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Entry tags:
snow means . . . ? (open)
Who: Argilla & anyone
When: Monday morning
Where: Snowy island.
Style: I will match.
Status: Open!
[It's been a few days now since Jinana's disappearance; and while Argilla hasn't exactly given up hope that she would return, it's still markedly different around the base without her. After she'd fallen asleep, it'd become routine for her to check each morning that she was still all right-- that she hadn't suddenly awoken. But without that, the only thing left to greet her was an empty room.
Rather than stay in it, Argilla decides to leave while everyone is still sleeping . . . and upon passing by the Plaza, she gives a cautious look around, just in case.
But there's . . . nothing. No one she recognizes at all. So there's a sigh, but rather than dwell, she soon finds herself on the island, having taken the elevator alone.
It's where she usually goes to think, but of course, what she expected wasn't what she got, when she stepped out. The warm sun didn't hit her face as it normally did, and when she looked up, there was only grey. Falling from it--
White.]
This . . . isn't rain.
[Is it? She holds out her hand, allowing some of it to accumulate, but then it all falls to dust when she rubs her fingers together a bit to feel it. Definitely more powdery than liquid; not to mention it's colder than she's used to as well.
Regardless, she continues walking with her eyes wide, leaving footsteps. At least it's beautiful . . .]
When: Monday morning
Where: Snowy island.
Style: I will match.
Status: Open!
[It's been a few days now since Jinana's disappearance; and while Argilla hasn't exactly given up hope that she would return, it's still markedly different around the base without her. After she'd fallen asleep, it'd become routine for her to check each morning that she was still all right-- that she hadn't suddenly awoken. But without that, the only thing left to greet her was an empty room.
Rather than stay in it, Argilla decides to leave while everyone is still sleeping . . . and upon passing by the Plaza, she gives a cautious look around, just in case.
But there's . . . nothing. No one she recognizes at all. So there's a sigh, but rather than dwell, she soon finds herself on the island, having taken the elevator alone.
It's where she usually goes to think, but of course, what she expected wasn't what she got, when she stepped out. The warm sun didn't hit her face as it normally did, and when she looked up, there was only grey. Falling from it--
White.]
This . . . isn't rain.
[Is it? She holds out her hand, allowing some of it to accumulate, but then it all falls to dust when she rubs her fingers together a bit to feel it. Definitely more powdery than liquid; not to mention it's colder than she's used to as well.
Regardless, she continues walking with her eyes wide, leaving footsteps. At least it's beautiful . . .]
no subject
But what about you?
[That sweater does look warm, but . . .]
no subject
[But not for real long. It was pretty cold up there, but the sweater would ward off the cold for a time. Enough to enjoy the snow, at least.]
Besides, I can always come back up tomorrow. By the way it's falling and how cold it's been, it'll be here for a bit.
no subject
There's silence as she lets Rinoa's words sink in. It doesn't seem like such a big deal, when she puts it that way: just something she's doing for a comrade, and something Argilla would easily do in return.
Once she puts on the jacket though, that bit of guilt still nags at her.]
Perhaps so . . . but I'd rather you not be uncomfortable for very long. Once we've had enough, we should both return.
[And she'll give back her jacket once they do.]
no subject
[To hold in the warmth for as long as possible, Rinoa crosses her arms.]
What do you think of it, the snow?
no subject
Argilla brushes some snow off the jacket she's just put on, watching as the flakes fall and tumble to the ground.]
It seems so fragile.
[Not quite as . . . unforgiving as rain.]
no subject
[That is what made it so special, she supposes.]
Every snowflake is different. Like fingerprints.
no subject
When Rinoa starts talking about each snowflake individually though, she might look a little confused. Or at least, unsure -- though the idea of each one being different is impressive.]
Really? [Her attention returns to her hands, and she allows for a bit of snow to accumulate again so she can look at it.]
But they're so small. How can you tell?
no subject
no subject
The word seems foreign to her, like many other things, though she feels like she should know this one. If she saw one, maybe she would think she's seen it before -- something like that.
But for now, she'll accept Rinoa's explanation as is.]
Impressive.
I'm honestly not sure I would've thought to do that in the first place . . . it all looks plain white to me.
no subject
[Really, snow was just frozen water. It didn't seem like anything special at first glance, aside from how pretty it was when it fell on the ground.]
I don't know who thought to do that. But I'm glad they did.
no subject
[She grins a bit, giving a slight shrug. Maybe someday she'll see for herself what snowflake patterns really look like. It's hard to wrap her head around each one being different.]
. . . Thank you for this jacket, by the way. I don't believe I've said that yet.
no subject
No problem. Now you know for next time.
no subject
[Argilla nods, though Rinoa's shiver doesn't escape her. She looks concerned, as she places a hand on her shoulder -- even though she's shivering a bit as well.
Even with the jacket.]
. . . But let's keep moving. Just standing here won't help.