It's the most wonderful time of the year :) [Party Post]
[OOC: We did this post last year, and it became our highest comment count post ever. 2,267 comments. It doesn't matter if we get up to that number again, but it has become tradition! This is open for all of December through January for any holiday/winter shenanigans. :> Tag in with the same character multiple times, make multiple new threads, think
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He opened the door with a scowl, and raises an eyebrow. "Can I help you?" That would be a polite statement, except it's coming from Ran, and that means he's being a complete and utter dick. He knows exactly why she's here, and he also realises it's insanely cold outside and he should probably let her in.
But he's just standing her, staring at her.
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Thankfully, though, the Rift is not that mean, and has only frozen her, rather than giving her an attack of feline-induced consumption. Still, she looks rather uncomfortable as she stands there, slightly blue-tinged, shifting hurriedly from foot to foot in a futile attempt to warm herself.
"--can I, like, come in?"
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Ran shrugs, leaning against the doorway. His deceptively long legs bar the way inside, and he cocks his head, examining her. She looks cold, and he couldn't care less. She's on his list of people he'd kill if someone wouldn't miss the body.
"You're doing the fucking like thing now?" he drawls, completely unaffected by her adorable shivering and shuffling. "You can either come in or not come in. There's no like involved."
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Not properly, mind. Oh no, no sitting primly on the seat like most would. No, she's got her Target-knockoff-Ugg-shod feet planted on the seat of the bench and she's sitting up on the back, her eyes lifted heavenward.
But this is no pious display of faith, nor even a wonder-filled tracking of the odd snowflake flurrying its way down from the sky. Hell no. She's scowling in a way that clearly conveys, I want to cut a bitch.
Where by bitch she means the sprig of mistletoe just out of reach above her head, that's resisted all attempts at evasion, argument, and injury so far. Oh, and in the meantime she's been kissed by three men (one of whom also groped her and got a Target-knockoff-Ugg-clad foot to his testicles for his troubles) and one woman and she has about had it with this mistletoe right here, okay ( ... )
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Unfortunately, this might not have been the best plan, as a particularly stubborn piece of mistletoe decided to detach itself from the local foliage, and begin circling her head, near-mockingly.
She's only been kissed once-- the park's a nice open space, and she found solace by sticking to the trees-- but she's already mad at this thing. She keeps jumping up and trying to grab it, but it always bobs just out of reach. She's tried the snowball method too, but to a similar lack of avail.
But then she sees the other girl sitting on the bench, dealing with her own mistletoe-- and doesn't know whether to approach or avoid. On the one hand, finally, someone ( ... )
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"Me too," she agrees. "Sucks, doesn't it? Like this city isn't difficult enough to navigate on any given day, now this." She gestures at the greenery floating above her.
"Sorry. You got people acting like it's their God-given right to put their lips on you just because you've got some misbehaving plant up over you? 'Cause I sure have, and I'm about done with it."
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"What have you tried?" She jumps up at the plant over Rachel's head, just to see if she can get at anyone else's more easily than her own. It doesn't work; the mistletoe just swoops out of reach. "...I could get a bomb," she adds, half to herself. "No, that'd be too dangerous. --Maybe if we work together, we could think of a solution."
She glances at Rachel, and thinks to add, "I-- have some experience in, um, resisting magical compulsion, and stuff." Her tongue dances slightly over her lips, to wet them. They suddenly feel very dry, in this winter chill. "I'll be fine, don't worry."
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She's sipping a cup of coffee herself, watching the madness and even joining in every now and then. She's not too worried about abandoning her post, as she keeps an eye out and, if anyone really wants something, they can help themselves.
So don't mind, world, is there is a First daring in and out of the line of fire and happily supplying those who need it with warm treats. Sure, it's what she usually does but she's missed some of her old habits. It's a bout time she started doing the things that make her happy again.
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He has some snow in his hair. Apparently, someone thought his head was a nicely-shaped target. It was probably Danny.
"Got anythin' for me in there?" he asks, peering at her cart with a grin.
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"I might have somethin'," she smiles, turning to the cart. "Got anything in mind. I can do warm, I can do baked, I can do all 'round tasty." She grins.
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Out of habit, he re-ruffles his hair after Millie messes with it, then stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Surprise me?"
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He does manage to wander in her direction eventually, though he doesn't notice at first, his eyes on the lights.
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Moving a few steps behind him, she slides her hands over his shoulders, her fingers resting at the base of his neck and her chin resting atop her wrist.
She doesn't say anything, just smiles and watches the lights with him, the bond raveling itself around him, loose but still there.
She's more sure of what she wants at this point, that he's something to keep around, to keep close. She's just taking her time, binding him slowly and letting fall into it gently instead of forcing her will upon him.
It's much more fun this way.
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He doesn't bother turning around; if she wants to say something she can let him know, and he has no doubt that she will. The company is nice, the sky amazing, and he's content to enjoy both.
Poor Nick has absolutely no idea what, exactly, the company is doing to him, but what he doesn't know... probably can hurt him, but will not disrupt his current contentedness.
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He has also found himself being targeted by mistletoe.
So far it's only been a minor annoyance, but with the third person who has taken it as an excuse to come up and kiss him from behind, he's starting to upgrade it to somewhat more of an annoyance.
He's given up on trying to bat it away for the moment and is trying to catch gumdrops in his mouth instead.
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She considers seeing Nick there, the universe trying to apologize for screwing her over. She'll take it.
Plus, the annoyed expression he seems to be gaining more and more gives her a good reason to walk up and curl her arms around his waist, in a very 'This is mine, lay off', fashion.
It's not that she minds sharing, not at all in fact, but when the person who is being shared minds, it doesn't please her much.
So you have a protector,, Nick! A protector who is trying to catch flying bits of candy from the air and may be lightly pelting them at you when she's not guarding you.
She is going to put herself in a good mood, damnit. It's the winter, that means she won't have to wait that long for the sun to go down.
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It's not that he doesn't like people, in general, but just because there's a plant there does not remove the need for permission before invading a stranger's personal space.
He leans into her, hoping that her presence gives the impression that he is off-limits for physical contact.
Any candy that gets thrown his way he will attempt to catch. He wouldn't want to waste it, would he?
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She'll get out of the habit one day. Maybe.
Oh, if her presence doesn't do it, she'll happily do more. Hers, damnit. Hers and not in the mood to be shared. If the situation were different, she would be happy to help him find someone, in fact, she would be more comfortable if she were helping but no one is allowed to make him uncomfortable without her consent and she doesn't give that easily and she doesn't like other people handling her pets roughly.
She grins, shaking her head at him and starts actually trying to aim for his mouth, instead of just trying to hit him in general. It's silly and amusing and well, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation just makes her laugh.
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