Post by Marugou Madoka on Dec 18, 2017 18:00:21 GMT -5
In hindsight, merely strolling outside in her usual attire might not have been one of her smartest idea.
In her defense though, Madoka seeked out immediate distraction after the trial, so she didn't even consider to get dressed appropriately for the weather conditions outside. Still, she quietly endured the cold that bit into her skin and devoted herself fully to her investigations. Unlike last time, where she failed to uncover the secret room, she was determined to not overlook anything again. It was important to be aware of everything that they could access - to keep the possibility of another murder low as much as she could.
(For that matter, Madoka knew that she had to assemble her classmates to discuss their plans from now on.)
However, this thought was pushed aside as she got off the way that led to the lodge and strolled into what was described as Yukigassen Field instead. The snow crunched loudly underneath her shoes - that were definitely not suited for this kind of environment -, cushioning her steps as she let her gaze wander around. Despite how wet and cold her feet felt, her attention had been elsewhere already. This sight was not a rarity, but for the girl personally, it felt nostalgic. She hadn't have a genuine snowball fight since years.
(She still vividly remembers the last time it happened--)
Melancholy filled her eyes, as the detective absentmindedly bend down to pick up some snow into her hands (cold, so cold) and form a ball out of it. Quite honestly, Madoka didn't even know why she was doing it when there was no one around that she could have a snowball fight with - even less so with no gloves on or anything that could actually keep her warm.
Despite all of this, Madoka swung her arm back, then threw her snowball into the distance - where upon landing, it became one with the pure whiteness around her. The detective was sure that once she'd look away, she wouldn't be able to tell where it was anymore. It would seem like as if the snowball never existed - fading away with given time.
The detective stood up, simply staring at the spot where her snowball landed. After a few moments, she recalled a familiar face-- a familiar voice--
And abruptly, Madoka stretched out her arms as far as she could, before letting herself fall down backwards, where she unceremonically landed on the ground. Thankfully, the snow was able to cushion her fall somewhat, but even though her back stung a little, she didn't pay it any mind. Instead, she started to make a snow angel, not letting the cold bother her too much (even though it crept into her body, clawing at her with its harsh grasp).
When her arms and legs became more numb, Madoka stopped her movements and simply laid there, staring up at the blue sky, observing how her breath turned visible in the air. It was a strange sensation - she felt like as if she was suddenly incredibly aware of her immediate surroundings and herself. Every breath felt deep, every movement felt large, every noise sounded so loud.
Despite the risk of catching a cold or worse, Madoka didn't want to move from her spot.
For some reason, she just felt so alive at the moment.
In her defense though, Madoka seeked out immediate distraction after the trial, so she didn't even consider to get dressed appropriately for the weather conditions outside. Still, she quietly endured the cold that bit into her skin and devoted herself fully to her investigations. Unlike last time, where she failed to uncover the secret room, she was determined to not overlook anything again. It was important to be aware of everything that they could access - to keep the possibility of another murder low as much as she could.
(For that matter, Madoka knew that she had to assemble her classmates to discuss their plans from now on.)
However, this thought was pushed aside as she got off the way that led to the lodge and strolled into what was described as Yukigassen Field instead. The snow crunched loudly underneath her shoes - that were definitely not suited for this kind of environment -, cushioning her steps as she let her gaze wander around. Despite how wet and cold her feet felt, her attention had been elsewhere already. This sight was not a rarity, but for the girl personally, it felt nostalgic. She hadn't have a genuine snowball fight since years.
(She still vividly remembers the last time it happened--)
Melancholy filled her eyes, as the detective absentmindedly bend down to pick up some snow into her hands (cold, so cold) and form a ball out of it. Quite honestly, Madoka didn't even know why she was doing it when there was no one around that she could have a snowball fight with - even less so with no gloves on or anything that could actually keep her warm.
Despite all of this, Madoka swung her arm back, then threw her snowball into the distance - where upon landing, it became one with the pure whiteness around her. The detective was sure that once she'd look away, she wouldn't be able to tell where it was anymore. It would seem like as if the snowball never existed - fading away with given time.
The detective stood up, simply staring at the spot where her snowball landed. After a few moments, she recalled a familiar face-- a familiar voice--
And abruptly, Madoka stretched out her arms as far as she could, before letting herself fall down backwards, where she unceremonically landed on the ground. Thankfully, the snow was able to cushion her fall somewhat, but even though her back stung a little, she didn't pay it any mind. Instead, she started to make a snow angel, not letting the cold bother her too much (even though it crept into her body, clawing at her with its harsh grasp).
When her arms and legs became more numb, Madoka stopped her movements and simply laid there, staring up at the blue sky, observing how her breath turned visible in the air. It was a strange sensation - she felt like as if she was suddenly incredibly aware of her immediate surroundings and herself. Every breath felt deep, every movement felt large, every noise sounded so loud.
Despite the risk of catching a cold or worse, Madoka didn't want to move from her spot.
For some reason, she just felt so alive at the moment.