Jack Frost (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
waywardspirit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2014-03-10 04:24 pm
waywardspirit) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-03-10 04:24 pm
And Then There Were 5
WHO: Everyone who lives at #004
WHERE: Residence #004
WHEN: 3/9-3/10
WHAT: New roommates! Welp.
WARNINGS: Naaaaaah
[ 1. Arrival ]
Jack sits on the sidewalk outside his new "home" for what seems like an age, running his thumb over the ridges of the key in his hand and debating whether to go in and satisfy his curiosity or catch a tailwind out of here, which is his first instinct.
It's not home, not for him, and he still doesn't want to be here, but the same sort of curiosity that kept him interested in a workshop full of elves and yetis and a rickety old sleigh anchors him to the ground and keeps him from following his instinct.
He buries his head between his knees. He runs his hands through his hair. He considers throwing the key down the sewer grate - and then he huffs, climbs to his feet, and simply hops onto a gust that carries him from the sidewalk to the top of the steps in one swift movement.
He hesitates for all of a second before sticking the key in the lock and turning it before he can decide to leave; the door creaks open, and he pokes his head inside.
"Hey! Anybody living here, or is it just me? Because I'm not gonna complain if it's just me."
[ 2. After the museum fire ]
He doesn't notice until he lands on his windowsill and the wind stops gusting around him that he smells like a campfire. Awesome. He tugs at the front of his hoodie, smudged black in spots with ash and debris and soaked around the collar by melted ice that hasn't had a chance to recover from the heat; he sniffs; and he coughs as his nostrils fill with the leftover scent of smoke from the museum.
He takes a couple of minutes just to conjure up a snowdrift beneath the windowsill and then collapses face-first into it with a soft whump.
He hates fire. He hates fire a lot. And he still smells like it. He grumbles a muffled noise into his snowdrift and pushes himself to his feet, dusting off snow powder and slipping into the hall. It's the wee hours of the morning; nobody's going to be awake, surely. He'll be happy if he can just find a can of air freshener or something and then take a nap.
[ Hey residents of House #004, come one, come all! Feel free to throw something out other than the prompts above or even skip ahead to some point after either of them. If you have questions/need ideas, you can PM or PP me! ]
WHERE: Residence #004
WHEN: 3/9-3/10
WHAT: New roommates! Welp.
WARNINGS: Naaaaaah
[ 1. Arrival ]
Jack sits on the sidewalk outside his new "home" for what seems like an age, running his thumb over the ridges of the key in his hand and debating whether to go in and satisfy his curiosity or catch a tailwind out of here, which is his first instinct.
It's not home, not for him, and he still doesn't want to be here, but the same sort of curiosity that kept him interested in a workshop full of elves and yetis and a rickety old sleigh anchors him to the ground and keeps him from following his instinct.
He buries his head between his knees. He runs his hands through his hair. He considers throwing the key down the sewer grate - and then he huffs, climbs to his feet, and simply hops onto a gust that carries him from the sidewalk to the top of the steps in one swift movement.
He hesitates for all of a second before sticking the key in the lock and turning it before he can decide to leave; the door creaks open, and he pokes his head inside.
"Hey! Anybody living here, or is it just me? Because I'm not gonna complain if it's just me."
[ 2. After the museum fire ]
He doesn't notice until he lands on his windowsill and the wind stops gusting around him that he smells like a campfire. Awesome. He tugs at the front of his hoodie, smudged black in spots with ash and debris and soaked around the collar by melted ice that hasn't had a chance to recover from the heat; he sniffs; and he coughs as his nostrils fill with the leftover scent of smoke from the museum.
He takes a couple of minutes just to conjure up a snowdrift beneath the windowsill and then collapses face-first into it with a soft whump.
He hates fire. He hates fire a lot. And he still smells like it. He grumbles a muffled noise into his snowdrift and pushes himself to his feet, dusting off snow powder and slipping into the hall. It's the wee hours of the morning; nobody's going to be awake, surely. He'll be happy if he can just find a can of air freshener or something and then take a nap.
[ Hey residents of House #004, come one, come all! Feel free to throw something out other than the prompts above or even skip ahead to some point after either of them. If you have questions/need ideas, you can PM or PP me! ]
numero uno
He's quick to throw on a shirt and button it up quickly before he exits the room, buttoning it all the way up. He doesn't manage to tuck it into his pants before he reaches the door, which is already ajar and a head full of white hair is poking through.
Gil stops in his tracks, confounded by the scenario. ]
Can I help you?
no subject
Guess it's not just me, then. This is house four, right? Pretty sure it's house four. The key works.
[ He squeezes his way in through the crack in the door, bare feet padding on the floor. He's trying to keep it as casual as possible, hands tucked in his pockets, shoulders relaxed. ]
So, apparently I -
[ A glance, and he notices what Gil hasn't yet, which is the light layer of frost crystals forming in his wet hair. Whoops. Resisting the urge to laugh - it's not funny, he tells himself, it's not - he takes a couple of steps back, hoping maybe it'll go unnoticed. ]
- Ah, apparently I live here now, according to the people in the suits. So. Hey.
1/2
You...
[ He trails off, trying to process the information.
Of course, Sharon's gone and Aileen hasn't properly moved into the house. Whoever is in charge of the situation might not know they're now six people.
Sharon's departure is still too fresh, so his shoulders deflate a touch. ]
They didn't mention anyone coming.
2/2
Um ―
[ Is the AC on too high? He feels the cold mostly in his hair, so he reaches up to that muss and as soon as his skin feels something cold and frosty, he pulls away with wide eyes. ]
What is this...?! In this weather?
no subject
No, wait, don't notice the cold, don't reach up - welp. So much for first impressions.
He huffs a soft breath, almost a laugh. ]
No, that would be me, but I swear it was an accident. Should I go? Maybe I should go -
no subject
When Jack claims responsibility, Gil shoots him an incredulous look. ]
What?
[ What does he mean by that? ]
no subject
So he shrugs, averting his eyes down the hall and grinning. ]
You'll figure it out eventually. Hey, where's the bedrooms? Or do you have an attic with a window? Because I'd rather live in an attic with a window if you've got one -
[ He hops a breeze and darts off down the hall, scattering a handful of snowflakes in his tailwind. A second later, there's a clatter from the kitchen, where he's seated himself on top of the fridge with a box of cereal. ]
Does anybody else live here, or is it just you?
no subject
[ He's put off by Jack's nonchalant attitude and begins to follow him, but the sudden appearance of more snowflakes throws him off once more. He lets out a quiet, surprised noise and then a confused one when Jack disappears, only to be heard shuffling around the kitchen.
Gil quickly stomps after him and chokes seeing Jack settled atop of the fridge. ]
What are you doing? Get off! And stop leaving snow everywhere!
[ He's already beginning to wonder why he bothers staying in a house Sharon is no longer living in. ]
no subject
Seriously? It's just a few snowflakes. They'll melt and disappear soon enough.
[ He conjures a flurry of them, flipping them off his fingers negligently and letting them drift across the kitchen. ]
If you can't handle a little snow, though, we're gonna have problems. My name's not Jack Frost for no reason, and nice to meet you too, by the way.
no subject
[ He already had to slave over a muddy carpet a while back. He is absolutely not dealing with water anywhere. It's dangerous! Someone could slip and fall hard on their arm or ankle. Or worse.
He waves his hand, as if to shoo the snowflakes away. ]
Knock it off! [ He glares back at Jack. ] Frost?
[ No, it doesn't ring a bell. The legend doesn't either. He's too busy being angry. ]
You can't come into this house and simply start sitting atop of fridges or making a mess wherever you please! There are others who live here!
no subject
[ What he wouldn't give to have all his magic back right now. He sets aside the box of cereal in his lap and scoots to the edge of the fridge, folds his hands in his lap, and stares down at Gilbert with a look of mock severity. ]
How about a deal: I'll come down off the fridge and promise to keep the snow to myself, [
Mostly] but you have got to relax a little. Haven't you ever had a snow day or something?no subject
I'm not ― [ making a deal with such a brat. ] I don't know what you mean by snow day, but I've seen snow, and it makes a mess. It's cold and when it melts it's wet and gets people sick.
no subject
Well, yeah, but - that's only half the picture.
[ He scoots to the edge of the fridge and drops back to the floor, landing light on his feet, almost cat-like, grinning a grin that's faintly apologetic. ]
I mean, haven't you ever had a snowball fight? Built a snowman with a friend, had hot chocolate with people you cared about? Experienced that first crisp breath of winter air when you step out on a cold morning? Snow's not all bad, I mean yeah, sometimes it makes messes and people get sick - but that's why there's the good parts, to make it easier to deal with the bad ones. Otherwise what would people do all winter, besides be miserable?
no subject
He's taken aback by Jack's spiel, more so on the fact it isn't patronizing at all, but comes across as genuinely curious. He isn't sure what to say in response. He thinks back to his childhood with Oz and Ada and the winters they spent together. If it hadn't been too cold, they stepped outside and played together, otherwise they were likely huddled up inside and Oz made to focus on his studies. As much as the tutors and other servants could make him focus, anyway. ]
... Yes. [ To some of those. He answers slowly. ] I don't see how it's relevant.
[ Fine, he'll be nice. ]
Please don't trail or create snow in the house. We have a yard in the back.
no subject
Just for you, I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises; sometimes it just escapes.
[ He flits back across the room, pausing at the kitchen door and peering out into the hallway, looking for bedrooms or something. Then he glances back over his shoulder. ]
Do you have an attic? Better yet, do you have a name, or do I just call you "that guy who doesn't like snow?"
no subject
[ He puts stiffly and folds his arms across his chest. He shakes his in response to Jack's question, flaring his nostrils as well, like he's caught scent of something unpleasant. ]
No, we don't. There's a spare bedroom, I think. We're already too many in this house. [ And with Aileen not home, he can't be sure she's decided to permanently live here or not. ] It's Gilbert.
no subject
[ He shrugs, nonchalant, leaning back against the doorway and stuffing his hands in his pockets. His staff rests in the crook of his elbow. He doesn't care for the lecture face, so he occupies himself by studying the kitchen tiles, chewing on his bottom lip. ]
I thought it was only five people to a house. Weird. Not that it's actually a big deal, I can go if there's not enough space - [ He jerks his thumb at the front door, down the hall. ] - I usually just bunk in trees or wherever, anyway, I don't live places.
no subject
Because of Jack's comment, Gil starts to relax again. His additional comments about leaving and living in a tree throws him off. He blinks, surprise overtaking his features. ]
It's... complicated. Miss Aileen... forgot to mention she was moving in.
[ He shakes his head. Now he feels bad. ]
A tree isn't a suitable place for anyone. You can stay! Just... mind the house.
no subject
I'll do what I can to make sure the house stays in tip-top shape. Promise. Though I gotta beg to differ on the trees, they can be comfy. Do we have any in the back yard?
[ He's just gonna continue confusing the fuq out of you Gil sorry man. Hands in his pockets, he shuffles around the corner and trots down the hall, poking his head through open doors. ]
no subject
[ What? He follows Jack again, trying to grab his attention again. What's with this kid? He's like on some sort of sugar high when he isn't sitting somewhere. ]
You can't sleep in a tree. There are squirrels, birds, and bugs in them. They must be filthy!
[ Dogs pee on trees. Trees are not beds. ]
no subject
[ He pauses and turns around, rocking back on the balls of his feet until he feels his back touch the wall, and he grins just slightly. Regardless of Gil's opinion of trees, at least they have trees. He'll take what he can get. ]
Besides, sleeping in trees is fun. You get to listen to the wind through the branches, peek up at the stars through the leaves, wake up to birds singing in the morning - it's not so bad. You should try it sometime.
no subject
[ He's fairly certain he almost caught a cold in this ridiculous weather. It's not even spring yet and he's dreading what the summer weather will bring. ]
No, thank you. [ He shakes his head. ] I don't have time for that.