MISTLETOE MEME

[comeasyouare]

MISTLETOE MEME

YOU KNOW WHAT THE DANG THING IS

Christmastime is in the air! So much so, that it seems you've come across some mistletoe... and can't seem to pull yourself away. Worse still, someone else is there with you. There's only one way to break the enchantment...

1. Post a top level!
2. Tag out!
3. ???
4. Profit?

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone!

Comments

[thischaos]

[If anything has confused Mello here in Ryslig, it's the question of how anyone can keep themselves in good spirits with the world being nothing but hell and shit around them.]

It's a parasitic plant. [And this is stupid bleeds along with his words; Mello's just about had it with the Gods putting him in positions he'd rather avoid.] Even the original myths surrounding the origins of its significance aren't laced with anything denoting fortune.

[There's an almost-full glass of dark alcohol in his hand, and Mello taps against the rim with the tip of his claw while assessing his 'comrade.' with flat eyes]

I don't believe in luck. Everyone carves their own path. Any fortune or misfortune is a direct result of a person's actions. Nothing happens by pure chance.

[courage_and_claws]

[It's because the world is nothing but hell and shit that Rosch has to keep himself in good spirits! Not just for his own sake, but for the sake of those who rely on him. A former army captain knows that you can't keep that fighting spirit stoked when morale is low.]

[Rosch rolls his eyes at the part about "parasitic plant".] Y'know, even parasites and hangers-on have their place in society. [His lip curls with a wicked grin.] I mean, the boss keeps you around, doesn't he?

[Did... Did Rosch just take a jab a Mello's pride? Yes. Yes, he did. But it's a good thing, really! If the werewolf is comfortable enough to poke fun of you, it means that he considers you a friend!]

[Rosch leans an elbow against the wall near the vampire's head, towering over him. He's not trying to be imposing, but he's definitely pushing himself into the smaller man's space.]

You're the kinda guy that thinks you can control everything around you if you will it hard enough, don't you? [He says it, not unkindly, and laughter rumbles in his chest.] You really are like Stocke, in that way.

[Despite Mello's protests, when Rosch compares him to Stocke, it's always meant as a compliment.]

[thischaos]

[Oh no. Rosch, don't do that. While Mello might play well with others in the Nest out of a pure need to keep things all-around amicable, his patience consistently runs thin. He doesn't react to taunting well; something about growing up consistently in second place brings out a competitive streak that usually ends in outright combative anger.]

[The first taunt only elicits a curious arch of a brow — is this guy serious? But the looming. The looming. That crosses a line.]

You've got three seconds.

[Two, technically.]

I'm not Dante; I don't spar for sport. [Pure venom in his tone. Rosch has hit a sore spot, and when that happens? Mello hits back. Hard.]