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[molotov]

[It's the middle of January. Molotov has heard that some people were getting gifts, but she figures that, by this point, it'd have been impossible to not have found hers. So clearly she's not getting a gift.

That's fine. Molotov doesn't really care, and there's just not really anything she would have wanted from home anyway. So who cares?

She is hungry though -- it's late afternoon, and she skipped lunch. Molotov's in her kitchen (she doesn't see the allure of the communal one), journal open while she digs through cabinets. Settling on a new bag of potato chips, there's a rustling noise as she opens it, then a silence and a gasp.

And then a girlish, wholly un-mercernary-like squeal of happiness.

Merry late Christmas, Molotov.]


[ OOC: Open over the journal! ]

Comments

[samson]

[Brock is working on his cabin because that's his life. But he's got the journal open nearby in case something important happens -- this is more bizarre than important, but still --]

Uh. Mol?

[molotov]

[There's a scrambling noise -- Molotov hadn't realized her journal was open.]

Da, Brock.

[fumidus]

[There's a low dry laugh.]

Somebody sounds happy.

[molotov]

[Molotov is instantly embarrassed.]

It was a surprise.

[fumidus]

From the sound of it, it looks like it was a good one.

[molotov]

It is something I have wanted for quite some time.

[fumidus]

Which is?

[molotov]

A ring. A big one.

[fumidus]

...

[What were those called again?]

An engagement ring?

[molotov]

[Molotov is quiet for a moment, but when she answers, her voice is softer than normal.]

Da.

[fumidus]

[Oh, humans and their little bonds. He'd never fully understand them.]

...Who's the lucky man?

[molotov]

[Look, this is a long time coming, and Molotov has had to fight tooth and nail for it. DON'T RAIN (smoke??) ALL OVER HER PARADE.]

Samson.

[fumidus]

[I WILL SMOKE ALL OVER YOUR PARADE IF I WANT TO. I DO WHAT I WANT, MOLOTOV. okay fine he's not going to be that mean.]

Is he here? In Paradisa?

[molotov]

Da, he lives with me.

Speaking of living here, did you get your Christmas gift? I could not find your room, so I gave it to a ghost and told them to take it to you.

[fumidus]

Oh. Moved in already?

[Christmas gift. Oh. Ohhh. The snowglobe. He had been really upset to find it was strangely resilient to him throwing it around. So, it's just stashed in the crook of a tree somewhere. He sometimes just takes it out and gives it a shake every once in a while. But not in front of anyone else of course, he has his antisocial don't-care-about-anything attitude to keep up.]

...Yes, I got it. But I don't live in the castle. The ghost gave it me outside.

[molotov]

He moved in a few months ago. He already spent all his time here, having his own room was just ridiculous.

I am glad you received it. It was something I thought you would like. [Don't worry, creepy. Molotov won't tell.]

[fumidus]

So, are you two officially together, or what?

[>:I] Yes. It was nice, I guess. I didn't get you anything, though. Doesn't that bother you?

[molotov]

Da, I suppose. It requires adjustment -- we have spent over twenty years not being "together".

[SHRUG, though this is the journal, so he can't see it.] Nyet. Presents are nice, but not everyone has Christmas. I grew up without it, you know.

[fumidus]

That's a long time.

[Not really, but for human beings it is. To him, twenty years is like a day.]

I didn't have Christmas either. Never really saw the point or found the opportunity for it.

[molotov]

Da, it is.

If you do not have the religious background, it is nice to just look at it in a sense of being with people you like, and giving and receiving gifts. Did you have any celebrations like that, where you are from?

[fumidus]

...No. We didn't have anything like that where I come from. Technically, we do, but holidays simply weren't celebrated where I was born.

[molotov]

Oh. Well, that is almost sad. I do not approve of religious celebrations, but holidays are nice. A chance to relax and eat well. And drink.

[Molotov is very Russian.]

[fumidus]

Well, it's not like I have a job to take a break or holiday from. So, holidays wouldn't mean anything to me even if I did celebrate them. And feasts can't exactly be done where I live.

[molotov]

Where do you live?

dictated

[common_name]

[Honestly, that sound is something that Julia is practically convinced can't have come from anything human. At the very least, it's not recognizable at all. Maybe she hasn't been feeling terribly social lately, but something like that coming over the journals is kind of hard to ignore. So she'll bite.]

I take it the news was good.

[But she may soon find that idle curiosity is going to give her more than she bargained for.]