[Location]

[theextras]

It's the second day of the heavier snow. Taxon citizens are still moving about their business-- trudging through the deepening snow-- and Taxonian children are out on the white streets, school canceled for the day. Many of Taxon's broader streets have been turned into impromptu sledding areas, or battlegrounds for snowball wars.

At least at first. As the day carries on-- and the snow continues to fall, soft and silent, even the most exuberant of children begin to drift inside for hot cocoa and the chance to warm up.

The late afternoon sky is gray with clouds that promise no respite anytime soon. Sunlight seems a vague memory, and the white flakes continue to drift down... and down... and down.

Comments

[visual]

[genequeen]

"Hey everyone, this is starting to look like a serious freeze. I'm from a place that has cold and snow like this. Is there a house with a fireplace and doors and windows that seal well? It will be very important if this lasts for more than a day or so," Madelyne says. She's not exactly a leader type but she has lived through this sort of thing, at least.

"We don't all have to join up together but it would be... well... it would be good to know everyone is warm."

[8th - hungover shenans]

[hasaheart]

Let it be known that Cain's timing sucks like an industrial vacuum machine. It sucks like...like...

No.

Just. No.

His head feels like he's volunteered it for anvil practice, he can't see a damn thing for all the stark white everywhere, and his footing is shot enough even without a bajillion cubic whatevers of snow.

He stumbles down the streets, half arm in arm, half leaning into his partner-in-really-epically-stupid-crime. Him and Glitch, both attempting to make their way home after a night of commiseration at the Black Friar(read: boozeaholic indulgence in honor of everyone who's gone (but especially Az)).

"Fuck this shit," he groans for the umpteenth time. "Fuck my life. Gods, this was such a shitty idea."

[9th - in which Cain says ffff this weather]

[hasaheart]

This time of year, this winter-darkness-icy time of year, as all the veterans of Taxon will tell the newcomers, is never a good time of year.

Cain's first post-Annual's End* winter, they got hit by a zombie invasion. Last winter, it was ghostly sightings escalating into what you Othersiders might call a sci-fi/horror dreamscape, complete with an alternate reality and homicidal Extras wearing the faces of those you've left behind.

This year seems benign enough, which is why Wyatt isn't buying it for one godsbedamned second.

Mid-morning, he's packing a suitcase (for spare clothes including scarves and hats and thermal-under-whatsits), and a duffel bag full of perishables. Then he gives Paul a call, just as a heads up. "I don't trust this damn weather," is the first thing out of his mouth when Paul picks up. "It's only gonna get worse from here, I can feel it. I'm coming over."

And he's bringing his shotgun.