Are you worth your weight in gold? [active]

[bestwhendaft]

Character(s): Jack! Open to anyone~
Content: Jack arrives in a city with a name that means Passion. How can he pass that up?
Setting: Vanaheim gate area
Time: Afternoon, week 35
Warnings: None for now.

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[vorpalrising]

Alice sighed as she walked through the city. The snow, pure and clean, had been invigorating, at first, but that wasn't the case any longer. In fact, she was getting quite tired of it all and wished it would stop. But how could it snow inside of a domed city? Ah, now that was the question. Perhaps a snowman really had gotten a cold.

Alice's musings were interrupted by the sight of a very strange and apparently drunk man falling into the snow. She quirked an eyebrow, her lips curving up slightly (though she wasn't quite certain she should really be amused). She made no move to help him, at least for now, merely crossing her arms to see whether he would get up again.

[bestwhendaft]

"BuhggnrBuhggnrBuhggnr," his voice came from the snow, muffled. He wasn't getting back up. At least, not right away. There was some side-to-side flailing of legs, trying to get the snow off him and a snow-angel-making similar method, but it got him nowhere. Finally, he pushes his upper body out, flakes still clinging to his dreadlocks and beard.

He does not look to be happy one bit. "Passion" was quickly losing its charm. He couldn't see Alice from where he was, but he did get a better view of the city. A very white city.

"Bugger," he says again, now unmuffled. He doesn't move from that position, no matter how cold he is. Getting up doesn't do him any good if he can't find a place to move and get warm again.

[vorpalrising]

From what Alice could see, Jack simply looked like another rogue. A rather eccentric rogue, to be certain, but one nevertheless. Still, Alice was bored and annoyed with the Hatter again, so she decided to take a chance and step closer, her boots crunching against the snow. If worst came to worst - which she somehow doubted it would - she did always have her knife.

Rocking back and fourth on her heels, Alice addressed the strange man. "It's not usually like this, from what I've seen and heard," she offered, "but something seems to have gone wrong for the moment." It had been a machine, hadn't it? But Alice was hardly a factory worker and so hadn't the faintest idea of what to do.

[bestwhendaft]

"Eccentric" was the minimalistic approach to Jack. There wasn't really a good word to describe Jack - at least, he had yet to find one that others agreed on (his choices: genius, captain, genius captain).

He turns his head to look at the girl and raises a brow. "No stricken goddesses havin' a fit over previous lovers comin' back to wrong them, I hope?" Because Calypso sure could throw weather out of whack, so who's to say there wasn't a more frigid beau that could do the same here.

Jack finally stands again with a bit of a wobble and a sway, pausing with his hands in the air before brushing the snow off him.

[vorpalrising]

Where in the world had this odd man come from? Either he was from some strange world (although that was nothing unusual here) or he was as mad as Alice was. It could always be both, as well. "I don't think so," came the slightly amused reply, Alice idly brushing snow off her gloves. "I heard it was something about a weather system, whatever that means." For all that Alice preferred not to speak too much over the journals, she did at least pay attention.

She watched as Jack regained his balance, wondering if perhaps he was drunk. Well, it wasn't as though she wasn't used to dealing with drunks in the slums of London. She could handle herself.