Post by Orca on Dec 15, 2009 6:03:37 GMT -5
ooc: open to any. i just really want to write
It was really, really cold out.
Cold enough that every time he exhaled, his breath froze and hung suspended, white as smoke.
Cold enough that his cheeks were flushed pink and his lips were starting to chap and the tips of his fingers felt numb.
Orca had never felt so exhilarated, standing there on top of the world, the moon his only spotlight, with snow swirling around his bare legs and snow settling on his bare arms.
(Orca had never looked so stupid, standing on top of a roof in the middle of the night wearing only shorts and a t-shirt while it was snowing.)
He tugged at the black beanie on his head, flashed a grin that mirrored the weather falling about him, and jumped.
For a moment, brief but beautiful, he was in free-fall, worries thrown to the wind as he surrendered himself to the winter air. Then he was landing, like he had planned, in a large pile of snow below, the soft matter thrown every which way as it broke his fall. The lycan floundered happily for a moment before scrambling out and to his feet, hands busy at work brushing the snow off his person.
"Whoo!"
Man, that was freaking awesome! He allowed himself a small smile as he surveyed his work. The pile of snow was several feet high, and had taken most of the afternoon to complete. Not that it was a particularly strenuous task, or anything, not for one of his capabilities, but he kept getting distracted: first there was this dog that wouldn't shut up, and he had to go over and tell it to knock it off only like five million times, and then there was this cute boy giving out free hot cocoa at some shop, so of course he had to go and hit that shit up as much as possible, and-
Well, you get the point.
Orca stretched, felt the cold slowly numb his body, from his fingertips to his arms to his chest to his heart. He welcomed it. After all, when one was slowly freezing to death, there was no time to stress about anything, really.
He could ignore the world, this way.
Smiling, humming, he looked over the pile of snow again. Was it just him, or wasn't it just the right size for a snow fort?
Oh, it totally was.
He got to work, patting the sides into a shape more suitable for what he had in mind.
"You got the vibe," he sang. "Make you feel alright~"
It was freezing cold outside. And yet, here he was, unsuitably clothed and fully immersed in child's play, again ignoring problems he really needed to face--but he'd do that tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that, no hurry after all, he had forever, or at least until those problems showed up in the flesh to confront him.
He pushed those thoughts away and began working on the door to his awesome creation, humming snatches of songs under his breath--he'd sing, but the cold kept taking his voice away.
No worries.
Orca really was an idiot.
It was really, really cold out.
Cold enough that every time he exhaled, his breath froze and hung suspended, white as smoke.
Cold enough that his cheeks were flushed pink and his lips were starting to chap and the tips of his fingers felt numb.
Orca had never felt so exhilarated, standing there on top of the world, the moon his only spotlight, with snow swirling around his bare legs and snow settling on his bare arms.
(Orca had never looked so stupid, standing on top of a roof in the middle of the night wearing only shorts and a t-shirt while it was snowing.)
He tugged at the black beanie on his head, flashed a grin that mirrored the weather falling about him, and jumped.
For a moment, brief but beautiful, he was in free-fall, worries thrown to the wind as he surrendered himself to the winter air. Then he was landing, like he had planned, in a large pile of snow below, the soft matter thrown every which way as it broke his fall. The lycan floundered happily for a moment before scrambling out and to his feet, hands busy at work brushing the snow off his person.
"Whoo!"
Man, that was freaking awesome! He allowed himself a small smile as he surveyed his work. The pile of snow was several feet high, and had taken most of the afternoon to complete. Not that it was a particularly strenuous task, or anything, not for one of his capabilities, but he kept getting distracted: first there was this dog that wouldn't shut up, and he had to go over and tell it to knock it off only like five million times, and then there was this cute boy giving out free hot cocoa at some shop, so of course he had to go and hit that shit up as much as possible, and-
Well, you get the point.
Orca stretched, felt the cold slowly numb his body, from his fingertips to his arms to his chest to his heart. He welcomed it. After all, when one was slowly freezing to death, there was no time to stress about anything, really.
He could ignore the world, this way.
Smiling, humming, he looked over the pile of snow again. Was it just him, or wasn't it just the right size for a snow fort?
Oh, it totally was.
He got to work, patting the sides into a shape more suitable for what he had in mind.
"You got the vibe," he sang. "Make you feel alright~"
It was freezing cold outside. And yet, here he was, unsuitably clothed and fully immersed in child's play, again ignoring problems he really needed to face--but he'd do that tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that, no hurry after all, he had forever, or at least until those problems showed up in the flesh to confront him.
He pushed those thoughts away and began working on the door to his awesome creation, humming snatches of songs under his breath--he'd sing, but the cold kept taking his voice away.
No worries.
Orca really was an idiot.