SNOWED IN

[anonmeme]

The Snowed In Meme

You were just having a normal day out when an angelical snow shower hits you... hard. And now you're trapped with someone else until it passes by. Are you at a cafe? A bookstore? School? In the middle of crime-fighting? Location, duration and snow intensity are all up to you!

Rules:

• Post with your character's name and canon on the subject line, indicate preferences as needed
• Tag other people
• Have fun!!

Comments

newt • fantastic beasts • ota

[dragoneau]

[made_of_stars]

[And yet - here they are, freezing, and miserable, and a little more beaten and bruised than usual. Especially in Cassian's case.

At the very least, they've got a passable shelter, and once the fire really gets going, it should be, for lack of a better term, comfortable. They'd manage until they were rescued, if that rescue came relatively quickly. None of this was meant to be long-term.]

Not with a broken arm, you don't.

[Jyn would really rather stay and keep an eye on things (ie: Cassian), but he was right. The wood they've got wasn't enough to last the night.]

[thatgoodnight]

That's one way to look at it.

[The lovely aroma of coffee begins to permeate the area as it starts dripping into the pot.]

You can cook here, if you want. [It's not like he's using it most of the time.] Just... try not to burn things. [He has learned that cleaning up charred things is a pain.]

[amorality]

[Well, so much for that. He just hopes that he doesn't get in trouble for accidentally leaking information now that Noctis has a copy of the map on his phone.]

I was collecting some sample data. The fluctuations in energy have been having some interesting effects on the area. Visiting the other bases was not nearly so... eventful.

[Ryan sighs and then shrugs, spreading his hands out.]

I suppose I've been lucky to not run into you until now! These were your lands, weren't they? That you would take offense to these hideous places is no surprise. Words mean little, but I'll say them all the same: you can rest easy for now, Your Highness. I have no great loyalty to the empire; my home was absorbed in much the same way. I simply don't have many reasons to fight them, either.

[inlay]

You really think I burn stuff, dude? I...

[...then again, maybe he's never mentioned that he lives alone. sure, he'd get fast food every day as a kid, and sure, he gets takeout whenever he can, but...]

...I am Prompto, Master Chef, King of the Kitchen! ...Except for Ignis. I'm sure he can outcook me any day.

rey || tfa || ota

[see_the_stars]

warden surana ;dragon age ; ota

[intwilight]

Rider | Fate/zero | ota

[hellenization]

[ex_handguns926]

[ Faraday is also alive, and should thank the good Lord every morning that he wakes up able to take a breathe. It could have been worse for the gambler; he could have died in that stunt with the gun, instead of only getting himself blown clear in the initial blast shockwave. Being alive is reward in and of itself, in other words. Anything else is just biscuits and gravy.

That's what Chisolm would say, if he knew the thoughts of his traveling companion. The warrant officer has been that close to death before, more than once, and still gracing this bountiful earth is enough. (Although knowing that devil Bogue is dead helps a great deal.)

Rose Creek is long behind the two of them now, chasing rumors that their newest quarry came this way as recently as just a few weeks. He's a notorious sumbitch, holding up coaches and banks with no regard for the welfare of his victims. Chisolm is looking forward to catching up with the asshole. Reward's the same dead or alive, and anyone who treats a fellow human being the way that the survivors have described doesn't deserve much in the way of delicate treatment. Just three days ago, during their last stop in civilization before heading into the mountains, he sent a telegraph to Goodnight (costly but efficient nonetheless), updating his old friend on their progress. And his opinion on handling by whichever team bags him.

The memory of that warm office comes back to him now, faced with a rough cabin and a lean-to behind it for their horses. There's enough wood set aside to keep the fire going for a while, piled up in the corner next to the fireplace. The building itself is sturdy enough to endure blizzard conditions; he's spent a winter or two up near the Great Lakes, and the construction is similar enough. Problem is the lack of other supplies. He's got dried meat strips and other staples in the saddle bag he brought in, but anything approaching a full meal will have to wait until the weather clears a little.

He's crouched in front of said fire, pondering a solution, when Faraday reappears. They've known one another a good lick of time now, but the familiarity doesn't prevent hard won instinct from pushing his revolver into one hand, spinning around on his boot heels and aiming for a head shot until the man speaks up. His grip loosens, and Sam slides the weapon back into its holster without further ado. ]

So noted. [ The flicker of a smile shows then vanishes when he straightens up, assured of his fire-making efforts, boots scuffing quietly against the floorboards. ] Just so we're both aware, Mr. Faraday, the sun might be a while yet.

You'll be relieved to hear there's a couple blankets 'apiece. Not much to 'em, but better than nothing.


(ooc: au is absolutely fine! please forgive my lack of icons.)

YAS GOOD (I tried let me know if it works weh)

[decidedtodosomething]

[He's very rarely on Courscant. One of his aliases is wanted by the empire but the picture they have is old - he has a scar across one cheek that weeks in the bacta tank helped to fix. His job is to blend in, disappear. There are ways to change your appearance.

Still he's never been this uneasy on a job, chasing a threat halfway across the galaxy. This was supposed to be simple, to the point. Easy. Catch a freighter out of one of the seediest parts of the multi-layered city.

Until he was recognized in an entirely different alias. One thing led to another and that's how they ended up here - in a part of the city with busted climate control. Somewhere above their heads the world is warm and bright but here it's freezing cold and the few residents are hunkering down waiting - potentially to freeze or be fixed.

He's hoping to be out of here before then. He can't be on this planet for long so he sends for help to the rebellion. Give a signal. Three knocks. I need extraction. The snow in this section is getting thicker by the day, seemingly by the hour and the climate control could go at any time according to the retired/nearly dead engineer who is living next door. Every day he waits, tries to shovel the walk outside the apartment he's squatting in-and waits.]



Fingers crossed someone comes for him.]

Winter Schnee|RWBY

[snowldier]

[Can assume this is for survival? She is not the snuggly sort.]

[wipedclean]

Yeah, that works.

[It doesn't really matter. He likes them all, or he wouldn't have bought them to begin with. It's just that sometimes certain teas are better suited for the situation than others. The red box he'd prefer for mornings, usually, but that's okay. He's not complaining.

He's considering complaining about how much Steve is wiggling, but once they're situated, it's all worth it. Bucky sighs and snuggles into Steve, tucking his face in the crook of Steve's neck and just taking in his presence for a bit.]

I like you.

i covered the regalia in moogle stickers in their honor instead

[thatgoodnight]

( ok! snowy cape caem it is! aww yis. the game needs more iris anyway )

[For the first time in literally forever, Ignis let Noctis sleep in, and late in the morning when Noctis woke up enough to realize that, well, no one at all had woken him up, he's rather confused and a trifle concerned. He doesn't bother getting fully dressed (t-shirt and sweatpants is totally good enough... ok and shoes because the floor is cold) before shuffling out of the bedroom into the wide open kitchen and dining room. It's colder here than it is in the bedroom, and he rubs his arms a bit as he clomps down the stairs towards the only other person who happens to be here just now.]

Mornin' Iris.

[He's still a bit groggy and his words are a little slurred as a result, but he manages a sort-of wave.]

Where is everyone?

[Eventually maybe he'll look out the window and see the thick blanket of snow covering everything - it's the very thing that's kept Gladio and Ignis holed up somewhere not here on a routine supply run and that Talcott is outside playing in just now. But for the moment, he is sleepily oblivious to the unexpected blizzard.... that he slept right through.]

[thatgoodnight]

[That gets a short laugh.]

Maybe you two could have a cook-off. -- would Your Majesty care for a cup of coffee?

[He assumes yes, because he's already getting two mugs out. He doesn't really like coffee (it's so bitter), but it's warm and it's supposed to be all manly and grown up to drink it and he likes the caffeine.]

I think there's stuff in the fridge if you really want to cook something, oh Master Chef.

[vestigial]

"Ain't never been on one before." An abandoned cabin with a corpse and some deer jerky works just fine for a first vacation. His only real concern is Rick worrying himself into an ulcer if they don't come back in time - but there's nothing they can do about that from here, with the snow this bad. Daryl's not one for lamenting the loss of modern comforts given how sparse his life was anyway, but goddamn does he miss being able to check the weather forecast on his phone.

Daryl does another sweep of the room they stuck the corpse in, and finds a box of junk in the closet, which he deposits back in the main room to dig through. "We should probably haul the bed out here later," he says. "Warmer." Hopefully the mattress doesn't suck and they can bring it back with them.

[decidedtodosomething]

[He squirms, wincing as he shifts his arm the wrong way before eyeballing her.]

Planning on doing that? And the hunting?

[No mocking in his tone. Instead he just leans back and winces.]

I hate being so ... [weak] injured.

[inlay]

My Majesty would most absolutely love a cup of coffee, Your Highness. Oh, uh... you can put a little sugar and milk in mine, too.

['cause fuck people who say men should only take coffee black. prompto ain't about that life.]

...Not too much, though.

[except when that life might interfere with his mental dietary guidelines.

prompto's not really a master chef — he's not anywhere near ignis's level — but he knows how to make food for himself, at least, which is more than what most teenage boys their age can say for themselves. he knows how to make meat dishes, mostly, which is good for noctis's vegetable-hating habits. either way, prompto pops the fridge and the freezer open to look at his options.]

Well, hey, looks like... you got poultry, some leftover rice... I could stir-fry this if you're up for that. Hey, d'you like your food spicy?

[made_of_stars]

[See? She almost says it out loud, what, with the way her eyebrow lifts just so. He's in pain, no matter how much he tries to prove otherwise. And it's probably best to rest as much as possible, to keep still just so that he doesn't inadvertently injure himself any worse.

They both know it.]

Yes. I am perfectly capable of doing both, you know. If it makes you feel any better, I promise not to run off and leave you to fend for yourself.

[It might be offered as a joke, but Jyn is seriously. For better or worse, they're in this together.]

I know. Is there anything I can do to help?

[toeloop]

( This was not what he wanted to deal with after such a devastating defeat. If it wasn't insult to injury that JJ had beat him in the Rostelecom Cup by a hair, when he'd performed so well and was sure he'd win this time, the evening had to culminate in a snow storm.

Being Russian he figured it would be no big deal, but not every skater or spectator happened to be from a place that experienced snow so commonly. Annoying amateurs.

Speaking of annoying, Yuri is trying his best to just stay in his own world, looking through his Instagram feed and hanging out in the waiting area for the go-ahead. He lives nearby just let him go home, he doesn't want to be disturbed by anyone unmentionable. )

[iesus]

Rick's definitely going to worry, possibly definitely into an ulcer. The last time Jesus was late coming back had been bad enough, but since it's both of them it's both better (they're a formidable team) and worse (they're a team no one wants to lose). So they've got this until they can get back. Hell, having a real weather forecast at all would be great. At least this cabin is a hell of a lot better than being stuck outside in this shit.

He's back to rummaging around through cabinets and drawers, though. "Well, we'll make sure it's a good one." Vacation, he means. "I used to go to the beach sometimes. Day trips. Not big on snow as a rule, but it's grown on me." It hasn't, really. The offhand comment's a little insight into his old life though, maybe. Or at least, he lived somewhere warm with beaches close enough to just take day trips to.

Not that any of that matters any more. "Yeah," he says about the bed. There are a couple of books (not titty magazines, okay) tucked away in the very back of a cabinet that aren't too badly damaged (and probably not actually from the guy that ended up dying in here) and he brings them back to set on the table with everything else. Of course he brings back books. He may give them a better look later. Even without much else at all, it's what counts as a successful run lately. He glances toward the box that Daryl's picking through, head canting aside. He doesn't ask if he's found anything since obviously if he does it's going into the inventory.

yuri plisetsky | yuri!!! on ice | ota

[toeloop]

[rennotrin]

A ladle... maybe a giant pot would work more than that?

[He tilts his head a little, thinking, but he's feeling too lazy to actually get up and look to see if that's even feasible.]

Just... scoop it.

[He mimes holding a pot in two hands by its handles and makes a scooping movement. Scoop, scoop.]

And then toss it, maybe? Not sure.

[He does smile a little at the mental image of having to scoop snow up like that. How ridiculous.]

[insurgent]

[ by design, a briefing ought to be just that — brief. moreover, hoth isn't equipped for any life, let alone the intelligent sort. fields of ice seamlessly transition to cascading snowscapes, obscuring wampas and their prey. when a blizzard descends on the planet, the world turns grey, only the shifting hail and snow visible to those grounded. and even that is but a blur, physically assailing more than anything else. as the temperatures dive far below freezing, jyn wonders who she should blame for her predicament.

herself, certainly, for allowing her rank of sergeant to become permanent, cementing the identity of jyn erso (someone not entirely familiar to her, even now). cassian, too, bears responsibility — for pulling her into his orbit (or orbiting her, in some way). for not leaving, for allowing gravity to bind them together — gravity and rebel intelligence missions. mostly, she thinks, whomever's intelligence led them to move from the picturesque jungles of yavin 4 to hoth, ought to seek early retirement before she can file a complaint.

three days after their briefing, jyn hopes to spend her afternoon leaning over a technician in the echo base command center, eyes fixed on the weather readings scrawling across his screen. despite the lack of urgency, she moves purposefully through the slick corridors. as she rounds a corner, she sees cassian exiting the command center. before they meet in the middle, she hears the familiar whir of the base's hurriedly constructed wiring. a sort of sizzle followed by a crack. where she was lifting her chin to acknowledge cassian only seconds before, the world shutters black.

when you're avoiding the empire, it seems infrastructure becomes second to escape. ]

Again. [ she breathes it more than she says it. ignores the hatch in the back of her mind creaking open, calling back to indeterminate time in a dark tunnel, with only a faulty lantern to reassure her of light anywhere in the galaxies.

here, the darkness is surely temporary, but a power cut entails heat failure, too, damaging even in the short run. ]

[thatgoodnight]

[Wordlessly Noct does just that and hands it off. Hopefully it's the right amount. If it's not, well... there's more sugar and milk or he could always dilute it with more coffee. For himself, Noct puts plenty of sugar in and watches Prompto poke about while he stirs. He's gotten very good at not grimacing when he takes his first sip.]

Uh... sometimes. Stir-fries are good. [If Prompto is talking making it spicy with ground up spices and things, he's ok with that. If he's talking about chopping up peppers and putting chunks of betrayal in, well... that's something else.]

[inlay]

Great!

[noctis will no doubt be somewhat relieved to see prompto reach up to the spice cabinet and take the ground pepper off the shelf.]

Alright, time to watch a master chef in action. Uh...

[the master chef has to awkwardly hesitate, because this still isn't his kitchen and he has no idea where anything is.]

...right, pans! Pans are important.

[totally guessing, he checks one lower cabinet and then a second one, coming up with the frying pan he's looking for.]

I just love me a nice sturdy pan. Like this one!