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Water was, under the right circumstances, peaceful and serene. Graceful and artistic. Endlessly kind and endlessly gentle and just as implacable, as merciless as Poseidon's wounded pride if its tides were not respected. But most of all, and most relevant at this moment, water was [i]wet[/i].

[i][color=7e5e7f]Haaa-choo.[/color][/i]

In Baeterra water was valued, prized even. And it was respected. Without it the land would have been unlivable, its use as carefully considered and measured as any other critical resource. It had never been, in Rivka's life, something so carefree as she had heard in other cities. It wasn't scarce, so large a city could never be supported if it was, but a downpour so torrential was a rare occurrence and one that any sensible Baeterran was [i]inside[/i] for. Not standing outside, pitting little more than a thin layer of hydrophobic garment against God's tears. And it was cold. And she had to use [i]fire[/i] in the [i]rain[/i].

That they were 'Team 5' and not something much more graceful, a name like that which Crystal had labored upon for so long with such devotion, would normally be an affront but in the face of this misery she could manage little more than a sullen look on the subject. Her own magical affinity, at least, was enough to keep her warm; much of her team, too, if she stood closely enough. But it wasn't making her much happier.

[color=7e5e7f]"I want to scrap these quickly."[/color] The musician stated, quiet, subdued, and unhappy. [color=7e5e7f]"I want something hot to drink. With caffeine. Or marshmallows."[/color]