[OPEN EVENT] Weekend Winter Wonderland

[wintershepherd]

Characters: All?
Date: March 8th-11th
Location: All of Keeliai
Situation: It's been a stressful month thus far for a lot of people, but Jack is determined to Make All The Happy and decides he needs to get back to his wintery roots by giving the city a proper snowing.
Warnings/Rating: People high on snow glitter?
NOTES: Actionspam OR prose, whatever is preferred! (Settings were just easier to prose.) Make your own thread headers if none of these suit! ♥



Jack had spent the last three hours balanced motionlessly on the top of a flagpole, head tilted back as he listened to the wind and the sound of the city below. Where is Winter? it asked. I'm here! the spirit replied, but he knew it didn't mean his physical presence. He'd had too much on his mind and too much in his heart and in that sense he had indeed been absent these last few weeks.

Eyes closed and thoughtlessly trusting, he tipped forward into open air, letting the wind catch him and hurl him upward into the misty cloud cover that scudded across the stars tonight. At his touch they thickened, fat and pale grey against the indigo backdrop and Jack swirled them up, the motions so ingrained in him they felt just like breathing. In the small hours of the morning snowflakes began to fall on the sleeping city, specks at first but then quickly becoming heavier.

Now with a fresh canvas to work with, Jack was really in his element. He could never have done something like this back home, not anywhere in his world. It would have been too strange, too inexplicable, drawn too much attention. But here on the turtle, things were different. There wasn't really a semblance of normal and Jack poured his imagination and heart into the things he wanted most to share, and from the snow rose gleaming swirls of snow and blue light, forming things of exceptional detail and delight.

By the time the sun rose, a solid three feet of the snow had blanketed the city, glistening and crisp and Jack went rocketing down the streets, rapping on doors and windows to leave spirals of frost on every surface.

"Whooohoo! Snow day! Get up sleepyheads, everyone come out and play!"


THREAD STARTERS
Ice Skating | Snowball Battle | Sledding Hill | Ice Cityscapes | Kids Playground | OOC Plot Post

Comments

[lecentre]

I do have that reputation among others, don't I?

[Well, he technically did. In a very roundabout way. He's very delighted, however, at the next news. He has to be, in order to keep from thinking about the fate of the poor child.]

You had not... How is he, then?

[poeticverses]

Probably suffering from a stomach ache. He was stuffing himself when we met in the market. He lives in our sector.

[lecentre]

[He can't help but laugh at that.]

The poor gamin, I hope he's better by now if that's the case. Or at least that he gets well enough to enjoy the snow while it's here.

[poeticverses]

I doubt he would let a stomach ache stop him. Would you, at his age?

[lecentre]

I'm not even letting still healing bullet wounds stop me at my age. I believe that's your answer there.

[poeticverses]

[Jehan's instinctively rubs at his coat just over his heart. He can't help it]

True. How old are you again? Fifty?

[lecentre]

[He notices, but doesn't comment. He can't bring himself to think about the barricades, not when he isn't dreaming them. It's good that he would much rather distract himself with a laugh.]

Nearly!

[He nudges Jehan's arm playfully.]

Would you believe it?

[poeticverses]

Twenty-five is not nearly fifty, you dolt.

[Jehan laughs and nudges back]

You haven't even begun to gray!

[lecentre]

I am already halfway there! It may as well be fifty!

[Really, he's only jesting.]

And I can thank God that my hair has retained so much of its youth as I continue to age.

[poeticverses]

You will be the only seventy-five year old man with a head of black curls, mon ami. All the old maids will swoon.

[lecentre]

Then I will not have lost my touch.

[Will they age here? That's something he doesn't feel like asking but finds himself more than curious about.]

[poeticverses]

[Jehan just laughs and knocks Courfeyrac's hat off]

You, sir, are impossible.

[lecentre]

[Courfeyrac is quick to retrieve the hat with a pointed (teasing) look at Jehan.]

Careful, mon ami, I went through much to acquire this hat.

[poeticverses]

Batting your eyelashes at a pretty shopkeeper is hardly a trial for you, Courfeyrac. Should you lose this one, I've no doubt you'll find another. God only knows you have every other time.

[Jehan laughs. He's feeling particularly relaxed right now]

[lecentre]

No, but I can't be guaranteed that it will work a second time. Or third. Or even fourth.

[He smiles a little, relaxing as well.]

I believe it's more the principle of the matter, I'd hate to lose yet another one so soon.

[poeticverses]

The day you can't charm your way into something is the day Enjolras gives up his cause. To be honest, though, I don't know why you still bother with hats, Courfeyrac. Surely it's cheaper just to forgo them all together.

[lecentre]

I would not be the same without my hats, Prouvaire. And as you said, I can just charm my way into new ones.

[poeticverses]

You are terrible--ah, here it is.

[The café is sadly closed on account of the snow, but Jehan gestures grandly towards it]

Our new meeting place.

[lecentre]

I've never denied it.

[He crosses his arms in front of himself and tilts his head, grinning.]

Now I can find my way without a guide if need be. I'm sure it is perfect, I know Enjolras would settle for nothing less.

[poeticverses]

It is, although I am not quite sure how we are going to accommodate Temeraire now. Hm.

[Jehan stares at the building for a moment before shrugging lightly. Combeferre was better suited for that particular problem. Hopefully.]

But yes, it is quite lovely. The chairs are not the rickety wooden ones of the Musian or Corinth, which is both a blessing and a curse. I am not forced to stand and work out the stiffness that comes from such chairs but I am more reluctant to leave.

[lecentre]

Temeraire?

[Courfeyrac has yet to have the pleasure of meeting the dragon yet.]

Unless of course there are tangents that we are eager to avoid... In which case, leaving would seem welcome as compared to the comfort of the chairs.

[poeticverses]

Yes, that is his name. A strangely French name for a British dragon.

[But hey, he's not going to ask]

And when are there tangents we are eager to avoid?

[lecentre]

Pardon? A dragon?

[Are you ill, Jehan? Do you hear what you're speaking of?]

There may be none, but one must always be prepared.

[poeticverses]

True. And you heard me--Temeraire is a dragon, and Combeferre has spoken to him as well so this isn't some flight of fancy or delusion of mine.

[lecentre]

I heard you, yes, but I find it difficult to believe. A British dragon?