fandomhighdorms | 5th floor common room ; friday afternoon

Flick still wasn't in the Christmas spirit. Bet you couldn't have guessed that, right? He hadn't gone Christmas shopping, he hadn't gone out and caroled, and he sure as hell hadn't thanked anyone for all the good stuff that had come to him this year because...there hadn't been a lot of good stuff to be thankful for.

But, Flick was out of his room, at least. After everything that had gone on recently, he was considering that an accomplishment. He was out of his room and stealing food from the fridge in the common room because that was what you did. He'd been intending to get a sandwich but something was wrong with the bread (all the freaking bread) so he'd just gone for cereal instead. The orange juice he'd found wasn't his either. Stolen food was the best food.

He took a seat on the couch and turned on the television, expecting to find nothing but holiday programming. That wouldn't change his mood at all, he knew, but he could at least repress all the bad crap and act like a normal human being for a few days. The act probably wouldn't last but he could give it a try.

[Mmm, vacation. Open post]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Isabelle had no Christmas spirit, although she'd bought some presents. Didn't really need Christmas to like presents, did she?

Not that she had any of those with her when she appeared in this common room. Her mere presence was gift enough!

"And what do we have on the television today?"

Flick didn't look up because he was a little busy tilting his head at the movie he'd stopped on. He hated it already and he'd only seen two minutes of it.

"I dunno," he finally answered, "but the words 'hunky Santa' have been said and I'm pretty sure a part of me is weeping."

Isabelle visibly perked up. (Flick not looking didn't mean it wasn't still visible.)

"Hunky?"

Of course that would catch her interest, Santa or no Santa. She strode over to take a seat on the couch. "I'm intrigued."

"Somehow that does not surprise me," Flick said, shaking his head and pointing to the movie he'd, for some insane reason, stopped on.

"Santa isn't someone I generally associate with being hunky," he added. "I'm too caught up in what he does living with all those tiny elves."

Something was going on there.

"I'm not well-versed enough in this bit of tradition to know the difference," Isabelle claimed. So she was deciding Santa could and perhaps even should be hunky. "There's nothing wrong with being hunky."

Edited 2013-12-20 20:34 (UTC)

"When you're Santa there is," he argued but he was just doing it because he could. He didn't feel that strongly about Santa to argue his attractiveness. "I mean, he's pretty much a stalker. Watches you all year long, sneaks into your house at night, gives you crap like clothes and socks and then expects you to feed him. You'd forgive all that because he looks good?"

Not that Santa did but still.

Edited 2013-12-20 20:40 (UTC)

"Yes."

Maybe not seriously. But she had no problem nodding solemnly with that reply.

"Creep."

That wasn't serious either.

"You know, he'd never put you first," he continued after a moment spent finishing his orange juice. "It would always be about the kids."

Isabelle waved her hand. "Oh, I have ways of making people put me first," she said, all easy confidence. Joking, yet still meaning it. "For long enough, anyway."

"I dunno, Santa's pretty committed..." Santa was a freaking myth but whatever, Flick could joke around. He did have it in him. "And you might not even be his type."

Well, he did like to surround himself with tiny, weird looking elves.

"Nonsense," Isabelle scoffed. "People whose type I'm not are rare, and rightfully so."

She might have even claimed to have been everyone's type... But that was someone else's schtick.

"All right, so how would you handle the beard?" Flick asked since he was thinking about this now thank you, Isabelle for that (though it was more lighthearted than what tended to be in his head so that was nice). "For some reason, I don't think you've dealt with a beard quite like that before."

Because that beard was white and huge and made Santa look like an old lumberjack.

"I'm an open-minded woman," Isabelle claimed. If such a thing was even possible for a Shadowhunter. They were amazingly judgey. "I'll try everything once. And that could be my one giant beard!"

"You know, if I believed in Santa or ever had any semblance of a normal Christmas, you would have just ruined it for me," he joked, shaking his head.

"Sex and Santa," he said, making mock gagging noises. "Two things that do not go together. Except in some people's fantasies, I guess. Not mine, though."

"People are into whatever they're into," Isabelle replied, shrugging. "Doesn't bother little old me."

As conservative a culture though she may have grown up in.

"How very open minded of you," Flick said, glancing over. "I'm sure Santa would appreciate it if he were real and not already shacked up with Mrs. Claus."

Now he was thinking about Santa having affairs. What in the hell.

"Alas. I think you're out of luck if you really do want a hunky Santa. Most...aren't."

"You'd be amazed at my ability to find a hunky just about anything," Isabelle replied as she directed her attention more towards the TV set again. "It's a gift. And a useful one."

"Oh, I am amazed about a great deal of things when it comes to you," Flick told her. Not all of the things were good things but he could still frame his statement as a compliment. "I'm sure if anyone could give brand new meaning to Christmas and the spirit of giving, it'd be you."

Isabelle wasn't so naive as to assume they were all positive things, anyway.

Although that did not mean she wasn't going to act as though they were. "Yes, I give new meanings to many things," she said. "But mostly fashion sense and being a badass."

"And I continue to be amazed by your massive ego," he said, smirking. "I don't say this often but I think it might even dwarf my ego and I know I have an ego."

He'd been told as much by many people in the past. "That a nature thing or a nurture thing?"

Isabelle tilted her head to the side, then shrugged a shoulder.

"Nature, probably," she decided. "I'm just naturally amazing."

Also, Alec had slightly less of a massive ego, so that went against the nurture theory.

"And you talk about me projecting an image..." He trailed off and laughed a bit, giving his head another shake. "While I don't doubt the truth in your words, there's a lot of projecting going around here."

He used a hand to gesture to her general area a few times.

"And what am I supposed to be projecting?"

A pretty specific image and she knew it (although she was sometimes more aware of it, and sometimes less), but she wasn't going to just admit to that. Come on.

"Pray tell, Flick."

"Confidence, bravado, machismo, the image that nothing touches you, nothing affects you, nothing gets to you," he said, leaning back against the sofa and looking over at her.

"The image that you're up here -- " He raised a hand above his head. "And that we're all down here." And his other hand went way below the hand in the air.

"Superiority, supremacy over everyone else and the image of knowing that you could play puppet master for almost everyone to get them to do what you want with a bat of an eyelash or a smile."

Was he close? He thought so but even if he wasn't, that was still what he saw her projecting.

Isabelle looked like maybe, just maybe she was about to say something profound in response to that. Or at least comment on whether he was right or wrong.

But then she said, "I think machismo is actually only available to guys."

Page 1 of 3

5th floor common room ; friday afternoon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject