The cold is not something Evelyn is very fond of. Certainly, she has experienced it in her youth – London is not what one would call a warm place in the winter – but that does not mean she likes it. There are many reasons she currently lives and works (lived and worked, apparently, as she is here now and cannot seem to get home) in Egypt, and the heat is no small factor.
Regardless.
The moment Evy steps outside, she's thrown into the most violent snowstorm she's ever seen. It's thick, brutally cold, and unforgiving. She cannot see her hand in front of her face, and turning back to the door from whence she came proved to be fruitless – either it wasn't there, or she simply couldn't find it again.
Best to press on, then, isn't it? Keep calm, carry on, and all that. Evy takes a deep breath (it hurts; the cold is so biting her lungs ache as she breathes in), wraps her coat tighter around her, and pushes on.
The cave is unexpected, but she stumbles in anyway – any shelter is better than none at this point. Deeper and deeper she goes, until the icy, terrifyingly beautiful castle comes into view. Evy can see the light from the windows and she picks up her pace, hurrying closer, desperate for heat, for someone to answer her questions about what the bloody hell was going on. She's been here only a short time, and now...this.
Whatever it was.
The doors open to a strange but beautiful (and not unwelcome) scene; fires, decorations, other people. There's food, but she isn't hungry – just frustrated, curious, and a bit scared (this, she clamps down on, she's seen worse, hasn't she, nothing to fear here now is there?). She is so hoping to find someone in charge, but once she finds the throne room, there is...no one there.
No one but her.
She doesn't remember how the crown ended up in her hands let alone sat on her head, but the next few...minutes? Hours? Evy isn't sure – are truly what frightens her. People she trusts betraying her, plotting her death. Her brother trying to poison her, her father with a knife, Rick, with a gun. It's colder, and colder and colder until finally, mercifully, she rips the crown from her head and flings it, backing up in horror as the sight clears in front of her and she is left staring at a scene unfit for the eyes of the living. With a hand clamped over her mouth and a strangled scream in the back of her throat, Evy turns and flees, booted feet thudding against the cold floor, flinging herself at the nearest door and right back into the city – and quite possibly into someone.
“My God,” she gasps, the door slamming behind her, breath coming in short, dry heaves, eyes and hair wild.
NETWORK
un: librarian
To Whom it May Concern;
I'm terribly sorry to be a bother, but is there perhaps a map of the city I could acquire?
Also if someone would point me in the direction of the library, I would very much appreciate it.
Regards, Evelyn Carnahan
WILDCARD
(( ooc; have something else in mind? message me on plurk @ pincurls or discord @ gipsydanger#5340 ))
evelyn carnahan | the mummy
The cold is not something Evelyn is very fond of. Certainly, she has experienced it in her youth – London is not what one would call a warm place in the winter – but that does not mean she likes it. There are many reasons she currently lives and works (lived and worked, apparently, as she is here now and cannot seem to get home) in Egypt, and the heat is no small factor.
Regardless.
The moment Evy steps outside, she's thrown into the most violent snowstorm she's ever seen. It's thick, brutally cold, and unforgiving. She cannot see her hand in front of her face, and turning back to the door from whence she came proved to be fruitless – either it wasn't there, or she simply couldn't find it again.
Best to press on, then, isn't it? Keep calm, carry on, and all that. Evy takes a deep breath (it hurts; the cold is so biting her lungs ache as she breathes in), wraps her coat tighter around her, and pushes on.
The cave is unexpected, but she stumbles in anyway – any shelter is better than none at this point. Deeper and deeper she goes, until the icy, terrifyingly beautiful castle comes into view. Evy can see the light from the windows and she picks up her pace, hurrying closer, desperate for heat, for someone to answer her questions about what the bloody hell was going on. She's been here only a short time, and now...this.
Whatever it was.
The doors open to a strange but beautiful (and not unwelcome) scene; fires, decorations, other people. There's food, but she isn't hungry – just frustrated, curious, and a bit scared (this, she clamps down on, she's seen worse, hasn't she, nothing to fear here now is there?). She is so hoping to find someone in charge, but once she finds the throne room, there is...no one there.
No one but her.
She doesn't remember how the crown ended up in her hands let alone sat on her head, but the next few...minutes? Hours? Evy isn't sure – are truly what frightens her. People she trusts betraying her, plotting her death. Her brother trying to poison her, her father with a knife, Rick, with a gun. It's colder, and colder and colder until finally, mercifully, she rips the crown from her head and flings it, backing up in horror as the sight clears in front of her and she is left staring at a scene unfit for the eyes of the living. With a hand clamped over her mouth and a strangled scream in the back of her throat, Evy turns and flees, booted feet thudding against the cold floor, flinging herself at the nearest door and right back into the city – and quite possibly into someone.
“My God,” she gasps, the door slamming behind her, breath coming in short, dry heaves, eyes and hair wild.
NETWORK
un: librarian
To Whom it May Concern;
I'm terribly sorry to be a bother, but is there perhaps a map of the city I could acquire?
Also if someone would point me in the direction of the library, I would very much appreciate it.
Regards,
Evelyn Carnahan
WILDCARD
(( ooc; have something else in mind? message me on plurk @ pincurls or discord @ gipsydanger#5340 ))