Snow Miser [O]

[Alfred Cheverell]

Alfred was having the time of his life, oddly enough. Normally things like this didn't happen - he was smiling far too much. The joyous air about him was foreign, but he was having a grand old time watching the snow fall around him. Flakes landed gently in his hair, on his skin, and they didn't melt. He was able to study the curiosities of snowflakes, watch as ice crystallized around him, and wear all the warm things he wanted. His puffer coat was pulled closely around him, his cheeks rosy from the cool air that caressed his face as he began to construct what would be his next masterpiece, his mittened hands doing far less work than anyone else's would have to have been doing. 

The Snow Miser was about to come to life, a cartoon character whom Alfred had always admired thanks to his love of the cold. After nearly ten minutes of diligent work, the boy had handcrafted a life-size replica of Mr. White Christmas, and was quite proud of himself for doing so. All the while he had been humming Snow Miser's theme song, putting himself in a right festive mood. Life was good, he guessed. He spent his time shaping and molding the snow while he chatted with the non-existent creature before him, likely seeming a great fool.

"Alright, it's settled then. You'll stay here, and I'll walk back to get some hot chocolate." While he enjoyed winter weather, Alf knew he needed to be particularly careful with his inner temperature. While he didn't feel cold, he knew it would be wise to get some hot beverage and maybe eat a few cookies - one could never have enough sugar in their system. The brown-eyed boy pivoted and began making his way through the forest to get back to the academy, whistling all the while.

[Olivia Reese]

Olivia didn't particularly like the snow, but near the beginning of winter, it was somewhat of a novelty. Especially near Christmas. The world had somehow been brainwashed into believing that a layer of frozen water would somehow make the season more festive. 

So, she had braved the cold, partly in spirit of the season, and partly because the library was jam-packed with other students. She walked at a somewhat brisk pace, bundled tightly in her full winter gear. Olivia had no direction in mind until she came across someone else. 

It was a boy. He looked about her age, but it was occasionally counterproductive to assume age based on appearance at a mutant school. She considered approaching him for a second, but then decided against it. She wasn't good at introducing herself. Or talking to people, really.

Instead, she stood a little ways off, watching curiously as he worked on a snowman, or rather a snow creation. It was far from your typical three large balls of snow stacked on top of each other. It could have been featured in some sort of festival. 

Olivia stayed silent when the boy left his creation and spoke a few words to it. She did, however pop out of the trees, willing herself to have some sort of human contact that day. When she did so, though, she didn't account for the fact that she and the boy would be headed in the exact same trajectory. Distracted by trying to avoid hitting the boy, she tripped, half over her own feet, and half over a large lump of snow.

Her hands went out in front of her to stop her fall, and she landed in a bank of snow just in front of him with an "oof". Wonderful. Her jacket wasn't even waterproof. 

[Alfred Cheverell]

As if in a daze caused by determination, Alfred nearly stumbled himself as the woodsy woman fell into (onto? al wasn't entirely certain) the snow bank. Without a second's hesitation, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh heaven," he muttered, voice betraying the embarrassment he felt. This couldn't be happening, could it? Someone had actually witnessed him create this childhood idol out of snow, and they had probably heard him talking to it! For shame, Alfred! How could he not have noticed? That would have been the ideal time to make a snide comment or flee - whichever was more suitable at the time.

Face red not only from the cold, he forced himself to examine the situation. "Okay?" He mumbled, quickly shaking his head to snap out of his distraction. "Are you okay?" His voice held in it more conviction than it had merely moments ago. "Uh, here," he offered a hand for the girl to take, should she wish it. Alf found himself hoping she hadn't literally eaten snow; while he loved the stuff, eating it wasn't something he was too keen on. Snow cones, however, were an entirely different matter.

He then realized that he'd just offered a hand to the woman's back, and his face became increasingly heated. "Good gracious," he tittered, too aware of personal space and boundaries to reach out and yoink her from her snowy resting place. Such a fool! While he was wholly tempted begin the girl's interrogation and figure out exactly how much she had noticed, he bit his tongue. Had she not noticed his tendency to talk to himself - or had she enjoyed his work - he didn't want to make himself seem more a fool than he already had made himself out to be. It was probably more worthwhile to maintain his relatively charming mood and go about his day. What was the worst she could do, anyway? At this point they both had a little dirt on one another, and he literally had the upper hand. 

[Olivia Reese]

"Of course I'm not okay," Olivia snapped, "this coat is Versace! I'll have to get it dry-cleaned now." She glanced at the hand extended to her, not particularly fond of how the situation looked for her, and turned her nose up at it. The boy looked so smug, standing above her like that.

The teen huffed and got to her feet, lessening the pull of gravity to the earth to make herself appear more graceful that she would have otherwise. She had already made a big enough fool of herself, and she preferred not to do anything worse. She then brushed the snow off of her coat as best she could, but it was a little late. The snow had begun to melt into the suede fabric, beginning to form the inevitable watermarks where the snow had touched. 

"What were you doing over there, anyway?" She asked, distracted by her jacket. She was already talking to the boy, so she figured she might as well keep going. It was probably embarrassment that was making her lash out even more than usual. She was purposely trying to draw attention to the thing he had clearly gone in to the woods to do alone. Obviously, she was wonderful at making friends. 

[Alfred Cheverell]

Alfred's feathers were ruffled by the young woman's deliberate neglect of his foolishly misplaced hand and the tone of voice she was using to converse with. The heat disappeared from his cheeks and his brown eyes became as cold as the snow bank the girl had just fallen into. "Wouldn't have had to get it dry cleaned if you hadn't tripped in the first place," he retorted , crossing his arms across his chest in the most defiant (and immature) way he could manage. It was a good thing he hadn't had any siblings. "You should be thankful your pretty coat was the only thing damaged." A snide compliment packaged with a bow and delivered promptly, classic Alfred.

As soon as the girl posed the question about his doings, Alfred remembered his earlier embarrassment and decided to tone his snark down a bit. "I was..." he took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, two vapor streams leaving his body, "making something that probably has little value to most, but means a considerable amount to me." The statement was a little deeper than intended, though it meant little now. "I guess it's art?" He allowed himself a thoughtful pause, "I don't know what to call it, really." His tone and eyes softened as he look back to the creation he'd so lovingly crafted, only to abandon it in the end.

Immediately back on the defensive, Alfred looked at the girl in her silly Versace coat. "Yourself?" He left out a considerably terrible pun, but kept his defiantly defensive air. The only things soft about Alfred were his thick curls and his inquisitive chestnut eyes, though the latter shone with a challenge. Whether or not it was accepted, it need not matter; he would be alright with any outcome.

[Olivia Reese]

A snide comment came back to match her own. Olivia raised her lip and rolled her eyes in response, an immature reaction equating to his. "Well perhaps if you weren't in the way, the it wouldn't have been an issue," she retorted, flattening down the fabric in a huff. It had been a while since someone had been able to match her tone that well. On some level, she was almost impressed. Almost. She still wasn't happy about everything that had just happen. Which, yes, she did realize was mostly her fault, but that didn't make her want to blame the boy any less.

Art. Interesting. She snuck a peek back at the cartoon snowman that stood a little ways off. It didn't really look like art to her; she might have even called it plagiarism if pushed anymore than she already was. But, she did carry a hint of respect for people who felt that way about things, and it was clear from the look that the boy was giving his creation that he was someone like that. It was the way that playing the violin made her feel.

His sharp tone returned as he addressed her again. She faltered for a second, pausing to think of something to say that wasn't 'watching you creepily from afar'. After giving it a brief moment of thought, she matched his tone down to each cadence. "Going for a walk. It's too noisy inside." It was true, technically. She was simply lying by omission.

"Sorry for disturbing you or whatever," Olivia muttered after a second. She had already ruined things with yet another person, and she had barely spoken to him for five minutes. That sentence was far from what she actually wanted to say, but she did want to have a conversation that didn't end in bitter words and eye rolls like they often did with her. So, she was taking the high road... Sort of. 

[Alfred Cheverell]

For a moment, Alfred felt his heart pitter-pattering in his chest. Perhaps he and this young sass master were not so unlike as he'd initially thought. He nodded his agreement to her statement about the noise level of the indoors, perhaps a little too emphatically. "It's nice to escape all the commotion sometimes, especially when it's so peaceful outdoors. Seems the cold tends to scare people off," he laughed somewhat bitterly, well aware of his mutations and the abilities it granted him. The snow wasn't a friend to most, and that was a-okay with Alf.

The next words out of the girl's soft lips hit Alfred like a ton of bricks, causing a complete overhaul of his facial expression and tone. "It's alright," he chipped off the 'I guess' that he'd instinctively wanted to tack onto the end; now was not a time for passive-aggression, it was a time to make some progress. "I'm sorry for being in your way, or whatever?" He managed a meager smile and offered a palms up gesture, something that was a sign of submission for the blonde. It wasn't often he would be so willing to concede, but the girl had apologized, and it seemed only natural given his previously sunny mood

"Well, I'm Alfred." His introduction was a low-key white flag, and he hoped she'd pick up on that idea and run with it. It did no good to have dirt on a no-name stranger, anyway. "Are you by chance heading back to the academy? I don't know if you overheard me, but I was thinking about making some hot chocolate." While tempted to extend unto the girl an invitation to join him, he hesitated for a moment as he spared a glance back toward Bellefonte. "I've got an extra mug if you'd like to join me," might as well show some hospitality, "and believe me you, I make the good kind." By 'the good kind', he meant the type of hot chocolate that was so high in calories one probably wouldn't need to eat for the rest of the day. Luckily for Alfred, his body burned calories like a log placed on a well-kindled fire. His face was as solemn as could be, though there was perhaps the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

[Olivia Reese]

Olivia’s expression visibly brightened when he took her apology and answered in kind. She had half expected him to laugh in her face and toss it back at her, so him doing so was a welcome difference from the result her imagination had strung together for her.

“I’m Olivia,” she responded, but immediately regretted doing so. “Or Liv, if you'd like something wit fewer syllables,” she added quickly, having wanted to tell someone that for a while. She closed her eyes and scrunched up her face a little just seconds later, regretting her additional sentence ten times more than the first. Alfred clearly wasn’t a friend, and they clearly weren’t on nickname terms, so that would undoubtedly make things weird, she assumed. Things were so much harder when people weren’t paid to like you, like most of the kids she had played with growing up.

The girl paused for just a minute, considering his offer. On one hand, she would be going inside with a complete stranger that had just seen her fall over, but on the other, she had absolutely no plans for the rest of the day other than studying. Plus, it would be a great way to get in some socialization. And if worst came to worst, they would still be in the school in plain view, and she was fairly sure that she had a whistle, or at least a phone that could emulate the sound of one, on her person somewhere.

“I’d like that,” Olivia matched his hint of a smile and took a step in the direction of the academy.