I guess it wouldn't be so bad

[998]

WHO: jon snow (998), open
WHERE: outside the safehouse
WHEN: october 10th, as soon as the cold weather gear is delivered
WHAT: SNOWBALL FIGHT!!!
NOTES OR WARNINGS: will update as needed



[finally they have their cold weather gear. jon was starting to think they were making all the coats by hand. he snatches up as much as he can that is black and sleek and fairly runs out the door. he is met with a wall of snow and he laughs. with a shovel and a few minutes he has knocked a little clearing of knee-deep snow and lounges in the drifts created, enjoying the fresh air. it's cold, but it's sunny, and it's not as windy as it had been at the wall and beyond it. he's quick to throw snow at anyone he recognizes, grinning as he hasn't since the dream ended.]

Comments

[forcevisions]

[ Rey is as glad as anyone to be out of the confines of the train. Being crammed into a train cart and submerged under an ocean was just a little too close to home for someone who had died in her dreams in the ocean only days ago. As a result, she's eager to bundle in her winter clothes and get outside. She's nearly unrecognizable, a big cluster of black wool and nylon.

When the ball of ice slaps her in the side of the head, she begins thinking maybe she'd have been better off staying inside. It staggers her, and she whips around with an indignant scoff. ]

Watch it!

[998]

[jon lets out a little puff of laughter. he rises to his feet holding up his hands.]

Sorry. I was aiming for your back.

[she just--moves a little too quickly, sometimes. he holds out his arms and takes a few steps backwards.]

Now you try.

[forcevisions]

[ Try what? Try throwing things at him? She looks skeptical at first, then reaches down and scoops up a fistful of snow. She doesn't spend any time compacting it, so when she throws it, it mostly dispels into fresh powder and a few chunks that approach him more closely.

No good. That only seems to annoy her--she'd opted immediately to take up his offer of revenge, and she hadn't even been able to make it work. ]

do you want to build a snowball

[998]

[jon laughs and lifts his face to the snow, catching a few flakes. he moves forward, scooping up snow.]

You have to pack it some--here.

[he demonstrates, being careful not to pack it too hard. he hands it to her.]

Now it'll go anywhere you throw it.

[a grin. why does he look so happy.]

Or you could just--

[he scoops up a small handful of snow and dumps it on rey's head.]

it doesn't have to be a snowball

[forcevisions]

[ She yelps.

It's a sound she's never made in her life, but in her defense, a snow-shower is a feeling she's never felt before in her life. It's undignified and uninhibited and weirdly feral, and it's completely instinctual then when she takes the snowball he's handed off and smashes it on the side of his face. She doesn't throw. She just reaches up and presses it into his face like a pie at a carnival.

The chill is awful, and immediately, she sets about getting her distance from him and trying to scoop the snow back out of the inside of her jacket's collar. It's useless that way, of course, but it doesn't move like sand does to easily slide out the bottom if she loosens it--in part because her thick snowgear has a belt around the middle to keep all the warm air conserved. ]

[secondnature]

Let's team up against him. He looks like an expert. [That is literally based on him starting it, but he also doesn't appear to be bothered about being outside. In Keith's book, that means they have to take him out.

For what goal?

Well, the goal of making him feel bad for making Keith cold.

There.]

[forcevisions]

I don't even know what game we're playing.

[ She's just spelling that out before Keith hitches his wagon to this horse. It's not too late to pick a better team. ]

[secondnature]

Not all games have rules. [Keith hasn't had a snowball fight, but he's done a similar thing out in space. It was a good time and less cold.

He'd gladly take that back.]

And if he decides it does have one, my power can help. [A beat.] I think.

[secondnature]

[Snow is the worst. The moment the snowball hits the side of his face, it creeps down his neck and makes his neck cold. Why does his neck have to be cold? Keith makes a frustrated sound, but slowly pulls it together, crouching down to make a snowball. It's easy, right? And he's not the type to go without retribution.

Without waiting, he throws it right at Jon ...

... only it breaks in the process, stopping short and hitting the ground midway between them.]

Stupid snow! Not sticking together.

[998]

[jon laughs.]

That means you need to pack it tighter.

[he moves into a crouch, grabs a handful of snow.]

Here, watch--

[he packs it expertly, stands back up and tosses it to (or at) keith.]

[secondnature]

[The good thing: Keith's instincts are uncanny, so he doesn't have a hard time "catching" the snow when it's tossed to him. The problem is that he catches it with his hands coming together, and it crushes it.]

Not as demonstrative as you'd think. [Like this was Jon's fault. When it isn't.]

I'll try again. Stand right where you are.

[And then this time, he packs the snow together, taking care, and than he tosses it right in Jon's direction. Keith has good aim.]

[998]

[jon doesn't move, only stretches his arms out. the snowball explodes onto his chest.]

Well done. You're learning.

[he packs another one, tosses it gently at keith.]

ota!

[culver]

[Thisavrou was mostly tropical, the parts of it that weren't either under water or a dry sort of cold. So getting to see snow for real, when she's only read about it or seen videos, puts her beside herself with glee. It's cold, obviously, and she'd known that once it warmed against her skin it would melt to water, but that doesn't stop her from stuffing a handful of it into her mouth. At least it's clean.

She knows the basic idea behind snowballs, and takes care forming a perfectly spherical one. It takes several minutes, during which she doesn't pay much attention to what or who is around her. Once her creation is complete, she holds it in front of herself with pride for the span of a breath.

And then lobs it at the person closest to her.]

[998]

[ jon watches the proceedings and nods in approval.]

That was a good one.

[culver]

[She turns to flash him a smile, pink already bloomed across her cheeks from the cold. The underground had always been a little chilly, but that was nothing compared to here. Besides that, it had never snowed.]

Thanks. I'm a little surprised I hit.

[Because even after months of training with Tetora and Shepherd, she isn't a very sporty person.]

[998]

[jon grins.]

The trick is to throw enough that some of them are bound to land. But it was very nice, the one you made.

[whitehair]

[ okay, that was maybe his fault for not looking her way - heine doesn't enjoy this cold in particular; the end of his nose and his ears are both tinged pink and red from the frosty temperature, and he idly wanders around with his back turned to Nill, idly dragging his feet to leave tracks in the snow, kicking down piles and watching the flurry of snow as it scatters underfoot.

on retrospect, he should have expected it of her, to be honest - it's always the quiet ones who were evil, that's what they always said in the movies.

the snowball hits him smack bang in the back of his head - a lucky chance, he'll give her that - and heine is jerked forward with the impact, stumbling forward before he regains his balance with a hand bracing against a knee. ]

Hey!

[culver]

[She hadn't been aiming for his head.

Her mark had been his back, but she'd either overcompensated, thinking she couldn't make the distance, or God hates her, because that snowball lands smack on the back of his pale hair and Nill's face contorts in shocked horror for about half a second.

And then she's doubled over laughing silently, shoulders shaking and wings trembling beneath her thick jacket.]

[whitehair]

[ it's beginner's luck, that's what it was.

heine straightens up almost immediately, and the expression on his face as he shakes his head, dislodging clumps of snow from his hair and ( - shudder - ) having it slide down the back of his neck into his coat, is a mixture of shock and a strange sort of elation, lighting up his eyes as heine realises who exactly had thrown that snowball. ]

Oh, you are so brave. [ doubled over and ( relatively ) defenseless, but that doesn't mean heine would stop himself and wait for her to recover.

reaching down, heine grabs a few handful of snow and starts to form it into a rough spherical shape. ]

[isherarmor]

[She laughs when she sees Nill eat a handful of snow - she hadn't expected that, but it's a good natured laugh - and she hadn't meant to give her position away this soon so she quiets after another small huff.]

Have you done it before?

[The care she takes gives Sansa an idea that only spreads her smile, and she files it away for later.]

[culver]

[Nill immediately picks out Sansa among the snowbanks, but doesn't make a move to throw a snowball at her. Instead, she shakes her head, though she doesn't seem embarrassed by the fact.]

I've never seen snow for real before now.

[isherarmor]

[She's managed to find a coat that fits well enough (and she thinks she might ask to keep it so that she might embellish it later, but for now it's just black) and she'd been happy to shovel snow - it had been so very long since she'd felt it - seen it - for true. It was real enough in the dreamscape at the time, but this is fine and clear and unaccompanied by any sense of strange dread. After a bit she's managed to make herself a space, and that bleeds into a path another has shoveled before her, but it ends and - soon enough she's walking only to recognize the figure bending in the snow in his own little clearing. She moves quietly, hoping to get the jump on him but as she packs her own snowball, trying to recall just how Jack had shown her - and she's so focused that she cries out in surprise when she's struck in the shoulder. The cry quickly turns into a laugh, and a playful warning.]

You're going to pay for that, you know.

[998]

[jon laughs and rises from a crouch.]

Oh, aye?

[he peers at her snowball and then walks backwards, holding his arms up in mock-surrender.]

You always did have to make them perfect.

[it's been years, but he'll never forget how they used to run around winterfell in the summer snows.]

[isherarmor]

Oh, yes. It's the most ladylike of snowballs, I assure you.

[She had never forgotten - oh, it was hazy once, but it always came back, and the dreams as well as this - oh, mostly this - have brought a fresh rush of memory, and she's breathless as she throws it, grinning at his mock surrender - waiting to see if it lands.

She'd been rubbish at it when they were children, most times ending up on the wrong side of the snow, but still laughing in the end. She'd been quite proud back in Anatole - how many people could boast they'd been taught by the spirit of Winter himself?]

[998]

[he doesn't move, allowing her to get one in before he darts behind a snowdrift, scoops up a handful of snow, and packs it--not too hard--before circling around and coming at her from the other side. it's a very light toss, meant to crumble on impact. he darts away again, pressing himself into the deep snows.]