Seralah loved the dress that Lillandyr had conjured for her (she’d have to ask how she’d done it later), but lamented that it didn’t have a single pocket and she did wonder what had happened to her original dress. And stockings. And underthings. She felt positively nude under her dress without her bloomers and wool stockings.
She knew she mentally fussed over these things because she was very nervous. Part of her could not believe she was doing this. It was a little mad. But as Lillandyr had said, she just knew. She suspected she’d known the moment she’d gazed deeply into Aronsen’s crimson and gold eyes. The entire time she’d drained her blood for this project, she’d not had a single doubt.
The only doubt she had now was his answer. Oh, if he said no she feared she wouldn’t take it gracefully. It was a little irregular for a woman to propose, she reckoned. Seralah hoped it wasn’t off putting. She’d told him, though. Warned him even that she planned on courting him properly.
Feeling a little faint and shaky, she entered the foyer where the tree (which had taken twelve hours to perfect and the event she suspected had absolutely exhausted Manus’s patience with her) glittered over a mountain of gifts. Aronsen dutifully waited on her, sitting on a low couch wearing the very handsome Winterveil sweater she’d insisted he wear. He was such a good sport. Endlessly patient with her. He indulged her every whim.
Just seeing him, gazing up at the tree rather absently curled her lips in a broad smile that ached her cheeks. Already, she ruined her makeup as tears stung her eyes. It didn’t matter though, as she squeezed the ring tightly in her fist.
Courage, she told herself as he turned to look at her.
Before he could shower her with compliments, she saw them in his appreciative gaze. The way his eyes swept over her, his lips parting a little as if she were truly the most beautiful thing in the world. She knew then that Lillandyr had been right. Her dress didn’t matter, but she was glad she’d gone to the other woman for help anyway.
He showered her with praise, rising to go to her, cupping her face. Always so gentle with her, as if she could shatter at any moment.
“What’s the matter? Why are you crying?” He asked, his heavy brow drawn low, menace in his voice.
She couldn’t answer his question because she had to say the words she had practiced alone in her room a thousand times.
“I wanted to give you your Winterveil present early,” she explained, “under this perfect tree on the eve of my very favorite holiday.” Her throat felt tight as his features softened. His eyes held concern and confusion at her tears, but he’d understand in a moment.
“Give me your hand,” she instructed and he complied. She laughed softly when he presented it palm down and she gently turned it over.
With trembling fingers, she very carefully placed the ring in his palm. Science had made it possible, but alchemy and magic made it warm. It throbbed, a soft little beat, that was the twin of the march of her heart. So he could always feel her and how he made the organ race.
His brow pinched as he looked down at it. He opened his mouth to speak but she held up her hand. Not yet.
“I’ve struggled with magic all of my life. Science? It just makes sense. Cold and logical. It has order that one can test, rely on. Magic? Seemed so wild to me, beyond my grasp and understanding because it’s just something you feel inside.”
Tears slid down her cheeks ruining her conjured makeup. “I couldn’t connect to it…inside myself.” Her smile broadened even as the tears continued. “Until you. The day I met you, I felt it. You coaxed it from me in a way I could not ignore, even if it flummoxed me. And magic doesn’t care a bit about logic, not in its natural state. It doesn’t care that this is too soon. Or unlikely. And neither do I. It is not something I can measure or test. But it is something I deeply know and feel.”
She drew in a breath, no longer trembling. She sweetly closed his fingers around the band. “My magic made this ring. My blood made the iron. And science wed them both.”
Necromancy made the blood alive in the iron and bound it to her flesh so he could always feel the beating of her heart.
Seralah kept her slender hand over his as he looked at her with an expression she couldn’t read…but could feel. “I would very much like to marry you. If you will have me. I just…want to love you for a long time. For the rest of my life. We can’t promise forever even if we want to. But I can promise that I will be grateful for every moment time and fate grants me the wonder of your love.”
Lillandyr lay naked, face down in the bed she shared with Heathcliff. It was seven o’clock in the evening on Winterveil Eve and she was not feeling particularly festive given the recent events. She decided not to think or talk about it all until she was alone with Heathcliff out of the castle on whatever trip he had planned for them.
The pillow was damp with her tears which came regardless of her avoidance of the thoughts that crept in at the corners, an infestation of guilt, self loathing and fear. She dozed off and on and refused to dream. Manus’s presence in her mind when she slept was shut out, ignored. Her mind was her own, a fortress of heartbreak for her to endure alone.
“Lillandyr,” came a little whisper and a dip in the mattress.
Half asleep, she ignored it.
“Lillandyr,” came the whisper again, tinged with anxiety. A woman’s voice.
She could feel the warmth of another body sidle up to her. “Lillandyr.”
Fuck’s sake.
Small, cold fingers touched her bare shoulder. “Lillandyr.”
All right, it was annoying now and the light tapping accompanying the plaintive murmur of her name filled her with a sudden, boiling, murderous rage. With a snarl, she rolled over and sat up, dislodging the interloper who squeaked and fell backwards on her backside, wool skirts and crinoline puffed up around her legs comically.
Seralah blinked owlishly at her with doe eyes fixed on her bare chest. Her cheeks went scarlet and she looked up at the ceiling to preserve Lillandyr’s modesty. “Oh no! I am sorry.” Her small, nervous hands gathered up the silk sheets and thrust them at Lillandyr.
”They’re just tits,” she huffed, raking a hand through the wild tangle of her gilded hair. She swatted away Sera’s hands and found her crumpled, silk robe and shrugged that on instead.
“Yes. Yes they are tits. However, I didn’t mean to…see them. Apologies. This is a dire emergency. I don’t know who else to ask. You are the only one who can help me.” Seralah was…
Crying. A lot. Her eyes were red and puffy and big, fat tears slid down her cheeks and dripped off her chin.
Mashing the heels of her palms into her eyes and groaning, Lillandyr wasn’t sure she could handle another emergency. There’d been nothing but fucking emergencies since she’d arrived at the castle. “What’s the matter?” She finally asked, wrinkling her nose at the emotional display, shoulders tensed.
Seralah twisted her fingers in her lap as she sat on the edge of the bed. “This is very embarrassing.”
Lillandyr made a face.
“Look at my dress. Make an assessment,” Seralah blurted.
Seralah Bloodhaven was a very pretty woman. She looked like a little doll with her huge eyes, very pale skin and delicate features. She also looked far younger than she was and the dress wasn’t doing her any favors. It was cut in such a way to conceal the lithe figure underneath. From chin to ankle just a wall of black wool.
“It’s an ugly fucking dress,” Lillandyr said, reaching blind for the smokes Heathcliff left on her beside table. She knew he did so she didn’t need to look. She set one between her teeth and willed it to light.
Seralah nodded. “Yes. It’s ugly isn’t it? Not flattering. I’ve always dressed this way. My mother really…was very intense about modesty and I just like it. It feels very safe. Like a hug.”
Lillandyr groaned, features softening despite herself. She hated that Sera was an adorable person. It made it impossible to hate her and she really wanted to hate her. Lilladyr’s brow crinkled, she was missing something. “Wait. Wait,” she said, inhaling the caustic smoke, feeling the blood thistle smooth her edges. “What’s the emergency?”
”I don’t feel pretty,” Seralah said, bottom lip wobbling. “And I don’t…I suppose I could ask Manus to dress me but…he keeps putting me in very strange outfits because I think he’s annoyed with me. I don’t think he likes Winterveil, a real bah humbug.”
Lillandyr arched a brow. Most would tell Sera that not feeling pretty did not constitute an emergency, but Lillandyr understood this perfectly. “Well. You ARE pretty. We could dress you in a potato sack and you’d be pretty, but…I suppose I wouldn’t feel very fetching in that black shroud you’ve put on. It looks itchy.”
Sera nodded, snuffling. “It’s very itchy, yes.” She paused and then burst into a fresh wave of tears. “You’re so beautiful and glamorous. I just gasp every time I see you. You look smart and interesting. Sharp and clever. I look like a fourteen year old going to a funeral.”
Flattery got Seralah everywhere and Lillandyr hmm’d. “That’s a bit harsh,” she said, warming immediately. She took her smoke and stuffed it between Sera’s lips. “Relax. Stop crying. Who told you that bullshit?”
”My cousins,” she said, coughing lightly and pretending to inhale.
“Your cousins are being bitches. They’re probably mad about something else or jealous. Or stupid. I don’t know. Anyway…I can help.” All of her troubles melted away for these precious moments. Lillandyr wasn’t going to think deeply as to the why of it. It sounded uncomfortable and antithetical to her being.
Lillandyr studied Seralah, cocking her head to the side. “You should wear jewel tones. Especially emerald green. Velvet. Silk is too slutty for you.”
Seralah handed Lillandyr the blood thistle cigarette back, clearly not enjoying it. “I do like velvet. And green.”
”What’s the occasion?” Lillandyr asked. “We’re going to overdress for it anyway, but I’m nosey.”
Seralah smiled in pleasure, flushing, lowering her lashes girlishly. “I am giving Aronsen his Winterveil present.” Her shoulders drew up and she looked shy but about to bust with excitement anyway.
“What’s the gift? I bet he was hard to shop for. I wouldn’t have a clue what to get him. A hat? I don’t know. I’m bad at gifts.” Lillandyr finished off the smoke and made it disappear. Ashtrays were stinky.
Seralah looked up, face flushed, eyes bright. It was nice to see color on her face. Lillandyr had thought she’d been looking sickly. Sera drew something small out of her vest pocket and thrust her hand out. In it, was a ring of true silver with a dark metal band in the middle, iron possibly. “I couldn’t manage to drain enough of my blood to make the entire thing out of iron, but I think the sentiment is clear.”
Lillandyr recoiled a little. “What?!”
”The iron band in the middle is made from the iron in my blood. It took two liters. An elf’s body contains approximately five liters of blood so it was…well…I would have died if I’d made the entire thing out of iron. I hope he doesn’t see it as a half measure.”
Lillandyr gingerly took the ring and examined it, a little horrified, but impressed. “He’s gonna scold you for it but he’ll love it.” She laughed a little. “He’ll say yes.”
”I hope so. I think it’ll improve my chances if I look my best,” Seralah said earnestly, eyes brimming with tears again. “I love him very much. I know it’s too soon, but…I don’t care.”
Lillandyr shrugged. “You just know. I think you could show up in rags covered in dirt, but…let’s make you look devastating. Gorgeous. Sexy.”
Sera nodded. “Yes I want to be very sexy. Which is why you must help me because you are very sexy. Even now! I don’t know how you do it.”
Preening, Lillandyr basked in the little girl crush Seralah had on her and handed back the precious ring. When one was in love, seeing someone else in love was…nice. Cute. It made her insides feel like they’d been filled with champagne, bubbly and warm. “I don’t have the energy to explain it, but I can dress you the same way Manus can. I have this magic. So, don’t freak out. Close your eyes.”
Seralah obeyed, spine straight, hands demurely folded in her lap. She shut her eyes.
Lillandyr found it both fun and remarkably easy to conjure the perfect dress for Seralah. Sure, she could have put her in a slinky party dress that plunged scandalously low, but…that wasn’t Sera. Sera was sweet, but a little strange. Like a picnic in a graveyard.
The bodice had a sweetheart neckline, showing just enough chest to be enticing. It hugged her slender torso and the gathered bustle of emerald velvet over the mermaid tail skirt was perfect. Princess sleeves trimmed in black lace and a capulet of more of the same intricate, dark lace covered her shoulders, but left her neck bare.
It only took Lillandyr seconds. Then Seralah gasped as she felt the cold, heavy weight of perfect, dark green emeralds settle against her throat. They hung from her ears and settled on her fingers.
Seralah had lovely eyes, so Lillandyr lined these in kohl with a thought, smudging it artfully with a sweep of shimmering, emerald powder on the lids. Her lips she left bare, just glossy. Soft, peachy pink blush warmed her cool features and contrasted deliciously with all the green.
Her hair…was too severe so Lillandyr just gave her bangs. A bit of a gamble as she didn’t think she could regrow someone’s hair, but it worked perfectly. It preserved the charming, doll-like quality while maturing her a little at the same time. With a musical hmm she made messy, soft curls to spill around her face and shoulders.
“All done,” Lillandyr said, plucking up another blood thistle cigarette. “If you don’t like it, I can try something else but I think you’re stuck with the bangs.”
Seralah excitedly slid off the bed and rushed to the bathroom to look in the mirror. Lillandyr’s lips curled in a smug grin when she heard the gasp, then the exclamation of pleasure. She expected this.
What she did not expect was for Sera to hurry back and throw her arms around her and kiss her cheeks and cry. “Oh, Lillandyr! This is perfect. I look…so pretty. I feel so pretty! Thank you!”
Lillandyr stiffened and scoffed and waved her off. “Settle down. You’ll ruin your make up.” She paused, looking petulant and annoyed, but feeling…traitorous affection. “You look amazing. Now. Go get him.”
She reached up and gave Sera’s cheek a pinch which made the other woman giggle and squeeze her tight before dashing off.
Lillandyr sighed, charmed despite herself. Excited for Aronsen. He deserved that kind of love. Even if it was a little intense…aggressive even. He needed to be shown and not be second choice for once.
Feeling saintly, Lillandyr conjured herself cake for breakfast at seven thirty in the evening, her spirits much improved.
Lottie had never received a Winterveil present and thus, had never given the holiday much thought. Celebrations, birthdays, these were things she had never and could never have so she left them to the living. Though, she liked the energy of Winterveil, all the loved ones gathered close, their spirits bright with everything from anger to love to annoyance to joy.
All the same, it was like being out in the frozen cold, looking through frosted glass. Forgotten. Alone. As she moved through Dracone Castle, only amusing for parlor tricks. She drifted around the enormous Winterveil tree Seralah had made Manus conjure. It was at least twenty feet tall and ringed in brightly colored gifts.
She liked many of the ornaments. There was one that drew her in particular, a glass teardrop with a miniature angel inside, surrounded by a nest of gilded tinsel so it looked like a captured cloud. The angel was pretty with golden wings and long, dark hair. But the ornament made her sad in a strange way she couldn’t understand. A little toy, steam locomotive chugged around the base of the tree, weaving through a candy colored city of gifts. She read the names on the packages.
There weren’t any for her, not that she expected there to be. What could one even give a ghost? Still, she wished there was a present under the tree for her. Just an empty box with pretty wrapping would have sufficed so she could feel included. Thought of.
A ripple of sharp sadness went through her when she saw there wasn’t one for Roval either. Of everyone there, she thought he deserved the most gifts. To see him not even get one…upset her.
Again, she felt so helpless. She would give him a hundred gifts if she were alive. Thoughtful ones to reflect his noble character. In the parlor, when the magic was a storm he bravely protected everyone. Even her, though he didn’t know it. It had hurt him too, made him bleed.
That moment, watching him stand tall even when afraid and hurting sent her from infatuation into love. She couldn’t bear it if there was no gift for Roval on Winterveil morning. She knew how it felt to be left out.
Lottie spent some time in thought, drifting through the castle’s crypt. She liked it there, the spirits were not mindless or fearful and simply curious and tolerant of her. It felt like the only place belonged, though she knew this feeling was dangerous. To belong to the grave was to eventually disappear.
It was easier to move through walls and floors. She felt much stronger.
This gave her a dangerous idea.
She was going to go home and try something.
Traveling outside felt very strange and it took all of her will to stay together. The natural world wanted to disperse her spirit as was the order of things, but every bit of her energy resisted this. Love, she thought, that’s what made her stronger than the will of creation to see her move on.
She flowed over the land, startling nighttime creatures who could see or sense spirits. Bloodhaven manor no longer belonged to her sister, but the man who had taken it from her had not yet set foot on the estate and everything remained untouched.
Lottie could feel her strength return and it was easier to hold herself together when she crossed through the door over the threshold. This was home, where she had spent most of her existence.
That night, the spirit of her mother was not there, much to her relief. She had been her murderer and she supposed her mother would not be pleased to see her. She hoped that she’d moved on to whatever punishment that surely awaited her.
Lottie sank into the floor, deep into her own family crypt. She hadn’t gone down there since her father’s death. If his spirit had been tethered, she would have been sad for him to be trapped in the In Between like her. If he had been gone, she would have been so sad she had missed a chance to speak to him. Now, surely, he was long gone, his energy returned to the beautiful world.
Inside his tomb he was only bones and rotted cloth, his skeletal hands grasping the sword that had been his father’s, passed down from the first Bloodhaven patriarch to the last, over his chest. The golden stag of her House decorated the hilt, antlers holding a ruby blood moon. Sanguis Meminit was inscripted on the blade, her House motto. Father didn’t need his sword anymore and had left no son to pass it to.
Roval should have a noble blade with heavy history and honor. If she could have asked her father, he would have agreed, she knew this deeply within her soul.
With these thoughts, golden threads spilled out of her being, winding around her father’s remains, trailing off and upwards, leading her to the place the heart of her called home. Lottie knew she could move the sword and herself. Distance was for flesh. Time was for the living. She could transcend both as all of her vibrated and sang with the joy of seeing these golden threads of love leave her being, feeling them connect to Roval and her sister.
She curled herself around the blade and sent all of her energy home to Dracone Castle, to Roval where he slept, his dark curls spilled across his pillow, his angelic features soft with sleep.
I will never love him more than I do right now, Lottie thought, the room lit with the gold of her love, the threads winding around them both.
The sword of House Bloodhaven lay at the foot of his bed, softly gleaming in the winter moonlight. A noble blade for a noble man as the ghost of Charlotte Bloodhaven faded softly, exhausted, thin and pale in the In Between.
♫ Everybody says they're fine
But I know we're not alright
I know we're not alright
It's always dark as just before the light
I know your silence is a deadly sound
It's never easy when you're breaking down
But I'll be there when you come around ♫ 🪽
🔥🎧 Come Around - Papa Roach 🎧🔥
A message to all my friends who are having struggles, emotions, hard time behind the screens. You are not alone and never be afraid to reach out when you most needed. I'll be there when you come around. Much love, Winter 🐺🪽💙
(Nahi’s Performance for the Succulent Tart “All I Want for Winterveil” celebration. A couple pieces here got cut out for time so sorry to those who got missed - especially Gertrude. )
Tal’s magic scene setting leaves a holiday tree with sparkling snow coating each branch, perfectly placed decorations from little rainbows to ornately decorated masks, even the hooks shimmer in silver. At the base there is a fuschia tree skirt embroidered with Merry Winterveil, all in all it is decorated impeccably as any Tart tree should be.
As the music begins Nahi is on the stage curled up asleep near the tree, her head on a pink, purple and blue satin pillow. Sitting up and yawning, a hand covering her mouth, the other extending up in the air, she is wearing what looks to be a man’s red flannel shirt, the size making it look like it was liberated from a lover’s closet. A deep green scarf is twisted up on top of her head, one of the ends falling down to cover one of her eyes, blowing upwards to try and move it, frowning when it only lifts slightly, trying again harder with the same result. Sighing dramatically, giving up on the fruitless effort, Nahi reaches her up to just untie the scarf, two long purple braids tumble loose with their ends tied off with patterned red and green ribbons.
Standing up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, the Sin’dorei stretches up tall, wiggling her fingers into the air and raising onto tippy toes. Mismatched socks hug her calves, one red with a dog in a Greatfather Winter hat on, the other green with mistletoe over a sign that says, ‘I’ve been naughty, now what?’. Nahi picks up a raggedy Omen plushie, putting it under one arm as she walks half-asleep across the stage tripping over a red sack, spilling presents across the ground. Picking up the bag, she bends over allowing a peek at the hem of little green booty shorts, beginning to put the brightly colored packages quickly back inside.
Pausing after just replacing just a couple, she looks around, taking her bottom lip between her small fangs, Nahi quickly moves to the side looking backstage. A little sparkle begins to show in her violet eyes, she dances gracefully to the other side and peeking back around the other side of the curtain. Skipping to the front the dark skinned woman puts her hand up looking past the audience, a totally unneeded gesture in such a small space. Relaxing as she doesn’t spy who she is looking for, she deftly snags a Greatfather Winter hat off Tal with a wink placing it crookedly on her head, her ears sticking up outside the white boundary, before she returns to the loot-filled bag.
Flopping down and setting Omen beside her, Nahilvi picks up a present, shaking it beside her ear, checking over her shoulder before reading the tag, turning it to show everyone a tag with ‘Ho Ho Ho, for Ryland’. Nahi kicks her legs a little with excitement, untying the green and white striped ribbon and opening the box. Reaching in, she pulls out a pair of booty shorts covered in bright red, almost pink, sequins, brushing her hand over the sequins shifting their color to beautiful forest green. Turning shorts around to show the backside to the audience, pictures of Greatfather Winter graced each cheek. Placing them back in the box, she ties the bow and sets Ry’s gift aside next to her plushie.
Nahilvi looks through the boxes pushing different ones aside without checking any tags, covering her eyes with her hand and picking one at random. Peeking between her fingers she beams a smile, holding it up to show the audience a tag that looks like a deer's head with ribbons tangled around the horns ‘Leon’ in sharply blocked letters. Slipping her finger under a taped edge Nahi looks inside, then quickly tears the paper pulling out a shallow box that is the deep purple of a night sky with a glowing silver dusk lily on the top, she mouths, “Yesss.” Opening the lid and setting it against her leg, everyone can read the elegant raised script, ‘Suramar’s Finest Chocolates Filled with Liqueurs from Across Azeroth’. Pulling one of the candies of the package, taking a bite and rolling her eyes in ecstasy, slumping a little as if she had just passed the pinnacle of pleasure. One by one she picks up some of the decadent dark, almost black, rich chocolate, randomly throwing them out to people in the crowd.
Nahi leaves the rest of the chocolates next to her, and reaches all the way into the bottom of the big red bag, pulling out a silver and gold wrapped rectangle box, turning it over in her hands and not finding a tag. Setting it down she looks into the bag, digging through it, frowning when she comes up without a tag. Putting the gift aside she grabs another present, tugging at the end of the bow the red striped ribbon falling into her lap. Removing the top of the box she looks inside and pulls out a mechanical chew toy in the shape of a chick, blinking at it then picking up a snowman shaped tag, nodding her head and letting the others read it, ‘To Jack’. Carefully returning that to its box she ties it back up and sets it over with Ry’s.
Going back to digging through the assorted presents looking for a certain one, she checks tags on a number of boxes then grins. Holding up a present wrapped in paper with ugly sweaters all over it, Nahi shows it off with the ‘Dicenne’ on a sticker that says ‘Do not open until Winter’s Veil’. Carefully unwrapping it she holds up an apron, then giggles, standing up she slips it over her head, the front reading, ‘This Guy Rubs His Own Meat’. Modeling it, then sinking back onto the floor with it on, she just pushes the packaging aside, taking another of the chocolates and eating it.
The Sin’dorei’s gaze is drawn to the box without a tag and she taps her fingers on her knees, drawing her lips to the side in a puzzled look. Shaking her head, she goes back to the main pile and selects another present, a red bag with a hot pink ribbon, Nahi looks at the tag and smiles, her consternation at the mystery box fading away. Lifting the bag in the air she holds up the tag where everyone can see the gold laminated background with ‘To Tartt’ in a scrawling script. Nahi begins to pluck all different kinds of tissue paper from white with blue snowflakes to plain green from the bag, finally discovering a black box that opens to display a black leather choker with a pendant that reads, ‘Metal Chic’. Sometimes Father Winter just *got* people.
Setting aside the presents Nahi turns her head, listening and looking around double checking that no one had found her in the chaos of her pilfering. Scampering over to a small table next to the tree, she picks up a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, taking a drink while walking back. In for a copper, in for a gold at this point. Lowering to her knees she sets her treat haul down with the chocolates, taking a cookie off the plate and nonchalantly biting the leg off a gingerbread man. Pushing packages aside she picks up a pink bag with crowns stamped all over it, checking the tag she smiles, the wicked gleam gone, her expression softening as she holds up a tag that says, ‘Gertrude, the Best Little Princess’. Immediately she adds that to the pile that seemed safe from collection.
Taking another bite of the cookie, she idly moves packages this way and that, but her eyes keep falling to the mystery box, picking it up again she tips it this way and that, something inside moving enough to make noise. Controlling her inquisitive nature Nahi once again sets it aside and focuses on a long, thin box wrapped in green and red paper. Smiling as she lets the others read a snowflake tag with ‘To Cythion’ on it. Slipping a candy stripe manicured fingernail under the seam of the paper, she pops the tape and opens the box. Purple eyes light up as she pulls out black fishnet stockings with pink sequins on them. Lifting her eyebrows she shifts to her butt pulling off her red and green socks, then in a little reverse strip tease Nahi rolls one stocking up, placing it over her foot and drawing it slowly up her leg, when the band tightens around her toned thigh she snaps the elastic with a wicked grin. Repeating with the other one, she finishes then sits with her legs to the side and runs her hands teasingly up her legs. Clearly she was going to owe her pink haired friend a replacement.
No longer able to resist, Nahi picks up the silver and gold wrapped box, making quick work of an artistically crafted ribbon, pausing as she stares at the gift without opening the lid. Going back to the bag she picked it up and dumped presents over the ground, then shook it, not a single misplaced tag fell out, not knowing who it was for seems to take some of the fun out of the opening. With a frustrated expression she shook it next to her ear and a buzzing sound came from the box, shaking it again the buzzing stopped. Slowly she opened the lid and a louder buzzing noise began to fill the room, she put her hand into the box so fast she almost dropped it and the sound stopped. With a sweet smile and a wide eyed blink she put the lid back on, Nahi shoved it behind her, whispering “Oh, that one is mine.”
Completely composed even with the possibly embarrassing almost reveal of her gift, Nahi chooses a box off the dwindling pile, it is the largest that the bag had held and she tosses it up into the air, light as a feather. Delicately untying a huge pink bow she opens the lid looking at a box tag decorated to mimic the present itself ‘Barry and Phe’ in purple ink. Her expression becomes puzzled when she reaches into the box, and pulls out a pillow that says, ‘Woke Up Sexy as Fel’ on it. Dipping in again she pulls out a second one, reading it then turning it out for the audience to read, ‘Get Naked’. Nahi chuckled, while she put them back into the box, tying it back up, the woman was good with knots and pushes it over to the growing ‘not for me’ pile.
Dropping her eyes to the ground with a sly smile, she found a shirt sized box wrapped in a pretty paper with hearts and snowflakes on it, reaching for a glittery ribbon, the chimney shaped tag with the name ‘Kaisina’. Nahi works to slowly unwrap the gift, it was clear by now that she had to have done this before with her expert level of unwrapping, there was not a single tear in the wrapping paper. Opening the box with a curious look, pulling out a purple cropped tee that says,’You Are in My InappropriateThoughts’ on it. Holding it up to her chest, covering part of the slogan on the apron she had yet to take off, tipping the shirt side to side. With a sigh she folds it up, putting it back in the box, carefully wrapping it with skill, every crease matching as if it hadn’t been touched.
Reaching for another set of boxes that were tied together, she turned a star shaped tag over, ‘Trixany’ is written in a beautiful flowing script. Nahi reaches for the bow and then her head lifts looking like a doe caught in a clearing, looking around, a finger placed to her lips she stands. Running over to look backstage Nahi whispers, “Oh crap…” Pulling Dice’s apron over her head, she shoves it back into the box it came in, hastily tying a ribbon around it, not the one that came with it, but no one should notice that, she hopes.
Grabbing the boxes she had not gotten into, shoving them back in the bag, tackling the pile she had set aside after rewrapping, Nahi mixes them in with the others. Looking around at the chaos with her eyes wide she snags up the remainder of the chocolates, tossing them out to the crowd. The rest of the paper, bows and opened boxes she flattens as much as she can, dumping the whole mess behind the tree, frowning at how much still shows, Nahi arranges the tree skirt to help hide the evidence. Quick feet carry her back to pick up Omen and her ‘special’ gift, shoving that into her pillowcase, Nahi laid back down, tucks her arm around her plushie and closes her eyes.
(Tags to everyone! @succulent-tart , @rylandfalkov , @noonmutter , @dicenne , @tarttsweetshriek , @cythion , @straightouttatheashes , @jackarychaoti @trixcuomo sorry if I missed any - sneaks in to add @talthorn-sylvoran 💜💜💜)
