The Cold DOES Bother Me, Thanks

[Maeve Connolly]

I’ve officially switched her status to spinster, so why not try hurling(ish)? Male, 28+, and able to handle (or piss off, I’d take either) Maeve. Marital status does not matter to me, and nor does class!

Which fool in scheduling had she angered, Maeve wondered as she made her way down the High Street.  Instead of celebrating her birthday at Connolly House with the rest of her family (who she half expected to be celebrating in her absence regardless), the auror had been posted to help oversee the New Year’s Eve festivities. Cold and feeling decidedly unfestive, it was with anticipation that Maeve awaited the stroke of midnight—and her inevitable freedom to return home.

But something was amiss.

The familiar-ish boom of the fireworks sounded, but instead of the expected cascade of lights, it was snow that rained down on the spectators below. The flakes formed shapes in the air above much as lights would, the moon shining behind them to illuminate—mind you, to a lesser extent—the spectacle. As the last boom faded, however, the snow did not. If anything, the newfound quiet seemed to rile the flakes up further, and Maeve realized very quickly that this was not what one would consider normal.

A strong wind aided the snow’s cause, prompting the petite witch—and many of those around her—to seek shelter. It was the same wind that she would later blame for slipping on the icy cobbles below (it threw her off balance, of course), sending the witch sprawling backwards into the snow.

  

[James Monroe]

James was enjoying the evening, despite the cold. He didn't generally like being this far from home this late--though, to be fair, he rarely had a reason for it--but it was hard not to get into the festive spirit of things.

His initial thought as the snow came down was that it was a clever play on "fireworks." Unexpected, a bit amusing, and James supposed pretty in its own sort of way. He assumed that was the intent, at least until it became clear that the snow was not going to stop, and indeed began to intensify.

James headed for shelter, debating as he did so simply apparating home. He could well imagine the snow becoming even more of a nuisance before someone sorted it out. That seemed to be how inconveniences went.

Before he could do so however, James spotted a woman just ahead taking a tumble on the icy cobblestones. Moving towards her, he reached her just in time to miss being able to lend a hand before she hit the ground. Oops. Reaching out a hand to Miss Connolly--who he recognized only as he bent down toward her--James asked, "Are you all right?"

  

[Maeve Connolly]

Merlin help her, it was Monroe—while she did not know the wizard particularly well, that it had been a colleague of sorts who was now ‘rescuing’ her grated on her pride horribly, and Maeve could already envision the snickers around the office when she returned to Headquarters.

“No harm done, I’m sure,” she replied with a polite smile, the cold having brought a red tinge to her cheeks long before her present blush could set in.

Stubbornly, the redhead ignored the offered hand as she moved to return to her feet, the cold from the ground biting into her palms even through her gloves. Her effort at regaining dignity proved futile, however: slipping once again in her efforts, Maeve was forced to grab not only Monroe’s hand, but almost the whole arm to stop from falling once again.

@'James Monroe'

  

[James Monroe]

"Whoa there," James said, doing his best to keep Miss Connolly upright. It was lucky she was so much smaller than he was, considering. "Perhaps small steps are in order," he suggested. It was damned cold, but at least they would be less likely to take a tumble.

  

[Maeve Connolly]

She waited until she was sure of her balance before relinquishing his arm with an awkward murmur of apology.

“If I weren’t terrified of waking up as a snow man,” she added, “I would simply stay rooted here—it seems walking is more dangerous a task than chasing dark wizards.”