'Nitsa (miss_midday) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-01-07 18:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | pscipolnitsa, skadi |
Who: Pscipolnitsa (miss_midday) & Skaði (snowshoes)
When: Backdated to December 21, 2009. Winter Solstice. Noon.
Where: A very snowy Central Park.
Warnings: TBA.
It was not entirely surprising to find Lady Midday outside, in a park, in the middle of a day. What was decidedly off about this instance was the snow, that it was the middle of winter, and below freezing. She had bundled herself in the coziest white cashmere sweater and jacket she could find, likely wearing more than a few layers on her legs and impossibly warm white boots. As she moved from the cozy solace of Leiah's home and into the outside world, she was white against white, a world painted in snow. The city decked in ice and snow was a beauty to behold; stillness, a penetrating quiet, the winter solstice.
"Snow. Fan-fucking-tastic," she muttered, pulling her fuzzy white scarf over half of her face as she trudged, making her way to the grocery store. Incoherent mumblings of a tasteful variety of curses, in a fantastic array of languages, continued behind the scarf, her eyes narrowing to slits against the cold. She shoved her white-gloved hands into the pockets of her coat, holding them close to her body.
Children were frolicking like mewling, fluffy lambs, bounding over miniature hills and valleys of snow, gleefully ignoring warnings from their mothers about the glare of light against the snow. The sound of their winter joy made 'Nitsa want to gag. She paused in her detour through the park to watch a few children make a snow-woman, rather than a snow man. It had glasses made with licorice and a ball of snow on its head for hair. In an idiotic display of pre-teen power, a young boy happened by and kicked the snow-woman, causing a cry of dissent from the younger children.
Lady Midday smiled beneath the scarf. A sliver opened in the clouds, and a stream of forgotten sunlight bounced off the snow, causing a little girl to cry out in discomfort as the glare caught her in the eye.
Staring for a moment longer, she muttered, turned, and kicked a misplaced snow ball as she walked further on. Despite how many layers she wore, she could feel the wind chill, seemingly colder as the day wore on. She attempted to summon what little warmth and strength she had left, which, for a moment, brightened her eyes and made her trudging pace a little more smooth, her tensed muscles relax, and, at least for a moment, she felt alive. Considering the past couple of weeks had been an alternating mess of waking up with pieces of her face missing or turned to dust, this was an improvement.
She hoped it would last at least until the grocery store.