(no subject)

[laceandcarnage]

Who: Istas and you!
When: Day 9, midday
Where: On a random city street
What: Istas arrives, and everything is now ridiculously cold.

Istas had just stepped out of the store when it happened, brand new midnight blue petticoat in hand. She'd expected to emerge to blaring horns, towering skyscrapers, and countless busy humans rushing down the sidewalk.

Instead she emerged to a small town, surrounded by snow and land where trees could not grow. The buildings were familiar - in fact, if she wasn't mistaken, they were exactly the same as those in Kugluktuk, which had seemed so large when she was young. But the smells here that were not the scents of Kugluktuk, and the people were not the people of Kugluktuk. The place before her was not as it appeared.

It was also not New York. Istas stood frozen in confusion and bewilderment. How could she be here, in Not-Kugluktuk? She had not arrived here by plane, or run across the frozen tundras. She had only walked through a door.

Istas did not understand. And she did not like it. She spun around, wishing to flee back into the store that she had left, but it was gone. Instead there was just a house, without even any parasols for sale in the window. With an angry growl, she clawed at the door with fingernails that had grown larger and sharper, leaving deep gouges in the wood.

[[ooc: Istas wears Gothic Lolita clothing and this is her current outfit<]]

Comments

[trickor]

...Now, that's an interesting perch.

[on_thin_ice]

Yeah, it's -- Wait, you can see me?

[trickor]

Have we not [swirls a hand] been through this already? Frost.

[on_thin_ice]

Uhhh. Have we met?

[trickor]

[unnnnexpected]

You...do not know me?

[on_thin_ice]

Should I? You don't look familiar.

[trickor]

But you are Jack Frost?

[on_thin_ice]

The last I checked.

[trickor]

[this is probably what James was talking about :T]

Ah. How...unexpected. To see you here.

[on_thin_ice]

. . . Thanks, I think.

[trickor]

[lets out a huffy sigh]

I am Loki, of Asgard.

[on_thin_ice]

Huh. Those names sound familiar. Norse, right?

[trickor]

Yes.

[on_thin_ice]

Hmm. You're not a spirit though, and I sense something colder . . .

[trickor]

I am a God.

[on_thin_ice]

Never met a God before.

[trickor]

There is, as they say, a first time for everything.

[on_thin_ice]

What do Gods even do anyway?

[trickor]

Eat, drink, sleep. [rolls his eyes] Wage war.

[on_thin_ice]

Wow, snooze fest. Glad I'm not a god.

[trickor]

No, you are a spirit.

[HE DOESN'T SOUND VERY IMPRESSED]

[on_thin_ice]

And I'm perfectly okay with that.

[trickor]

Such a child. Pitch was a much more interesting conversation partner.

[on_thin_ice]

. . . You know Pitch?

[trickor]

Yes. Though he may no longer know me, as you have.