http://nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com/ (
nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2014-06-08 04:14 pm
Entry tags:
Dorm Front Lawn, Sunday Afternoon
It was a lovely day today. Exactly the sort of day to spread a blanket out on the lawn, wear sunglasses, read a book and enjoy the sunshine.
Elsa -- usually an ice princess, but temporarily a polar bear cub -- was scampering around on the lawn, making the most adorable honk-growling noises. There was a very localized sort of storm around the cub: the lawn was frosting over under Elsa's feet. Little snowflakes danced in the air; Elsa was striving valiantly to catch them on her tongue.
It was incredibly cute. In fact, Eleanor was too busy watching to get very far in her book.
If anyone asked about the implausible snow, Eleanor would claim there was some Fandom-ish weather strangeness going on. Hopefully, they'd be too distracted by the adorableness to question that.
(SO VERY OPEN.)
Elsa -- usually an ice princess, but temporarily a polar bear cub -- was scampering around on the lawn, making the most adorable honk-growling noises. There was a very localized sort of storm around the cub: the lawn was frosting over under Elsa's feet. Little snowflakes danced in the air; Elsa was striving valiantly to catch them on her tongue.
It was incredibly cute. In fact, Eleanor was too busy watching to get very far in her book.
If anyone asked about the implausible snow, Eleanor would claim there was some Fandom-ish weather strangeness going on. Hopefully, they'd be too distracted by the adorableness to question that.
(SO VERY OPEN.)

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Elsa, for her part, was honk-growling a greeting at Celia. Hello! Hello! Could she nip at the ankles, please? ANKLES!
"I don't know how long transformations last," she added. "I'm getting a touch worried myself."
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Forgive the involuntary shudder. She would be brave, for Elsa. And she'd hover and make sure no one turned her into a lab rat, if it killed her.
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Or they might recommend a veterinarian.
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Or she could make someone else do it. Like Joker. He liked doctors.
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Not that that wouldn't be hilarious.
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When she finally recovered herself, her eyes were still dancing.
"Absolutely not," she said. Do not ask her how tempted she'd been, Celia. That would be so adorable.
Okay, giggling again.
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But it almost might be worth it, seriously.
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It would be even crueler to put a poor polar bear cub back into Elsa's normal elegant frame. She was refraining from enabling her friend. But only just.
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Except now that was all she was thinking about.
"How has cub-sitting been, anyway?" she asked. "Aside from any medical concerns. Has she been a terrible burden?"
She didn't look it, at all, but then Celia had always been partial to animals.
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Eleanor had tugged upwards on her shirt, to show off her midsection, but her midsection looked perfectly normal.
"-- I had scratches," she sighed. "I didn't realize they'd vanish this quickly."
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Poor Eleanor. Celia really wished she could take back that comment about being jealous.
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"It's not a conscious thing," she said with a shrug. "The body tries to heal itself. Sometimes it fails. Allergies work much the same way, on a much smaller scale."
That made it seem more ... normal, and less freakish. She hoped.
"I suppose it's useful for when one's pet polar bear likes to cuddle."
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That made it better, if she kept it light and stopped imagining bones growing back wrong.