sixthiterationlogs | (OTA) A not so warm welcome

WHO: Seifer Almasy
WHERE: South Village Park fountain; Around town
WHEN: December 7th - 8thish
OPEN TO: Anyone
WARNINGS: Swearing. Usually lots of swearing.

Fountain Arrival:

One good thing about growing up near the ocean your entire life was that it's very uncommon to not know how to swim. The downside being the water was never this cold. It felt like a dream, no, worse, it felt like clawing through Time Compression all over again as he breached the darkness into blinding daylight with gasping breaths. The shock of icy air was in many ways worse than the water, chilling him straight to the core as he flopped gracelessly in a sopping pile on the ground, coughing water out of his lungs. Hyne, what a terrible way to wake up.

After spending a few moments laying on the ground spluttering water out of his lungs and wondering what his life had come to Seifer finally pushed himself up, shivering. Miserable. It was cold, he didn't know where he was, and he had no idea who he'd pissed off this time. Whoever it was he must have really done it to find himself tossed, presumably drunk, into a fountain in the middle of winter. Wait.

"...When the hell did it turn winter?" He glanced down at himself then, finally realizing that his clothing didn't feel right. "And why the hell am I dressed like this?" He looked like a mental patient. Did he have a psychotic break? If so, who the hell throws mental patients in fountains? Even giant assholes like Seifer. Not that he could blame them, but still! That's just screwed up. With no one immediately around to hear him talking to himself, he presumed, Seifer decided to shuffle off toward the nearest building he could find. Maybe someone would take mercy on him and give him a towel before he froze to death.

Out and about the town:

This place had a serious rodent problem. He'd never been anywhere with mice just running around out in the open like it was nothing. They could really use some of Timber's cats here, or a truckload of traps. So far in his wanderings Seifer had managed to dodge stepping on any of the bold little creatures though it was quickly becoming increasingly hazardous to explore. Everywhere he went was a minefield of mice darting around, chewing on things, skittering right at him as though he weren't large enough to step on them and make them into tiny mice pancakes. Although, something was weird, anywhere the mice went was covered in thick ice. Which didn't make much sense to him at all, were they that hungry they were trying to eat ice? Or was he missing something?

Wait, no, crazy, of course. Just one big hallucination that was the obvious answer to all of this. He never expected he'd go this crazy, and yet the evidence couldn't be denied. One such piece of evidence was a small evergreen shrub of some kind he'd just witnessed a mouse go skittering out from beneath that was now a very intricate ice sculpture. Idly he meandered over to tug at one of the frozen over branches in wonder. "Guess I have a vivid imagination." He mumbled to himself, now more certain than ever that he was just lost in his own delusion. Probably meandering down the street somewhere screaming at himself. Or locked up in an institution.

(OTA) A not so warm welcome

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