Snippet #2061594

Twelve feet of water was all that was allotted to Joshua, which made him fume with frustration. He enjoyed the water; felt at home in it, but with his background, they still just gave him twelve feet to move around in. Frost was soon coming out of his pores, as he leaped into the pool; his clothing still on, as he sank to the bottom. He began to make pushing and pulling motions, until the water began to surge away from him. Sitting cross-legged, his glare turned the water nearest him into ice, until there was a small wall, blocking him from the rest. The water that soaked skin and hair, had evaporated into a mist, and drifted towards the mass of water, when foot steps were heard above. Turning slowly, he caught the words, "Sir, your books are in the library, and there seems to be a large gathering happening there."

"Thou canst be serious?" He called up, but to no avail. The voice was gone, and all he wished for was some peace and quiet in the comfort of the water. "By the Tempest," he swore softly, "He is serious. That cretin," the water began to slowly boil, which caused some of the ice to melt. Water began to leak into his small area, causing his boots to become soaked. His swearing rose to new heights at that, which caused the water to evaporate away from him. Soon, all was calm, and ice began to form into the shape of a ladder. The climb was short, but easy; the door was soon in sight, as was the hallway. Frost and ice prints appeared behind his lone figure, as he continued to stalk down the hallways, towards his destination. He felt alone, but pressed on. 'I am alone,' he thought furiously; ice began to cover his face, then, as well as his hands and arms. The thought halted him in his tracks, which caused the ice beneath his feet to slowly climb his legs. Finding himself leaning against a wall, a glare formed within the ice-blue eyes, causing the ice to accelerate its own journey, but a quick thought halted it quickly. "Now is not the time for such actions," a hoarse whisper reached frost encrusted ears, startling him back to reality.

Reaching the door to the library, Joshua had to furiously shake the ice out of his hair. He had to remind himself, almost daily, that the surface world was not water proof. Growling softly, he stretched out his arm, and concentrated. Mist began to condense in front of him, but painfully slow. The air was warm, a bit too warm for his taste, and dry. Growling under his breath, he wrapped the mist around his head, and proceeded to the darkest corner of the library that he could find, but only after retrieving his books from a cart nearest the door, and sat down to read and watch the gathering of people.