Ah... The first bath of the year... Quite a lovely little tradition Alisa had picked up from her paternal family, well, from her uncle more than anybody else. Guy had a passion for all things manly, went perfectly with his jovial, boisterous demeanor, but Alisa had always loved his straightforwardness. Taken after him in a way, as even her dad never came close to Uncle Gottfrid's bluntness. The man often bragged about taking a bath in the first night of the new year, diving headfirst into the nearest body of water, that was, as soon as he managed to break the ice... And the only consequence he whined about was how the waters in Fiore never quite allowed him to recreate that same tradition, they felt, in his own words, warmer than the hottest of Icebergian Summers.
That didn't stop him trying though...
Alisa herself had no real term for comparison, but she'd say whatever cold she might feel truly paled to the kind of training she'd only put herself through, braving the frosty peaks in Fiore with nothing but her log cabin for shelter. Her northern blood alone on top of her physical fitness made her perfectly capable of indulging in this unique tradition - thoroughly unpleasant in the eyes of heat loving Fiorians - just as she was getting ready to do now, letting her blouse slide off her shoulders, leaving her clothes in a neatly arranged spot as she bared her elegant, form fitting swimsuit to the eyes of nobody in particular:
"Now then~... I wonder how the water will feel like this time~...?", she mused, running her fingers under the lower edges of her swimsuit, better adjusting it around her shapely hips, stretching her arms and legs slightly, and stepping forth until her toes touched the water, feeling it flow welcomingly around her. Despite the start contrast between chilly air and chillier water touching her smooth, alabaster skin, not the slighest wince or hesitation drew on the nonchalant fighter's face as she took another step.
Objectively the water felt as cold as one might think. Though not actually reaching those negative degrees one might guess, the water itself would inevitably made it feel far colder. Though Alisa had never actually performed such a traditionalistic ritual anywhere but in Fiore, that something in her blood told her this temperature was indeed nothing compared to the harsh Northern winters:
"Lukewarm...", noted the sculptress, sighing as she barely shivered, casually striding further and further into the water, feeling it reach further up her long, shapely legs with each and every step. She acclimated to the temperature astoundingly quick, enough to cooly waddle deeper into the water, only finally swan diving inside once it reached almost up to her chest, "...Perfect for a new year's swim."
As frigid as it may feel, that bitter cold refreshed her mind and body, jolting her completely awake and alert as it swirled around her statuesque form. Watching the moon's gleam lighing her underwater surroundings, she swam there for quite a few seconds before breaking the surface once again, splashing ripples announcing her emergence as she ran her hands over her hair, slicking her long raven hair back and away from her eyes, peering wine red orbits taking in her surroundings once more, as if wondering whether anything might have changed since she went for her little dip.