There is no mistaking the cool breeze against his skin, bringing with it flurries that gently melt on contact. It appears he cannot escape Winter. It is as though the demons are provoking him again, for he had come so close to finally slaying them. Compared to the frigid temperatures of northern Nippon, this weather is considered to be mild. As he reaches the edge of the forest, gazing up at the snow-blanketed branches, he sees a great building that he can only think to consider a status of royalty. The trees outside of the manor are decorated with golds and reds, and there are lights everywhere. He must be far from Kamui, but the only Imperial city with royalty he has heard of is Sei’an, located in the far southwest.
No one appears to be bundled up and crowding into the palace for warmth. Rather, they are all dressed in some form of strange, outlandish attire and appear to be celebrating. Unbeknownst to him, this is an event meant to celebrate a season that has caused his people nothing but bitter grief. Brows furrowed lightly beneath his mask, he folds his arms over his chest, considering whether he should see what this is about. This celebration is so different from what he has seen, making him feel even more like a stranger to these lands.
Abruptly, his thoughts are interrupted when a tightly-packed ball of snow smacks into the back of his head.
The warrior startles somewhat, shoulders tensing as the ball bursts across his back and showers him in white powder. Snow glimmers in his mane of indigo and crimson hair. The cold is not what shocks him, but the audacity of the assailant, and how they had managed to sneak up on him like that. “–Hm?!” Dropping his arms and whipping around to search for the instigator, he looks completely taken back. Who would dare? Is it a child? “Show yourself, or shall I find you and return the attack tenfold by burying you in a blanket of snow?”
Among the laughter and shouting of Snow War participants, some opt to remain quiet in their search for a target. Normally, Amethyst would be the liveliest of the batch, her cavalier attitude on full display, but today is different. Today, she’s out to win.
Playing fair would be nice, but nice doesn’t win the shiny trophy.
Needless to say, the second she spots a standstill participant, her snowball is sent flying in their direction. She isn’t rewarded with a flinch or a groan of defeat, instead the enemy spins around and shows off their interesting costume. Her tuxedo looks better.
She lets out a full belly laugh in response, peeking her head around the hand-piled mound of snow she hid behind. Her hands are still hidden by the hardened snow pile, so she has no trouble rolling up a relatively large snowball.
“That’s kinda the point.” she quips, her snowball now ready for action.
Drawing back so she can stand up tall, she holds tight to her ammo and swings her arm in circles like a professional baseball pitcher. Not a minute later is she stepping into the open, her eyes wide and brows raised. “This one might hurt, so here’s your warning, grumpy guy!”
And then she aims for the weird mask of his.