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come_sailaway2023-01-07 02:24 pm
actuallyawolf) wrote in come_sailaway2023-01-07 02:24 pm
skywriting and other things
Who: Ylva, OTA
What: Shenanigans, as usual.
When: Early January
human't
On the one hand, the hotel had been full of murder. On the other, it was the closest thing to feeling at home she's felt in months. Fake forest or not, it had still looked like a forest. There had been weather. On the ship, Ylva is equally likely to sleep in her cabin as on a deck chair by the pool. Soft beds are nice, but sometimes sleeping indoors is stifling, and she's too aware of the walls around her to settle. At the hotel, well, there had been no one to stop her from digging a hollow in the snow in a sheltered place and curl up as a wolf. It had been familiar, comfortable.
Now back on the ship, Ylva is having trouble adjusting.
While running into her moving around on all fours is not unusual, there is definitely more Wolf Time these days. It's a way of coping.
Someone might run into her in the evenings, up on the deck, howling at the sky.
Someone else might witness a large tawny wolf pad confidently into Windjammers and pull herself up to grab a whole roast cornish hen from the buffet table.
Someone else might just find her in a deck chair or a sofa in the library, snoozing.
watching the clouds go by
But there are those moments where, for a little while, for one reason or another, she has to have thumbs. Here, then, Ylva stretches out on the deck by the pool, staring at the sky with a large strawberry daiquiri at her elbow, and working on making vapour coalesce out into visible shapes. She spends a long time deliberating on each message before putting it into place.
The words will float over the ship for an hour before the wind disperses them, unless she gets bored and blows it away earlier.
You might find her giggling to herself after putting up her latest sky graffiti, or deliberating over what her next message to the Serena Eterna should be.
wildcard
You know where to find me.
What: Shenanigans, as usual.
When: Early January
human't
On the one hand, the hotel had been full of murder. On the other, it was the closest thing to feeling at home she's felt in months. Fake forest or not, it had still looked like a forest. There had been weather. On the ship, Ylva is equally likely to sleep in her cabin as on a deck chair by the pool. Soft beds are nice, but sometimes sleeping indoors is stifling, and she's too aware of the walls around her to settle. At the hotel, well, there had been no one to stop her from digging a hollow in the snow in a sheltered place and curl up as a wolf. It had been familiar, comfortable.
Now back on the ship, Ylva is having trouble adjusting.
While running into her moving around on all fours is not unusual, there is definitely more Wolf Time these days. It's a way of coping.
Someone might run into her in the evenings, up on the deck, howling at the sky.
Someone else might witness a large tawny wolf pad confidently into Windjammers and pull herself up to grab a whole roast cornish hen from the buffet table.
Someone else might just find her in a deck chair or a sofa in the library, snoozing.
watching the clouds go by
But there are those moments where, for a little while, for one reason or another, she has to have thumbs. Here, then, Ylva stretches out on the deck by the pool, staring at the sky with a large strawberry daiquiri at her elbow, and working on making vapour coalesce out into visible shapes. She spends a long time deliberating on each message before putting it into place.
The words will float over the ship for an hour before the wind disperses them, unless she gets bored and blows it away earlier.
You might find her giggling to herself after putting up her latest sky graffiti, or deliberating over what her next message to the Serena Eterna should be.
wildcard
You know where to find me.
no subject
no subject
"I know there's magic that can regrow eyes, or lost limbs, or things like that. Permanently, not for a little bit. And theoretically it's something I could learn. I already know a lot of healing magic. I've had to do that a lot. But it's also a way more difficult spell than I think I could ever do, at least right now."
no subject
Yes they're still on the floor of the Promenade, what of it.
"You got a favorite flower, love? Or like...a favorite population of flowers? Don't ask why I'm asking, I'm working on something and it's gonna take a while."
no subject
"I like clover. And, oh, roses, but not the fancy roses people grow in gardens. The wild ones, that only have five petals, you know. Lots of thorns, berries in the fall. Those ones." Ylva gives Erin a suspicious look. "Why can't I ask why you're asking?"
Damn OCs and their one liners
no subject
"Fiiiiine. Fine. I'll wait."
It does seem like some sort of pressure to be equally... good, in some way. Ylva fully panics for about two seconds, during which she stares into space, then says in an undertone, "Am I supposed to think about a surprise for you too?"
no subject