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[molotov]

Who: Molotov and you
What: Mercenary fairy, pouting silently over her loss
When: This weekend
Where: All over the castle
Rating: Probably G, since she can't even swear

This. Fucking. Castle.

When Molotov woke up only inches high with wings, and tried to say those exact words, all that came out of her mouth were tiny little bell-like noises, chiming and tinkling and generally annoying even herself.

It was a first, not wanting to hear her own voice.

After stumbling across the pillow, which took forever, Molotov managed to master her wings, clumsily gliding around close to the mattress at first, but soon flitting all around the bedroom. She took off as soon as the door was opened, heading out through an open window to fly all around the castle grounds.

She looks mostly like a little ball of light. An angry, speeding little ball of light. And she might try to take it out on you.

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[molotov]

She lifts up to hover in front of his face, grabbing at both sides of his nose with her tiny little hands and making a lot of noise. She jabs one hand toward the staircase, pointing, then holds out all five fingers, to signal that they should be heading to the fifth floor.

Not that Molotov can do all that much if Spike decides he'd rather not go up there right away, except be really annoying about the whole thing.

[gottaknockhard]

This is a weird feeling that he'll try to forget later; tiny hands grabbing his nose while he tries not to breathe in her magic dust that's getting on his shirt. Good thing it doesn't show stains.

Even if he isn't so dumb that he can't understand what she's trying to mime, right now it's fun to get a reaction out of her. Something he'll likely regret when she's big again, but that's a problem for another time.

"How could I forget." Not smiling, of course. He just attempts to pull back and start heading to the elevator. Being such a nice guy and all.

[molotov]

Don't dwell too heavily on the strangeness, Spike -- after all, at this size, Molotov could jam her entire fists up your nostrils and yank out your nose hair.

She flutters above him, harrumphing (which is pretty tinkly), and takes a seat lotus-style atop his head.

His hair would be a pretty comfy place for a nap, actually...

[gottaknockhard]

Typical for him and his strange problems. Spike should just be grateful that they're on better terms. Kind of. He hasn't exactly tested that theory when she hasn't been drinking.

Amusement over his tame teasing starts to wear off as he waits for the elevator and catches a reflection of how comfortable she's getting in his hair. Like he needs dust in it.

But whatever, it digs and he ducks inside the door, jamming his finger on Brock's floor a second later. The sooner he does this, the sooner he can forget about having any concern for tiny-Molotov.

[molotov]

Fairy dust is definitely what will be in his hair, because as the elevator starts to ascend, Molotov yawns and lies down in his hair, her tiny head pillowed on her arms.

Her acorn-top hat soon rolls from her head to rest in his hair too.

By the time the elevator makes it to the fifth floor, she's out like a twinkly little light, nestled in a hair nest.

[gottaknockhard]

He can see her in the reflection of the door, getting weirdly comfortable in his matted curls. If she winds up smelling like him, Spike can't really be blamed for that.

Except that he was the one who accepted the invitation to chauffeur her around the castle. And he'll have the glitter dust to prove it. (Ugh.)

Since he's committed and all, he stops in front of Brock's door during the course of her nap before politely calling up to her. "Your stop."

At the tilt of his head, her acorn hat falls off and he's distracted again. He's going to get paranoid about finding things in there after this, isn't he?

[molotov]

Molotov's response is much the same as it is when she's woken as a regular size human -- she murmurs(/chimes) a grumble, then shifts a little. Her wings also twitch a bit, but that probably just goes along with the getting resettled in his hair.

Which, yes, is covered in fairy dust. He'll have to pretend he was hanging out with strippers or something.

But there's nothing in his hair besides a fairy now, since her hat has fallen to the ground. And she would really appreciate it if Spike picked that up for her.

[gottaknockhard]

People do have an annoying tendency to ask him questions like 'what were you doing' and 'what's that on your head', so he'll keep that story in his pocket. Who knows when glitter was invented, but medieval strippers can't be all that different.

Or he could just shower before anyone notices. Spike makes no effort to retrieve the acorn at first, but after a few seconds of being ignored, he finally bends down to grab it.

"I hope this isn't currency. I don't think it's going to cover it." They're here, why isn't she flying through the keyhole or whatever. Don't make him knock.

[molotov]

When Spike bends down, Molotov should fall, but she doesn't. Her wings seem to automatically kick in, allowing her to hover in midair and slowly wake, stretching her arms and legs as she yawns. She blinks at Spike for a moment before holding her hand out for her hat, then pointing at the door and miming a knock.

[gottaknockhard]

He frowns, a little too severely for someone asking him for an acorn, but drops it in her tiny hands anyway. He'd take it as a sign that she lost her mind along with her height if it weren't for the way she always had to pull an ensemble together.

Without checking to see if she even caught that, he knocks on the door, then immediately starts walking away. She can take it from here.

[molotov]

Molotov positions her hat back on her head, watching him knock, but she doesn't expect him to just walk off like that. What is she supposed to do if Brock isn't there?!

Which of course he isn't.

She looks desperately between the door and Spike's retreating back several times, then sighs heavily and flits away after him, a speeding little ball of light that buzzes around him in circles, darting at him again and again as her tiny little hands pull at his clothing to say "how can you just leave me alone like this!" in the only way she knows how.

[gottaknockhard]

Just when he thought that would be the end of it, he nearly stumbles back as the tiny ball of light starts going off around him. Did he put a crack in her acorn or something?

"What is it now?" He looks back to Brock's closed door and what should have been the end of his good deed. Some people are never satisfied. "If he's not in there, how should I know where he went?"

[molotov]

She stops in front of his face, all pouty and frowny, glaring, then makes a lot of annoying bell noises that amount to the fact that she isn't planning to be left alone, even if that means Spike is going to be her companion for this husband-less time.

And that is why Molotov settles back down in his hair before he can stop her, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest.

[gottaknockhard]

Wow, his hair wasn't another option he was leaving her! He seems pretty angry about it, until he abruptly decides that he doesn't care.

"Suit yourself." He tried to help, now he's going back to his room to wash up. If she wants to keep tagging along, she can go with his schedule. And maybe after he'll leave a note for Brock in the journal about where his wife is. He'll probably be perfectly understanding about this.

[molotov]

Harrumph! The wind chime noise that comes from somewhere in Spike's head vicinity should express what Molotov's exact thoughts on that subject are. Her thoughts are "harrumph", pretty much.

She sits all huffy for a moment as he heads away, then starts to sort of idly braid his hair around her. Hair braiding might be a fairy thing, as it happened to Brock once when there were fairies flitting around before that weird ball that one time. But the difference is that Molotov is doing it angrily.

[gottaknockhard]

He can feel the tugging on his hair, but just assumes that's her holding on since he's walking at a brisk pace back to his room. Brisk and not huffy, if anyone asks. Like he cares if a woman takes up residence in his hair until the loss wears off and she ultimately crushes him in his sleep. Why would that be anything to worry about?

When he exits the elevator at the exact same floor he was at a few minutes ago, he doesn't say a word of warning about the dog that hasn't been fed that they're about to visit. She may hear some barking by the time he gets to his door though, so it shouldn't be a complete surprise.

"You can keep him company while I take a shower." Dogs and fairies, should be fine. He just goes in and waits for her to fly off his head on his way to the bathroom. Maybe she can feed Ein while she's at it.

[molotov]

Nope, it's braiding! He has all these little braids in his hair, it's like a little crown. Be glad she didn't put flowers or ribbons or something in there, Spike. Anyway, it's only until he can dump her back on Brock, it's just for now.

Molotov didn't know that Spike has a dog until now, and she flutters down from her perch once they're in his room (which is filthy and smells weird, something she takes note to chide him for later) to look at the dog. There's no way she can feed it at this size, but she hovers just out of eating range to stretch her hand out for smelling.

[gottaknockhard]

He pauses before entering the bathroom, glancing back at Molotov's surprisingly welcoming gesture towards the corgi, who in turn tilts his head and stares. Who knew they'd get along? Assuming Ein doesn't try to eat her. ... He probably wouldn't do that.

So he closes the door and reaches for a towel, walking past the mirror on his way to the shower -- and stops. His voice can be heard breaking loudly over in the adjourning room. "What the hell did you do?"

All that compassion he was feeling earlier melts; he fumes and starts trying to undo the ridiculous braids. Goddamn spiteful fairies. How did she do so many?

[molotov]

They're not that bad, he's overreacting! There are white people on vacation in Jamaica paying good money to have that level of braid done, Spike, and Molotov didn't even charge you a cent. What a good, generous little fairy she is, he should reward her with a cookie or something later.

She hears the yelling, but figures that's just part of his shower ritual, because she is now way busy taking Ein as her mount -- she's jury-rigged up a saddle and some reigns with a discarded tank top and the tie of a bathrobe, both of which she found on the floor. Hot damn, she's got herself a dog-horse.

[gottaknockhard]

Seriously, it was maybe five minutes between Brock's room and here, and it feels like a million little braids all over, how. Braids made with tiny hands that he quickly loses patience with undoing, so he just undresses and turns the shower on. Maybe they'll fall out in the wash.

If he'd known what was going on in the rest of his apartment, he would have tried to take a longer shower to delay seeing this, but at the moment he's trying to be quicker than his usual five minutes. Only delayed slightly when his hand gets caught in his hair once or twice.

By the time he finishes, he's more annoyed than he was when he started, and doesn't look much better for it. So while the sound of running water stops, and he listens for any more weird chiming or barking. Ein isn't usually one to fight, but this is Molotov they're talking about. She instigates.

[molotov]

Nope, those are excellent braids, they are in there for the long haul! Again, reasons to be glad she didn't stick any pretty little decorations in there. Also, no, Molotov does not instigate! She likes animals more than most people, as Spike should have inferred from the Samson-Cocktease menagerie, so of course she's getting along fine with Ein. Also, he's a corgi, he was born to bear a fairy rider!

The only chiming is Molotov's laughter as she gallops around the room on her steed, taking each leap over Spike's mess with a surprising amount of grace. Maybe she doesn't need a dumb lunkhead for a ride after all, she'll just keep his dog!

[gottaknockhard]

Some barking really would have helped to prepare him for what he's walking in to, but he should have gathered by the lack of it that something horrific was on the other side of the door.

Like Molotov riding Ein. All over his room.

For a long while he makes no movement or change his frozen expression, only eventually his arm moves on its own to shut the door again. Then he turns the lights off for no reason at all. Blessed darkness.

He can still hear the chiming.

[molotov]

Ein and Molotov both pause to watch Spike, and they look at each other when the door closes again. This, of course, can only mean one thing.

They need to investigate.

Being a helpful dog and all, Ein takes Molotov to the bathroom door, where she disembarks to peer through the keyhole into the darkness of the bathroom. She can't see anything, so she sits cross-legged on the floor next to Ein while she thinks. Thinks and realizes that the crack under the door might be big enough for her to wriggle through.

And that is why Spike is being approached at frightening speeds by a sparkly ball of light.

[gottaknockhard]

Spike isn't proud of the sound he makes when a ball of light leaps at him from his safe bathroom haven, but he was surprised and can't be blamed. For a second he almost forgets it's Molotov and swipes at the air while simultaneously falls back to avoid getting smacked in the face.

This of course causes him to hit the side of the shower and he starts to fall over his legs until he catches himself with one hand bracing against the wall. It's any wonder how he kept a towel on. That could have been embarrassing.

Now he's attempting to find the light switch, barking all on his own while he does. "What are you doing? Get out of here!"

[molotov]

Molotov dodges his swing, then hovers to watch him nearly topple.

She's giggling. Horrible, bell tinkles of giggling.

And she does not leave the bathroom. Instead, she zooms in circles around him, pinching at his back and arms and tugging at his towel, always moving before he could possibly catch her.

She's having so much fun!