Weeds on Doorframes? [Active/Closed]
Characters: Naminé, Roxas.
Setting: Grand Room/East Hallway
Time: Early Day 015
Summary: Naminé attempts to go to the kitchen to get something to eat and runs into a rather sticky situation. Luckily, someone else is there to help.
Warnings: Nothing with a chance of cute.
This was... a little bit awkward.
Just a little.
Naminé looked up at the bizzare little plant over her head, a touch perplexedly.
She hadn't quite had time to begin panicking yet. It was daytime, after all. Still very early, and, to be honest, it was such a lovely day that she... was having a little trouble being properly afraid. Back 'home', if it could have been called that, she never really had gotten the chance to be outside for long, and never on such a nice day as this. And this-- this-- what was it called? Snow? Something like that. It was beautiful. Sometimes she really had to curse her artistic instinct. It may have been freezing, and she may have been freezing, but she'd had no intention of staying curled up under the covers. This was a chance to do something, for once. So rarely did she have the opportunity, or the urge. Maybe it was something in the air.
Still, this was... quite troublesome. Something like this, during the day? Now that it was starting to sink in, it sent a chill up her spine -- no easy feat, when the whole of her was so cold in the first place. It always made things so difficult when things didn't go away in the daylight. It had been unwise to let her guard down so. Why hadn't she been paying attention?
She hadn't come this way before during the night, mostly because she'd been using the other path to get to the kitchen on the occasions it was required. She hadn't wanted to pass the gallery on the second floor -- not when the ghost with the broken neck might have been lurking there. He'd never caused her any trouble, but-- to be safe, she preferred not to go anywhere near ANY of the ghosts, 'friendly' or not.
Whatever had lead to it, there she was. Hestitantly, she tried again to step out of the doorway, but to no avail. Feeling a little bit of (not-?)panic begin to bubble up in her chest, she reached out to grip the doorframe with her weak, too weak hands and pulled with her too too weak arms and strained to move-- but in the end, her feet just would not move.