summertime chill // OPEN (Event)

[nosotros]

Who: Everyone!
Where: Downtown
When: June 24th, evening
Summary: Ice pixies are such jerks
Rating: PG-13

It should have been a nice balmy evening. Instead it's chilly, and only getting colder.

Throughout downtown various civilians are asleep on their feet. In some cases literally. What's more the ice pixies, little humanoid creatures that look like tiny and slightly spiny ice sculptures, are out in force, flitting about in groups of two and three and generally causing problems.

But the citizens of El Sera aren't alone. The magic stirring in the air calls out to the mages and magical boys in the city, seeking to draw them out of their homes and to the defense of the city...

(ooc: Go nuts, guys! You're free to NPC the ice pixies on your own, as I won't have time to reliably do so myself. However, I can provide prompts, IC stumbling blocks, or other tools for you to play with on request!)

Comments

open!

[oakleaf]

[Well, it could be worse.]

[Hakuren could have been wearing shorts.]

[His new magical form is bit odd, a bit over formal, and a bit too casual all at once, somehow. He can't help but appreciate the ribbon tie around his throat, and the shoes on his feet are well-fitting and comfortable, and the fabric of his vest is just the right combination of soft, sturdy, and textured enough for Mikage to keep his balance.]

[Hakuren lurks, baculus in hand, near the front gate of the school. It's late enough and cold enough that the majority of the other school residents are already asleep--so as far as Hakuren knows, it's just him out and about and hunting for the source of this cold snap.]

Open!

[amnesiadragon]

[Ryu can feel something tugging him, and so he heads outside. It's not the same pulling that'd been drawing him to Fou-Lu, but it's similar. The cold hits him in a wave, though, and he finds a place to transform without disturbing people.]

[He's grateful that this form is more resistant to the cold, and he speeds off towards where he can sense the magic. If his outfit isn't enough to draw strange looks, the horns in his hair and wings on his back probably are.]

OPEN (John could use a rescue)

[warmgun]

[John's careful not to bother Elijah as he slips on his jacket and heads out of the apartment. He doubts the other man will care all that much, but he'd rather not cause an undue fuss. There's something calling to John outside, though he can't place it - like a shadow flickering at the edges of his vision. What he does know is that it's much too cold for summer.

As soon as he's stepped out of the door, it becomes apparent that the temperatures aren't the only problem. There's a wreck in the middle of the street. Several of them, in fact. John hurries to the nearest car and clears away the frost on the window. There are a man and woman inside just keeled over. They don't appear to be hurt, though. John bangs on the window.]

Oi! Are you, all right?

[They don't respond, and he's about to go for the handle when he feels something very like ice water trickle down his spine. It makes him feel tired, somehow. Hypothermia? John shakes his head sharply and whirls around to see...]

What the hell?

[His hand goes to his service pistol where it's shoved into the back of his jeans. What are those things? Fairies? Is he hallucinating? One of them raises a delicate hand and another wash of intense cold moves over him. John shivers. Not good. Very not good. He starts shooting.]

OPEN

[crotesque]

[He misses Wolf Trap already. It was his home base, his nest, his hideaway. His dogs are there and he's wondering who's feeding them, but he knows that if he's missing Hannibal or Alana or Jack will go do it because... (Because they're his family. His rock. His stability, but he shies away from saying such things unless Hannibal makes him.) It's not much of a comfort, however, as he misses the dogs, their feet on the floor and the sound of their breathing and barking. It was an ambient noise of life and well-being that Will used to recharge himself.

Now it's just empty, and he's wary of this roommate that he doesn't know. He'd rather not hang around there, so despite the cold, he heads out. He uses what small amount of coin he has to buy some hot coffee and walks, trying to get acquainted with El Sera. But it isn't Wolf Trap. It isn't home and he feels like a child again, from town to town, always a stranger. He huddles down into his jacket.

The first snowball hits him at a corner and he winces, but not angrily. It takes more than a snowball to incite him, and he turns. He expects a child and finds nothing there at all. A snowball hits him from another direction. It doesn't bother him, immediately, and he steps off the sidewalk, looking for the children. Maybe if he'd have found them, he'd have set his coffee down and played with them. Children were so much easier to deal with than adults and something as mindless as a snowball fight might have made him feel a bit more at peace on a difficult day.

There aren't any children, however. And eventually, he catches sight of the pixies against the snow. The first one startles him terrible, and he throws the hot coffee all over a small swarm of them. They shriek and sink into the snow writhing. The buzz of their brethren is audible, like bees, and the onslaught of attacks comes more heavily laden with ice. It starts to sting and he ducks down, fleeing.

They're driving him towards the lake.]