't accept her, but she can't hide here forever.

(And if things go terribly wrong, she can always come back.)]

I'll miss many of you. Thank you for everything you've done for me.

[Private to Dillon]

I know I've already said this, but... thank you.

I don't think there's any way I can really make it up to you, but I want you to know that if you ever need a safe place to stay to think things over or just take a break for a little while, you're always welcome in Arendelle.

[Obviously he can't stay forever - or more like he probably wouldn't let himself - but she puts the offer on the table so he knows it's a possibility if he wants it. She doesn't like the idea of him not having somewhere to hide out if he needs it.]

[Private to Morgana and Jean]

I owe both of you a thank you in particular. I don't think I ever would have been able to get more comfortable with my powers without knowing people like you.

Also, Dillon helped me pick out some clothes while we were in Amsterdam. I won't need them at home, but I thought you might be able to use them.

[Spam for Steve]

[There are a few others she wants to say specific goodbyes to, so she doesn't leave immediately after making her post or after she's replied to any messages she's received about it over the network. Even if this isn't exactly the most opportune moment to be strolling around the Barge, it's going to be strange to leave this place, and it's sort of nice to see it one last time... even if she has to dodge the occasional over enthusiastic laser tag player.

She turns into one of the common rooms and spots Steve, complete with laser tag gear, which gets a small, amused smile out of her when she sees it, half bracing herself to be "shot" at even if she feels like he probably wouldn't.]

Hello, Steve.
bothfoulandfair: (away she'd fly)
[Spam for the CES]

[Elsa is still not the most willing or enthusiastic student when it comes to practicing with her abilities. She's quick to get frustrated, reluctant to try new things, and it's very, very easy to get her to call it quits.

This still isn't something she's learned to love. It can be beautiful, and it makes her feel powerful, but she's tired of hurting people, tired of feeling like she has no where to go and no one to accept her back home (even if she knows there's at least one person who would), and just tired in general.

But sometimes, she can ask someone to let her into the CES - which is easier, now that Dillon is back, because it feels less uncomfortable to ask him for simple things like this than other people - and just... let down her hair a little. So to speak (it's still in a bun.) She'll flick her fingers and let little spirals of frost cling to the leaves on trees, or fan out across a pond. Sometimes, she might even leave a tiny snowman in her tracks, little slightly lopsided things that don't look exactly like Olaf, and aren't alive, but might be close enough to be his cousins or something. It's nothing impressive - no ice palaces, no eternal winter. She's no where near strong enough for that.

It's just nice, to have little moments like this.

Of course, part of the problem of hanging around a more or less public space on the Barge is that you're never really alone, so feel free to catch her in the act.]
bothfoulandfair: (and it's made its home inside)
[Elsa is very, very tempted to just sit this one out entirely. She's better at it, but she's still not very good at talking to strangers, and it certainly isn't something she enjoys. But she's been here before for an event like this, and nothing terrible had happened.

(Anna hadn't asked where she was, or why she was there.)

And her personal discomfort doesn't change that this is her best chance to get information about what happened to her warden, and she's worried enough to take the risk.

Let's hope she doesn't regret it.]

Does anyone out there know Dillon Cole?
bothfoulandfair: (she closed her eyes)
Dillon's gone.

[This is the second time she's had to make an announcement like this. Elsa hates it. She's felt directionless and confused enough without losing track of one of the only people who knows what she's going through, and she's worried about him. She still remembers what he'd been like during that flood, when he'd been so exhausted and worn he'd fallen asleep listening to her read to him in the library after resurrecting people from a mass grave back home. She knows things aren't safe for him, there.

It makes the next thing she has to say even harder.]

His door is, too.

[That hadn't happened last time, and he'd come back. He still might, but he just as easily might not.]

He would have- [Elsa takes a breath, holds it, and her room hasn't completely iced over, but the tremble of power and emotion is still there, begging to be let out.] He would have said something, if he knew, but-

I'm sorry.

[She's not even sure why she's apologizing. It just seems easier than continuing, and she clicks off the communicator shortly thereafter.]
bothfoulandfair: (but they'll clap anyway)

[Kai is sitting on Elsa's bed, holding a pair of gloves in his hands. He looks... okay, really, and he's pretty unmistakeably Elsa, despite the modern clothes (borrowed from Dillon's room) and the fact that he's, you now. Not.]

I know it's probably too much to ask for logic, here, [Because he's not an idiot, seriously. This place is the exact opposite of reasonable.] But if we're going to be forced to live other lives, or switch places with our counterparts during events like this, wouldn't it make sense to alter our rooms, too?

The experience we'd gain from it would be fundamentally the same, but a lot less... awkward. Especially in terms of clothing options.

[Open Spam]

[Flood or no flood, Kai isn't confining himself to his room as much anymore. As much, because he still spends a lot of time there, but you can also catch him in the dining hall, and the library at normal hours, instead of only in the middle of the night. He might even wander up on deck from time to time.

But he's still... well, a little weird about being around other people, and the flood sort of makes it more confusing. It's harder to tell who's who, so anyone who comes near is regarded with some amount of suspicion before he tries to force his way through some polite conversation.

Honestly, sometimes he's exhausted by the fact that his warden probably won't approve of adding a kitchen and shower onto his room. Then he'd really never have to leave.]

bothfoulandfair: (I'm only a man)
[This is the first time Elsa - the real Elsa, not someone from a flood - has thought to post publicly to the network in a long time. She's out and about more often now rather than hiding in her room almost exclusively, but it's still... hard. Everything about this has been hard, and she just wants it to stop.]

I've been doing a lot of thinking- [About a lot of things, but really one thing in particular.] About people with powers. People like me.

What's it like for them, in your world? If they exist.

[She's tempted to leave it at that, but.]

Most of the stories I've heard haven't been very reassuring.

[So the idea of life after the Barge is not really an exciting thing to consider.]
bothfoulandfair: (this could be paradise)
[The Elsa who clicks on the video feed looks much different from the woman who first came on board in January. True, she's still noticeably Elsa, but her smile is confident and relaxed instead of nervous, pinched, or otherwise forced.

She's also wearing a skintight suit with a belt around the waist with a prominent, potentially recognizable X on the buckle.]

This room is pretty. A little old fashioned for my tastes, [It looks like the inside of an actual castle, which is kind of cool (ha, cool) although she'd love to know where her normal clothes have run off to. Jeans are pretty great, alright?]

Hi. For anyone who doesn't know me, or remember who I am thanks to the flood, I'm Elsa Andersen. I'm a warden here, a mutant, and a member of the X-Men. Some people know me better as Icicle, or the Snow Queen.

I know this is probably pretty confusing for many of you - believe me, it's confusing for us, too - so if there's anything I - or we! - can do for you while you're here, feel free to let us know.

Anyway, [Moving right along with another smile.] Since the Admiral got rid of the ice rink, I was thinking about turning part of the deck into one, if anyone was interested. My sister Anna and I used to do it all the time at home, before I left for the institute, and it's a lot of fun, but I think the flood's done something to tone down my powers. Has anyone else noticed anything like that?
bothfoulandfair: (I'm living in an age)
[Open Spam]

[It's her first wish of the flood - I wish Anna was here - that probably convinces her to get out of her room at a time when other people might actually be out and about for the first time since their visit to the other Barge. Anna's rag doll shows up on her bed, smiling at her from across the room, and she's torn between picking the thing up and hugging it and rushing out of the room and staying out until the flood's over. Maybe Dillon won't mind her staying with him, or in the infirmary until it's done.

She calms down, though, and the doll winds up tagging along with her out on her little expedition.

And things seems fine, until she makes her second one - I wish getting along with people here was easier - and she finds her head shoved through the neck of an oversized t-shirt with the words "This is Our Get Along Shirt", one arm through the left shirtsleeve and... apparently, someone else is occupying the same neckhole and other shirtsleeve.

Honestly? She can't even bring herself to be angry.

For now.]

Is this something you're familiar with, outside of the Barge?

[ooc: I'm definitely looking for this to be more fluffy than traumatic for Elsa, otherwise anything is totally fair game. c:]
bothfoulandfair: (with you I'll always share)
[May 9th, Spam for Dillon and Morgana]

and i can feel it coming in the air tonight )

[May 10th, Spam for Scorpius]

i've been waiting for this moment for all my life, oh lord )

[May 10th through Event End, Open Spam]

[She's out of control.

It's all happening again, and she can't do anything to stop it. It's like trying to hold back a tidal wave with your bare hands, and it's so much easier - so much easier - to just give in, to just feel it rip out and spill over everything

The worst part is? It feels good.

But she's icing over the remains of the ship, and she knows people will hate her for it. Will be frightened and angry and murderous, and she can't be here when they come for her. She's afraid, she doesn't want to die again.

So she does the one thing she can: she runs.

Ice and snow follows her like a virus, spreading out over the terrain, blasting it bare and leaving a trail for anyone who wants to to follow.

They'll need to hurry, though. The radius is expanding rapidly, eating up the clear path and creating a wide expanse of quasi eternal winter.]
bothfoulandfair: (and I can see below)
[It takes a fair bit to get Elsa to think about posting to the network. It's had mixed results in the past, and often she just is in no mood to put herself out there for other people to talk to or judge or just in general, regardless of what else is happening on the ship or in her life. Afterlife.

But this is important, because she doesn't care about many people on board, but she cares about her warden and Dillon's no where to be found and hasn't been for a while. It's probably stupid to panic, to worry that something genuinely terrible has happened to him - he's difficult to hurt, at least physically, she knows that - but, well. Trust issues, she has them, particularly regarding a population of people that include quite a lot of admitted murderers.]

... Has anyone seen Dillon? His door is still the same, but- [And there's a fraction of a second where she's not sure if it had been a smart idea to post about this at all, for exactly the same reasons she's afraid something bad might have actually happened to him.] I haven't been able to find him.
bothfoulandfair: (I believe it's so)
[It's - for the most part - unusual to see Elsa out of her room. She still keeps to herself, making her rounds from the dining hall to the library and then back to her room for most of the rest of the day.

But right now, she's out on deck, still in her more conservative, darker clothes instead of her ice dress, and she's apparently just watching the stars and the snow falling. It doesn't seem as heavy as it had been when she'd first arrived here, although she's always sort of wondered if her usual anxiety has done something to make the snow worse when she's out on deck, and since she's not feeling as miserable as usual today, maybe it's responding in kind.]

Is it always like this? Or is the snow eventually going to stop? [Part of her isn't sure she knows what she wants the answer to be.] It was summer when I left home, but according to the calendar here, it should be spring by now, shouldn't it?

[Open Spam]

[She lingers on deck after making the post, just watching the flurries tumble down over the side of the deck railing, or drift and settle on deck. The air feels warmer than it has been, too, although she supposes that's still more difficult for her to gauge than a normal person. She's only ever been cold once before, and that had been when she'd died during that port. She knows she never wants to feel like that again.

But those memories feel a little far off today. She's still unhappy - she's always unhappy, she hasn't felt really secure or content except for that few hours after she'd run away since she was a child - but it feels more manageable today. It's easier to watch the flakes tumble down and realize how pretty they look against the stars like this, instead of hating them just because she can feel her powers calling out, wanting to make more and join the others.

She can't help it. She waves her hand, and a small spiral of snowflakes fans out from her hands and flutters down to join the others. Nothing bad happens. No one gets hurt.

It's nice, to be able to manage that. For once.]

[ooc: Elsa is not affected, but is curious about this all the same. Feel free to try and force her to talk about stuff anyway!]
bothfoulandfair: (but all the choirs in my head sang no)
[Elsa has been preparing for this for most of her life, but she still feels like people shouldn't be looking to her for advice, or thoughtful commentary, or much of anything, really. It's almost like whenever they turn to her expecting her to say something, she still thinks they're talking to her father or mother, and when she turns around, she'll see them behind her ready to give an intelligent, diplomatic answer.

They're not, though. The young Senator feels totally alone even though there are people from her home planet with her, and other senators to talk to, and she wishes she'd had more time. She feels so unprepared, and she's sure it shows.

But she still tries to keep it together at formal events, dressed in outfits that reference her homeworld without actually meaning she needs to wear twenty pounds of petticoats to keep warm. Her smiles are a little pinched, like she's forgotten how to do it and is relying on vague recollections of how to do it. It's exhausting, to hear so many people tell her that they're sorry for her loss, that her parents will be missed, but at the same time, it's nice to know that people cared.

So while she keeps to the sidelines of most political and otherwise formal gatherings, people still seem to flock around this new face in the political scene, and... she's sort of flailing. Rescue her? Ask some questions about her thoughts on current events? Maybe you knew her father and didn't think he was that great of a guy?]

[ooc: feel free to catch elsa wherever, whenever, and if you've got any questions, feel free to hit me up!]
bothfoulandfair: (she expected the world)
[Elsa is back to normal, which means the slightly more confident, redheaded young woman from the flood is gone. That said, she looks less terrified and barely holding it together than she's been in days past.

It had felt good, to be aware of how much power she actually had, how easy it would be to just be what ever she wanted. No one would be able to tell her what to do or how to act if she just embraced it, accepted what everyone wanted her to be.

That should probably scare her, that it makes her feel a little better.

She's sitting at a desk in her room, once again dressed more simply in one of the dresses that had been hanging in her closet. The gloves are still off, but her hair is pinned up.]

How common is magic in your world? Or, powers, abilities, whatever they're known as. [She's quiet for a beat or two before elaborating.]

Before coming here, I'd never met anyone else who was capable of doing something... different. I was curious if that was more common than not.
bothfoulandfair: (whose side am I on?)
I froze to death, while the ship stopped in port. [And - perhaps understandably - she doesn't look too happy about it.

She's not in the infirmary anymore though. She'd stayed until the residual cold was bearable, and had waited until she felt completely back to normal before trying to address the Barge and ask the questions she's been sitting on since she wound up in the infirmary.]

How often does that happen? Why didn't anyone tell me that could happen?

[She's trying to hold it together, present herself as the calm, cool and collected future queen she's been trying to be for the last three years, but people can probably see the cracks in her veneer because this is all just... beyond crazy.]

[Private to Arthas]

You tried to save me. [She remembers that much, even though parts of the end are a little blurry.

And she wants to know why. :|]
bothfoulandfair: (I know)
[Elsa doesn't really know enough about how to use her comm to know much about what's going on right now. Actually, she hasn't checked the network much at all in the days since she arrived here, and so she doesn't think to look at it now before making this post.

She's in her room, still in the same dress she was in when she arrived, and she hasn't exactly ventured out or really tried to get to know anyone, but at least she's not completely panicking and falling apart right now, so that's progress.]

I wanted to say thank you, to everyone who tried to help me. [When she arrived. B(]

I appreciate what you were trying to do.
bothfoulandfair: (in the night the stormy night)
[Public Video]

[The feed clicks on to show the ceiling of an unfamiliar room, but not much else. It's off white, and otherwise not all that interesting, although it's briefly blocked out by the swish of something that might be a dress.

There's some faint, not quite panicked breathing and then quick, cautious footsteps. They stop, and after a pause, a quiet, feminine voice can be heard.]


[There's a sound of the door opening, a surprised gasp, a slight pause, and then the door slams shut. The recording continues.]

[Open Spam]

[This isn't Arendelle. She'd thought she'd been brought home, after she'd realized she wasn't dead, or even injured after the confrontation on the North Mountain, but the hallway is nowhere she recognizes, and that just doesn't make sense. She's never been here before, but she woke up in her room, the room she'd lived in ever since her parents had moved her out of the one she'd shared with her sister, the room she hadn't been in since before the coronation, before-

She can feel the panic rising in her throat before she can even begin to stop it, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. Her powers start to unfurl, and even though she doesn't know where she is or how she got her, if any of this is even real, she gathers her skirt in her hands and runs, looking for a doorway, a staircase, a way out of wherever this is. Frost trails behind her, marking where she's stepped with intricate hexagonal patterns of ice, but doesn't go much farther than a foot or two in either direction. If she stopped to look, it would strike her as odd that she hasn't frozen the entire building.

Instead, she keeps running until she finally finds the stairwell. She hurries up, not knowing what her other choice would be, operating more on instinct than anything logical.

When she steps out on deck, she stops, staring. It's nothing like she's ever seen before, and honestly, she doesn't know what she's seeing. Snow is falling, although from what, she doesn't know as there aren't any clouds overhead, and the flakes start to swirl around her frantically, like a miniature, harmless tornado. She takes a few cautious steps forward and shivers - not from cold, never from that, but out of some sense of physical rejection of what's happening, because she doesn't know-

She startles and turns frantically at the first sign that she's not alone, holding her hands out defensively. She tries to make her voice strong, imperious, calm, but it wavers and her expression is still terrified. It doesn't sound like a very convincing threat.]

Stay back!


bothfoulandfair: (Default)
queen elsa

November 2014

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