milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The sun silently beats down on the grounds, waves of heat radiating off of everything. But then, a soft rumble begins. It grows louder and louder, starting in the mountains and crashing down down down until a great roaring avalanche of snow arrives...

The calm returns but the blistering heat is gone. "How's that, Autor?" Mia asks.

The boy smiles shyly at her, his warm, knitted scarf demonstrating a clear gradient of skill from raw novice to advanced beginner. "It's lovely," he says, squeezing her fingers in his gloved ones. "Thank you, Mia." Releasing them, he turns and places a hand on his hip to watch the next step.

At the mouth of the inlet a narrow cliff juts out into the water, covered by a thin layer of soil to which a mat of short grass is clinging, littered with demon bunny droppings. On this ledge, Korra stands, her feet planted firmly against the ground. Starting with that wide stance, Korra moves a foot and then pushes her arms in front and up, causing the lake bed to shift, and the waters to part as a narrow ledge of earth divides a smaller pond away from the larger lake.

Turning into the inlet, she leaps onto the surface and slides out into the center on a shelf of ice that stretches out in larger and larger crystals as it thickens beneath her. In the center of what will be the ice rink, Korra stops, and takes one calm, centering breath.

And then with her eyes closed she moves again, this time much more fluid in her motions, turning a slow circle on the ice with her arms in front of her, swaying as her weight shifts from foot to foot. A bubble of water rises in front of her, and as she pushes out, the bubble expands, passing through Korra so she's standing in the center of an ever expanding air filled bubble of water, stretching further and further out so by the time it hits the shore any onlookers will feel the cool sensation of water vapor from a fountain. She shifts her movement again, and the snowflake patterns of ice crystals appear at the top and the spread around the bubble, crystallizing and solidifying in a lattice of clear ice.

Then Korra opens her eyes, and finishes the rink as she slides back to the shore. There, a further turn and a sweeping gesture towards one side shatters a large hole in the side, perfect for a double door.

"Neat trick, Avatar," Autor says, accompanied by a saucy grin and an informal salute. With a few simple words, Mia sets a flurry fluttering down in the dome.

Once the rink is complete, the boy heads off to help an industrious ten-year-old set up the food and drinks table. There are some things too heavy for Rae to lift.

[Credit to the respective muns for their pups' part in the EP! Standard party post rules apply, all tags welcome.]

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He may not be annoyed with her, but she don't know that for a fact. The continued sighing and moaning finally pulls a Look out of her. She can't figure out what all he's getting at, all things put together.

"I would have. If I could."

He's never shown an interest in coming to Texas. Besides, he's always so busy out in New York, sometimes she wonders if she's always going to be clamoring to keep up with him, catching moments whenever he can slow down for half a breath before he's off again. Seems like they used to have more time.

"Galveston ain't all that rough. You'd do fine."

"Eh, I'd just complain a lot and you'd chuck me back into the bar before I drove you crazy."

A beat.

"I'd still probably give it a go one of these days."

He shifts his gaze from the ice in front of him, to her.

"Have you really been alright?"

He's well aware that he hasn't been around, that they haven't had time to talk. Life doesn't stop when they're out of each other's sight, but it doesn't mean Tommy doesn't think about her.

It takes her a moment to realize he's asked her a question. She's watching the ice in front of her as he speaks, a faint line between her brows.

She glances his way.

"I'm still kickin', aren't I? S'the best I could ask for. I reckon."

For a moment, she doesn't seem too sure.

He purses his lips and nods.

"Yeah. Same here."

They approach one end of the rink where they have to make a turn. Tommy slows down a bit, watching Kate's feet but she seems to be doing okay.

"Listen, I-- um, I forgot to give you something when you were in New York. It's just a little-- something. I don't have it on me now, but I can give it to you later. Or whenever. Next time I see you."

She's getting the hang of turns. Like everything else, it's a work in progress, which is why she slows down a touch and concentrates a little harder leaning into it.

"A li'l — oh?"

Once they're skating straightish again, she furrows her brow at him.

"Ah, all right. Then stop by when y'have a hankerin' to, I s'pose."

She ain't sure what exactly it is he's got. She didn't leave anything there, as far as she noticed. Maybe he just needs a reason to come 'round these days.

"'Kay. Sometime soon, then."

Thing is, he always has a hankering. Just that lately, he's never sure if she wants to be alone or not. It's been that kind of a month.

He's still watching her skate.

"Y'know, if you do happen to fall, I might be compelled to help you up, which would mean, y'know, making contact."

Did he just jinx her?

Her lips twitch.

She doesn't look at him, because once she does she's not going to be able to hide the affection in her eyes, or the knee-jerk sauciness her countenance takes on whenever they're teasing each other.

"Would it, now?"

Hmm, that is a good point. What a tragedy that would be.

"Guess we'll hafta be careful, then."

Especially once they reach that next turn.

He can still hear the teasing in her voice. He's missed that.

"Right. And it ain't like I'd deliberately bump into you just to make you lose your balance so you could grab my arm to keep from falling, either. 'Cause I wouldn't do that."

Oh, wouldn't he.

She looks shocked.

"You wouldn't dare."

He's far too much of a gentleman for that. White hat and all.

"'Course not, honey! Never. Not me. Uh-uh. 'Specially not in front of all these people. We've gotta be-- y'know, proper."

He bites his lip to force back a smirk and a snicker on the word 'proper.'

She finds the strength of will not to roll her eyes at him, but it takes a lot of effort. She'll pinch him black and blue later, once they're alone.

"You're terrible. Positively terrible."

She means he's terrible at keeping things a secret. He's got all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, and probably couldn't give her the definition of 'proper' if he tried. She honestly doesn't know what she's to do with him.

They take the corner, and her blade catches a shallow rut. There's the slice and scuffle of a wobbly-footed struggle to stay upright, and an undignified squeak as she topples toward him.

Maybe he takes pride in being terrible. She could just be encouraging him when she points it out like that.

And actually, he honestly wouldn't have deliberately knocked into her; he would've just waited for her to fall down on her own.

He doesn't expect her to do it so soon, though.

"Whoa--!"

Grabbing her, he steadies her as they come to a stop. Once he's sure her feet won't slide out from under her, he-- well, he'll just keep holding her for a couple moments more.

"You didn't do that on purpose, didja?"

There's always that brief moment of panic when you're falling and you realize you have two sharp knives strapped to your body.

"I'll never tell."

She's breathless, but underneath that her words lilt coyly. He'll have to make up his own mind on what happened.

He breathes out a chuckle. Whether or not she slipped on purpose, she isn't shying away from his touch.

(It is a party. People are supposed to mingle.)

But he lets her go before too long, one hand lingering at the small of her back. For the sake of her balance. Or just because.

"You okay now?"

She finds her feet, gliding ever so slowly across the ice. The hand at her back doesn't go unnoticed, a warmth and support she doesn't need but relishes all the same.

"I'm fine. No bruised egos or twisted ankles."

Her fingers tuck into his sleeve, just until she's got some momentum going again.

"I'd like t'join your game someday. Once I can skate well 'nough t'juggle a stick."

It surprises him a bit when she grasps his sleeve, but he appreciates it for as long as she holds on. Eventually he drops his hand from her back, and they skate on, maybe a little closer than before, close enough that the backs of their hands occasionally brush against one another as they move. (They are breaking so many rules.)

"Sure. Maybe by the time winter rolls around and the lake freezes on its own. And I could teach you better than that other guy anyways."

She breathes a soft laugh.

"Be nice. He's a sweet man, an' I've gotta feelin' Mr. Stark has his eye on another lady, anyhow."

She doesn't bring up the way he's flirted with her in the past, or how she's got this feeling he's like Tommy in that he appreciates too many women to settle on just one. That would be silly.

"Y'should let him into your game. Be friendly."

He only twists his lips and shakes his head with a bit of an eyeroll. Those kinds of guys are the worst. Tommy would know.

"Hey, I got no problem playing with a pretty boy, but I ain't gonna be the one to ask. He wants to join in? Fine, he can be my guest."

"You think he's pretty?"

She's amused.

Lineface.

"No. It's slang. For a guy who, y'know, dresses up and uses hair products and is all neat and well-groomed and whatever."

She's ignoring him.

"Oh, Tommy, I figured y'were jealous but I jus' assumed it was over me. I had no idea y'were keen on Mr. Stark, an' I promise I only had the most innocent of intentions with him—"

Moar linefacing.

"Uh-huh. Funny. That's funny, Kate. Very funny. You know that's not what I meant. Can we drop it now?"

He's grumbling over her.

She goes on and on, up until he asks if they can drop it. Then she laughs.

"You're comin' t'see me later, then?"

The reply is immediate, right off the tail of her laughter.

"Yes, I'm comin' to see you later."

There's some reluctant amusement in his voice as the corners of his mouth twitch.

"I can bring up some dinner or something, too, if you want. Maybe some hot chocolate, even though it's the middle of summer here. Skating and cocoa just go together, I guess."

"Shh."

There's a tremor in the sound from unuttered snickering. He gets a little loud when he's emphatic, and they are trying to be discreet. As much as anything with Thomas Gavin can be discreet.

"Y'don't hafta do that, unless y'want to."

Her disinterest in food is always the biggest indicator in how her mood's been.