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The best thing about snow was that it could make ice, and if there was ice that meant that every sidewalk and street could be used like a hardwood floor and socks for the fun of running and sliding. Which the corrupted did, periodically, letting the other captain get some paces ahead and then sprinting and jamming boots to a standstill to start the slide, coming up in a wobble back to the black and red shoulder. At least until Bus decided he was going to try out Canadian Breakdancing. “Didya break ya butt, tho?”

The corrupted smiled down at the akimbo limbo, bouncing to the beat of the slung slander that at least contained no worse swearing to blue the air colder rather than warm it. Bared thighs and ridiculous senshi uniform bent to crouch Haüyne closer to his misery, and scooping some of the white stuff surreptitiously into hands “It’s only gonna get colder in Januar and Februar. Maybe even MORE snow. But if it’s getting in your pants...”

Weapon readied, it was launched at Bus, “You’re gonna get snowballs!”

“‘ It is the blue-ey'd monster, which doth mock The MEAT-balls it feeds on! ” Which of them, each bearing blues of hues, Haüyne modified Othello to joke on was not clarified. The return fire hit square on the shoulder in the defensive duck-turn of instinct, drawing peels of laughter. The impact of the stuff felt heavier than was usual for snow. Grittier? It fragmented unusually, too, and packed bizarrely compared to the usual moosh and skoosh of snow. Rather than readying another ball to lob, the corrupted super opted to drag a hand in a haymaker-uppercut as along the surface of a pool across the surface of unbroken white next to their tracks, making a fanned, glittering arc of cold stuff at the Captain.

And wordless paused in watching it, shimmering in the lights like no snow ever shimmered before. It was pretty on his uniform, too, like perfect diamonds rented from a jeweler for a high end fashion shoot. “Wow…..”

“Naii-” It was like the corrupted had forgotten about making noise in mid though, as the vocalization drew out and along for seconds even during another snow impact. The negative had become the receiver off-hook tone that replaced the dial tone. It could be argued that the line was rendered unuseable like that ( or permanently in the general existence of the Machine). “-yope.”

A forward lean and Machine was on hands-and-knees to extend over the small distance between them. Long tongue was deployed and collected a sample of the snowy stuff off Bus’ shoulder. “It tastes like regular snow. I think. My mem’s a bit fuzzy on however many years I shoulda been knowin’ the flav. “

“It’s weird, though.” A handful was scooped and held up between them. “It isn’t flakes. Can you feel it between your fingers? It’s all grainy, but like ring-rocks from a jeweler. Like cartoon diamonds. “

A CONUNDRUM. Haüyne badly wanted to keep experimenting with the strange snow, if it could be called snow, or to hunt out where or why it was all weird. Weirdlier weird than East Coast Ski-Lodge Machined Snow that was all hard compared to internet praise of West Coast Powder. With no leads, no tracking devices, no tech-specialists to macguyver up something, the chance of coming to a conclusion about the Jewel Snow ( other than “It’s Pretty!”) was nillo-zilch.
The chances of a rousing chase, adorable yelling and indignance, and huffy warm up cuddles once they were exhausted and crawled home, however, were pretty good: that uniformed a** in the air was an unguarded and too-good-to-be-true target. There’s no belt in those pants. Flip the jacket up first, real fast like?

And with long, noodley limbs, some flailing about, and holding the band while stuffing the other hand…..
...
.........
Haüyne scooped snow and made a grab to stuff some snow down the backend of Pyro’s pants.

" SOME JEWELS ON YOUR JEWELS SO YOU CAN JEWEL WHILE YOU JEWEL- " Really had the snake by the tale, now, didn't the corrupted senshi?

With some flailing, slipping limbs and skids on palms and knees, the red and blue Super got to standing and starting into a jog, trying to get away, while laughing, "NOW THEY'RE BEAUTIFUL."

There was no stopping once the train was boarded, even if there wasn’t a teleport involved. Haüyne had enough time to register that there were black and crimson limbs and scales present and accounted for before full body, quantum tunneling experiment #4329 (or whatever official designated count they were at) was imminent…
and
ENGAGED.

Hopefully Bus had good footing, otherwise they were both going to end up in a spill right back in the snow. But since he was all grabbing anyway, Machine made it a point to try to become a front-wearing, wrong-way-round, human backpack.

“TIMBER.”

Synaptic short out when hands remained as they remained as they weren’t moving considered that the words that he said may have been:
1) The clear star that is yesterday is belief in the interrelatedness of all things. Gasoline wants to set things right.
2) That stolen figurine with Enqoyism likes to take a walk in the park. Love asked you a question?
Or something else entirely different. Haüyne experimentally twitched one cheek, then the other. “Yo, esé. Movin’ Tree. “

“You got more handfulls than snow jewels now. You so good at teleportin', you gonna heist those dough? ”

"Cause we gotta toll for dese 5-finger discounts."