Third Floor Common Room, Friday Evening

[noonedecidesmyfate]

Belle had spent much of the day in her room where there had been no mistletoe. Now she was in the mood for a change of scenery and a cup of tea and maybe a snack.

The common room provided all three things. It was different from her room, there was a kettle and an assortment of teas, and as usual there were cookies to be found in the cupboards.

There was also some holiday greenery lurking in the corners looking perfectly innocent. Belle really should have paid more attention to that book yesterday that had tried to warn her about mistletoe. If she had she might have left the room with her tea and cookies rather than taking a seat on the couch.


[Open common room is open, one is expected (omg you'll never guess who), with SP warnings because this was going to happen earlier but this week was exhausting and I definitely took an hour+ nap when I got home from work and may still go to bed early]

Comments

[apocalypsehow]

Such a mystery.

Five wasn't exactly what people would call a social butterfly. But he was always on search for decent coffee.

"Tea?" he said, making a face as he teleported in and toward the pot.

[noonedecidesmyfate]

Nobody could have seen this coming.

"I like tea," Belle pointed out. She might also be avoiding coffee out of stubbornness. "Why don't you use the door like a reasonable person?"

[apocalypsehow]

"Why?" Five countered, pouring himself a cup since it was there. "I don't need to."

[noonedecidesmyfate]

"You don't need to flit about, either," Belle countered.

What if she'd spilled her tea because you startled her, Five? Huh?

Meanwhile, the greenery quietly continued lurking in the corners. Biding its time.

[apocalypsehow]

It just had to figure out how best to approach this.

"I don't flit." He very much did.

[noonedecidesmyfate]

"What would you call it then?" Flitting about was absolutely the correct term here.

[apocalypsehow]

"I move in a manner that comes naturally to me." Via flitting.

[noonedecidesmyfate]

"Fine. You flit about naturally."

[apocalypsehow]

"Thank you," Five replied smugly. Then paused as there a strange, slithery noise from somewhere in the room.

[noonedecidesmyfate]

"Did you hear that?" Belle asked, looking around for the source of the noise.

Probably nothing to worry about, right?

[apocalypsehow]

"Is that one of those gremlin things?" No, no. Much worse!

[noonedecidesmyfate]

"Oh, I hope not." Belle had avoided them so far and planned on continuing to do so.

"Is there something moving on the ceiling?"

[apocalypsehow]

Five looked up and squinted at it. "Is that a plant?"

[noonedecidesmyfate]

"It's green," Belle said, moving to get a closer look. Rookie mistake, that.

[apocalypsehow]

Which was why the berry part decided to drop down over their heads. All sweet and proper.

"...no."

Very eloquent, Five.

[noonedecidesmyfate]

Belle batted at it, very ineffectively, with one hand. She couldn't help it if she was short!

"It's just a plant." Isn't it? She should have paid more attention to that book on Thursday. It had tried to warn her. Sort of.

[apocalypsehow]

"It's a mistletoe," Five said, reaching for a butter knife to murder it.

[noonedecidesmyfate]

"That's only poisonous if you eat it," Belle said, looking at that knife and taking a step back. "Cutlery may not be the answer."

[apocalypsehow]

Yes, but what about the vine that lashed itself around his wrist?

"What the hell?"

[noonedecidesmyfate]

Well, that might be a problem.

"I don't think it's meant to do that!" Belle said. She also didn't think it was meant to be grabbing her either, and yet here they both were. Entangled by mistletoe vines.

[apocalypsehow]

"You think?" Five demanded.

[noonedecidesmyfate]

"Do something about it!"

With your butterknife or your flitting or whatever, Five.

[apocalypsehow]

"Oh, now you want my help," Five replied, snagging her wrist to teleport them out of it's grasp.

Only for more vines to immediately latch on.

[noonedecidesmyfate]

"You made it worse! Why did you make it worse?"

Trying to pull herself out of the vines' grip was also making them hold on tighter.

[apocalypsehow]

"Shouting at me doesn't help!" he replied, viciously stabbing at a vine while the berries made kissy noises at them.