☠ 068

[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.

Comments

[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!

[gottaknockhard]

Nope! Not doing this shit. Spike keeps swatting at her to keep her away long enough for him to grab and twist the door knob, even if it takes one or two tries while alternating between keeping his towel on as she... pinches him... the fuck, really.

His exit would have gone perfectly, if it weren't for Ein listening closely on the other side of the door. Stepping over him may have worked if it weren't for the harness around him getting caught on Spike's heel.

All this fun has to end sometime, like when he lands hard on the ground with only a weak grip on the corner of his towel, Ein scampering away. Spike doesn't move from where he lands, too angry to piece together what just happened. He doesn't owe Brock this much.

[molotov]

Laughing in midair, Molotov hovers in the bathroom doorway, her bitty little legs kicking with delight. 'Teasing' as a fairy is much less subtle than her normal approach of snide jokes and biting criticisms.

[gottaknockhard]

He regrets ever being helpful. Lapse in judgment, that's all it is. Spike glares at her for a good long while as she enjoys herself, then gets back up and barely makes himself decent before emphatically pointing to the exit.

"I mean it, get out." Before he gets out the bug spray. He'll write Brock a note or something later.

[molotov]

Well, that's not being very understanding of her loss. The raccoon is going in this room the second she turns back into her full-sized self, Molotov immediately makes that decision.

And then she sticks her tongue out at him and soars away to hide in the light fixture, using it to make big, mocking shadows of herself on the walls.

[gottaknockhard]

Spike keeps fuming for a few silent seconds, then the tension in his shoulders abruptly relaxes and he walks over to collapse on his couch. Lazy as ever, he watches the shadows with dull interest while water still drips from his tangled hair. Ein only gets a warning glance, you don't get a vote.

"Careful. It's hot in there."

[molotov]

With a harrumph, Molotov's shadow makes a terribly rude gesture at him, although he's right -- she's already starting to sweat. Her bitty little brain goes into overdrive as she tries to think of the best way to fuck with him.

And then, as he can see from her shadow on the wall, cast huge from the lightbulb, she strips out of her clothes.

[gottaknockhard]

He was expecting the gesture, and is even amused that he got her back in some way. Until he keeps watching her shadow shift and gets a sense of what she's doing.

"Hey." He knows she hears him, but at the moment his tone is more filled with disbelief than any authority. "Hey. Knock it off."

Oh, she did. Dammit, Mol...

[molotov]

There's another obscene gesture as Molotov stretches out in the glass of the light fixture, like she's just getting a tan. She does like to go sunning, and with her tiny, made-of-flower-petals clothes off, it's pretty much the same thing.

So now Spike is stuck with not being able to fish her out because she's naked, and also somehow having to bribe her to get redressed. Your move, Spiegel.

[gottaknockhard]

It's not the same thing at all. Also Spike is moderately sure that she could cook herself if she gets too close to the bulb. Which is why he's looking so alertly, checking for smoke.

Or he could turn off the light. That took a surprisingly long time to occur to him, but a second later he's getting off the couch and flicking off a switch. Now he can't possibly see her naked.

"Don't forget to thank me later."

[molotov]

Molotov howls when he turns the light out, throwing a chime-y little tantrum in the light fixture, banging her fists and heels against the glass. She will not be outdone, she's so irritated! Hastily throwing her clothes back out, she darts out and toward Spike, trying to attack him again. Such an angry little fairy!

[gottaknockhard]

Woah, he was not expecting that. Spike backs up immediately, holding his hands in front of him like he's really intimidated by a tiny furious Molotov. He'll pass it off as utter confounded if anyone asks later, which he's hoping they won't.

Grabbing an old shirt, he holds it up in front of him like a bull cape, for lack of other ways to deal with this. Ein barks helpfully, and Spike makes sure to shoot him a disgusted look before waving the shirt around, trying to get her to settle the hell down. How does this always happen when he helps women out? It's a mystery.

[molotov]

Molotov flies at his face over and over, though she stops when he holds up a shirt like... what the hell is he doing? She legitimately has no idea what's happening here.

She glares at him, then descends down to her canine transport and has Ein head for the door, which she points at and screams about until Spike lets her out.

With his dog.

It's hers now.