14029/An Afternoon Run

An Afternoon Run
Date of Scene:	20 December 2021
Location:	Washington Sq. Park - Greenwich Village
Synopsis:	Pietro unexpected meets Liansong in a park in Greenwich Village and ends up with a small project out of the exchange.
Cast of Characters:	Quicksilver, Liansong "Song" Qing

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Quicksilver has posed:
There's no great surprise in the fact that Pietro has been running. It's something that he does very often, and generally tirelessly. And the snow that's been falling doesn't bother him in the slightest, though there are places that it swirls up behind him in a skittering cloud of white. He's already made a lap around part of the city, letting his feet carry him where they will without giving his destination much in the way of conscious thought. His part of his usual rounds, though he never follows a particular route each day.

And here is where he's ended up, for this afternoon. This particular park. Why here? Random chance! He wears a dark blue and grey shirt with long sleeves, his thumbs tucked through holes there near the wrist. He stops not far within the park, and he lifts his left hand to lightly pull his fingers through his white hair, tussling it slightly before lowering his hand again. A pair of black pants and light grey shoes completes his outfit. He exhales a breath that fogs in the air, and he takes a glance across the park before heading further within at a more sedate pace than what his usual one tends to be.

Liansong "Song" Qing has posed:
By contrast, Liansong is not running. No, he's flying. When you have wings, why would you bother with running if you don't have to? He's coming down toward the park, however. It's a nice clear area to land and a new place to explore. But there's snow, so he can't be seen coming down. With his silent flight owl feathers, he can't be heard either. That coupled with his snow white feathers and, today, white attire, heavy where it doesn't impair his flying, and he looks rather like some spirit or apparition coming down from the sky.

He lands just in front of Pietro, and stands there panting, half crouched. This puts him just a little shorter than the white haired man. And then he starts dancing. "Oh, cold feet! Cold feet!" His Australian accent is quite plain to be heard.

Quicksilver has posed:
Running isn't a bad second to flying, given the speeds that Pietro can reach. Though snow dusts him, the fine flakes of it have a tendency to become lost in his white hair rather than stand out. That some of his senses are hampered by the falling snow doesn't seem to particularly bother him. If he needs a quick escape, then that's generally always an option for him. He doesn't see or hear the owl... person... what-should-he-call-it-anyways... until it literally lands right in front of him. That's... startling!

Pietro takes a quick step and a half back, the movement light, and one of his hands comes part way up in a slightly defensive sort of manner. Unexpected things warrant certain reactions. One of his eyebrows quirks up and he tilts his head a touch to one side, looking over the... avian. Avian seems right enough, to his way of thinking. Or owlkin. It might be more accurate, all things considered. Right! His gaze flicks briefly over the avian, taking that moment to make an assessment. "Snow," Pietro says, giving a glance to the ground before he looks up towards the avian's face. "It kinda does that cold thing," he adds. There is tone of that he's well aware he's being an obvious ass with his choice of words.

Wanda isn't here, so he might get away with it. Except Wanda might be here and he just can't see her. Or she could be in his head. Damn it! "The ground isn't frozen yet, if you stand still then the snow will melt and your feet will get warm again," he offers, his right hand making a slight gesture towards the ground at the avian's feet. That's a bit better, at least.

Liansong "Song" Qing has posed:
Liansong likely wouldn't have any objections to the reaction that had occured. Afterall, if some apparition had appeared out of nowhere in front of him, he might have had the same reaction. The owl's ear-tufts, and the rest of his feathers, all flatten for half a second before fluffing right back out. Those large crystal blue eyes narrow in that way only owls can do. It leaves him looking displeased. "No shite, Sherlock," he says, tone on the sarcastic end of thigns. "I'm from Oz, not Africa. We do get snow, in the high country, y'know."

The owl snorts and his eyes go back to what they'd been before. The nictating membrane does its thing, going across them to keep the snow out. "And it might not be frozen, but it's close enough to it that my feet aren't going to get warm. It's a nice thought, though. Remind me again why I landed?" This seems to have been asked of the heavens, as Liansong's face turns upward to look toward the sky.

Quicksilver has posed:
Flat ear tufts, flat feathers. What does Pietro know about birds? There are a lot of things that he's read some things about and some things that he's read not a lot about. But there's something about the fluffed out feathers that brings to mind that those are likely better than flattened out ones. Not to mention that fluffed out feathers are likely warmer for the avian. At least, if he remembers right. He snorts at the avian's reaction, then gives a short nod, his blue gaze holding steady on the feathered one. "Sure. Victoria's Alpine Region, the mountains of Tasmania, and the Snowy Mountains in New South Wales. Most of the rest of it doesn't get much below twenty-four Celcius or so," Pietro comments. There's a bit of an accent to his words, though it likely comes across as sounding Russian.

He's trying not to be a smart ass, but sometimes... he really can't help himself. "Snow happens almost every year on some of the mountains of South Africa. Cedarberg and around Ceres in the South Western Cape, and on the Drakensberg in Natal and Lesotho," he adds, a bit of a grin tugging the corners of his lips. The fingers of his left hand fidget a bit, his hand lifting to brush a bit of snow from his shirt before his fingers toy a bit with the cuff. He gives a bit of a chuckle and lifts a shoulder in a bit of a shrug. "You are likely right, about the ground temperature. It is likely still pretty damn cold," he comments, agreeing on that.

"A blanket or some other sort of padding to stand on would likely help in this weather," he says in a thoughtful tone. Then he tilts his head a bit to one side. "Or some kind of open toed sort of sock to leave your talons free, flexible material sort of thing," he adds. With four toes. That would have to be a custom job. Now that's something to think on! "If you wanted to go for that sort of thing, anyways," he comments. He softly clears his throat and then offers out his right hand. "Pietro Maximoff," he offers, by way of introduction. See? He's being polite!

Liansong "Song" Qing has posed:
To be fair, Liansong was sarcastic first. So the man being a smart ass? Really is fair. He snorts but doesn't comment. He'd known Africa has some places that get snow. They just aren't very common. Like Australia's snowy places aren't very common.

"Never had a problem before. Gonna have to do something now. Maybe modified gloves of some sort. It's either that, or I'm never leaving home beyond going to the office until it's warmer again." Liansong fluffs his feathers out and shakes himself good.

Something beeps from within his close and he digs taloned hand within to pull out a phone. He glances at it and clacks his beak. He stuffs it back into the pocket from whense it had come when the hand is offered to him. "Liansong Qing," he supplies. "Pleasure, Pietro. But I must be off. Good day t'ya, mate." He clacks his beak once more before spreading those great white wings of his. With several wing beats and a thrust of his legs to propell him into the air, Liansong soon disappears from sight into the swirling snow.

Quicksilver has posed:
It was deserved! Sometimes smart-assery is, he just sometimes manages to bite it off and keep it from happening. Punishment from the Scarlet Witch is a good deterrent! Especially since there are so many ways that she could choose to deliver it. He can't help but to grin at the snort that his comment had earned. "I read," Pietro comments, then lifts his left hand in a slight gesture. "A lot, and about a lot of things," he adds. And he reads quickly, as well.

"If you plan on staying around here, you will want to do something to keep warm in the snow. There are times it is worse than this. A lot of times, actually. And sometimes, a lot worse than this is now," Pietro offers, by way of advice. "It would be a shame to be stuck indoors all through the winter. Modified gloves, perhaps. It could work. They would need to be larger, though. Probably," he comments. He's giving this a bit more thought, now. This might be something that turns out to be project worthy, if he can get a fair imprint of the footprint left behind. "Pleasure is mine, Liansong. Good day to you as well," he says, giving a nod. He takes a step back when Liansong takes off, watching until the avian is out of sight. "Interesting," he says quietly, to himself. Then he looks to the footprints left behind, to get a good feel for their size and what have you. Only once he's satisfied will he take off himself, though he keeps to the ground rather than the skies, using the running to give more thought to the puzzle of keeping the avian's feet warm.