MISTLETOE IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2025

[siberia]

you know what to do. whether it's magic compulsion (feat. magical attraction or not), that you're trapped until you kiss, or just tradition and social pressure, you've been caught under the mistletoe and that means you have to kiss.

platonic is ok too. feel free to leave your own comment or reply to one of mine with a blank if you want me to write a starter!

Comments

it's the squelchiest time of the year

[globs]

[ It's winter. They're sleepy. But, as always, they're awake in spite of it. Humans are quite different from the other plants and animals they've observed - they don't hibernate during the cold season, and, in fact, don't even seem to slow down. Cinnabar finds it remarkable, in a distant sort of way. In a perfect world - one where they're a normal gem - having them around would probably take the edge off of the dark, lonely months this time of year. As things stand, though, they're as solitary as they've ever been. The humans cluster together in the city for warmth; thus, it's Cinnabar's duty more than ever to keep their distance, watching from the treeline while they have their holiday festivals and pretending they're not interested at all.

During the day, it's easier not to think about it. Unfortunately, it's also much easier to run into people. Cinnabar startles at the sound of his voice with an audible and not-too-elegant gwah, followed by a glare in his direction. ]

Why are you up there? [ grumbled, mildly offended, as if Vangeance did this on purpose to spook them - although, to be fair, Cinnabar sounds mildly offended most of the time. If he were someone else, they'd probably just leave, but... ] ... It's always cold during this season.

[laeradr]

[ The startled noise ... He knows he shouldn't laugh, but Vangeance does smile to himself at the sound of it. Lucky for him that it's not too different from that usual, elusive smile he wears by default so it won't stand out too much. ]

Just a little bit of pruning.

[ It's easy for him to extend his own vines, woven from magic, to snake around the tree's main trunk, providing a sturdy anchor that he can use to rappel down to the ground; the powdery top layer of snow puffs out around the flutter of his cape as he lands lightly on his feet. In his hands is a big tangle of greenery, though a good cluster of it still remains tangled in the branches overhead. ]

Are you familiar with mistletoe? [ He holds it out for Cinnabar to look at, if they'd like. ] As charming as it is, it's a parasitic plant -- too much of it clustered on a tree can cause serious damage. I trimmed off just enough to give the tree a chance of survival. And given the season, I thought it might be nice to distribute this to the others.

crawls out of the holidays back into your arms

[globs]

[ As ever, his abilities are a fascinating phenomenon, although Cinnabar wouldn't dare to say as much to his face. Command over life and growth. They don't understand it, and they'd be lying if they said they weren't a little bitter about it in comparison to their own abilities - although calling what they do "commanding" anything is a stretch.

In any case, pruning trees in the woods sounds like an immense waste of time, and their pinched brow indicates they're about to tell him as much before he continues with his explanation. An explanation that makes sense, in that moralistic human sort of way. ]

So you're killing one plant to protect another. [ perhaps being a parasite makes it worthy of death, but Cinnabar can't help thinking it's unfair. It's not like the plant chose to be born that way. Or maybe they're the one projecting their feelings onto a bunch of plants. After all, he makes it sound like he has some plan, giving it to the others... ] Are you going to eat it or something? That's gross.

[ WHAT ELSE WOULD HUMANS DO WITH IT!! there's not a lot growing in the winter, so maybe desperate times demand they eat leaves like this?! ]

let us both regain our strength

[laeradr]

[ help. He can't help blinking at that -- wide-eyed, a hint of surprise visible even past the imposing mask he always wears -- before giving a soft laugh. Not for long, and not meanly! Just -- it's a cute assumption to make. At least Vangeance follows it up quickly with a little clear of the throat and a soft 'excuse me.' ]

No, nothing like that. These would cause quite the stomachache if anyone were to eat them, so I'd advise against it, actually. And --

[ a gentle tip of the head towards the tree he just came down from. ]

-- I left the bulk of the plant up there. Just spread out, so it isn't in danger of killing off any main branches. Of course, if this still kills the tree then I suppose that's simply how things were meant to be. [ As much as he adores nature, he also knows that nature is cruel. He knows there's only so much he can intervene for his own selfish wants. ] But where I'm from, we often use mistletoe as a decoration around this time of year, you see. I thought it would be permissible to take just a bit of it. Something to lend a festive mood and help keep spirits up.

[ Things always get a little gloomier in the winter, after all, with long nights and chilly, gray days. ]

Have you heard about a holiday called Yule, by any chance?

(both of us proceed to get immediately blown up by the ayto bomb)

[globs]

[ Ah. So it was less moralistic and foolish than they were imagining. Some part of them reprimands themself for assuming Vangeance would do something so myopic and idealistic - he's not the type, and it's part of the reason they respect him to a slightly higher degree than the other humans. They absolutely were projecting, weren't they? How pathetic. Cinnabar folds their arms over their chest, briefly staring down at the snow with some unspoken shame.

Decoration makes more sense than eating, too, though they can't say they see the aesthetic appeal in this particular plant. His question gets them to lift their head up again, gazing at him furtively through their crystalline bangs. ]

... I know you're all having some kind of winter festival.

[ the reason for it has escaped them, as has the name. Yule, then. ]