nexus_sages | Winter wonderland

The Nexus has been covered in snow, from the highest rooftop to the lowest gutter. Some of it even persists on the gaudy Nexus sign. Winter has officially landed in the multiverse, and where there's Winter, there's a Winter spirit.

Reynard appears to be making an attempt at being anywhere and everywhere. He's skipping along the rooftops and skating along the path despite a lack of ice. The lakes and ponds in the parklands are frozen over, the windows of houses and shops are frosted, and it's really quite funny watching people try to get through the thicker parts of the snow.

Anyone looking particularly glum will have a snowball flung their way, with some passer-by looking like the culprit. Although someone is already on causing a snowball fight which is an encouraging sign. Occasionally he'll take to making a safe path an ice rink. Only when someone is already on it, of course. He may or may not be putting up the mistletoe too, with a preference for corners and hanging above benches. Certain places carry sound like the mountaintops, with even the quietest word being shared with everyone around. That's not even getting started on all the ice patterns he's spread about the place.

Reynard stops to fold his arms and admire his own work, commenting to whoever happens to be nearby. "Beautiful, don't you think?"

((Feel free to have Winter mishaps and misunderstandings galore here, thread hopping allowed and snow based mishaps encouraged. As noted here, Reynard will be causing trouble for the three months he's a Winter spirit. There is a list of Curses and Blessings here! For those who already looked: Double check as I added a couple.))

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Harrow laughs and nods. "Yeah, man, I already saw someone grouchin' about the holidays! A friend of mine. I never woulda guessed there really were folks who didn't like Winter festivals. Food, fun, friends... Frost!"

He scoops up a bit of snow in his paws and rolls it into a large snowball. For a second or two it seems he's considering throwing it at Reynard, but his manners get the better of him and he sends it flying to disappear into a snowbank a few yards off.

"I live in a place that's sorta... Late summer all the time. Much as I love farmin' there, I do miss the snow. It's kinda fun seein' the Nexus all decked out like this. I was made for weather like this."

Then he leans in and whispers as if he's sharing a prized secret with Reynard. "I do a little ice magic, y'know," he says not at all humbly. "Wanna see?"

"Well we can't be having that. I shall have to make sure there is so much Winter wonder that he cannot deny it!"

The Winter spirit eyes the snowball as it's made and the wolfman considers his potential targets. If he feels disappointment it's well hidden behind his cool features and the permanent pinning up of the corner of his mouth.

Reynard restrains a smile as he nods and in feigned seriousness says, "Oh definitely."

Oh boy! His time to shine! Harrow leaps to his feet all too eagerly and raises his hands to shoulder level.

"Usually I do gusts of frosty wind or conjure chains of ice or coat myself in crystal frost to keep myself protected, but I've been workin' on a new spell! Tryin' to conjure up an ice shockwave in front of me. So... So don't judge me if it ain't perfect! I'm still gettin' the hang of it."

He steps away from Reynard and positions himself so that his audience has a good view of what's to come. Then he stretches one arm out behind him and leans back, posing like he's about to throw a bowling ball. With an unpward sweep of his arm and a confident step forward he conjures icy stalagmites out in front of him like a wave. They're only a few feet tall, but dangerously sharp and jutting in all directions. The little trail of deadly spikes extends just a few feet before him. Hardly a difficult obstacle to avoid at this rate.

"I'm workin' on distance! I'm hopin' it'll go three or four yards by the time I get more control over it. Right now it's a lot of conjurin' in a shape I ain't used to, so I focus on the form of the icicles more than the spread, but..."

He clears his throat and smiles to keep himself from making too many excuses.

Oh, how fun! Not only does he get to watch someone enthusiastically practice ice magic, he gets to see one of their experiments. This is turning out to be quite an interesting day. He stands back and folds his arms, leaning back on one leg to watch.

After the display, Reynard stops stroking his beard to beam widely and clap his hands. "Bravo! It's a good start."

Then he goes back to beard stroking. "Don't worry so much about the shape. Send it forward the distance you want and give it power. It will snap outwards naturally if you do it right. The icicles are beautiful, though. Very well done!"

Harrow's ears perk and flatten over and over, torn between eager listening and some shred of humility at the compliments. He scratches idly at his cheek fur and laughs deeply. "Shoot, if I was in my human form I'd be blushin'. I appreciate your support, Mister."

He turns to reconsider his spikes, then glances back to Reynard. "Distance, huh? So it's... It's a little bit like learnin' how to draw! Draw a lot, draw fast, in broad strokes, and the more you do it the better your form'll get? I think that makes sense! I oughta try it!" Harrow beams, baring his large fangs.

"Do you do a little magic yourself, then? I've met a couple folks here who do. It's real fun learnin' how other folks approach it."

"I do," he admits, meandering over to where Harrowheart stands. He'll get the whole story eventually, but Reynard is enjoying feeding the answers to him bit by bit.

When he gets closer to Harrowheart, he lifts his hand so that the other can see. On it, frost crystals form, snapping along invisible lines. "Ice, frost, it moves in a particular way. It will work better with you if you let it follow the pattern."

Letting his hand drop, he nods in front of him. "Like this." Without a motion of effort, several streaks of ice spread from his feet, large, sharp, sheer shards of ice bursting upwards in different directions like nasty teeth. The ice snaps forward, splitting outwards as well to make a sort of cone shape by the end of it. Reynard considers his work and then shrugs a shoulder as he leans closer to Harrowheart. "You can do spikes, of course. I just use this shape more."

Harrow gasps at the level of skill and the ease with which this man conjures ice. And then he grins! He absolutely beams! And he can't help put clap for a job well done.

"You're talented! And you didn't even say so! You're humbler than you give yourself credit for! Maybe you'd be a good mayor after all."

Reynard North: Mayor of Icetown. It does have a ring, doesn't it?

"Where'd you learn to do that so good, man? What's your story? You some kinda master wizard where you come from?"

"Master wizard?" He laughs loudly. "No!" It's a nice, fancy title, but amusing anyway. Once he's finished having a good old chuckle, he considers the stranger. He quite likes him, with his appreciation of Winter, his adoration of ice, and his ease at giving compliments where they're due.

Deciding that it would be more fun to give the truth than continue playing, Reynard steps back to do another fancy bow. "The full title is Reynard North, Spirit of Winter."

"Spirit of Winter," Harrow whispers in quiet awe. He eyes Reynard up and down and begins to nod and smile.

"But you're not an elemental," he says. He can't deny his confusion. "So you must be... Like... An Aspect!"

All the air leaves his lungs at once. "Shoot, and here I was showin' off my bad spells and bein' a fool..." He runs his handpaws over his head. Pet yourself, Harrow. Calm down. Be cool.

"I got all sorts of questions now, b-but I don't wanna make you feel snubbed. Are there... Are there spirits of the other seasons? Do you know 'em? Do you like them?"

"I'll let you in on a little secret, my dear." Casting his eye around them, Reynard leans closer, lowering his voice and smiling. "I quite enjoy watching people who love Winter things. Especially ice and snow."

At the question, he shrugs and makes a vague nonchalant noise. "I don't know. I've never met any, but I suppose it would make sense for there to be."

Winter wonderland

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