Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rol (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
st_ockandbarrel) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
strangetrip2017-12-19 08:21 pm
st_ockandbarrel) wrote in strangetrip2017-12-19 08:21 pm
Winter's Crest Snow Day [GP]
The Inn was decorated in, if possible, an even more outlandish style than usual. Garlands of evergreens and bright berries competed with gold angels and cheerful small grinning creatures with pointed ears and shoes. A large fir tree had appeared seemingly from nowhere and was now draped with lights and hung with colored glass balls. At the top perched a figure in white robes with wings.
It was, Percy mused, probably for whatever the local holiday was, but it was also close enough to Winter's Crest decorations for him to feel a bit homesick for Whitestone. After all, it was only a year ago that he'd been able to celebrate Winter's Crest in his home city for the first time in years.
Something was still missing - or rather, many things were missing but one thing that he could solve for. Winter's Crest called for snow, and better snow in abundance. To solve for that last problem, he turned to a gnome of exceptional talent. While he didn't know how Sarenrae's power worked, he did have complete faith in her cleric. And thus, together, they concocted a plan: to turn the weather to a more appropriate clime.
The morning of December 20th dawned as it often did in this place - heavy with clouds that would burn off before noon. The clouds were important. They would make the spell casting easier, and Pike knew that she needed all the help she could get. Weather magic was not her forte. Like all clerics with powers as advanced as hers, she knew the right spell but when you had a druid around, there hadn't been much need for her to use it.
Dressed in a warm coat and a big floppy, knit cap, she sat on the ground with her legs crossed. Holding her holy symbol in both hands, she concentrated on the sky. As the Celestial incantation took root, golden rays of light encircled her and rose into the air. With each heartbeat, she could feel Sarenrae's power drawing warmth from the clouds above and into her body.
It took ten minutes to cast the spell and another twenty minutes for it to take effect. The spell would fade if she didn't maintain concentration all day, but it was a small price to pay.
And that's how, before the sun had completely finished rising, it was snowing on the Madonna Inn.
It was, Percy mused, probably for whatever the local holiday was, but it was also close enough to Winter's Crest decorations for him to feel a bit homesick for Whitestone. After all, it was only a year ago that he'd been able to celebrate Winter's Crest in his home city for the first time in years.
Something was still missing - or rather, many things were missing but one thing that he could solve for. Winter's Crest called for snow, and better snow in abundance. To solve for that last problem, he turned to a gnome of exceptional talent. While he didn't know how Sarenrae's power worked, he did have complete faith in her cleric. And thus, together, they concocted a plan: to turn the weather to a more appropriate clime.
The morning of December 20th dawned as it often did in this place - heavy with clouds that would burn off before noon. The clouds were important. They would make the spell casting easier, and Pike knew that she needed all the help she could get. Weather magic was not her forte. Like all clerics with powers as advanced as hers, she knew the right spell but when you had a druid around, there hadn't been much need for her to use it.
Dressed in a warm coat and a big floppy, knit cap, she sat on the ground with her legs crossed. Holding her holy symbol in both hands, she concentrated on the sky. As the Celestial incantation took root, golden rays of light encircled her and rose into the air. With each heartbeat, she could feel Sarenrae's power drawing warmth from the clouds above and into her body.
It took ten minutes to cast the spell and another twenty minutes for it to take effect. The spell would fade if she didn't maintain concentration all day, but it was a small price to pay.
And that's how, before the sun had completely finished rising, it was snowing on the Madonna Inn.
Re: Emma - OTA
He couldn't say it, couldn't say what that made her, how close it made her to Emma as he had met her. He couldn't say it, and his eyes were pleading for her not to make him.
Re: Emma - OTA
Focusing on what she didn't want to think, it took longer than it should've for what Jag said to really make sense. His Em... she'd come from a different reality, not his. And her life, his Em's past, had been almost identical to Emma's.
"I'm sorry." The words were barely a whisper, pushed out past her heart in her throat for just how much she must be hurting him, just by being who she was. And who she wasn't. He'd said, if he knew how different they were, it would be easier on him. But if they weren't different, and he knew that now, fuck, fuck, fuck. "I'm sorry, Jag."
Re: Emma - OTA
Re: Emma - OTA
She let him go.
What else could she do?
Re: Emma - OTA