towerofanimus | (no subject)

Characters: The Handmaid and YOU
Setting: Fourth floor!
Format: Action
Summary: The Handmaid is not taking very well to being trapped.
Warnings: None?

[When she first wakes up, for a split second, she thinks she's done something wrong and this is English's way of punishing her. Paralyzing her is certainly his style, but taking away her clothes and belongings is not. So she's wary. When she finds the trunk with all of her belongings carefully stowed away, even more alarm bells go off, and when she can't use her majyyks to turn back time to a point before she was here, she is enraged.

So she explores the castle, stalking the halls with a surly look on her face and her wands clutched tightly in her hands. The first floor she finds with an opening to the outside world somehow neutralizes her flying abilities, and by the time she makes it to the fourth floor with its glass walls, she is seething. It's bringing back memories of her time in Doc Scratch's care, and her first instinct is to shatter the windows with her majyyks.

Of course, that doesn't work.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Eheheh. As you say, miss~. You're in the tower. This would be one of the two dormitory floors.

~~[Your invisible apprehension is delicious, Handmaid.]~~

[Uggghh irritation mounting.]

What does that mean?

[Fran sees your irritation and raises you a dull look. As fascinating as the similarities between troll and human body language are, getting grumpy looks for answering questions isn't among the things she likes.]

It means what it sounds like. You're in a tower. It doesn't have a more proper name, as far as I'm aware.

[She lets out an irritated breath, crossing her arms.]

You are being intentionally vague. Why am I here? How do I leave?

My apologies. [That didn't sound very sincere.] If you would turn your attention back towards the bed you woke up on, there are several documents that would answer your first question.

[The Handmaid rolls her eyes and turns back to the bed. Just as Fran said, there's a slip of paper on it. As her eyes scan the page, her brows knit together, and when she's done she drops the note in disgust.]

This is ridiculous.

[As the Handmaid is busy reading, Fran plonks down on the side of her own bed and watches her.

Man, Fran, can you stare a bit more creepily? I think there's a few more iotas of unease you can inject into this.]

I won't argue that. But it is what's happening.

[Luckily, the Handmaid is pretty impossible to freak out.]

How do I leave?

[Fran chuckles.]

That's the big question, isn't it. Unfortunately, that's also the one no one's got an answer to.

Wonderful.

[If it's possible for her to be more irritated, she certainly is.]