#philiaes

[eachdawn]

[ SNOWBALL ] - "Catch! ♪"

The warning comes from nowhere and everywhere, and is punctuated with the sound of laughter as a half-formed snowball bursts into flurries the same shade as the hair they land in. This is simply the nature of a story such as theirs, picked back up as easily as a conversation no matter the tragedy between the lines of dialogue.

As such is her cue, Cyrene enters stage right with her fingers knitted behind her back, the smattering of snowflakes on her gloves a betrayal to the innocence in the fluttering of her lashes. She is smiling to her eyes, all the warmth that their backdrop lacks.

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist. How was my throw?" And then that laughter bridges to something softer, impossibly fond. Hundreds of thousands of lifetimes worth of weight to the gentle sway in her words. "It's so strange, to see you here."

He will understand what she means, she trusts. That here is anywhere other than the earth beneath Amphoreus's sky, that here is somewhere beyond what might have once been fate.

"You practically blend right in~"

it's so strange, to see you here.

the cold of compact snow seeps through his hair quickly as phainon turns around to see where it came from; pale blue eyes widen, blink quickly, not sure how or where or why or... a hand reaches up to dust the remaining snow away from where it's sticking to hair at the back of his head as she speaks in a voice so uncanny, it's nearly unnerving. and when phainon finally replies, he doesn't echo the remark that stuck with him the most. "I was actually just thinking of trying to sneak up on some bears to observe them outside the city, didn't seem like I'd truly need a change of wardrobe..." words trail off into a quiet chuckle, and he shakes his head before looking down and away to the snow beneath his feet.

( it seems entirely possible she won't be there when he looks up again, somehow. if so, that would be perfectly fine... wouldn't it? )

knees bend as phainon's hands reach down into the snow, then start cupping a fair amount to form a little ball of his own before he continues speaking. "what brings you to the frigid jarilo-iv, cyrene? were you here for the earlier festivities, too? if so, I don't think I saw you around... there were some good food stands in the city plaza that I'd love to visit again, but I suppose those need to shut down for now." the sphere of soft ice in his own palms is nearly complete, perfect, just barely indented with the shape of his own fingers. then, posture straightens again.

--- he's almost afraid to look up in earnest.

but ---

phainon tosses the snowball in his hand, up and down... then makes a different offer. "think you could actually catch it, without the surprise involved? I've seen some of the children around here playing this game, and it seems they can't be caught... maybe you could be the exception."

and, at last, the snowball flies.

[trailblczed]

[ SONG ] - Someone strums a mellow chord on what might be an old guitar and it's a tale as old as time itself, the gathering of bodies to dance, and then around them to watch or perhaps provide a buffer from the cold. Cyrene picks through people as though without purpose, but she knows exactly for whom she's looking.

And she finds him with ease, a star unrivaled in its brightness, so that she might tap her finger on a gray sleeve, smile already bright where it waits for him to turn and find it.

"Miss me, friend?"

And where it might have been teasing, it is instead utterly sincere. The first blossom of spring still despite the world's insistence on its delay, only the flower a girl and her petals this reunion. She searches his face, not quite setting it to memory but rather holding it up against, comparing him in this moment to him in a hundred others.

It is like stepping through his memories together, only instead of an eternal yesterday, they are allowed now.

"Go on, you should dance!" A nudge with her shoulder, a breath of laughter. "Who knows when the next time you'll see something like this will be? Best not let the moment pass you by~"

Snowswept StampCard 4(2)/5 | accepting

Jarilo may be cold, but Caelus has never thought the planet as such. There is too much life in the land for it to be anything but warm and cozy. He would say it's always far too friendly, but that might be a tad more debatable- the OG trio had been labeled criminals day one, though had turned into close allies after things had been cleared up and settled.

That is nothing to say of the way folks come together so easily, whether to restore the land or whether to enjoy a festival with music and dance. Caelus barely hears instruments being played as people cluster together and move as one, prancing about as if there were no troubles in the cosmos ( oh how Caelus wishes that were true- ).

The Nameless isn't necessarily interested in participating himself, mostly just because he doesn't have the energy at the moment ( seems like nappie-time is coming up soon.. probably should send a text to Welt to let him know about the spontaneous power-down ). But opinions and desires can change in an instant. Such occurs when a comforting voice follows a gentle tug at his coat sleeve, and the soft expression of amusement meets his own shocked in desbelief and excited one.

His features shift into one of slight-smugness as an entertaining thought comes to the troublemaker. One of his hands is already reaching for one of the maiden's own, with the other moving a tad further down to rest an open palm near the middle of Cyrene's back. With a dancer's grace and a gentle tug, Caelus drags the woman along with him as he spins around to the music that echos in the lively square.

❛ You're right, you should dance. You might miss the chance to do so. ❜

Of course he missed her. After almost a year of having someone constantly by your side, to then jump to never having them around.. How could he not have missed her?

❛ Don't worry. Even if you have two left feet, I'll guide you along.. just like you always did for me. ❜