nexus_sages | In which Winter has a thematically appropriate query

Not all Nexus days can be sunshine and beautiful frost patterns. Days like this are a grim, sombre grey. The mist is so thin in places that all it does is make the distance fade away sooner than normal, but it does apply a more reserved filter on a place often filled with joyous shenanigans. No, this is unmistakeably a day which makes the multiverse feel close, secretive.

It's in this clandestine scenery that Reynard strolls about. Far from hopping or skating through the landscape, he strolls about the place, setting ice on the path and covering it with a dusting of snow. In the residential and commercial districts, he's sent ice along as many pipes as he could find. As he goes he rumbles a low slow tune. Some might recognise the sea shanty when he reaches the familiar 'Ho... Ho... and up she rises...'. He's not a bad singer, all things considered.

He looks up from his work and fixes his eyes on the nearest stranger, singing fading into a deep hum and then silence before he speaks. "What is the coldest thing you've ever done? The most cold hearted act you've ever brought yourself to commit. Go ahead. I'm not one to judge."

Just as the quiet settles back into place, he pipes up again. "Actually, you can tell me the literal coldest thing you've ever done too, if you'd prefer. I can't resist a good ice story."

((Reynard is still handing out Winter Curses & Blessings and causing trouble if you would like to avail of any. Other than that: Caution to those who talk to spirits, they are proud and fickle people.))

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"I'll breathe better when I'm at h-home, where it's warm." Steve's buried his face into the collar of his green coat, leaving only his blue eyes visible while he tries in vain to warm up enough that it doesn't hurt to breathe.

The bag gets shifted in his hands, and only when Reynard speaks does Steve withdraw from his coat again.

"Oh. ..Sorry then. I'm Steve. Steve Rogers. It's nice to meet you, sir." Best not to question other worlds' etiquette.

Standing next to the spirit causing the ice and snow is going to make warming up a very difficult endeavour indeed.

He touches his hat and bends at the waist. "Reynard North. A pleasure." Really, it is. With all the modern medicines back in his world it's much rarer these days to meet a twenty-something year old struggling so much in the cold. Do excuse the twinkle of fascination in his eyes.

"I've never been to Brooklyn. Could you make snowmen there?"

"You can, just gotta find the real estate to put it up in." Steve nods along with Reynard's question. The man's fascination with the snow is confusing, but then Steve has no idea what Reynard's true nature is.

"Lots of kids make them right out on the sidewalks, or by an alleyway entrance. Yards aren't really a thing in Brooklyn or any other corner of New York City. There's always bunch of them in Central Park though."

"And you? Do you make snowmen? The Nexus is such a convenient place for it. No shortage of ways to dry off soon after playing in the cold."

"Haven't in a l-long time." Steve admits quietly. "Th-the cold doesn't like me much, and I get sent to hospital often enough without tempting fate." Steve sinks back into his coat again, shivering bodily in his seat.

"I always preferred making snow angels, m-myself." Less fatiguing than building snow forts or snowmen. Plus a great view of the snowing sky.

"Maybe the cold likes you too much, and that's the problem."

It is very hard for Reynard not to make a joke about making snow angels putting Steve at risk of joining the angels. Somehow, he manages not to, grinning instead. "Have you always been this sickly?"

"Used to be worse, actually." Steve replies with a forced chuckle. "Got an immunity boost from my friend's personal trainer the first time I got real sick here. Keeps me from getting sicker, but it doesn't do a thing for my asthma and other problems."

He gives a small shrug before glancing up to Reynard.

"Hard to appreciate the cold when it hurts to breathe."

"Winter likes what it does. It only wants you to be part of the whole experience. Hard to understand, I know, but it means well in its own way."

"What about the fires and the parties? Do you enjoy them?"

"Oh, absolutely." Steve nods eagerly, rubbing his gloved hands together to keep feeling in them. "I wish i had a fireplace in my home. It makes things all the more cozy, I think. And Christmastime? Me and my friend's families used to get togheter, when my Ma was still alive."

Steve can't help but smile as he remembers.

"We never had much, but we'd go all out and have a huge meal, his Ma would always compliment mine on her dresses, even though she'd sewn 'em out of old feed bag fabric scraps she'd save up during the year. Made my Ma feel like she was real special." The smile falters.

"This is the first winter i've been away from my friend." He admits. "His Christmas present is still under my tree. Haven't...gotten the heart to take it down, yet.'

The memories are all listened to with a pleasant smile as the Winter spirit enjoys them with Steve. "It sounds lovely."

Reynard lifts an eyebrow curiously and then straightens out his expression again. "Fires used to start all the time because of dried out Christmas trees."

"It's fake." Steve assures Reynard. "Someone threw out a tree, so I took the top third of it home and set it up for myself." He couldn't lift much more than that or he'd have brought the whole thing. But he likes his little tree. It's small, like him.

"Now way I could haul a real tree up five flights of stairs."

"Fake? What sort of tree is that to have for Christmas?" Reynard tuts disapprovingly and wags a finger at Steve. "Next time you must get something real. There's no replacing the scent of a slowly dying everygreen."

"I tried." Steve laughs easily. He agrees, after all. "I got a pine candle for the apartment. It helped, but it's not the same." Cough, okay maybe laughing in this cold isn't the best of ideas.

Just give him a moment, Reynard.

"Ugh...Anyway, at least there's no fire hazard."

The pause almost makes it sound like Reynard has agreed with him. He ruins it by adding, "Unless you have lights on it."

"Just popcorn strings." Steve replies easily, smiling vaguely as he remembers making them back at home. "That's all Ma would put on hers."

Steve rubs at his chilled face to try and warm some feeling into his cheeks.

Have a confused frown. Oh, and absolutely no help with the cold.

"Popcorn strings?"

Now it's Steve's turn to look disappointed.

"What kind of sad family did you grow up in? You take a needle and thread and make a batch of popcorn and thread them into a big chain to hang on the tree like tinsel." Steve looks at Reynard again, and then flushes with embarrassment when he realizes that's probably another one of those 'Great Depression' poor person decorations.

"...It always looked so white and fluffy. Like snow on the branches."

"Hm! That sounds surprisingly nice." He's thoughtful as he says it, then explains, "I've never had my own tree before. I get to look at a lot of others though."

In which Winter has a thematically appropriate query

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