(no subject)
There is no magic in this place, or so Miranda has been told.
There is no magic, yet she believes that this cannot be true. What sort of madman would say that such that strange wonders that exist on this place are not a form of magic? That people do not hold great magic within themselves.
No, she does believe that there is magic that rests between the shores of this island. It is simply no magic that she has seen before. One need only to look outside, observe that the world that had once been both hard and full of ice has melted into a soft greenness over the course of the night. The houses have changed, indeed the very mountains have shed their rough exteriors. If that is not a great sort of magic then she knows not what is.
Standing in the kitchen Miranda is observing yet another sort of magic. She has been told that it isn't magic at all, rather bits of her future and this place's past that help those who live there get by. She finds such explanations to be missing an appreciation of the marvel that are the things people can create. It is almost sad.
Pushing up the strap of her strange clothes as it slides down her shoulder, she laments that the box would not give her any thing else. She should like to feel less half-dressed as she makes her way through the swath of new people, but alas her wishes would seem to be denied. Moving about the room, she opens drawers and then closes them once more. Turning knobs and pressing buttons, she starts when the strange objects seem to come to life and must hasten to silence them once more.
"Oh goodness," she says frantically trying to shut something off that is making a frightful noise. It seems almost angry but she does not think that waking it could produce such an effect. Alas it does not seem to wish to be placated as the others were and a frown creases her forehead. "Oh mercy goodness."
Oh brave new world, that has such strange things in it.
[ooc: feel free to have caught her making a ruckus (the appliance that is on is up to you). all tags are welcome. st/lt, whatever. :D]
There is no magic, yet she believes that this cannot be true. What sort of madman would say that such that strange wonders that exist on this place are not a form of magic? That people do not hold great magic within themselves.
No, she does believe that there is magic that rests between the shores of this island. It is simply no magic that she has seen before. One need only to look outside, observe that the world that had once been both hard and full of ice has melted into a soft greenness over the course of the night. The houses have changed, indeed the very mountains have shed their rough exteriors. If that is not a great sort of magic then she knows not what is.
Standing in the kitchen Miranda is observing yet another sort of magic. She has been told that it isn't magic at all, rather bits of her future and this place's past that help those who live there get by. She finds such explanations to be missing an appreciation of the marvel that are the things people can create. It is almost sad.
Pushing up the strap of her strange clothes as it slides down her shoulder, she laments that the box would not give her any thing else. She should like to feel less half-dressed as she makes her way through the swath of new people, but alas her wishes would seem to be denied. Moving about the room, she opens drawers and then closes them once more. Turning knobs and pressing buttons, she starts when the strange objects seem to come to life and must hasten to silence them once more.
"Oh goodness," she says frantically trying to shut something off that is making a frightful noise. It seems almost angry but she does not think that waking it could produce such an effect. Alas it does not seem to wish to be placated as the others were and a frown creases her forehead. "Oh mercy goodness."
Oh brave new world, that has such strange things in it.
[ooc: feel free to have caught her making a ruckus (the appliance that is on is up to you). all tags are welcome. st/lt, whatever. :D]