paradisalogs | ☠ 062

Entry tags:

molotov cocktease

☠ 062

Who: Molotov and you, maybe
What: Fireside sitting in the lobby, thinking, talking, drinking
When: The middle of the damn night!
Where: Lobby
Rating: Ehhh probably like PG-13 at most

The lobby never really got silent, not with the noctural residents and everyone who seemed to come and go at all hours, but it did get quiet if you waited up late enough, and Molotov needed a little bit of quiet.

Sure, she could have stayed up in her room, could have sat in bed next to Brock as he slept, even though she couldn't sleep herself. But something about it made her want to leave, want to just be in front of the beautiful, if slightly "majestic generic", fireplace down in the lobby.

So she'd put on some pajamas and wandered downstairs, taking a seat on the sofa closest the fire. The castle provided a blanket to cover her legs with, and a mug of red wine hot chocolate that never seemed to need refilling, and Molotov couldn't help but think it was the nicest thing the castle had done in a while.

And there she sat, alone and silent, gazing into the flames as the lobby traffic died out more and more.

Until you came along.

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It's not like he expected it not to get out eventually, but it does make him second guess how well Lucrezia and Joshua covered it up. It's not like he has any concrete knowledge of what went on while he was dead. Investigating it seemed a little too morbid, even for him.

"I'm not asking, don't worry." She's already shared more than he sat down for. Could be another reason he offered anything at all. Besides, he's used to living with his curiosity.

Well, he was also a dead body on a space ship. What were Lucrezia and Joshua to do, bury him? That isn't how shit goes down in space, Spike, and you should know that!

"I will say I am lucky," she laughs. "The castle gave me a loss that stopped mattering. Maybe I am the only one."

Something to keep in mind the next time dying seems like a good idea.

"You don't hear many people bragging about that." Because a paranoid person might think that made them a target. Which of course he won't mention, or he'd look like the paranoid one.

Molotov figures she's a target no matter what. She has a happy marriage, she has a meaningless loss, she doesn't spend all of her time miserable. What better life for the castle to ruin?

"Is it much different from the people who do not even know their loss?"

Wow, could she stop making him jealous with everything she says. He has to remind himself that he at least got a replacement when he lost his eye. At least he beats her on that front.

"There are people like that?"

To be fair, the eyepatch is a personal choice of Molotov's. It's a good place to hide tranq darts! She has a collection of glass eyes, she just doesn't like wearing them. Also, she is not from the super fancy advanced future, so shut up.

"Mostly people who lost a memory and do not have anyone to remind of them what it is," she shrugs, maybe finding it a little surprising that Spike has never heard anyone say that they don't know what their loss is.

It's not that he's never heard of it, but how long does that really last? -- And why did he get the shit end of the stick twice?

"...Talk about something that would drive you crazy.

Molotov knows that Brock doesn't know one of his losses -- everyone who dies has two (or more), and Brock got his knife back. But with no idea herself, and no one else from their world showing up to enlighten them, how can he figure it out?

"Hopefully you would be able to put it out of your mind, after a while. What you don't know can't hurt you, and all that."

She just described his entire philosophy on life. Still. "You don't think that's setting them up for anything?"

"If it is, it is the castle's fault," she says with a shrug, because what else can those people be expected to do? They have to live their lives, don't they?

They don't have to do anything except live.

Spike shakes his head, since now he's still talking about things that aren't going to lead him anywhere he wants to be. Insomnia is a hell of a thing.

"At least half of it."

"Most things are the castle's fault." Molotov settles back into the sofa with a tired noise, eyelid lowering a bit. "We can react, and we can react wrongly, but the castle is always the catalyst."

He follows by making himself comfortable again, although he attributes this to the calming drag of his cigarette.

"That gets me off the hook."

"For what?" she asks, looking at him without really moving. "The whole thing between us though, that is your fault. All your fault."

That was a shortly lived victory. "What thing?"

"Our whole 'I hate you' thing," she says, gesturing vaguely. To be fair though, there isn't any malice in her tone, so she must not think poorly of the thing. "And a lot of the kissing has been you too, refusing to move."

The 'whole kissing thing' would be one of those subjects they weren't supposed to mention again. He's pretty sure that was the unspoken agreement.

"It was part of the magic."

Yes, but Molotov is pretty smashed at this point anyway, so of course she's forgotten that part.

"Oh please, you love playing chicken!" There's a wide, vague hand movement here. "Always trying to be the last one standing."

It always bugs him when someone picks out fairly obvious flaws of his. He never thought that applied to magic kissing, but the fact that it might is something he'd rather not dwell on.

"You could have gone the other way too, you know."

Well, it applies to everything really, doesn't it? Molotov is unaware she's hit a nerve by pointing out something that someone who literally just met Spike could tell him.

"Who says I do not like playing chicken too? It is just a more serious game to you, I think."

He probably wouldn't mind as much if he heard it from someone else, but certain people don't have to try that hard.

"You'd think I'd win if I kept playing."

Oh come on, this has been a perfectly nice conversation. Cool your jets, Spiegel!

"No one wins when they play against me," Molotov smirks, like 'winning at magical kissing chicken' is a real thing. She's probably going to find herself in a really compromising situation someday because of this shit.

Oh wait, that already happened too.

He really hates being the only person who is still bothered by the castle's stupid mind control pranks.

"That's fair to say." Kissing a friend's hot wife is losing in this scenario.

He's not the only one bothered, but it is a little weird that he hasn't gotten at least a little jaded to it. I mean, Spike and Molotov have gone full-on first base so many times that it's barely worth getting into a huff about it.

"Da, but it could be worse. At least I know you. Winding up with a stranger is always so awkward." So that's that. Molotov would rather make out with Spike than someone she doesn't know.

That's the problem. Everyone seems to think he's harmless. Most of the time, he's the last to shake out of it. One of these times someone isn't going to be on their game and it's going to go too far.

And speaking of awkward.

"...Yeah. They might get the wrong idea."

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