(no subject)
Characters: Siegfried and anyone who would care to join him
Location: The Plaza, the park... Perhaps various other places generally around the city? He's not exactly staying still.
Time: Afternoon, perhaps a bit into the evening
Style: Anything works~
Status: Open
[For all his shivering and the water still dripping from his finery, the prince stands nobly straight as he takes in the strangeness before him. His hair is puffed under his crown from a brief attempt at drying it, but he was hardly in a state to worry about presentability. He finds his utter lack of any idea where he was to be considerably more pressing. He stares at the device in his hand, fiddling with it for a moment, but the screen merely flickers before reflecting his deepening frown, and a glimmer of gold from the tiny fairy hovering just over his shoulder. He only waves it away, or as far away as it seems willing to go; fairies are not so odd to him, after all. It was the rest of the place that worried him.
This is not his kingdom. That much had been immediately clear, before he had even fully stirred from the puddle of water that had gathered below him. He has been taken from his home again- and he will find the force responsible to know why he is here, as well as how he can be returned at once. If there is some threat to this kingdom because of this, he would know of it. Whatever the matter might be, he would see it swiftly ended.
Wherever this place may be, it will not hold me...
He swishes away, a spectacle of dampened grace, but his bearing does not suffer for it. His uneasiness is persistent, but he feels no need to show that, and his pride will not allow it. As a prince in a strange land, he must appear fittingly strong, whatever anxiety he holds. His searching gaze is poor at concealing his concerns, however, as is the stiff line of his mouth. The idea of calling his sword comes to him; though he has seen no reason to wield it, he doesn't doubt that one will come. He is supposed to have been free of stories, but what else could this be? If he is not to be granted such fortune, he will have to fight again to make it for himself.
He does not think on whether or not he likes the idea of needing to battle once more, if it comes to that, but it had been almost stranger to be without such things. Perhaps more pleasant, but... But he isn't in a position to pay that any mind. Even his own soft sigh cannot change the facts.
He has a new task.]
Location: The Plaza, the park... Perhaps various other places generally around the city? He's not exactly staying still.
Time: Afternoon, perhaps a bit into the evening
Style: Anything works~
Status: Open
[For all his shivering and the water still dripping from his finery, the prince stands nobly straight as he takes in the strangeness before him. His hair is puffed under his crown from a brief attempt at drying it, but he was hardly in a state to worry about presentability. He finds his utter lack of any idea where he was to be considerably more pressing. He stares at the device in his hand, fiddling with it for a moment, but the screen merely flickers before reflecting his deepening frown, and a glimmer of gold from the tiny fairy hovering just over his shoulder. He only waves it away, or as far away as it seems willing to go; fairies are not so odd to him, after all. It was the rest of the place that worried him.
This is not his kingdom. That much had been immediately clear, before he had even fully stirred from the puddle of water that had gathered below him. He has been taken from his home again- and he will find the force responsible to know why he is here, as well as how he can be returned at once. If there is some threat to this kingdom because of this, he would know of it. Whatever the matter might be, he would see it swiftly ended.
Wherever this place may be, it will not hold me...
He swishes away, a spectacle of dampened grace, but his bearing does not suffer for it. His uneasiness is persistent, but he feels no need to show that, and his pride will not allow it. As a prince in a strange land, he must appear fittingly strong, whatever anxiety he holds. His searching gaze is poor at concealing his concerns, however, as is the stiff line of his mouth. The idea of calling his sword comes to him; though he has seen no reason to wield it, he doesn't doubt that one will come. He is supposed to have been free of stories, but what else could this be? If he is not to be granted such fortune, he will have to fight again to make it for himself.
He does not think on whether or not he likes the idea of needing to battle once more, if it comes to that, but it had been almost stranger to be without such things. Perhaps more pleasant, but... But he isn't in a position to pay that any mind. Even his own soft sigh cannot change the facts.
He has a new task.]