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Aug. 4th, 2017 02:04 amAt seventeen years old, Weiss Schnee has finally taken a stand. She has let her voice be heard; she has seized control of her life. She has stuffed her selected belongings into a single white suitcase, stepped onto the first train to enter the platform, and rode it as far as it would take her.
It felt, at the time, like a triumph. The ultimate act of independence after a lifetime in a cage. But that was seven hours ago now, and as the sun sets over the unknown city and the nighttime chill creeps in, Weiss is left to grapple with the fact that she did not think this all the way through.
Like, at all.
She has no clue where she is. She has nowhere to go. She passed a couple hours in some dingy cafe along the road until its closing rolled around, not before the barista knocked a lukewarm cup of coffee onto her impeccable white skirt. She spent the hour after that wandering around town with no sight of a laundromat or a hotel, her phone's GPS signal got mixed up and ended up leading her into a dentist's office, and now she's huddled on a bunch, watching the lights within the stores dim one by one and the lampposts around them flicker to life. Seven hours she's been gone, and already her father's cut off her credit cards -- all three! -- and though Weiss had the presence of mind to withdraw a fair amount of cash before setting out, she's realizing now it's barely enough to last her five days. Five days, and then what? She comes crawling back with her tail between her legs, pleading for her father's mercy?
Ugh. Talk about shameful. What would Winter say if she saw her now...?
Throwing her head back with a sigh, Weiss stares up at the heavens, mouthing a wordless plea for an answer. Some sort of miracle.
Instead, a fat drop of water splats her right between the eyes. She squints, wipes it off, and oh-- more drops. Oh, it's starting to rain. And of course it did not occur to her for a second that she should bring an umbrella.
She asks for a miracle, and the sky spits at her? Seriously?
"Seriously?" She gets to her feet, barking her indignation up at the clouds. A self-righteous anger so intense that for a moment, she's completely blinded to any befuddled passersby. "Seriously?!"
It felt, at the time, like a triumph. The ultimate act of independence after a lifetime in a cage. But that was seven hours ago now, and as the sun sets over the unknown city and the nighttime chill creeps in, Weiss is left to grapple with the fact that she did not think this all the way through.
Like, at all.
She has no clue where she is. She has nowhere to go. She passed a couple hours in some dingy cafe along the road until its closing rolled around, not before the barista knocked a lukewarm cup of coffee onto her impeccable white skirt. She spent the hour after that wandering around town with no sight of a laundromat or a hotel, her phone's GPS signal got mixed up and ended up leading her into a dentist's office, and now she's huddled on a bunch, watching the lights within the stores dim one by one and the lampposts around them flicker to life. Seven hours she's been gone, and already her father's cut off her credit cards -- all three! -- and though Weiss had the presence of mind to withdraw a fair amount of cash before setting out, she's realizing now it's barely enough to last her five days. Five days, and then what? She comes crawling back with her tail between her legs, pleading for her father's mercy?
Ugh. Talk about shameful. What would Winter say if she saw her now...?
Throwing her head back with a sigh, Weiss stares up at the heavens, mouthing a wordless plea for an answer. Some sort of miracle.
Instead, a fat drop of water splats her right between the eyes. She squints, wipes it off, and oh-- more drops. Oh, it's starting to rain. And of course it did not occur to her for a second that she should bring an umbrella.
She asks for a miracle, and the sky spits at her? Seriously?
"Seriously?" She gets to her feet, barking her indignation up at the clouds. A self-righteous anger so intense that for a moment, she's completely blinded to any befuddled passersby. "Seriously?!"
