queen elsa (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bothfoulandfair) wrote2014-01-05 02:50 pm
bothfoulandfair) wrote2014-01-05 02:50 pm
one ❅ video & spam
[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.]
Anna?
[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!
[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.]
Anna?
[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!
spaaaam
You can't hurt me, I promise.
I've only been here a few days, but I'll answer your questions if I can.
spaaaam
You're a witch.
[It's more an observation than an accusation, but her fear still muddles it, makes it sound like an accusation more than she means it to be.]
no subject
I'm something, anyway. Maybe not the kind you're used to, maybe something like it.
Hi. My name's Dillon.
[He closes the knife and slips it back in his pocket, shoves his hands in there too, vaguely telegraphing that he has absolutely zero intent of trying to shake hands.]
no subject
Why was I brought here? What is this place?
[The latter is probably more important to her than the former, if she's being totally honest.]
no subject
Was something bad happening, right before you got here?
no subject
[Obviously, but that's just so vague. Sometimes it feels like her whole life has just been one bad thing happening after another.]
no subject
Sometimes, when people come here, it's because they died.
I'm so sorry.
no subject
Don't be.
no subject
Okay.
People are going to tell you that you're a prisoner. An inmate. Your powers are restricted, and you'll only be able to leave the barge under supervision, but you won't be locked up in your room or anything unless you hurt somebody on purpose. The idea is that when you - when you fix the things you need to fix, to be better, have a better life, then you can have your life back, or go anywhere else.
But if you just want to. Stay, and rest, and not have to worry so much for a while. That's okay too.
[That's what he was doing at the Hesperia Plant, after all. Until he couldn't, anymore.]
no subject
Thank you. [And in case it needs clarification:] For the information.
no subject
Do you want me to bring some food to your room? I mean, it's probably been a long day. And you seem like maybe you don't want to deal with the dining hall yet, it can get a little busy.
no subject
No, thank you.
no subject
[Binary choices are easier.]
no subject
I think I'd like to go back to my room.
no subject
[He takes his communicator out of his pocket.]
Did you see one of these, by the way?
no subject
Yes. I left it behind. [And she has no idea what it is or what it does. B(]
no subject
It's a thing for talking to people who aren't nearby. It only works between the people here, on the barge, but it'll let you ask more questions, or ask for things you need.
[Without running out in panic, without exposing herself to other people when she doesn't want to. Maybe it's the wrong thing to say, maybe it'll just make a worse hermit out of her, but - he knows what it feels like to just want to hide, away from it all.]
no subject
[She still has basically no idea how to use it, but that is sort of good to know. At least she can approach things at her own pace.]
no subject
[He can tell she doesn't entirely remember the way back, but doesn't make a big deal of it.]
no subject
[Or, you know. Run up, which explains the ice that's still lingering on the floor and steps.]
no subject
[All the way to the end of the hall before they get to her door, and hey, it's crazy, they're neighbors.]
...um, this one is me, actually.
no subject
[She doesn't quite know what to make of that, and she isn't sure she wants to touch the doorknob just yet. Freezing it off and breaking it wouldn't exactly be the ideal scenario, here.]
Thank you for accompanying me.
no subject
Let me show you a little about the comm thing before you settle in?
[He leans on the doorway, never quite breaches her space, the boundaries of her room, but goes on right after as if she already agreed. Inertia is useful. He pulls out his comm again, runs through the basic text/talk/view and how to make something private in about twenty seconds, then moves back into the hallway with a small wave.]
Take care.
no subject
Fortunately, he seems to understand, so she meets his eyes when he leaves and manages another genuine statement, if not quite a smile.]
Thank you.