[open] do you want to...?

[seeingscarlet]

Who:a Wanda Maximoff & you!
When: December 13, evening
Where: The mess hall
What: It seemed such a shame to let all that snow go to waste...
Warnings: Probable silliness and general shenanigans. Maybe watch for snowballs?

There was really only so much one could do to clean the mess hall at this point. There was snow in here, of all things, to say nothing about the underlying layer of ice.

And still the captains had done nothing about the mess.

There's a grumpy-looking pile of blankets sitting on a table while she waits for coffee to brew. Wanda doesn't even want coffee but it's the fastest way to start feeling vaguely more like a human and less like a popsicle. It's strange - she's always loved playing in the snow but right now she's too cold and tired to really move from that spot without better motivation.

But that does give her an idea, or at least a challenge. Can she telekinetically build a snowman, even a small one? She gestures, pushes a pile of snow together successfully - and then the blankets just slide off her shoulders. None of the Moira's crew can catch a break, it seems.

Find Wanda fussing with the blankets or trying again. She's struggling but this (maybe a bit lopsided) snowman is happening.

Comments

[seeingscarlet]

"Normally you would use your hands...but you would also be wearing gloves." She's wearing the leather glovettes from her Scarlet Witch uniform, but she had nothing for her exposed fingers. "I wanted to see if I could do it this way."

She does not pull away at Bel's closeness, but it's enough to make her turn from her work. Wanda has no aversion to it, but ever since the experiments she's used to being literally at arm's length until people come to trust her. And in actually looking at Bel, she realizes something.

"You have never made a snowman?" It's only barely a question; Wanda's pretty sure she knows the answer. That or this attempt is so bad that it's really that unrecognizable.

[hellsbel]

"Born on a hot desert planet, lived in space ever since. I've never even seen a snowman." Bel grins. "In the flesh, anyway." Vids and documentaries don't count. Wasn't snow supposed to be wetter, sticky, not this much like sand? Memories of the colony are still vivid, even thirty years later, intricately designed underground cities centuries old and forever reinventing themselves, safe from scouring storms and killing sun. Deep, dry, bittersweet.

Bel's gloves are also fingerless; the chilled hands pause on the cloak's shoulders, making sure Wanda doesn't mind having someone so near and smiling when her pause is a question rather than discomfort. As many strange things as they've seen since arriving here, her power is too beautiful to fear. Maybe if wielded by someone inclined to abuse it -- but not by her.