An observer might be forgiven for thinking that Eva's stillness as the fog withdrew came from pure shock. An appropriate reaction for a child thrown alone into an unknown place. But the moment birthed no panic or expression of surprise. Instead it lingered on for a few seconds, and ended with a chuckle. An evil little sound that gave the impression it could have very easily continued into a full-blown maniacal laugh, though it ended in a rueful-sounding sigh instead.
And then she was still again, outwardly. Testing the nature of the environment, spells of dazzling complexity searching for the the threads of spellwork, evidence of a false metaphysics that would prove this was the work of some mage or godling, give her a starting point to disassemble or usurp it. Nothing came, and she turned half her attention back to the mundane evidence of her eyes.
"Since ancient times," She started lecturing any stranger who happened to linger nearby. "Just as the state of death has been understood as a place one dwells in, so too has dying been regarded as an act of conveyance. In some places the dead were buried with coins for the boatman, though..."
She waved her ticket dramatically.
"The Egyptians preferred paper."
Outside A Cabin. It Might Be Yours.
Eva hadn't liked the sound of 'cabin' much, but she had held out hope as she began to walk down the sleepers that the closely-spaced doors concealed rooms that were bigger on the inside, or something. But as soon as she happened to pass by an open door her dubious expression collapsed into open annoyance.
"Are you serious? The best a magic space train can do is bunk beds? I'm not going to share a room with a bunch of mouth-breathing idiots."
She sounds a bit more like the child she appears to be when she's complaining like this, though the venom in her voice is still out of place.
7A
[ If anyone from Eva's cabin wants a cabin-specific thread just let me know and I'll write a prompt for ya! ]
Evangeline A.K. McDowell | Negima
An observer might be forgiven for thinking that Eva's stillness as the fog withdrew came from pure shock. An appropriate reaction for a child thrown alone into an unknown place. But the moment birthed no panic or expression of surprise. Instead it lingered on for a few seconds, and ended with a chuckle. An evil little sound that gave the impression it could have very easily continued into a full-blown maniacal laugh, though it ended in a rueful-sounding sigh instead.
And then she was still again, outwardly. Testing the nature of the environment, spells of dazzling complexity searching for the the threads of spellwork, evidence of a false metaphysics that would prove this was the work of some mage or godling, give her a starting point to disassemble or usurp it. Nothing came, and she turned half her attention back to the mundane evidence of her eyes.
"Since ancient times," She started lecturing any stranger who happened to linger nearby. "Just as the state of death has been understood as a place one dwells in, so too has dying been regarded as an act of conveyance. In some places the dead were buried with coins for the boatman, though..."
She waved her ticket dramatically.
"The Egyptians preferred paper."
Outside A Cabin. It Might Be Yours.
Eva hadn't liked the sound of 'cabin' much, but she had held out hope as she began to walk down the sleepers that the closely-spaced doors concealed rooms that were bigger on the inside, or something. But as soon as she happened to pass by an open door her dubious expression collapsed into open annoyance.
"Are you serious? The best a magic space train can do is bunk beds? I'm not going to share a room with a bunch of mouth-breathing idiots."
She sounds a bit more like the child she appears to be when she's complaining like this, though the venom in her voice is still out of place.
7A
[ If anyone from Eva's cabin wants a cabin-specific thread just let me know and I'll write a prompt for ya! ]