[baby it's cold outside]

[sevenhorrorsmods]

Who: everyone!
When: the weekend of September 5
Where: around
What:
Warnings:

[The "staffing issues" from last weekend have seemingly resolved themselves; the food at the cafeteria is back to normal levels of mediocrity! Which is good, because something else seems to be stalking the school hallways today]

[You hear it before you see it. Footsteps that echo behind yours, perfectly in sync with every step you take. Turn around and there is no one there. . . but you do see a set of bloody footprints trailing after you. They aren't your footprints (they belong to someone's bared feet, while you're presumably wearing shoes), and they slowly vanish the longer you stare at them. Creepy! Weird!! Unsettling!!]

[But maybe not as creepy as the ghost of a hand you feel brushing against your shoulder. It's a light touch. It's a cold touch, ice flowing through your veins as it chills you from the inside out, sending your teeth chattering and your body trembling. No matter what you do, for the next 24 hours, you cannot seem to warm yourself up. Blankets don't work. Physical activity doesn't work. Hell, even a steaming hot shower back at the dorms doesn't seem to thaw you out. You're not quite hypothermic, you may be close!!]

[What does work to dispel the cold, however, is. . . . . . . . . . . body heat. Snuggling up with someone else and/or sharing a blanket will warm characters up in a pinch. Maybe it's pillow fort and/or sleepover time?? Go find a partner and take care of yourself]

[The footprint ghost will linger throughout the weekend before disappearing on Monday morning]

[ALSO PLEASE USE THIS POST FOR ANY AND ALL MINGLE THINGS EVEN IF THEY ARE NOT RELATED TO FOOTPRINT GHOST. I'M NOT THE BOSS OF YOU]

Comments

[ordimame]

[BLANKET TUG-OF-WAR. . .]

[affixing him with a WITHERING STARE as he tugs again. harder this time]

Mister Adair.

I can already see that you have your own.

[ratiocinations]

[HE WILL NOT LET GO!! He can't believe Mr Puck is already trying to take what he's claimed as his! (So sayeth the curse.)]

And I assure you, it is not enough. Thus, your aid is very much appreciated.

[ordimame]

[Kin'un you are going to be the DEATH of him]

[YANKS BACK!!]

If you want it so badly, then at least pay for it.

Not that I'd sell it to you anyway!

[because his ass is currently FREEZING]

[ratiocinations]

[sorry pink team is annoying

A sigh of frustration. He does not let go, but he does lower his arm so there is less tautness of blanket between them.]

Mr Puck… perhaps we may reach an understanding. A compromise of sorts.

[ordimame]

[they're about to annoy their way into his black little criminal heart, but that is a tale for another time. his gaze narrows]

That depends on the compromise.

[ratiocinations]

[ ... ]

You give me your blanket... And I hand you the rest of this cigarette I've been smoking.

[Sure, it's an already-started cigarette, but better than nothing, right?]

[ordimame]

[. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . god damn it, Mister Adair, how dare you use him backsliding into nicotine addiction against him]

[stares, features pinched together in open consideration, before he shakes his head]

We share the blanket.

And you give me a fresh one.

[ratiocinations]

[He is weaponizing addiction like a good person-- Wait.

Eye brow raising. There is a part of his curse that is trying to bludgeon through this moment of rationalization. He can feel it, pacing at the back of his mind, saying: Just try to steal the blanket again, what good will it do, being down yet one more cigarette?

But... for now...]

If you want an unused cigarette, you will have to follow me back to Kin'un.

[His supply is dwindling, and he doesn't keep extras on him anymore. However! He really wants... that extra blanket...]

[ordimame]

[LIKE A GOOD PERSON???]

I can do that.

[gives the blanket yet ANOTHER tug]

But I'm holding onto this until we get there.

[just in case Mister Adair gets it in his head to BOLT as soon as he has the goods]

[ratiocinations]

[Clever. Because he definitely thought about it.

But the blanket is now his, and Holmes turns on his heel and starts walking towards his dorm, shivering beneath his cadre of blankets piled on his shoulders.]

Then this way, Mr Puck. This way!

[ordimame]

[Puck follows, hunching his shoulders up to his ears as he does so, teeth chattering with every step he takes. he has never been soooo miserable]

Between my omamori and now this blanket, I'm beginning to think your class has it out for me, Mister Adair.

[ratiocinations]

[Stiff upper lip. He will power through this cold The British Way, even though he, too, hates the cold. (and complain like a big baby about it in the other prompt in this toplevel)]

Ah... you refer to Ms Girl. I did hear about that. You must not blame her terribly much for her actions.

[The way he says it, it is almost as though he does not necessarily mean it is only the curse's issue.]

[ordimame]

[. . . Miss Girl??]

I-- don't. Not really? I was aggravated at the time, but it's all water under the bridge now.

[Puck gives her some grace because he knows the nature of Kin'un's curse, and because it was more of a crime of opportunity. had Mister Adair stolen his blanket, he would not have been afforded the same leniency]

But more importantly than that.

Is her name really just "Girl?"

[ratiocinations]

[Yeah but Girl is also just Like That in many ways, but if Mr Puck has already afforded her the grace of forgiveness, he'll not press the matter.]

It is the name she's chosen for herself, yes. I believe it is because I called her "dear girl" on that tumultuous first day, and it stuck.

[ordimame]

[PUCK WILL EVENTUALLY LEARN THAT FOR HIMSELF]

Ah.

[. . . he was going to say that "Girl" is kind of an insulting alias, but if she likes it, then??? sure???]

If she picked it for herself, then I guess that's. . . her choice.

[ratiocinations]

[good luck my dude]

It is not the alias I would've picked for anyone, no, but I do not think she is so easily insulted.

[ ... ]

In that way, at least.

[ordimame]

[he will need it]

But easily insulted in other ways. I noticed.

. . . she got mad at me because I was waving her omamori around in public.

[it was cute. it had cats :(]

[ratiocinations]

[Cute... Well. To Holmes, that's exactly why she'd get mad about it.]

Because of its design?

[ordimame]

I thought it was cute?

[he saw NO PROBLEM WITH IT WHATSOEVER]

[ratiocinations]

No, no, that is precisely the problem. Do you think a young woman with a personality like hers wants others to know that she possesses an adorable omamori? It is embarrassing.

[ordimame]

[a beat]

. . . point taken.

[another chilly shudder as he tugs his blanket tighter around his shoulders]

It doesn't matter now, I guess. All's well that ends well.

[ratiocinations]

I am glad you could leave things on more amicable terms.

[And truly, he is glad for that. He does not need tension wending through the homerooms because a) they all need to work together and b) he ain't got enough energy for that.

Speaking of homerooms! They are at Kin'un now. Holmes opens up the door for Mr Puck.]

In you go, now.

[ordimame]

[a slight bow of his head before he shuffles inside. hello again, Kin'un!]

-- just in case your plan was to get me inside your dorm so you could rob me blind, I have literally nothing of value on me right now.

[ratiocinations]

[It is probably getting messier and messier in here by the day. Lots of books and papers and pens and things whisked away from various classrooms, or the art room, or the nurse's office. And, as always, it smells like cigarette smoke.]

Mr Puck, you underestimate the curse. [AS HE CAN SEE FROM ALL THE STUFF STREWN ACROSS THIS DORM, of middling value.] I would steal the shirt off your back if the mood struck me.

[He is... kidding right now, though. He has no desire for that. Only... blanket.......]

[ordimame]

[you guys. . . . . . gingerly stepping his way over the scattered books and papers as he heads towards the couch. once there, he plops his freezing ass onto one of its cushions and curls in on himself]

You could try, but you'd never manage.

[he says that with such prim confidence. . . he's the kind of guy who gets his wallet stolen, it is not deserved]

All right. It's your turn to pay up.

[holding out his hand expectantly!]