merry merry christmas, and I want you to know

[mansionstaff]

Who: YOU
What: KISSLETOES
When: December 14th - January 1st
Where: Everywhere
Warnings: Sloppy makeouts.

SUDDENLY, AND WITHOUT WARNING...



The entire school has become covered in mistletoe overnight. It grows out of the walls! The ceilings! Everywhere you least expect it? HOW CAN THIS BE??

It's probably best not to think about it. Attempts to uproot the plants or burn them away only makes the plants grow back faster. For the time being, it seems the school must live with it.

[OOC INSTRUCTIONS:
+ Post dudes, get kisses!
+ Some (NOT ALL) plants are cursed. If you manage to step under a cursed plant, you will exchange a memory when or if you exchange a kiss. The memories will be first-person and very vivid, and characters will feel like they are experiencing the memory in real time, though in reality the transfer is instantaneous. Memories can be as short, long, happy, sad, or traumatic as you like.
+ If you'd like to participate, we highly suggest making a list of a few memories (with accompanying links/descriptions) that are up for grabs, and linking or posting the list in your top-level comment. Memory exchange is COMPLETELY OPTIONAL. When in doubt, OOC communication!
+ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TAG YOUR CHARACTERS
+ That's it, we love you.]

Comments

[nyamask]

Here's the part where Warren considers lying just to steal a kiss but on second consideration, the memory swap side effect wouldn't occur unless they actually were stuck. Oh, how pleasant it would be if he could simply take something of Hajime's and not have to give anything in return!

One could easily imagine a sinewy tail twitching back and forth as he considered the idea, and the more he considered digging his filthy claws into some aspect of Hajime's brain, the more he realized he was willing to pay the price. After all, Warren's memories were of a life since past, and anything new seemed infinitely more interesting when put into that kind of prospective.

His red eyes darted to the ceiling quickly before settling back on Hajime. There appeared to be no dangling berries directly above his head, nor directly above Hajime's head, but with a step in the right direction that could easily be changed.

"No, there doesn't appear to be anything under us." Like a carefully coordinated chess move, he stepped towards Hajime, boldly intruding well in his personal space. His smile bared miniature fangs, as if he had intentions far more sinister than simple smooches. "But why let that change anything?"

[inspirethefire]

Yes, that was definitely within his comfortable boundaries. Hajime tensed up on instinct: most often, when someone got up close and personal like this, a rather different method of intimidation was involved. Years of bully defiance had taught him not to back down, no matter how the opponent tried to loom.

"...I'm flattered, truly." So flattered. Look at his unflinching glare and barely restrained scowl.

After a second, though, it hit him that such tactics here only could lead to escalation. His posturing deflated, even as the eye contact held firm. "However, I have matters to attend to."

And he's just going to go and step. in the wrong. direction.

[nyamask]

Warren was just going to stand right where he was like the smug so-and-so until Hajime figured it out.

[inspirethefire]

It did not take long, but it took longer as he just sort of stood there and marveled at how stupid he was. Then he looked to Warren, palms spread and baring the most wry of grins. "Well then. Would you terribly mind assisting me?"

[nyamask]

"Not at all."

He kissed that motherfucker. He kissed him good.

[inspirethefire]

The fever made him stagger, and he caught himself against the tunnel wall. Pain shuddered through him with each motion, his joints cracking anew. The glowing slag that peeked from fissures of charred skin lit the catacombs, at least dimly, ensuring that even darkness couldn't hide the mess he'd turned into.

He realized his name was being called, and he looked blearily to the team assembled behind him, each wrapped in their own painless flame of wavering determination. None could get close enough to check on him, without being burned. He steadied on his feet, and waved a reassurance to them. They had to be getting close; the shadow bugs were scurrying past in thicker groups, now. He wasn't of much use as anything but a flashlight, but if there could be anything he could make of his transformation, he'd go for it.

He coughed heavily into his hand, and the mucous of magma that seared against his hand was the least painful thing about it.