infomodder: stop asking my favorite scary movie (hello this is dramatic doge)
ᴀᴘʀɪʟ's ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ ([personal profile] infomodder) wrote2016-04-14 08:35 pm
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IC contact [Mask or Menace]



"Gone fishing."

[ so don't leave messages to ruin the after fishing glow !!!

your one stop shop for not leaving him alone
]
lyingheart: http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?id=2378994 (look back | this isn't where i should be)

adjusts horns on headband

[personal profile] lyingheart 2014-09-28 10:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's not a look she finds she likes. The only time she's been the focal point of any universe, it has been for ends she doesn't like. Her father's focal point, but not seeing her, only seeing what she could be, when properly trained. Armin's focus, and what it had seen, stripping down all the quiet and solitude she surrounded herself with to discover why it was that Annie had always held herself apart. Even Eren's focus, when he hadn't been able to deny the reality of what Armin had been saying.

Mikasa's focus, when she'd cut off her fingers and told her simply to fall.
]

Ice.

[ Is all she says in the end, looking into his small little cooler, at the blue blocks inside. She hesitates before reaching out, setting the box of ice cream bars on the counter. She reaches her hand in, touches one of the blocks, feels the chill on her fingertips. A flickering of her eyelashes as yet another small wonder of the modern world comes to her attention. ]

Whenever you wanted it. They sent it downriver during the winter, when it was harvested in the Northern regions. Only those in Wall Sina could afford to have had enough to keep it in a cellar for year-round use.
lyingheart: anonsanta, let me know who to credit! (sad | fly low ye carrion crow)

compells me to party

[personal profile] lyingheart 2014-09-30 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
Trays.

[ Takes a little effort, but no effort at all when weighed against what she's used to, in the larger sense of things. Annie is both rushing headlong into understanding as much as she can, and stumbling over the little details, the things people take for granted and never discuss as the here and now, as the small parts that make up the whole. Will is better about that - better in giving avenues to seeing the minutea, letting her ask questions, with half his answers being as leading as others.

There's little to the block other than textures and sights - the feeling of cold, btu he's explained that, too. She has to wonder. A chemical gel that can do all that?
]

What compound?

[ But it's an irreverent question - she shakes her head, setting down the ice block into the container, unconcerned with the little smililng face that looks up from something as frigid as she was meant to be. She'll remember these. Temeprature influence and control, like so many aspects of the modern world, made portable, convenient. ]

Didn't need ice if you were in the mountains, so much. Even in the summer, the creeks were still cold.

[ Mountains outside the Walls. Her outside perspective, taken in, during those years where personalities adapt and form. There are many parts of Annie stuck at eleven. Shy, unsure of herself with social interactions and her peers. The way she oscillates between the professional, the steady, the calm, and the quiet, the concerned, the unsure. When is it okay to care. When isn't it? Is she allowed to be this way, or that way, can she change, truly, in the end, can she be someone who takes the flow and finds a way to cut through the current?

Is she going with the flow here, too? In so many ways, she is. Adapting, pulling on whatever she must to be part of this society, this culture. Stumbling in ways she can't make up for in observation alone, opening herself up to asking, questioning, exposing her ignorance, letting it be used against her as much as she uses it to misdirect attention.

Learning about what she can. Wondering which things will matter most. Letting it all slide by, like words about friendship and obligation, honor and duty, ideals and the idealism that destroys. (That's why you're dangerous, Light. It's why any idealist is a danger, even as they might inspire.) Drawn like a moth to an oepn flame, she's not sure where she can draw the line between the infatuation of trying in this place, and the very real possibility of being incinerated in the very heat she seeks out.

What a way to go. The moth don't care...
]

Nothing much like Florida's been during the summer.