Welcome to Gaia! ::

Could this really be considered field training? Them at a ski resort, really?

Who's bloody idea was it anyway they go to a ski resort in Kodo's only mountain chain? What flippin' fool thought it smart, for a damn grunt who specializes in fire, to drag her along as if it was going to be fun?

Warmth left her body like rationality swirling down a drain. It was below zero, snow was coming down like dandruff from the great unwashed and she couldn't stand it!

Literally!

"Argh!" cried Len as she toppled to the snow for the forty effin' time that day. They had only arrived a few hours and the snow was already thick enough to swallow her whole. It was already eating her boots by the mouthfuls! Other grunts too were around, possibly suffering as much as she.

Maybe even some were enjoying it, but she wasn't. Not even Hestia, whose body temperature had risen tenfold due to the drop in surrounding air. She was melting paths in the snow, leaving watery footsteps in her wake. Even snowflakes sizzled when they touched her fur, which really wasn't a pleasant feeling.

"Gruff!" she cried when Len fell, nosing her way into the thick binding of a white scarf. "Gruff!" She couldn't let her only source of food die!

Isadora really didn't mind the snow. In fact, she rather enjoyed it. Having grown up in a rather temperate climate, snow was a joyous thing to behold, and being out and about in it was just gravy on the potatoes. True, it was very cold, and Isadora had dressed accordingly: two layers of thick tights, a warm cashmere dress, earmuffs, gloves, boots, and even a large coat on top. Even so, the cold was bracing, and thus did Isadora turn to Iditarod for warmth.

The Arcanine was loving the snow. She pranced about the powder happily, catching snowflakes on her large tongue. Isadora thought it fitting that the Pokemon would like such as thing as the cold, having been named for a famous snow-race in one of the coldest places on earth. Currently, Isadora had taken to riding on Iditarod's back, simultaneously keeping herself warm and keeping the large Pokemon in line.

Also, without telling anyone, Isadora had packed a pair of ice skates along with the rest of her things. Just because they were on "field training" didn't mean that she could not have fun! After all, she only joined Team Rocket to help those troubled people therein, so really, the training had little to do with her. She did not complain, though. Best to stay on the good side of the Powers That Be.

Together, the two snow-lovers walked about the resort, looking for they-didn't-really-know-what. Isadora was searching for wherever the skating rink might be, and Iditarod was looking for some food [and perhaps a snowman to pounce]. Neither were having much luck. In her search, though, Isadora did find someone... Someone she didn't really recall seeing before, but one that she faintly recognized from the HQ. Was it another Grunt...? Whoever he was, he seemed to be aiming a snowball at another person, who was having difficulty in traversing the snow. Isadora raised an eyebrow and, after dismounting her trusty steed Arcanine, spoke to the man.

"Uhm... 'Scuse me, buht is thaht realleh nehcessary?"

Oh face shot! Had she not turn around at just the wrong moment it would have hit her in the back, and possibly gotten down her jacket, but this was even better as far as Panther was concerned. The older rocket's childing did little to damping his good mood. "Yes I'm pretty sure it was." he grinned, pleased with himself, with all the vigor of a ten year old boy. Until the now steaming girl launched a snowball back. "Incoming!" he tossed up his hands and took the impact in in the arms some splattering on his sunglasses. Then he ducked down gathering more snow for another ball.

It seemed like it had been ages since Lucas had last seen snow. He vaguely recalled a trip he had taken as a child to visit family: watching snow fall through the transparent windows, building snowmen in the accumulating frost, waking the next morning to find their car completely immobilized... Not all of it had been pleasant, especially once the power died and the pipes froze, but it was a dear memory nonetheless. Thus, Lucas had been first in line for the alleged training mission to the ski resort - or he would have been, if such a line had formed. But there he was nonetheless, wrapped in heavier winter clothing and staying relatively near to the other Rockets as they trudged forward. He fell back a step or two in response to what seemed to be a brewing snowball fight, turning to Claire with a grin.

"Gotta love the snow, huh?" The snow and all its glorious tendency to reduce potentially violent encounters to sprays of cold fluff.

"Oh damn."

Ah, how luck might have it. Len had an arm but terribly terrible aim. She shot another ball towards the enemy this time, but it shot like pebble on a slingshot. Straight over the noggin of Panther and to possibly some poor pedestrian below. Maybe no one will find her . . . and seek revenge. Maybe that would just suspect the snowflakes just happened to get bigger?

Indeed, it was foolish for Isadora to have her back turned in a war zone, for that stray snowball hit her squarely in the back, knocking the wind out of her. Startled, she coughed and gasped for air for a moment. When she turned around to face her attacker, there was a vengeful fire in her periwinkle eye and a snarl on her face. Before going completely Super-Saiyan, though, she stopped herself and, after a nice deep breath, simply gave a disapproving look at the battleground and walked away with Iditarod.

As she walked away, she came upon two faces - ones much more familiar than the previous two. She smiled as she and her Arcanine approached the pair. "Why, 'ello, Claihre an' Luhcas! How ahre you two this rahther cold day?" She was quite surprised to see her two patients together here at the lodge, but she tried not to let her slightly hesitancy show.

He returned Claire's smile with one of his own. What she said was true; Claire didn't seem the type to go somewhere she didn't want to just because she was asked. He would find a way to make sure it was fun somehow, even if it killed him.

Hopefully it didn't kill him; dying would sort of defeat the purpose of making things fun.

As they engaged Isadora, Lucas positioned himself to keep an eye on the snow war and any projectiles - stray or otherwise - that might approach as a result. It didn't seem that either of the women were in any particular mood to be pelted with ice. Not that anyone would ever be in such a mood, if one were to ask them with such phrasing.

He laughed briefly at Claire's response to the question. "Yeah, cold is about right. Looking forward to the weekend, though." Whoever had decided to book a lodge for the weekend was a genius. Whoever had decided to cover it up as a training exercise, even more so.