[The blizzard has only been raging a day or so but that's enough to keep Rosinante mostly indoors. Stiff winds and bitter cold are things he can withstand if he needs to, but it's not much fun. He'd much rather spend the time reading his newspapers from Pluto, and working on his star charts. This means there's paper of all sorts spread out around the room - the star charts are currently tacked up on the walls wherever Mary hasn't gotten to putting paint on them instead, and one newspaper lies open on his bed.

As is typical, the door to the upstairs room in The Invincible is open, and cigarette smoke drifts out into the hallway. Or, currently, into that very frosty-looking face. Rosinante practically jumps when he hears that voice - he'd been too deep in his labeling and hadn't paid attention. But rapidly he turns to face the door, eyes wide, then nods and beckons him in.]

Yeah, come in! That looks hot, why don't you put that by the stove. You really came all this way just to drop that off?

[He'll say thanks in a second, he's just startled by a lot of what's happening right now. Aziraphale certainly looks like he's keeping himself warm, but who braves this weather just to deliver soup? How is it still steaming as if it has just come straight out of a boiling pot, given what it takes to get through said blizzard and up two flights of stairs?]