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HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?? | Day 4 | Open
Sep. 2nd, 2013 10:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ironspirit[Scenario A: literally anywhere in the house]
The first few days of searching hadn't been very successful, but the firebrand wasn't easily discouraged. It was clear by now that if his sister was here, she was either somewhere in the house he couldn't reach or intentionally trying to hide from him. He was left with no other choice.
Dragging himself along with one awkwardly-held hand, the sword wandered his way through the rooms and halls of his Keeper's house. It was hard not to notice him, being on fire and all (though he really did try his best to keep it down when he got to the gardens, this time). If that wasn't enough to draw anyone's attention, he offered a fiery wave and a shout to anyone who crossed his path. Maybe it'd be worthwhile to see what he wanted?
And, well, if for some reason a flaming sword-guy made them want to run for it, he was a pretty good runner...
[Scenario B: the hearth room, only one please!]
When the sword finally made his way back to the hearth room, he was entirely worn out. After spending his first few days in the house stubbornly lugging himself around, he'd already come to the conclusion that he needed something to carry himself with. This would be a simple matter, if only he wasn't so heavy and also on fire all the time. The list of materials that could be used to carry such a large, flammable weapon was unfortunately lacking. He'd done some searching anyway, whenever he had a moment to spare and a potentially-fireproof fabric within arm's reach, but rather than returning empty-handed he had no choice but to drag himself down the spiral staircase on his own. At least metal didn't sweat. If it did, he would've dropped himself a dozen times already thanks to his shoddy grip.
But something caught his eye before he could collapse into a chair and complain to himself—a bright red curtain tucked away in the corner of the room. He paused in front of the hearth. Well, if anything around here was going to be fireproof, it would probably be in the room with all the fire in it...
When his guess turned out to be correct, it was just a matter of getting the damn thing off the wall. The sword stood on the ends of his metal toes, trying to snip off a decent-sized chunk of the divider with his fingers. No one would even notice it was shorter.
... If he could cut it evenly, maybe. That was seeming more and more unlikely by the minute.
The first few days of searching hadn't been very successful, but the firebrand wasn't easily discouraged. It was clear by now that if his sister was here, she was either somewhere in the house he couldn't reach or intentionally trying to hide from him. He was left with no other choice.
Dragging himself along with one awkwardly-held hand, the sword wandered his way through the rooms and halls of his Keeper's house. It was hard not to notice him, being on fire and all (though he really did try his best to keep it down when he got to the gardens, this time). If that wasn't enough to draw anyone's attention, he offered a fiery wave and a shout to anyone who crossed his path. Maybe it'd be worthwhile to see what he wanted?
And, well, if for some reason a flaming sword-guy made them want to run for it, he was a pretty good runner...
[Scenario B: the hearth room, only one please!]
When the sword finally made his way back to the hearth room, he was entirely worn out. After spending his first few days in the house stubbornly lugging himself around, he'd already come to the conclusion that he needed something to carry himself with. This would be a simple matter, if only he wasn't so heavy and also on fire all the time. The list of materials that could be used to carry such a large, flammable weapon was unfortunately lacking. He'd done some searching anyway, whenever he had a moment to spare and a potentially-fireproof fabric within arm's reach, but rather than returning empty-handed he had no choice but to drag himself down the spiral staircase on his own. At least metal didn't sweat. If it did, he would've dropped himself a dozen times already thanks to his shoddy grip.
But something caught his eye before he could collapse into a chair and complain to himself—a bright red curtain tucked away in the corner of the room. He paused in front of the hearth. Well, if anything around here was going to be fireproof, it would probably be in the room with all the fire in it...
When his guess turned out to be correct, it was just a matter of getting the damn thing off the wall. The sword stood on the ends of his metal toes, trying to snip off a decent-sized chunk of the divider with his fingers. No one would even notice it was shorter.
... If he could cut it evenly, maybe. That was seeming more and more unlikely by the minute.
