Entry tags:
- !event,
- archer: ray gillette,
- archer: sterling archer,
- attack on titan: erwin smith,
- attack on titan: levi ackerman,
- dceu: diana prince,
- fate/grand order: kiara sessyoin,
- fate/grand order: leonardo da vinci,
- ffxiv: takame kesi,
- good omens: aziraphale,
- good omens: crowley,
- jjba: okuyasu nijimura,
- kipo: kipo oak,
- original character: daylight vis lornlit,
- persona 4: shinjiro aragaki,
- tangled: cassandra,
- tangled: rapunzel,
- the last of us: ellie,
- the untamed: huaisang nie,
- undertale: papyrus,
- undertale: sans
DECEMBER 2020 EVENT - PART 2

CHAPTER ONE, PART 2: AND ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE
A creature was stirring.
As Christmas grows closer, look up to the skies
Your city is in for a winter surprise
Come enter the village and see all the change
And come face-to-face with the hostile and strange
From iced-over ponds to the workshop's display
There's snowmen and reindeer to complete the holiday
And just when you think that you're safe and you're sound
You open your door and see what's to be found....
LET IT SNOW
(cw: sensations of drowning)
JINGLE BELLS
(cw: mind control)
UP ON THE HOUSETOP
(cw: death and decay, claustrophobia)
RUN, RUDOLPH, RUN
(cw: animal death and dismemberment, violence, death and decay, non-human cannibalism)
HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS
LET IT SNOW
CW: sensations of drowning

Over the next week and a half, a blizzard beats down upon the town. Its effects seem to vary by the hour: Though the snow never quite stops, there are times when it falls soft and fluffy, and there are times when it falls so heavily and the wind blows so fiercely that it’s impossible to see more than a few inches ahead of you. You’re welcome to pay visits to your neighbors, of course; they might need help digging out their sidewalks or hauling cords of firewood inside—especially when the electricity goes out. Hopefully you’re not caught out and about when the weather takes a turn for the worse again!
Even inside your houses, you aren’t safe from the blizzard. The first time you open your door on December 16th, feeling the blast of cold air coming from it, you think you know what’s coming. After all, you’ve certainly had enough experience with being sent to the Christmas village in the first half of the month! You sigh, resigning yourself to the long walk home… but as you pass through the door, everything changes in a way it didn’t before. Your brain doesn’t know which way is up as you find yourself underwater, breath expelling in a rush of bubbles as the shocking cold penetrates your body. Somehow you’ve come through the door and ended up beneath the lake’s surface—but the layer of ice above you has thinned and can be easily broken through to regain your feet and drag yourself out of the water to shore.
But you’d better be quick. Take too long and you might feel something grabbing at your heels, trying to pull you back underwater and further into the lake.
Here in the village, the conditions are always bad. Visibility is poor between the wind and the snow, heavy and cold and wet, and you’re soaked to the skin from your recent plunge. Thankfully, there are towels in the small building that was once the skate exchange station, and there are plenty of now-abandoned buildings around the village where you can hunker down and try to warm up before heading home. Maybe it would be a good idea to leave a spare change of clothes behind...
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JINGLE BELLS
CW: mind control

Beyond the freezing winds and the ice you're liable to lose your footing as you pull yourself out of the lake, it's dark as can be out here. Don’t bother looking for a Christmas star to guide you home; out here and this close to the forests, the stars and moon are blotted out by thick clouds and the snow that falls in clumps. Unfortunately, as experience has taught you by now, this is a one-way trip and the only way out is forward.
Of course, this is easier said than done. With its empty buildings and desolate pathways, the Christmas village is a husk of its former self. The cute cobblestone thoroughfares and craft stations that were filled with screaming children only a few days ago are barren and frozen over, as if left to rot in the cold. The other little faux gingerbread and peppermint stick houses aren't much better. At some point on the first day of the blizzard, the power was knocked out, plunging the village into a blackout you now have to navigate if you want to get home. All of the windows are crusted with ice, dark and empty.
Save for one.
As you walk by one particular building, a faint yellow and red glow begins to glimmer from the storefront. One by one, the tiny cottages in the miniature village diorama begin to flicker to life, gears clicking as the mechanisms start powering up. On a miniature turntable hidden behind the display, a needle drops onto a record and a tinny version of Jingle Bells begins to play. A tiny train chugs around the tracks surrounding the diorama and a wax figure of Mrs. Claus in her chair with her candy cane knitting needles rocks back and forth, and it occurs to you just what you're looking at: Santa's Workshop. There can be no mistaking it. Even in the middle of the night, you know exactly where you are.
Don't you?
The light grows, illuminating the entire storefront and spilling out onto the street. You can see everything now. The little elf figure hammering at his workbench, the one next to him sawing at a board of wood, the two balancing on a seesaw as the toy train circles beneath them. Once you take notice of it, it's impossible to look away. The light pulls you in, glowing brighter yet turning darker. Slowly, it turns from angelic, warm gold to blood red.
As strange as this is, this is the best you've felt all week. A tipsy smile at your lips, you watch the light shift into a pretty shade of red as the snow continues to fall around you. In an abstract way, you know this isn't really where you're supposed to be, but it feels so good anyway. Your home (and not your home in Shadyside, your real home), all the bad stuff that worries you and stresses you out—it all dissolves into sugar.
Dreamily, you stare off into space as the song inside the store begins to warp and deepen. Gosh, you can't remember the last time you've felt this nice. You can't remember much of anything at all, like what you were doing earlier today or how you got here to begin with.
But you do know that it's Christmas. And if there's one place everyone should celebrate Christmas in, it's Santa Rosita. Your home.
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UP ON THE HOUSETOP
CW: death and decay, claustrophobia

It's true what they say about wintertime being the cruelest time. Even in Santa Rosita, that sentiment holds true in spite of the otherwise celebratory and comfy atmosphere throughout town. For every sweet smell trickling out of your and your neighbors' houses, a sharp and cold burst of wind follows. The weather is mostly manageable during the daytime hours, but at night it's a different story. The wind can be ferocious, whistling through the naked trees with enough force to send them swaying. If the cold doesn't keep you awake, the sound of branches tapping against your windows will.
When you wake up in the morning, you'll find a new friend waiting for you outside. Sitting in the front of your yard, positioned between the mailbox and the driveway, is a snowman. Its fingers are thin and twiggy, and the branches they're connected to are arched and spread like wings stripped to the bone. Compared to all the other snowmen you've likely passed by throughout Shadyside, there's nothing particularly unique about it, save for its lumpy build and featureless face.
The snowman is still there by the time you return from school or class. This time, however, it's invited another friend: another identical snowman, this one in a different spot in the yard.
So it goes for the next several days. Every time you enter your house or go to sleep, a new snowman is waiting for you in your yard. Their placement has no rhyme or reason: sometimes you'll find one in the back of the yard, other times in a corner off to the side. Sometimes they'll be spread out. Other times—usually when you turn around or go back inside the house—they'll be clustered together in a group, facing the front window.
Eventually, there gets to be so many of them that it becomes difficult to leave the house. Inevitably, whether it be blocking your car, the driveway, or even your front door, you'll wind up dismantling one sooner or later. And when you do, you'll find more than just snow spilling out onto your feet.
Staring back at you, whether from behind the layers of snow you've knocked off the head or up from the ground, is a Robbie, still dressed in their red and green elf uniform from the Christmas village. His—or her—glassy eyes are fixed in a thousand yard stare, mouth stretched in a grinning rictus on their blue face. Within each snowman is a similar one, all of them dressed the same, all of them very much dead, all of them smiling the same mindless smiles they had when they were alive.
With any luck, you’ll wind up taking the snowmen apart by hand instead of finding out the hard way by running one over with your car.
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RUN, RUDOLPH, RUN
CW: animal death and dismemberment, violence, death and decay, non-human cannibalism

Another shows up the next day. And the next. And there’s not always enough snow to fully cover the carcasses that litter the village and its outskirts. Clustered by the reindeer racing courses children clapped and cheered for are what's left of the reindeer. They've been hunted, but not with knives or bows or guns. Chunks of flesh have been ripped off their bones and ribs are cracked where massive force has been applied, eyes white and milky—if they haven’t been plucked out. Some of the beasts are still alive and huddling in their stables, balking when the doors are open or bolting, as fast as their long strides can take them, out toward the Old Growth. Careful you don’t get in their way!
By the 18th, none of the reindeer are alive inside the stables. There aren’t enough corpses to account for the whole herd you’d seen before (bored and spoiled, wreaths around their necks). But if you follow the sounds of crunching, the wet and sticky humidity of breath, and the smell that rises up and above the dung and rot of desiccated corpses—
There, hunched over a kill, is a thing with just as many bones visible as mangy flesh upon its back. And when its head turns round, there are fangs in its mouth and claws on five-fingered paws, and both are stained deep scarlet—there are antlers bleached as white as snow—and its red eyes are socket-deep, dilated, and suddenly fixed on you.
Let’s hope you can run on ice and snow!
The creatures are looking for more food now that the reindeer have all been hunted down. Lingering in the village, slow and sluggish on all fours unless they rise to two broad feet and sniff the air, they are massive beasts. Not men, not deer, not Christmas cheer, that’s for darn sure. Unless a human happens by, they will stay in their place—the village, far from town square and blizzard-covered Main Street. If they catch sight of someone, they will pursue them with surprising speed to the ends of the earth-—or at least right up to your front door or until you manage to lose them. They’ll search long and hard, sniffing with their skeletal snouts on hand and far-too-human knee, before giving up and heading back toward their village home. Unless someone else crosses paths with them, that is.
The lights on homes and fires burning in hearths seem to deter them... unlike silver, salt, or sharpened knives (unless they are made of iron or steel), which just bring the deer rearing up onto their back legs to tower up and over you, antlers blotting out the wintry sun, ribs bulging beneath their thin and ripping skin. The cold doesn’t bother them despite their hunger—aren’t reindeer native to the arctic? Perhaps that explains why ice has no effect and they appear from the blizzard as if it was as harmless as a hearty breeze. All the speech you ever can hear is the hunting cry they make—the full body bellow of a thing in pain and rage and determined to survive at your expense.
Unless you can outrun them.
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HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS
At midnight, December 25th, everything stops.
Peek out your window and there is only peaceful, picture-perfect snow. No blizzards and no blackouts. No stalking deer, no bodies and no snowmen, save the ones that the Anderson children put up on Midwich Street. The Christmas village is gone—no teleporting doors, no lights, no reindeer (at least that you can see or find)—as if it had never been there at all. Only lightly falling snow and cars in the driveway, families at home just as they ought to be—eating cookies, drinking milk, opening the presents spilling out from under the tree. Santa has been generous this year!
And don’t think he’s forgotten you, either!
For those of you who wrote Santa a letter, a box will be waiting on your front doorstep. Try as you might, you can’t find any footprints in the snow, and you certainly didn’t hear any knock on the door or ringing of the bell. It’s addressed specifically for you, along with a little note written in someone’s (very best attempt at) cursive:
I’m sorry if you got hurt
Please don’t be mad
Merry Christmas
P.S. I tried my best to get you what you asked for

Peek out your window and there is only peaceful, picture-perfect snow. No blizzards and no blackouts. No stalking deer, no bodies and no snowmen, save the ones that the Anderson children put up on Midwich Street. The Christmas village is gone—no teleporting doors, no lights, no reindeer (at least that you can see or find)—as if it had never been there at all. Only lightly falling snow and cars in the driveway, families at home just as they ought to be—eating cookies, drinking milk, opening the presents spilling out from under the tree. Santa has been generous this year!
And don’t think he’s forgotten you, either!
For those of you who wrote Santa a letter, a box will be waiting on your front doorstep. Try as you might, you can’t find any footprints in the snow, and you certainly didn’t hear any knock on the door or ringing of the bell. It’s addressed specifically for you, along with a little note written in someone’s (very best attempt at) cursive:
Please don’t be mad
Merry Christmas
P.S. I tried my best to get you what you asked for

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OOC INFO
Happy holidays and welcome to part two of our December event! As always, feel free to top-level for this event, tag around, or utilize our network and log communities for your snowy-spooky posts.
As with part one of the event, mod-controlled NPCs will not be available for this event. You are, however, free to use the Santa Rosita Police Department and Robbies as player-controlled NPCs if you feel they are appropriate for your threads. Need more information? Direct your attention over to our NPC page for the most up-to-date info on your fellow townspeople.
Regular teleporting to the village still happens; the lake is now just an added destination. If you still would like your character to appear in the village but wish to avoid the lake prompt, doors still will randomly teleport you to the village as they did in the first half of the month. Each prompt with peril only can result in death to your character if that is how you would prefer the thread to go. Remember: just because a monster is chasing you or you teleport into the lake doesn’t mean there isn’t a place around for them to hide and get warm! For this event we don’t want people to feel forced to kill their characters. Consider built-in survival options as a gift from mods to players this time... except for the monster in the lake.
Well, we wouldn't say monster, but you didn't think you were the only ones in town with a home, did you?
Whatever's living in the lake can be staggered and caught off-guard, so fighting back against it if it catches you is possible—possible, but not a good idea. You'll never get a thorough enough look to even know what it is you're fighting.
Characters who end up getting caught by it will only have one chance to fight it off long enough to escape and swim to safety. While you can technically stick around in the lake and attempt to search, you do so at your own peril. Staying for any longer than you have to or trying to seek whatever-it-is out will be a death sentence for your character. Please remember to report all deaths and crimes that would be worthy of Tranquilization on their appropriate page here.
Any questions can go in our FAQ thread below. Try to check and see if your question has already been answered on the plotting thread first here.
As with part one of the event, mod-controlled NPCs will not be available for this event. You are, however, free to use the Santa Rosita Police Department and Robbies as player-controlled NPCs if you feel they are appropriate for your threads. Need more information? Direct your attention over to our NPC page for the most up-to-date info on your fellow townspeople.
Regular teleporting to the village still happens; the lake is now just an added destination. If you still would like your character to appear in the village but wish to avoid the lake prompt, doors still will randomly teleport you to the village as they did in the first half of the month. Each prompt with peril only can result in death to your character if that is how you would prefer the thread to go. Remember: just because a monster is chasing you or you teleport into the lake doesn’t mean there isn’t a place around for them to hide and get warm! For this event we don’t want people to feel forced to kill their characters. Consider built-in survival options as a gift from mods to players this time... except for the monster in the lake.
Well, we wouldn't say monster, but you didn't think you were the only ones in town with a home, did you?
Whatever's living in the lake can be staggered and caught off-guard, so fighting back against it if it catches you is possible—possible, but not a good idea. You'll never get a thorough enough look to even know what it is you're fighting.
Characters who end up getting caught by it will only have one chance to fight it off long enough to escape and swim to safety. While you can technically stick around in the lake and attempt to search, you do so at your own peril. Staying for any longer than you have to or trying to seek whatever-it-is out will be a death sentence for your character. Please remember to report all deaths and crimes that would be worthy of Tranquilization on their appropriate page here.
Any questions can go in our FAQ thread below. Try to check and see if your question has already been answered on the plotting thread first here.
no subject
[Rapunzel hadn't minded the portals. Not at first. They were mildly inconvenient when you were trying to go about your day cleaning or exploring, but the Christmas Village had so much charm that it was hard for her to be annoyed. So even with the snow coming down hard and the blast of cold wind biting at her cheeks as she opens the pantry door in her home, Rapunzel doesn't gripe or groan - after all, she's been teleported to the village so much this past week that she knows the way back "home" easily enough now! Just a step through the door and then-
And then everything flips and turns, and that biting at her cheeks turns into full-blown knives digging into her skin as she's dumped into the frigid waters of the lake. Rapunzel tries to let out a startled yelp, but the only thing that comes out of her mouth is a burst of bubbles; it's then that she truly begins to panic, trying not to choke as her lungs scream for the precious air she wasted.
It's dark. So dark. Dark and cold and suffocating in a way that's different from just being submerged in water. It's like the dark is pressing in on her, the chill seeping into her very bones and dragging her down, down... no. No!!! Not down - she can't let herself sink, she can't let herself die here, after everything that's happened!! Just when she's finally found peace in her life...!
Rapunzel lets out another pained exhale, but she watches this time. The good thing about living in a kingdom with so many waterways is that you learn all sorts of things fast. Like how to tell which way is up in water - just follow the bubbles. So with a strong kick Rapunzel rises, following the path of the bubbles up and up until-
Thunk.
No. no no no!! The ice!]
--!!!!!!!
[And that's when Rapunzel loses that last thread of calm. Despite the fast-spreading numbing feeling in her limbs, she bangs her hands frantically against the sheet of ice above her, yelling and not caring at all about her lungs screaming for air. She's trying to make as much noise and movement as possible, trying to fight off that fuzziness at the edge of her vision...]
[B; Up on the Housetop]
[Rapunzel didn't like being cooped up for long. Maybe it's just a side-effect of her forced isolation for the first eighteen years of her life, or maybe it's just the idea that she could be doing so much when not confined to one room. Either way, she doesn't last very long on the bedrest Cassandra assigned her to after her unfortunate trip into the lake. Despite the way her body shakes and her nose runs, Rapunzel bundles herself up tight against the cold and heads out into the storm.
The first places she stops to are the ones clearly without power. For them, she has an armful of wood, which she does her best to keep clear of snow as she trudges up and down the block to see who needs help. Other times she'll be visiting with a few thermoses of soup; not really enough to last more than a night, but she's managed to keep them warm. It'll help fight off the cold till the morning.
Food, blankets... anything that can help any of the other trapped residents, Rapunzel will find a way to hand out. The only time she really pauses in her work is when she stops by a house with a snowman. Something about them seem a little.... off. She's not sure how to put her finger on it...]
Wow... people must be really dedicated to build these when the weather is so harsh, huh?
[C; Wildcard]
[Got an idea that doesn't fit into the prompt? Drop it here! Additionally, if you'd like to hash something out first, feel free to hit me up over at
B
[Kipo's glaring at the snowmen - while shivering and wrapping her arms around herself.]
no subject
I dunno, I think they look pretty creative!
[Always gotta look on the bright side, this one does.]
But it's so cold out. And with the power going in and out... as fun as it is, I think people should really focus on staying inside, not building snowmen.
no subject
Though have you seen the people around here? I don't know if a little cold would stop them from doing anything that's not Christmas-related.
no subject
[She says, as if she wasn't shivering moments ago. But there's still a spark in her eyes, and she shifts a little to get a better grip on the supplies she's carrying.]
I know they're a little... strange... but it's nice to have spirit like that. Right?
( prompt b. )
he tugs down the frankly ludicrous amount of scarves he's wearing so he can speak more clearly. it allows her to see his expression, one of confusion and irritation as he nods in the direction of the snowman. ]
Doubly weird since I've been wondering who made that snowman since it first popped up, honestly. [ he explains why that's the case soon enough: ] My wife and I sure as hell didn't make it. I've been busy and she's been...
[ ... strange. yeah. he's going to call it 'strange' to be polite. ]
GOD PLEASE FORGIVE HOW CRUSTY THIS REPLY IS
[Honestly, if the conditions weren't absolutely miserable, Rapunzel would probably be doing just that. Help people with decorations, maybe leave a few strings of lights or a wreath or two out on other houses... just spread a little cheer around the neighborhood, when they kind of need it, after waking up in this strange town.]
But they got them all done so quick, and I haven't seen a single glimpse of who could've done it... [She lets out a "hm" as she approaches one of the snowmen, tracing the coal smile with one gloved hand.] Maybe it's some kind of message from the people who were here before us.
this is fresh as bakery opening in the early morning hours excuse u
Huh. Think there could be a clue in the snowmen in something? Dig around and find something we could use? [ and... there are simply more snowmen are being built because it was out of passive-aggressiveness on the clue giver's side of things? because they saw no one was knocking down their perfectly innocent-looking snowmen in an attempt to see if they can find anything inside them?
a strange leap in logic, sure, but this is a strange situation for a lot of them.
who knows? it could actually be the truth so part two in the act of 'making a suggestion that's going to haunt him for the rest of his days while here' is coming: ] Why not dig around? See what's in the head? The most we'll do is ruin a snowman but there are dozens of them at this point.
no subject
[Well it certainly can't hurt to take a look, can it? The worst thing that could happen (or so she thinks) is that they get a bit colder and wetter from digging through the packed-in snow.]
I guess we could give it a try. What do you think would be hidden inside?
no subject
I mean- There needs to be a reason why they keep making these things. Right? [ he gestures to the growing collection of snowmen, knowing damn well that there used to be far less of them the previous morning. ] If it's only for giggles, you'd they would think up the ante by...
I don't know. Making snow animals? Two-headed snowmen? [ he shrugs and moves closer to the snowman, eyeing it critically. ] At the very least clearing them out will be a plus. It's getting to become a real hazard for whoever is throwing the newspapers during the morning.
You get that snowman over there? I'll tackle this one.
C, hello neighbor, time to meet your bestie's Robbie husband!
[After all, it's only a matter of time before Cassandra, Diana, and Rapunzel end up having a Tupperware party in his living room!]
[So Erwin wades through the snow, a picnic basket tucked firmly under his arm, to Rapunzel's house. He accidentally hits a snowman with his hip on the way up the walk, and shakes his head when some snow falls off it and reveals a frozen, grasping hand. That won't do, he'll have to fix that later. But first, it's time to meet the neighbors!]
[Erwin raps firmly on the door, completely unaware that his version of knocking sounds more like someone frantically pounding on the lid of their own coffin.]
Hello! Ms Rapunzel!
hello neighbor i am SO sorry this is so late
In a flurry of motion she throws back the blanket she'd wrapped herself in and jumps off the couch, running over to the door and nearly smacking herself with it in her hurry to open it.]
What's wrong??? Is everything- oh! [Oh, okay! Not an emergency! ....... Right?] You're... Erwin, right? Are you all right?
[She's run into him in passing a few times when she's come to visit Cass, and he seemed so... stoic. So this sure is odd!]
it's never too late to be neighborly!
That's right, Ms Rapunzel! I'm Erwin, Cassandra's husband! I brought you some Christmas cheer!
[He lifts the picnic basket a little so she can see it.]
May I come in?
no subject
Still. Odd or not, Rapunzel's not going to just leave a man out in the cold. So she steps back with a smile, motioning inside.]
Of course!
[Even with the power outages, the house is.. decently warm when Erwin enters. After all, Rapunzel's from a time before indoor electric heating, so she knows well enough how to keep a fire stoked.]
With everything going on, I was worried everyone would ignore the holidays. Which is... understandable, yeah. But it'd be nice to take your mind off of the bad at least for a little while, right?
no subject
[Erwin bustles in, shedding snow in his wake. It's not that far between the two houses, but he took the scenic route and has been out in the snow for a long, long time. The house feels almost oppressively hot, and he starts stripping out of his layers almost immediately.]
I agree completely. We can't let a little snow squash our holiday spirit!
[When he takes his coat off and looks around for a coat rack to hang it on, Erwin reveals that his hand and sweater sleeve are both dripping with gore.]
no subject
Despite being a once extremely sheltered young lady, blood isn't a completely alien concept to Rapunzel; she held Eugene in her arms as he bled out from a stab wound in his back. She witnessed Cass's hand burning and decaying to a charred, skeletal husk. She's by no means completely used to the sign of blood or serious injury, and a look of shock and utter horror crosses her face, but it doesn't scare her off or send her into a retching fit. In fact, when she sees the mess, Rapunzel rushes forward, reaching out to his bloodied hand.]
Wh-What happened?! Are you okay?!
[Even if he doesn't let her touch him, Rapunzel still does her best to examine the mess. Like... to at least see if she can tell the blood is his or not.]
no subject
[Erwin lifts his hand and examines it, his eyebrows rising like he's surprised at the sight. He blinks a few times, flexing his fingers, then lets loose with a deep belly laugh.]
It's not mine.
[He cheerfully hands Rapunzel his coat.]
The reindeer out there are so demanding, don't you think? Some of them need some firm guidance to know how to behave.
A
She didn't even mean to end up at the lake, where people would skate around, enjoying the friendly winter weather. This was anything but friendly.
And then she notices the shape beneath the surface of the ice. A shadow, at first. But curiosity draws her closer, inching over the ice, until she spots-]
Raps? Rapunzel!
[No. No, no, no. How? Why? Doesn't matter. Caution is thrown to the wind and Cassandra is on her knees, staring through the surface at her princess, screaming and thrashing against the solid ice. Not a thought passes through Cassandra's mind before her fist is balled up and she throws a punch into the icy surface of the lake.
It's cold. She feels a knuckle split. She does it again. And again. Again. Right on the spot above Raps. Precise, repeated. All to maximize the chance of making a mark in the ice.
And low and behold, cracks form, that get bigger. Slowly, surely, the ice begins to break.]
no subject
No. No. She can't rest. That's the last thing you're supposed to do when you're hurt - rest means giving in, and Rapunzel can't let herself give in now, so far from home! So when there's a muffled crack above her and a few chunks of ice crack away, the princess surges forward, trying to at least fit her mouth and nose past the surface of the lake.]
H-H-Help....
[It's barely a shuddering wheeze, but it's a sign of life. As is the shaking, pained breath she takes right after, finally filling her lungs with much-needed oxygen.]
no subject
She can't rest. No stopping. Something could have crept up on Cass in the moment and she wouldn't have cared - Rapunzel's safety took priority.
On her hands and knees, Cassandra throws fist after fist against the icy surface. The sting in her hands lessened by the rush as the ice begins to chip and break away, until... Just a chip and a crack more. And finally, a hole opens overtop the submerged princess, rapidly growing amidst obliterated ice chunks.]
Hold on, Raps! I'll get you out!