#bdrpsnow

@herculeskouros

Persephone had always loved the snow.

Hades watched it fall all through the night, the outside light crystallizing each flake in the air as it spun and flurried down from the dark clouds. They looked like falling stars to him. He imagined Seph would have pressed her hands against the glass and whispered wishes, just like they were. She was that kind of girl-- a girl with wishes and dreams, unlike Hades, who just had goals. There was a difference. And so this snowfall was meant for a girl like her.

With the sky began to lighten, world still grey outside, Hades got up and slipped out of bed for the first time since he’d returned to the house following the Gates. He had slept fitfully, like always; his fatigue clung to him and made his movements clumsy. But he managed not to wake Belle. He couldn’t wake Belle. He still couldn’t face her.

Besides, he was going out in the snow for Sephy--

The thought stopped itself dead in its tracks as the door creaked open and clicked shut, each sound sharp and metallic.  Hades was going out in the snow for himself, and he knew it. He was looking for Seph in wherever she may be found. In poetry. In quiet. In the snow. He missed his sister, and he would miss her every time to breathed in. Half of him had been stolen.

He closed his hand over the freezing doorknob, felt the cool ebb away under his heat. The air could barely touch him.

Hades’ feet crunched through the fresh fallen snow, leaving his footprints behind him. The snow landed delicate on his hair and shoulders. By the time he would return, those footprints, that trail, would be covered up again like he’d never moved through the world at all.

Eventually, he made it to town, where it was deadly quiet, everyone still asleep. It reminded him of a graveyard. Soon the children would pour out the doors, the sun would crack through the clouds-- by that time, Hades was planning to be far gone, back in his room.

Jiji had known before anyone else. After all, it was what familiars did best, especially a cat like him. He raised his nose up from his favourite armchair and Kiki watched as his nose twitched in the air. “Open a window,” he commanded at once, as he jumped up to all fours. Kiki scampered to the window sill to do just that. As the cold air seeped in, Jiji let out a loud, satisfied meow, tail curling in the air.

“Master Howl, Miss Kiki, I am delighted to inform you that the very first snow of winter is on its way!” He crowed.

Howl took off at once of course, and so did Kiki. Last night, they’d sailed together through pitch-black, up toward the clouds as the Jack Frost wind nipped at their noses. But when the first snowflake fell, they were there to collect it. It shone like a jewel in Howl’s little bottle.

“This really is the most magical time of year,” declared Jij when they came back in, snow stuck in their hair, just as Howl gave her a list of things to collect on the morrow. Yes-- magical indeed. Kiki smiled large, clutching her little list, and barely slept that night. She just watched the snow collect on her windowsill.

But morning was here and Kiki was out now, decked in her ingredient-hunting best. She’d gotten lots of gasps and delighted laughs, which were very rare-- you had happy laughs and amused laughs, but true delight was sneaky and quick, and could take many different shapes and sounds. It could be quiet in the corners of a person’s smile, or bubbling in the centre of a giggle. But when it snowed, delight ran amuck. Kiki felt it in her own chest, like a little filly kicking up her legs. She saw it explode like little firecrackers on Jiji’s toes, as he pounced on snowflakes or tried to swat them out of the air.

And then Kiki saw it-- wonderment. It caught her eye, turned her head and made her lips part, a puff of breath curling in the air. It emanated from a woman with dark hair and sun-skin, who was standing perfectly still, looking up as the snow fell from the sky like she’d never seen it before.

“Oh, Jiji, look at that,” breathed out Kiki. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Pure, unabashed wonderment,” Jiji meowed, prancing to her side. “Kiki, you simply most collect that. Wonderment is one of the most--”

“--rare, powerful ingredients, I know,” said Kiki. “But I don’t think I--I’ll ruin it if I just--”

“-- if you take it without sharing in it, I know,” said Jiji. “Well-- go on then!” He nudged the back of her ankle. “You can’t let it go!”

“R-right, right!” said Kiki and she crunched her way through the snow toward the woman.

@lipsasredasblooddd

It had taken some time before she had found the home that Eva had made for herself. It took more time before she discovered that her beloved had found herself a pet. How revolting. Rhiannon lurked a distance away, having kept a watchful eye over them to judge just how close the two even were. What she saw filled her with such a rage that she wanted to make it so that the entire town ran with rivers of blood. It took her far longer than usual to calm herself down from this. But why should she have to? Some bitch had decided she could get her grubby little hands on Rhiannon’s love. The bitch was going to die. But first, there would be suffering. Rhiannon would have to learn as much as she could about her. She found out a few things from observation: the woman was beautiful but not nearly worthy for someone as perfect as Eva. She would have to be brought down a peg. And soon. For now, she found herself trailing the path of the bitchy replacement lover. She thought of all kinds of different ways she would end her as they walked, though she was careful to make her presence unnoticed. She kept enough paces back, and she took a vested interest in things she passed by. There was no need to get careless. She waited a good amount of time to follow the woman into the theater, rolling her eyes at the whole thing. As if a thief like her could be allowed any special talents. She snuck into the building, taking her time until she came into the theater. There was no rush for this conversation. She waited until the woman was in the middle of the piece before she made her way down into the theater, giving a half-assed clap. “Bravo. I never thought I would live to see the day someone ruined such a proliphic piece. Beethoven must be weeping.”