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!
no subject
It's not fair. [A thin, wry smile.] Not a lot is, really.
But what we do with it - that makes a difference.
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[This is too much, and she can't just hide it right now, she needs to leave and regroup and think about everything, and she just doesn't want to hear this right now, even if maybe she sort of understands, because at the same time, she doesn't.]
Just- Stop. Please.
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Do you remember where your room was?
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Yes.
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[Although she still doesn't know how to feel about it being her old room, it's at least more familiar territory, somewhere she's more than used to being locked away in while she composes herself, and that's what she needs right now.]
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no subject
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I'm Jean, by the way.
no subject
[There's no use pretending she's someone else, even though the thought has sort of occurred to her. It's fairly apparent that no one is from Arendelle, so there's no reason for them to be excited or surprised or unhappy to hear who she is.]
no subject