Frigga (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cloudspinner) wrote2014-07-28 08:53 pm
cloudspinner) wrote2014-07-28 08:53 pm
[ Video | Action ] Thread .001
[Fólkvangr seemed to come with a real pain in the back, and this was certainly not a banquet hall. Even before she opens her eyes, Frigga knows she is at a beach. She can feel the sand, the heat, smell the salt in the air... and, goodness, when was the last time she'd worn this little in public? Not since she was a child in Vanir and she had taken to the forests in a fit of rebellion, surely.
Sitting up, she sees exactly what she expects save for one thing - a book, curiously bound, with her name on the cover. Well aware of the power of names and books, Frigga pauses to magically assess the book before touching it. She can tell it is a thing of some small power, but the exact nature of that power seems harmless if utterly foreign. Picking up the book, it doesn't take long for her to ascertain that it is a communication device of some sort.
Well. This was no way to make an impression, but since she was in a desert as far as the eye could see and not at all looking forward to a long journey on bare feet, she decides to see if there are any who might render her assistance before taking further steps. Automatically, she falls into very formal language.]
Greetings. It appears that the arrival of strangers to this place is a thing of no little commonality. I wonder if there is any means of transport from this ocean to a more populated place?
[And Aaaction for those inclined to less first-contact type threads!]
[As informative and helpful as her sons are, there are some things a woman wants to do for herself. Finding the proper garments is one of those things. As soon as her sons are willing to part with her, she makes her way into town. She borrowed shoes, cast an illusion over her dress to approximately casual Asgardian walking garb.
...this 'shop' was fascinating. For a woman who had her outfits tailored specifically to her for the past several thousand years, shopping fully made clothes was an unusual experience. A random passerby might see her shake her head and laugh quietly more than once.]
Sitting up, she sees exactly what she expects save for one thing - a book, curiously bound, with her name on the cover. Well aware of the power of names and books, Frigga pauses to magically assess the book before touching it. She can tell it is a thing of some small power, but the exact nature of that power seems harmless if utterly foreign. Picking up the book, it doesn't take long for her to ascertain that it is a communication device of some sort.
Well. This was no way to make an impression, but since she was in a desert as far as the eye could see and not at all looking forward to a long journey on bare feet, she decides to see if there are any who might render her assistance before taking further steps. Automatically, she falls into very formal language.]
Greetings. It appears that the arrival of strangers to this place is a thing of no little commonality. I wonder if there is any means of transport from this ocean to a more populated place?
[And Aaaction for those inclined to less first-contact type threads!]
[As informative and helpful as her sons are, there are some things a woman wants to do for herself. Finding the proper garments is one of those things. As soon as her sons are willing to part with her, she makes her way into town. She borrowed shoes, cast an illusion over her dress to approximately casual Asgardian walking garb.
...this 'shop' was fascinating. For a woman who had her outfits tailored specifically to her for the past several thousand years, shopping fully made clothes was an unusual experience. A random passerby might see her shake her head and laugh quietly more than once.]
no subject
[Which sounds uncomfortably egotistical, but beyond the limits of his own moral code he hasn't really figured out what he can't do, although in this place it's more constrained than back home.]
no subject
I suppose that depends on what you mean by 'basically whatever,' moreover how much power it takes to accomplish such a feat. [A slight shrug.] On one hand, reality changes all the time - the merest pebble falling in a pond changes the nature of reality. On the other hand, some things are far less malleable.
no subject
That's what I think, anyway.
no subject
[She has a point to this question, honest.]
no subject