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5th floor common room ; monday afternoon

There'd been a new file on Flick's computer when he'd woken up that morning. It hadn't taken a genius to figure out who sent it, not with file name like when you're ready. Mandel was apparently sending him gifts these days. Flick's cursor had hovered over the file for a few moments before he'd turned his computer off. He knew what was in that file: information. Information on his father and possibly the proof that he needed to implicate his old man in Jude's murder. But, Flick wasn't going to take that route, not yet. No, he'd use that information later. After he burned Mandel Academy to the ground, after he took Mandel himself. After. Sure, in the interim, he'd have to worry about his DNA turning him into a murderous predator but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

His leg was a little stiff this morning so he was taking it easy in the common room. He had a soft spot for the couches, what could he say? The stiffness in his leg meant he'd ordered lunch and had it brought to him. Nothing fancy, just a pizza with everything on it, but he hadn't had to walk into town and it was cheap. He still had plenty of money from selling a bunch of crap last week.

Of course, his luck had to run out eventually. As soon as he turned on the television, an animated Christmas movie assaulted him. That's right, the holidays were coming, weren't they? Great. That was fantastic.

He changed the channel. More Christmas movies. Another channel switch, another Christmas movie.

So, apparently the television hated him. Fine. He'd just hate watch the animated Christmas movie and curse the world when Jingle Bells ended up stuck in his head.

[Open place. Canonical parts lifted from How to Lead a Life of Crime. Christmas is coming.]

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"Oh, by the Angel," Alec said at once, taking a look at what was playing on the TV before he even noticed who was in the room watching it. "Is it time for that already?"

Sixteen and a half years of growing up without a TV had made Alec very ill-versed in the precise timeline of holiday-obsessed mundane television, apparently.

"Not even close," Flick grumbled, shaking his head. There was some snowman chirping about being charitable and giving this holiday season. "But, it's after Halloween so that's apparently free reign to start in with the Christmas crap."

"But it's weeks away," Alec said dumbly. This was super uncalled for, America. "It was seventy degrees over the weekend."

Truth be told, he was a little appalled. And not just because the last thing he needed in his current mood was a TV snowman promoting cheerfulness and joy. He wasn't really in a cheerful, joyous mood right now.

"Welcome to America," Flick said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Where we start celebrating Christmas the minute Halloween ends for maximum profit!"

That's what it was all about, anyway: money. "Have fun going into any local store over the next two months. All your gonna find is Christmas shit. Everything will be tied with a bowed or flavored with peppermint."

"So that's what that was about," Alec said, blinking as realization dawned. "I went to buy a scarf for-" he hesitated minutely-- "someone yesterday and it was about the only thing on the whole display wall that wasn't red or green."

Ugh, bright colors. Shadowhunters wore black. It was a way cooler way to live.

"Last year," he said, in a tone of one delivering a serious warning, "the island got in on it. With sugar snow and raining presents and snowmen that threw tinsel at people. Just so you know."

"Wonderful," Flick said in a tone that wasn't wonderful at all. He shook his head. "I hate this holiday."

But, he hated a lot of things so what else was new, right?

"The crap thing is that it's almost impossible to avoid unless you go into hiding. Watch." To demonstrate this fact, Flick started changing the channels on the television.

Every single channel, there was something related to Christmas. It was like there was a curse on this common room.

Alec looked on in horror.

"I can't even tell if it's the island making the TV be contrary or if that's actually what's playing," he said after a pause. "But either way, the idea that everyone needs to be in a good mood because it's November and one particular holiday is seven weeks away..."

He shook his head. Gross.

Yeah, Flick agreed. Gross and unnecessary.

"Happens every year," Flick said, watching as the television landed right back on the animated Christmas movie. It was the least offensive thing right now. "Sometimes, it's easier to avoid."

Easy when you lived on the streets and slept in places where television didn't exist. Still, you couldn't escape the decorations. People loved to decorate.e

"Just hope you don't get stuck under mistletoe."

That was the very last thing Alec needed. "Angel," he swore. "I hope not." He'd only learned about what mistletoe represented to mundanes last year, but he was quite sure that he did not need it above his head anytime soon, thanks very much.

Without even meaning to, he scowled at the talking snowman on the screen like this was all his fault.

"I'm, I guess, new to the concept of holiday spirit," he hedged. "As much as you can be coming from New York, with all the Christmas markets and giant trees, anyway. I just don't see the point of it."

Edited 2013-11-04 16:26 (UTC)

"The point is money," Flick said cynically. If there were other points, he wasn't one to see them. "Society paints this holiday as one about love and giving and charity but they jack up their prices and sell crap for fifty bucks more because it's the Christmas edition."

He shook his head, falling quiet. "It's a materialistic holiday disguised by cute little snowmen and a big fat guy and his sweatshop of little elf workers."

Alec hadn't thought about it in quite those terms -- he usually wasn't quick to think that way, since money had never been much of a concern for him -- but he had to admit that Flick was probably right.

"And people buy into it because spending all that money on presents is just part of being generous and cheerful during the season," he said, with an amount of contempt in his voice that surprised even himself. "I just mean -- there's social pressure."

"Bigger the present, the more you love the person you're giving it to," Flick remarked with disdain. "That's how it seems to work."

And he didn't agree so Alec didn't need to worry about convincing him. "The pressure's not gonna let up for the next two months either Fight or flight, man."

"Well, at least I don't have anyone who's going to expect a Christmas present from me," Alec said. The words themselves sounded slightly optimistic, but... well, Alec never sounded optimistic. "My sister doesn't do holidays any more than I do, and I don't think my roommate and I are quite that close."

"And see, some people would say that just because they're not expecting gifts doesn't mean that should stop you from getting them something."

Flick's tone made it clear that he didn't believe that. "Yeah, no one's getting anything from me unless something really changes in like the next six weeks. Maybe I'll toss some candy someone's way."

"'S generous," Alec noted, a little dryly. "Of course, the holiday itself will probably be a terrible time to be out and around in this town, so having to deliver a present to someone means you'll have to subject yourself to the... caroling and cooing and everything."

What a bunch of happy people the two of them were. Seriously.

Edited 2013-11-04 17:48 (UTC)

At least it was good to know Alec wasn't alone in his attitude? There was someone out there that felt the same exact way about a lot of things.

"Someone tries to get me to carol, they're liable to end up bloody," he said, half serious. "I don't sing or dance or celebrate merrily."

"There should be a Christmas safehouse," Alec decided. "Away from all that stuff."

Oh, there was going to be one. It was called room 401. Victor was going to have to accept that.

"I figure I can always go back home if I get that desperate for an escape," Flick said because he figured Mandel Academy would forget Christmas even existed. "There's absolutely nothing happy there."

Well, Joi. But, he'd cut ties with her for the greater good. That's what he was telling himself.

Alec paused. "Sorry," he said. And... that was about it. He wasn't great at verbal emotional connections.

"Baltimore might also work," he offered. "As far as depressing cities go..."

"Oh, is it time for Christmas movies?"

Because of course Rilla loved them.

Don't worry, Alec, Flick hadn't been expecting any real sympathy. He'd gotten even more than he'd expecting from the other guy just with that one word.

Flick sniggered and nodded. "True. I'll probably end up staying here. Last trip home wasn't that much fun. Hence me saying nothing happy there. I think my part of New York would make even freaking Santa Claus shed a tear. Or need therapy."

"Four days after Halloween? Flick nodded. "Apparently, that's a great time to start spreading holiday cheer."

"Well, couldn't we all stand to remember to be a little cheerful?" Rilla asked.

Oh Rilla, you were really talking to the wrong person about being cheerful.

"What for?" he asked,, shaking his head. "Are things really going to be better if I force myself to be cheerful?"

"Yes," Rilla said. "Or at least wallowing doesn't help a thing. I've tried that for a month."

"I've been to plenty of parts of the city that are like that," Alec confirmed, nodding. Demons looooved the Lower East Side for some reason. "I'll... probably spend the day at the salle."

Not that that was much of a difference from how he spent every other day.

He paused for a moment before asking, "Anything noteworthy happen? On that trip?" It seemed there was still a part of him whose ears perked up whenever someone who appeared to be a mundane mentioned something of note happening in New York in particular. Differing universes aside, could it be a demon thing?

...No. It wasn't. But good try, Alec.

"Yeah, but I'm not wallowing," Flick pointed out, shrugging. "I'm just perpetually unhappy."

Hard to crawl out of that abyss.

Well, Flick was pretty sure Lucian Mandel was a psychotic devil in disguise but there was most likely no demon blood in him. But, who knew, actually? Flick had no idea.

"Spent fourteen days in a coma," Flick shared nonchalantly. "As the song would go 'baby did a bad bad thing.'"

Flick wasn't sure if Alec would know the song but it fit.

Rilla's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry. Did someone dear to you pass away?"

Pretty much everyone had. But, he wasn't going to share that. He shook his head.

"No. Just no reason to be happy with anything," he said, shrugging. He had his moments of feeling good but they were few and far between. "I don't see a point to it."

"That's so sad," Rilla said earnestly. "Have you tried cookies? I make really good shortbread cookies."

Flick raised an eyebrow. "Cookies aren't going to help. Years and years of cultivating my unhappiness won't be solved with a cookie or two."

"They're really good," Rilla wheedled. "Why do you cultivate being unhappy?"

"Because I'm good at it," Flick quipped flippantly. "It's a talent so I make sure I'm doubly good at it."

"Why would you want to be good at being unhappy?" Rilla asked, baffled.

"When the world beats you down enough, spits on you, laughs at you and does it constantly, you get used to be unhappy and you eventually accept it," Flick said bluntly.

"...Oh." Yeah, Alec hadn't been expecting that one. He didn't know the song, and he frowned, brow furrowing even as his posture straightened and he suddenly looked much more attentive and less... well, mopey. Force of habit. "What happened?"

"That's terrible," Rilla said in a very small voice. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize," Flick said, waving that away hurriedly. "Please don't. It happened and I'm fine with it. I'm just not gonna be the happy person you seem to be looking for. Because there's nothing left here."

"Someone taught me a lesson because I screwed over a whole lot of powerful people," Flick said, both revealing a little more about his life but keeping it vague as well.

"You can still have cookies and a cup of tea," Rilla said with a tiny smile. "You don't even have to be happy about them."

"You really planning on baking cookies?" Flick asked, curious. "The movie put you in that much of a mood?"

"Oh, I needed to bake some anyway," she said. "I send them to my brothers--" she checked herself, biting her lip, "my brother and friends on the front. Shortbread cookies travel well."

"Some lesson," Alec said, still looking mildly startled. Mildly, though. Other people might be somewhat more shocked by someone saying he'd spent two weeks in a coma. "I can see how that would sour you on taking future trips, yeah."

He wasn't going to ask about the screwing over powerful people. He and Flick had met all of twice, so he didn't feel like he should be prying. Besides, being with Sparkle had kind of trained it into him not to ask about hinted-at petty crimes, even if this one didn't sound quite so petty.

"I'll take a cookie but no tea," Flick decided with a shrug. "As long as we're agreed on me not being happy, I'm good. I still eat despite that."

"I'll be going back at some point," Flick said, shrugging a shoulder. He wasn't about to leave things as they were. There were plans to destroy running through his head.

"Probably sooner rather than later," he added. "I've still gotta burn the world down there."

He'd said that to someone already in the past week. Might as well use it again.

Rilla said, "I'll get a smile out of you yet," before bustling into the kitchen to get out butter, flour and sugar (and setting a kettle on for tea because now she wanted some).

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5th floor common room ; monday afternoon

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