dont know where the lights are taking us
but something in the night is dangerous
but something in the night is dangerous
The Queen shoots Jigano a look full of opinions about a history he can’t possibly know. Every time she tries talking, someone has a problem with her. Someone doesn’t want to. They want to accuse and attack. She nods brusquely to indicate that she’s heard him, but otherwise continues at her task.
Asking. She’s asking, not commanding or ordering. Asking. Suggesting.
When their careful work reveals an opening, she eyes the hole and then sizes up the people in the area. They’re all pretty tall, which might be useful for climbing back out, and also pretty wiry. With one eye on the walls, which groan ominously in the way that trees do when they’re about to lose a branch to ice, Wessex bites her lip. They need to be careful, not quick, and not reliant on magic.
She’s obviously worried. Their deaths would be on her, too.
“Maybe someone - something? Smaller? Just in case. Jigano? Your fox?” Is the bard willing to stick his head in while they continue to try and clear enough of a space for a full-grown man to slip in? And then she looks to the walls again. “Can those be propped up with ice pillars? Or shoved outward with water pressure?” She waggles her fingers at him, indicating his new magic, and then continues to move the rubble. Piece by piece. Slowly. Carefully.
----------------------
Wessex does some suggestions and continues to slowly move things.
Asking. She’s asking, not commanding or ordering. Asking. Suggesting.
When their careful work reveals an opening, she eyes the hole and then sizes up the people in the area. They’re all pretty tall, which might be useful for climbing back out, and also pretty wiry. With one eye on the walls, which groan ominously in the way that trees do when they’re about to lose a branch to ice, Wessex bites her lip. They need to be careful, not quick, and not reliant on magic.
She’s obviously worried. Their deaths would be on her, too.
“Maybe someone - something? Smaller? Just in case. Jigano? Your fox?” Is the bard willing to stick his head in while they continue to try and clear enough of a space for a full-grown man to slip in? And then she looks to the walls again. “Can those be propped up with ice pillars? Or shoved outward with water pressure?” She waggles her fingers at him, indicating his new magic, and then continues to move the rubble. Piece by piece. Slowly. Carefully.
----------------------
Wessex does some suggestions and continues to slowly move things.
