A lot has happened.
It's a little bit overwhelming, really.
I was on Antarctica. On an expedition, observing penguins, leopard seals and orcas (mostly). I was a veterinarian, a scholar, an intelligent, decent human being who just wanted to learn and help and, and I can't even remember what else because too much has happened.
When saw the city outlines on the horizon, I knew that there was still a distance to cover, but hope had reignited within me, giving me an energy that, combined with the not-so-gentle nagging of a raven, got us there. I tried not to dwell too much on the implications of, well, everything.
What has happened to me?
I stand awkwardly when we reach the walls, doing my best to look like I know what the fuck is going on. The guard waves us through seemingly without a worry, and I continue onwards with a nod and polite smile. I resist the temptation to run towards the nearest person I see, determined to follow the raven (who is still holding my glove, still leading me somewhere), to see where this weird new chapter of my life is leading me.
It's getting cold (well, colder), and the sunlight has already shifted below the mountains, soon it will be below the true horizon and nightfall will hold the city in its grip proper. But still we walk, and it is probably embarassingly delayed that I realise just where the bird has led me.
A fucking palace.
I feel like I've been dropped into Frozen and stumbled across Elsa's freakin' ice castle. My mouth drops open as I take the sight in, and with some surprise I realise that the bird has stopped here, and that someone has opened the front door and is beckoning us in.
The damn bird still has my glove and just happily hops on through the open doorway, and well, I've followed the damn thing this far, so I take those last few steps and find myself inside, where it is significantly warmer and where, at last, I hear the sound of another's voice grace my ears.
It's a relief that I understand them. On top of everything else, having to learn a new language would have just short-circuited my brain out.
"Uh, hello," I manage, doing my best to not get distracted by the fact that I'm in a freakin' castle and I just followed a bird (who still has my glove damnit) what feels like halfway across the Antarctic ice shelf. I give myself a moment to catch my breath, finally realising that though I am fit, I am also exhausted. I manage to shake the man's proferred hand, doing my best to return his smile, though no doubt there is a lot of uncertainty behind my expression.
"The name's Chulane, though my mates call my Chuy," I respond, once again doing my best not to dwell on the fact that 'my mates' might not be so nearby anymore (are they still alive? Did they come through to this strange plane of existence as well?)
(Am I dead?)
"This bird uh, found me, out near a glacier," (how do I sum up what a fucked up experience I've just had to a man who lives in a freakin' palace without sounding completely insane and getting thrown out?) "He stole my glove, and seemed to want me to follow him, so, that's what I did."
I didn't really know what else to say, or even how to say everything that has happened. Fatigue, it would seem, was having a battle with the adrenaline that has been keeping me going thus far, and was slowly but surely winning out. Still, I manage to stay standing, and await whatever this world next wants to throw at me with a weary countenance.
ooc: I AM SORRY FOR THE ESSAY THERE IS NO NEED TO MATCH THE LENGTH I JUST KEPT GOING
It's a little bit overwhelming, really.
I was on Antarctica. On an expedition, observing penguins, leopard seals and orcas (mostly). I was a veterinarian, a scholar, an intelligent, decent human being who just wanted to learn and help and, and I can't even remember what else because too much has happened.
When saw the city outlines on the horizon, I knew that there was still a distance to cover, but hope had reignited within me, giving me an energy that, combined with the not-so-gentle nagging of a raven, got us there. I tried not to dwell too much on the implications of, well, everything.
What has happened to me?
I stand awkwardly when we reach the walls, doing my best to look like I know what the fuck is going on. The guard waves us through seemingly without a worry, and I continue onwards with a nod and polite smile. I resist the temptation to run towards the nearest person I see, determined to follow the raven (who is still holding my glove, still leading me somewhere), to see where this weird new chapter of my life is leading me.
It's getting cold (well, colder), and the sunlight has already shifted below the mountains, soon it will be below the true horizon and nightfall will hold the city in its grip proper. But still we walk, and it is probably embarassingly delayed that I realise just where the bird has led me.
A fucking palace.
I feel like I've been dropped into Frozen and stumbled across Elsa's freakin' ice castle. My mouth drops open as I take the sight in, and with some surprise I realise that the bird has stopped here, and that someone has opened the front door and is beckoning us in.
The damn bird still has my glove and just happily hops on through the open doorway, and well, I've followed the damn thing this far, so I take those last few steps and find myself inside, where it is significantly warmer and where, at last, I hear the sound of another's voice grace my ears.
It's a relief that I understand them. On top of everything else, having to learn a new language would have just short-circuited my brain out.
"Uh, hello," I manage, doing my best to not get distracted by the fact that I'm in a freakin' castle and I just followed a bird (who still has my glove damnit) what feels like halfway across the Antarctic ice shelf. I give myself a moment to catch my breath, finally realising that though I am fit, I am also exhausted. I manage to shake the man's proferred hand, doing my best to return his smile, though no doubt there is a lot of uncertainty behind my expression.
"The name's Chulane, though my mates call my Chuy," I respond, once again doing my best not to dwell on the fact that 'my mates' might not be so nearby anymore (are they still alive? Did they come through to this strange plane of existence as well?)
(Am I dead?)
"This bird uh, found me, out near a glacier," (how do I sum up what a fucked up experience I've just had to a man who lives in a freakin' palace without sounding completely insane and getting thrown out?) "He stole my glove, and seemed to want me to follow him, so, that's what I did."
I didn't really know what else to say, or even how to say everything that has happened. Fatigue, it would seem, was having a battle with the adrenaline that has been keeping me going thus far, and was slowly but surely winning out. Still, I manage to stay standing, and await whatever this world next wants to throw at me with a weary countenance.
ooc: I AM SORRY FOR THE ESSAY THERE IS NO NEED TO MATCH THE LENGTH I JUST KEPT GOING
Chulane
