How Old Are You Now?
Clementine's not in the mood to deal with this. It's Halloween on her side of the door, and she just spent four hours putting out bonfires and . But when she sneaks in for a beer and a rest, Bar presents her with a large, pink-frosted cupcake covered in white edible glitter.
"Honey, you're too late," she tells Bar. "It's October back where I came from." And, though she won't admit it out loud - she doesn't want to be reminded of the fact that this marks her fortieth year.
But the cupcake's not going away, and it looks good.
She shrugs and picks up a fork. Her mood's already improving, even if it is almost two weeks past her birthdays. Sweets will never go out of style.
[OOC: Belated quasi-birthday post for Clementine, since I missed her birthday. Open indefinitely for new tags, though mun is taking this to instaslows.]
"Honey, you're too late," she tells Bar. "It's October back where I came from." And, though she won't admit it out loud - she doesn't want to be reminded of the fact that this marks her fortieth year.
But the cupcake's not going away, and it looks good.
She shrugs and picks up a fork. Her mood's already improving, even if it is almost two weeks past her birthdays. Sweets will never go out of style.
[OOC: Belated quasi-birthday post for Clementine, since I missed her birthday. Open indefinitely for new tags, though mun is taking this to instaslows.]