mistletoe 2: mistletoe harder

[idolpro]

Who: You!
Where: Game Tower, to start
When: Day 187

[ It's snowing outside. . . ! So it's pretty cold. You know what's not cold, though? The Game Tower! It's nice and warm and you are definitely being yoinked out of wherever you currently are for a possibly familiar ~game~. Don't worry though: you don't have to stay.

Instead of the elevators opening, the rules just appear on your phone. There's hot cocoa provided in the lobby, though in limited quantity and all of them come with marshmallows. Mandatory marshmallows. If you don't like marshmallows, well, too bad!

Incidentally, there are also a bunch of green plants growing around . . . everywhere. Everywhere!! At the doorways, in the elevators, just hanging from the ceiling, growing parasitically on plants that aren't even mistletoe . . . !? Where did they come from!? They're all tied with a red ribbon too, to make them more easily visible and clearly part of the game. They're not restricted to the game tower, either - the only places mistletoe doesn't show up in are the unit dorms. ]

RULES | TURN-IN - due 12/26/19 @ 6PM PST

Comments

[firstworldproblem]

[Is Absinthe sitting down at any point? If so, he's just going to plop down in his lap.

If not, he's going to tap him on the shoulder.]

[innerdaemons]

[ at some point he will probably sit down to enjoy some cocoa

so yes he will take the lap full of Emet-Selch. ]

Is that comfortable?

[firstworldproblem]

[Ruining his posture further so he his head is leaning somewhat against Absinthe's shoulder as his knees lounge over the armrest.]

More than it looks I would imagine. Don't let me interrupt whatever it was you were doing.

[Resting his eyes.]

[innerdaemons]

If you do intend on participating in the game this will be a very difficult position to do so from.

[firstworldproblem]

[A harsh sigh.]

Quality or quantity?

[innerdaemons]

As in, what I am aiming for?

[firstworldproblem]

Correct. Unless there is a third option of which I am unaware.

[innerdaemons]

I would have more of a chance of success with qualify, I believe.

[firstworldproblem]

Do you recall what the winning entries were the last time this game occurred?

[innerdaemons]

I don't believe I was around for it, unfortunately.

[firstworldproblem]

That leaves us guessing what the captive audience the souls of the damn enjoy watching. Shall we give it our best?

[It takes him a moment to move. He truly was comfortable and content to sit there. He stands patting the inside of Absinthe's knee to shift his legs so he can kneel between them.]

[innerdaemons]

[ he laughs - - and spreads his legs o oblingingly, moving both hands to cup Emet-Selch's face in a way that could almost be mistaken for tender. ]

I shall aim to impress!

[firstworldproblem]

[Leaning into his palm for show.]

I have yet to be disappointed.

[Wrapping Absinthe's tie around his fingers and tugging it forward. He considers using puppeteer abilities for a moment but with one of them sitting and the other kneeling that would just be a big mess.]

[innerdaemons]

[ one of his hands shifts, resting at the back of Emet-Selch's neck as he leans forward, tilting his head in to aim for a kiss. ]

[firstworldproblem]

[Then a kiss he will get! A deep one at that as he twists the tie taut in his fingers.]

[innerdaemons]

[ he hums his approval into the kiss and parts his mouth, dragging nails against Emet-Selch's neck as they curl in, lounging a bit back in the chair as if to emphasize how comfortable he's getting with this. ]

[firstworldproblem]

[The scratching at his neck gets him to straighten his back if such a thing were possible. Pushing more into the kiss, grazing Absinthe's bottom lip with teeth before biting. And most importantly, using his free to hand to reach up and pluck that hat from his head.]

[innerdaemons]

[ there's something like a laugh to the kiss, and he rakes his hand up past Emet-Selch's neck to his scalp, fingers going through his hair while he nips back ]

[firstworldproblem]

[He gives a contented sound to the hair combing. Ah, but as delightful as this was, was the purpose not to entice the audience? He hardly thinks this will suffice.

Biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.]

[innerdaemons]

[ fitting to his shtick in general - - his blood is more of a thick, viscous, black ooze, like the ichor that drips from him when he's in a worse state. he hisses into Emet-Selch's mouth and then in turn takes a firm hold of his hair to yank - - not away, just in general, helping out on a show. ]

[firstworldproblem]

[Yelping slightly more in surprise at the sudden hair tugging than anything else. He'll break the kiss then leaning back and dropping his hat to the floor. With a wide grin, he runs his thumb along the ichor, gathering it. He tastes it shortly after.]

[innerdaemons]

[ he laughs, husky and satisfied, licking his own lips. predictably the ichor doesn't taste good - - rotten and bitter, unearthly. ]

Did you enjoy yourself?

[firstworldproblem]

[It is gross, but that was the point.]

With you. Always.

[Getting his legs under him, knees and back protesting. He leans in to kiss his cheek before standing fully.]

[innerdaemons]

If you flatter me so much it may start to get to my head.

[firstworldproblem]

[He simply laughs at that and takes his leave with a wave.]