[Fortescue had intended to go to Space Christmas, except a tiny part of her is still hard-wired to not go outside of her room. Part of her had wondered if all the people together would make things go back to the way they'd been. That paranoid part of her had won out, as it usually does; it's kept her alive for the better part of fourteen years. Disregarding it is slightly unnatural.
Except here she is, out walking, disregarding her paranoia in an attempt at "normality" (what passes for it, around here), and her cat's sudden yowl brings her out of any so this isn't so bad she may have been experiencing. Jazz has encountered the mistletoe first, trotting ahead of her, and hisses, arching his back, puffing his fur out as the mistletoe attempts to grab him.]
Watch it, furball—
[Jazz is lucky. He's small, fast, and dislikes plants except for chewing on. And, sometimes, rolling in. Fortescue is able to pull him back and away, but not before the mistletoe grabs her by the arm. She scowls as more threads around one of her legs, pulling her to it, and is about to light herself on fire to teach it a lesson when she notices something. An eye. Blinking at her.
And there's a growl from... somewhere within the green. Does that mean this thing is more alive than usual? It hasn't actually hurt her yet, does she really want to light a sentient thing on fire? This moral debate is what keeps her tied up, though she's also unsure of how the ship would handle a sudden (controlled) fire in one of its corridors. She's wary of sprinklers.
no subject
Except here she is, out walking, disregarding her paranoia in an attempt at "normality" (what passes for it, around here), and her cat's sudden yowl brings her out of any so this isn't so bad she may have been experiencing. Jazz has encountered the mistletoe first, trotting ahead of her, and hisses, arching his back, puffing his fur out as the mistletoe attempts to grab him.]
Watch it, furball—
[Jazz is lucky. He's small, fast, and dislikes plants except for chewing on. And, sometimes, rolling in. Fortescue is able to pull him back and away, but not before the mistletoe grabs her by the arm. She scowls as more threads around one of her legs, pulling her to it, and is about to light herself on fire to teach it a lesson when she notices something. An eye. Blinking at her.
And there's a growl from... somewhere within the green. Does that mean this thing is more alive than usual? It hasn't actually hurt her yet, does she really want to light a sentient thing on fire? This moral debate is what keeps her tied up, though she's also unsure of how the ship would handle a sudden (controlled) fire in one of its corridors. She's wary of sprinklers.
What Fortescue settles on is mumbling—]
You have got to be kidding.