Elsa had woken up today knowing straightaway that her powers appeared to have gone into some sort of... remission or something. There was no frost in her bedsheets, there was no need for her usual 'conceal, don't feel,' mantra. And, in a fit of daring, she'd left her gloves on her nightstand before making her way out into the common room. If it was safe to be social today, she was going to make the most of it.
By some miracle, she'd figured out how to work the kettle (the fact that the plug looked about the right size to fit into the outlet had been a good hint), and she'd made herself some tea. She hadn't quite worked her way up to the point of turning on the television yet, but she had found a ball of yarn and a crochet hook, and while she'd never really tried crochet before, she seemed to be a good way along in making the first of a pair of
long lace gloves. It was remarkable what a person could do with their hands when they weren't wearing thick gloves over them all of the time, apparently.
As she crocheted, she hummed a little to herself. Today was shaping up to be a pleasant day, and she'd worry about what was going on with her powers later.
[OOC: That moment when two people post the same common room at the same time. Changed to afternoon, and open!]