[closed: seasons change and i transform]

[isherarmor]

WHO: Eugenides (kleptocratic), Markus (saviorexe), Prompto (mercurio), Rey (forcevisions), Sansa (isherarmor), Stephen (rehandle), Tommy (mutriarchy)
WHERE: Storage room in PRESERVE's safehouse, New Tokyo
WHEN: October 10
WHAT: An experiment in mimicking powers
NOTES OR WARNINGS: TBD!



[The room is a little on the small side, spare but perfectly functional for sitting or standing if one does not mind being surrounded by suitcases. They've been stacked quite high, but neatly along walls, leaving what room is left in the center to be as welcoming as such a room can be, though it wasn't meant to be welcoming at all, because it had been locked. A wounded beanbag chair sits deflated against the wall farthest from the door, a small pile of its filling beside it.

It is no longer locked when Sansa finds it (not a coincidence) - she's tried several rooms prior to this one and they've been what's come to be expected in a safehouse: bathrooms, kitchen, rooms of shelved beds. This, though? This has to be it.

She sends a message to the inboxes of those that volunteered to help her with this experiment:]

I've found the room, whenever you're ready.

[It's short and to the point - maybe she should have amended it to suggest food or drink, but she thinks that might spoil the concentration - it's not a party, after all. If any of this is successful, that might be something to entertain in New Amsterdam.


She steps inside, reaching for a light and finding that it's turned on simply by thinking of doing so. If she's the first one in she'll wait. If she's not the first one in, then someone might have been waiting in the dark and she's in for a bit of a start as she notices them.

...what are you doing lurking in the dark, anyway? that's a little creepy]

Comments

[forcevisions]

[ The lights are on when Rey arrives at the space that Sansa had set aside. She's zipped up in a jacket even though they're inside--the heating is working fine, but when it's so cold, no one heats it quite warm enough. Not as warm as New Amsterdam had been, certainly, and Rey had been one of the few comfortable with those temperatures. ]

Do we have enough space here?

[ She isn't really sure what to expect of this experiment. ]

[isherarmor]

We should, I think. Even at my best I've only ever made a small change in a thing. [She huffs a little laugh at that and repeats herself.] At my best. My best was only the once.

[Taking note of Rey's jacket, she smiles and offers:] Cold like this takes some getting used to, I admit. Some never do.

[It's been a long time since Sansa has been in this kind of cold, not counting the dreams, and she feels, somehow, more herself. It does bleed in - that sort of chill - but she's welcomed it, and seems easily at home in her skin. She's clad reasonably, she thinks, for indoors in a long black skirt and a grey softspun sweater, a pair of soft, thin tights underneath and the comfortable light up shoes she'd bought with Prompto, when she would have packed boots instead. They don't match, but she likes them well and the skirt is long enough they're barely seen but for the lights.]

I'm very grateful for this, you know.

[Once here, she's unsure of how best to start - should she try from a distance, should she ask for contact - but then an idea strikes her. It might be silly, but when has that stopped her before? All of this might be silly, from someone's perspective.]

Are you comfortable giving me your hand?

[forcevisions]

[ She regards Sansa with some scrutiny, some unease. Since returning from the dream, she has been more sheepish about offering up the empathy bond. Having people spelunking--at times literally--in her trauma has that effect. She'd clung to it as the last vestige of the Force, before, but now ...

Reluctantly, she holds her hand out and gives a firm nod. Sansa wouldn't be asking if it weren't necessary to what she is trying. ]

I've only been in cold like this once before. Actually, I don't think it was even as bad as this. [ There'd been less snow on Starkiller, even if it had seemed like a lot at the time. ] I don't really want to get used to it. I come from a desert.

[isherarmor]

[She takes Rey's hand as gently as she's able, sliding her fingers to intertwine through, and thinking very hard on being warm, banishing the heat of King's Landing to recall instead the pink sand beach of Clock, the lowering field she woke in, the gentle warmth of the sun on her shoulders bleeding into the comfort she feels in this temperature.

It might help, it might not, but she owes it to Rey to try - especially when it's such a simple thing. And it's a way of testing the bond and its limits, a way of allowing herself to be of help while she's asking so much in return.

She can't help but feel Rey's unease creep in as her chest begins to emanate light, but she fights it like she fights the chill that runs through her, as if she were standing in front of an open wintery window in her smallclothes. The idea of a desert flickers at the edges, as if just out of reach - and warmth.]

I...can see where that would be a shock to the senses. Can you feel anything different just now?

[Now she's thinking very hard of a chamber in Winterfell, a gently crackling fire - the walls warmed by the water beneath, snow falling outside the window but a separate thing - stone and glass between the warmth and the chill.]

[forcevisions]

[ There's a twinge of relief in the bond too. Even as overwhelming as they are, there's something familiar about being able to feel what Sansa feels so acutely. Something that reminds her of another place and time.

It melts into the feeling of home that Sansa is focusing on. It's strange, actually. Rey doesn't know that feeling--doesn't know that she could name it. But it brings tears to her eyes, even as she holds them back. That sentiment is foreign for her, always elusive, always denied. She knows exactly enough to know that it's what she has been aching for.

Her voice cracks faintly as she says, ] Yes. [ She swallows. ] I don't -- [ Her fingers twitch to pull away from it. ]

[mercurio]

[prompto shows up shortly after an expedition outside in the cold. he's pulling at his scarf and gloves by the time he makes it to the room, warming up quickly from the heating in the dorm.]

Hey, Sansa.

[he pockets the gloves in his jacket's pockets, tosses the scarf atop a suitcase.]

Sorry. Got your message when I was out, hopefully you weren't waiting long?