gooseberryhigh | MISTLETOE

MISTLETOE

Casey Patterson spots a familiar, funny little plant on the side of the trail, and recognizes it as last year's magical mistletoe. Whether they love to smooch or were hoping to cause some chaos and miss classes, Casey sneaks the plant into the lodge. With the help of a little magical miracle-gro, the building is soon infested once again.

By lunchtime, mistletoe has sprouted all over the Lodge. Anyone who is unlucky enough to walk underneath a sprig of it is trapped in place with their feet rooted to the ground. This is inconvenient enough, but the only way to free a trapped student is with a kiss.

HOW THIS WORKS

Mistletoe is growing like vines throughout the lodge, hanging from the ceiling, apparently attempting to position itself to "trap" students.

By noon, it's widespread enough that it's become a serious inconvenience. Classes are not cancelled, but under the circumstances, students are forgiven for tardiness.

If your character walks under a sprig of mistletoe, their feet are rooted to the spot.

The only thing that will free them is a kiss. Cheek kisses or a kiss to the back of the hand are sufficient. So is a kiss on the lips, but chances are, most people will opt for something more chaste.

Mr. Hightower is busy all day, and cancels Herbology until he can get a handle on this, but he knows what to do after last year's debacle. Jonathan Wilde is excused from classes to help him. The mistletoe is highly resistant to being cut, hexed, set on fire, or exposed to magical weed killer. (Also, please don't set things on fire in the lodge???)

The lodge is not as large as Hogwarts castle, but it's still spacious with plenty of corridors to get lost in if you want to get your character stranded.

Post your character to a location below if they got stuck. If you're waiting for someone in particular, indicate who's going to free your character in the subject line. Otherwise, comments are considered open for a random rescuer.

The mistletoe will be gone by curfew.

» Atrium: The busy sitting area of the Lodge. There's lots of mistletoe, but just as many people to save you.

» Cafeteria: Bustling at mealtimes, quiet for the rest of the day.

» First Floor Halls & Balconies: Winding corridors with windows that look out into the woods.

» Second Floor Halls & Balconies: Long hallways, some of which overlook the atrium and the students below.

» Third Floor Halls & Balconies: These balconies have a stunning view of the lake and surrounding forests. They are also the least populated.

» Classrooms: Some are in use, some are empty.

» Library: Is nowhere sacred?! Ms. Petrichor is incensed at the mistletoe in her library. Every time she finds a new sprig, she marks the floor with an angry X.

» OOC - QUESTIONS/DISCUSSION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Nobody looks up when they’re walking. Or running. In the halls. When Quentin runs under a mistle toe, his momentum keeps going and he sprawls across the floor, his books going flying. But his first thought is that this bullshit feels like s good way to get out of class, so he makes himself comfortable.

His second thought comes half an hour later, and he’s not proud of it. His second thought is that he’s so bored he would’ve preferred to go to class. And then he sees Miguel in the distance, and he scrambles back to his feet.

Miguel probably looks like a very particular breed of insane as he meanders down the halls at the fastest clip he can manage while squinting up at the ceiling and swerving around the mistletoe sprigs above; the journal panics before class had alerted him to Gooseberry's newest educational hazard.

He's so focused on his Pacman-like weaving that he almost misses Quentin and has to backtrack a few paces to take in the whole picture properly.

"...wow," he says after a moment. "If you didn't look so pissed off, I might think you did this on purpose."

Quentin scowled at Miguel. “Quit being a smug asshole and get the fuck over here and kiss me, asshole,” he said. His hand dipped hand into his pocket and retrieved a rock - has he had rocks in his pocket this whole time? Probably - and lobbed it at Miguel. “I have shit to do.”

Miguel flicked his wand at the rock and it coasted to a gentle stop, rotating slowly in the air before it began to orbit around Miguel's head like a small satellite. He looked back at Quentin, lips pressed together, but more like he was fighting back a smile rather than annoyed by the attempted assault-by-rock.

"You used the same insult twice," he pointed out, moving his wand so that the stone moved in gradually widening arcs and spun in fantastical maneuvers before speeding towards Quentin with lethal promise--and bouncing gently and harmlessly off his forehead before arcing back towards Miguel at a lazy pace.

Quentin didn’t flinch - he seemed to accept his fate of death by rock surprisingly fast - but then the rock booped him on the forehead and the look on his face got exponentially more unimpressed. “This ain’t math class,” he snapped, slipping a second rock out of his pocket and throwing it at Miguel, harder than the first. “Asshole.”

"Lit class," Miguel corrected him, and the second rock soon joined the first. "Doesn't really make sense to tell me to stop being an asshole and then call me an asshole. Twice now.

The two rocks bounced off Quentin's head again in rapid succession, the second one hard enough to just barely sting.

"See, I'm used to people asking nicely when they want me to do them favors."

Quentin’s scowl intensified. He looked like he wanted to Miguel and was mentally working out the best way to do that. “Please get the fuck over here and kiss me so I can get out of here,” he said stiffly. It didn’t sound any nicer, but there was that word that he rarely said. He didn’t even throw a rock at Miguel this time.

"I have one condition."

Conditions were suspicious as fuck. It was nice that Quentin didn’t point that out. See how nice he’s being, guys?

“What?” He snapped.

The bright, insincere, cotton candy-sweet smile Miguel shot at Quentin was a thing of beauty.

"Empty your pockets, asshole."

Quentin stares at Miguel long and hard. He’s mostly working very hard at not smiling. And then he takes his sweet time emptying his pockets. When he’s done, he has a small mountain of rocks at his feet, several acorns, a sizable pouch of glitter and what appears to be a small dart gun. He looks at Miguel expectantly. “Happy? You gonna kiss me or what.”

"And who said you had no sense of romance?" Miguel looked askance at the dart gun as it skittered across the floor, eyebrows raised as he toed it out of easy reach. "Oh wait--I think that was still me. Not sorry."

Without further ado, he took that final step forward into Quentin's personal space and seizing him by the shirt collar to pull him down to the proper height. Miguel stood briefly on his tiptoes to deliver the promised kiss, perfunctory, to Quentin's lips before he was edging back, looking almost...shy.

"Wait." He stepped forward again and reached up, mussing Quentin's hair. "At least make it look like it was worth my time."

Satisfied, he sent the remaining rocks and other contraband floating above his head, glancing significantly between the dart gun and Quentin before rolling his eyes and banishing it all back to the cabin with a loud pop.

"Don't be any later," he called over his shoulder as he walked away, weaving past another stuck student a bit further down the hall.

Quentin looked bored, right up until Miguel grabbed him by the collar. That threw him off. The kiss wasn’t anything extreme, but Quentin was self aware enough to notice that he was kissing back. And then it was over and Miguel was messing up hair and he was annoyed that he found himself speechless, even when Miguel banished his contraband. Especially when Miguel was already walking away.

Belatedly, after Miguel, like a dumbass, he shouted, “You taste like peppermint.”

From down the hallway came an echoing reply:

"It's called brushing your teeth, you should try it!"

From the middle of the hall, Quentin shouts back, “MAYBE I FUCKING WILL. YOU TASTE GOOD.”

There's a long pause and then the echo of footsteps backtracking down the hall with a vengeance.

A small tin of breathmints hits Quentin square in the forehead, precisely where the rocks had prior.

Quentin catches the tin when they rebound off of his forehead. He lobs them back at Miguel forcefully. “Asshole,” he says and he’s very positive he doesn’t actually sound fond as he moves forehead, safely out of mistletoe range. “I said you taste good, didn’t say I want you in my mouth - Hey, fuck you, gotta go to class.”

Quentin turns and walks away and it’s in the wrong direction but he got the last word of that conversation which means he wins, even if he regrets those last words.

Later, when Quentin finally arrives to class and takes his seat, he'll discover the same tin of mints from before magicked into his pocket. Across the front is a note, etched in glowing letters.

MISTLETOE

Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel

Re: Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel

Re: Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel

Re: Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel

Re: Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel

Re: Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel

Re: Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel

Re: Quentin and Miguel

Quentin and Miguel