[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

Lord Henry | OPEN

[epigrammatical]

Lord Henry is out strolling in the snow, swinging his ebony walking-stick with surprising jauntiness. Winter has never been his favourite season, save when observed from inside next to a well-built fire, but curiosity drove him out of doors first, where he bent down to scoop up a handful of snow for closer examination. As he inspected it, confirming that it was in fact real snow, a breeze blew some of it into his face.

There may have been some snow glitter in there.

This may account for his current mood, which is more cheerful than it's been in days.

[virginprice]

"Henry!" Alcuin hurries to catch up with him, looking almost like a winter sprite himself with snow caught in his loose hair and his cheeks (and the tip of his nose) bright rosy red. He's been out in the snow for a while now. He leans up to greet his friend with a kiss (he's not particularly concerned about propriety at the moment) and a smile.

"Isn't it beautiful out here?"

[epigrammatical]

Even Henry might have been briefly taken aback by the kiss under normal circumstances, but for some reason it doesn't bother him in the slightest today, and he beams affectionately at Alcuin, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Most lovely and unexpected. Why, something about it reminds me of my childhood at Tavistock House, though I am sure that the snow was never quite so beautiful even then."

[virginprice]

The kiss is just d'Angeline good manners- though he is generally more discreet about it here, since everyone is very different from d'Angelines. He links his arm with Henry's, leaning against him affectionately. "We used to get snow like this in the mountains, only not so beautifully shaped- and you ought to see the ice sculptures that have appeared. They are truly charming."

[epigrammatical]

"Ice sculptures! There is no shortage of wonders here today. And I gather from the city folks' reaction that this is not a usual occurrence. I wonder what we have to think for this." His earlier conversation with Jack, while not having slipped his mind entirely, is not the first thing that's occurred to him. "Let us see these ice sculptures, then."

[virginprice]

Alcuin was good at connections, and his mind had already formed one between Jack- who had blown snow into his suite when they'd met- and the winter that had so suddenly engulfed Keeliai. "They were down this way. There were quite a few of them, all different landmarks, I think. I only recognized one."

[epigrammatical]

"Lead the way, dear boy. A curious choice of subject matter, landmarks. One would expect perhaps something more classical, or fanciful creatures." He gestured in the direction of the skating-pond. "I suppose you have seen that there is a place for ice-skating? I expect there must be a hill for sledding as well. It is as if all one's childhood games have been thought of."

[wintershepherd]

Walking sticks. It was so nostalgic that Jack stopped to admire the way this one was swinging it around and the obvious cheer in which he did... some of which Jack recognized as his own magic handiwork.

"Someone's enjoying themselves," he said brightly. "Hi, Mr Henry."

[epigrammatical]

Henry looked around for the source of the voice and somewhat to his own surprise, actually saw Jack. It was a little vague; even looked at straight-on, he appeared to be seen out of the corner of one's eye, but he was certainly there nevertheless. Which was something of a relief, really; Henry would have felt unspeakably silly speaking to empty air.

"Good afternoon, Jack. Is this your handiwork?"

[wintershepherd]

Jack immediately noticed that Henry's gaze didn't search for him and beamed. "It is!" he replied, the pride evident in his voice. "Everybody needs a snow day, even if it happens to be in March."

[epigrammatical]

"It is very beautifully done," Henry said, "quite beautifully. I think I have not seen such snows since my childhood. Certainly not in London, where snow is merely a different form of—I beg your pardon—filth."

[wintershepherd]

"Yeah," Jack replied wryly, with a tone that suggested he knew exactly what Henry was talking about. "Believe me, I tried. At least when the Thames used to freeze people could have a place to walk that wasn't so dirty. Then they stopped with the winter carnivals after they took the old bridge down and they started messing with the river banks to make the water flow better which, admittedly, did help with the smell but now it doesn't freeze safe enough for anyone to be on in the winter."

[epigrammatical]

"There is no great gain without some loss," Henry said. "But that is perhaps beside the point; mostly I wished to compliment you on your work. Are the ice sculptures your doing as well?"

[depicted]

An encounter with Henry is inevitable, and Dorian shouldn't be surprised that it finds him now. He doesn't deviate in his path; that would feel like cowardice. But he can't quite make himself briskly walk away. He tries to harden his heart and strengthen his resolve, but even so, fish on a hook or comet in the curves of gravity, Dorian slows as he approaches Harry. Snow clings to his curls as he forces himself not to duck his head.

Dorian seeks the vitriol in his heart and conjures up a sharp smile. "Hope you're having a good evening, Harry." He offers Harry a wave. He wants to keep walking away. He thinks he can.

Probably.

(His conversation with Prouvaire hangs heavy in his chest, and some part of Dorian wants to ask Harry for acceptance. It's horrible, the love he has for Lord Henry Wotton.)

[epigrammatical]

For an unpleasant moment, Henry is certain that Dorian is about to cut him dead, something he has half-dreaded and half-expected since their last conversation. And Henry himself had not yet determined exactly what he would do the next time he saw Dorian; his instinct, as always, is to push on as if nothing has happened.

(Basil, whispers a voice in the back of his head, one that he tries very hard to ignore. What really happened to Basil?)

Maybe it's the glitter in the snow, or the whiteness of the snow in the darkness of Dorian's curls, but now Henry finds that he cannot be anything but friendly, and he lifts his hat to Dorian and smiles, slowing his own pace.

"Good evening, Dorian. I hope you are as well."

[depicted]

His youth calls to him. Feet in the snow and eyes on Henry, Dorian's expression softens and he comes to a halt. Who could name the drug that sways him? "That's a very charming look on you," he begins, and then his glance falls down and he almost says more, he almost says 'sorry.'

But at least he holds back from that.

[epigrammatical]

Henry doesn't expect an apology, in fact; he would have been more surprised if one had actually been forthcoming, and so he carries on, with the practice of a man who has sat with grace at dinner across from his ample share of extinguished love affairs.

"Some credit lies at Mlle. Favrielle's feet, it must be said," he replies with a light shrug. "Unless you speak of the snow, in which case we may thank our local winter sprite, it seems. It is wonderful how snow makes clean so much, like a Catholic sacrament."

[depicted]

Dorian can certainly manage his dead love affairs, but then, that's because he never feels anything for them when they're done with. Harry is something else.

He doesn't really agree with Henry's remark, but he doesn't want to argue with him. "Jack Frost? I'll have to give him my thanks."

So his conversation stays banal and quiet with the weight of the unsaid.

[epigrammatical]

"You are looking very well today yourself. Winter suits you." Then again, what season does not with Dorian? (By the by, Dorian, whatever became of that friend of yours who wanted to kill me?) "I trust you've been keeping well? I myself have made a friend of that bookseller we met in the Wood Sector—Daowei, he of the vast selection of poetry."

[usavatar]

Steve has to admit to some surprise, seeing Lord Henry out and so clearly enjoying himself. The impression from the book-

Again, he reminds himself of what he said to Dorian. He owes this man the same chance, the same clean slate, no expectations. When Steve approaches, it's with a kedan child balanced on one of his shoulders, a young girl who's made herself up to look like the statue of the feathered tooth fairy.

"Hello, sir."

[epigrammatical]

"Captain! Good afternoon." Henry raises his hat in greeting and also smiles up at the child. "And hello to your charming young friend."

[usavatar]

She makes a chirping noise and hides her face against Steve's hair. He grins.

"I'm surprised. Most people... well, I'd think you'd have more trouble with the way the kedan can look."

[epigrammatical]

"There is charm and beauty to be found even in what is strange," Henry replies with a smile. To be sure, after his arrival he had found the appearance of many kedan unsettling, but he'd grown accustomed surprisingly quickly. "Indeed, often the strangeness only increases the charm."

[usavatar]

"Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it," Steve says, and bounces the kedan on his shoulder before lifting her down into the snow.

He watches the girl leaping between his footprints for a moment before continuing the conversation. "How are you adjusting to all this? It must be... different, the work and everything."

[epigrammatical]

He waves a graceful hand, a gesture that seems to say that nothing is ever really difficult for him. Only a slight twitch of the mouth at the word work betrays that gesture in any way. "Oh, to be sure, it is a very long way from London in every respect. But I was fortunate to have some assistance in the first days of my being here, and I have many charming new acquaintances—to say nothing of an entirely new set of gossip. For that alone I could be perfectly grateful."