вєяяу тяαρρєя! (
mytarget) wrote in
sweetdevil2021-11-09 05:59 pm
58th ♫ | i heard it – that day's "snow show song"

WINTER HOLIDAY ❤ 2021 CMO
- CHRISTMAS IS INCOMING so here's a CMO for pumping our brains gull of winter holiday serotonin! obviously you can use this for other winter holidays from other cultures but i'm doing christmas and fantasy christmas because i morph into an elf on the shelf at exactly midnight on november 1st like a werewolf curse
As well as prompts, this post can also be used for IC gift giving! Feel free to just tap my toplevels for a gift-giving starter if that's what you want.
Feel free to also use this as a meme/mingle/CMO or whatever for your own characters! Include prompts or don't, I ain't the boss of you.

Erina Estival | OC
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[That's probably fine.]
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Clobbered by snow, Erina makes a very unflattering noise and topples over into the snow.
She does not move. ]
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Erina! This means I win, right?
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She's still breathing, right? Right???? ]
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[Penny crunches over to Erina's prone, Saiba-man'd form, crouching beside her.]
I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd take losing so hard-
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Vengeance! DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR!
[ And she just dunks it right on poor Penny's head. WAR IS AT HAND ]
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[Yeah, that's a whole lot of snow on this poor gingerbot's head.]
[You deceptive monster.]
[But Penny springs back, reloading the launcher and returning fire as she runs for some kind of cover.]
I'M GLAD I DIDN'T HURT YOUR FEELINGS ERINA BUT VICTORY WILL BE MINE!
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[ Her threat comes off as pretty weedy given that she's already covered in snow and she's making futile attempts to return fire with powdery handfuls she hasn't had time to pack into actual snowballs. Determined to save at least some face, Erina scrabbles behind cover and starts furiously assembling snowballs. ]
Who even put you up to this horseshit?!
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[This is all said without notable pause in the careful, timed barrage of snowballs. It's an aggressive assault, but even Penny needs time to pack snow into proper ballistic shape.]
And I PUT ME UP TO THIS! I got you a launcher too and I figured you'd want to see it in action first!
[pew pew pew]
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[ She doesn't have a white flag to wave so she just sort of sticks up her hand and waves it to signal a pause before she cautiously pokes her head up over cover. ]
A snowball launcher? You're not shitting me? They just make those?
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[One last snowball flies in Erina's direction with a soft 'thwip'.]
Kind of? I mean. They don't, really. No. But my Dad's not just 'them'.
[was Pietro in whatever this setting was before this very tag, probably not but I refuse to be stopped]
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[ She half-heartedly returns fire with a snowball that doesn't even come close to hitting Penny. ]
There's seriously one for me, too?
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[Penny has a lot of faith in her dad.]
But yes! If you want it.
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For real? No shit? I don't have to sign, like, a release or something in case I snipe someone's head clean off with the thing?
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The answer isn't exactly rocket science. There's a perfectly reasonable solution to Chitoge's dilemma: grow a pair, put on your big girl boots, spit it out. Take her by the hand, spin her around. Nothing to it. It beats sitting at table 18 with her chin in her hand, balling up the napkin from her hors d'oeuvre in her fist like she doesn't know what to do with herself, not a pocket to be found on her burgundy gown.
The worst thing that she can do is tell Chitoge to take a hike. But God only knows whether Erina Estival is the sort of girl who comes to a dance to...well, dance. She comes off like she'd be more likely to spring straight for the buffet, instead -- to nab all of the fruit on plastic cocktail swords that her grubby little mitts can hold, eat the place out of house and home, stretch those gangly arms of hers above her head with an exaggerated yawn, and call it a night. It's stuffy, this sort of affair. And while Chitoge is used to prettying herself up, tying her blonde hair into a nice bun with her ribbon, strutting about in her red-bottomed heels like her feet aren't crying for help...she has something of a hard time envisioning Erina doing the same. Or, at least, she did.
But for whatever reason...Chitoge can't deny that this goblin of a girl looks...dashing. And the more glances she steals at her, like quick peeks up to get a sense of how bright the sun is before she fucks up her eyes, the more of her face she wants to bury into her palm, to hide the growing crimson.
Chitoge's been humoring this annoying daydream too much; some kind of fantasy land where she's about five times cooler, ten times braver. But whenever she tries to rehearse the words in her head, she can't help herself -- she cringes, and clams straight up, embarrassed at herself, and at the fact that she's actually getting bashful over this blockhead. Good grief.
It's about her fourth or fifth time talking herself out of it, before she props herself up, turns on her heel, and abruptly huffs out -- ]
I'm getting some air. Estival, you're coming with.
[ Now, if only getting her on the dance floor were that easy... ]
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If anyone asks, though, she's totally just here for the food.
At least she's managed to make herself look passably presentable. Sara and Jess have done some sort of magic on her hair so it hangs loose without exploding all over the place and she'd recruited Zuri to make sure she's not dressed like a hobo. She feels all weird and itchy and overdressed, but nobody's staring at her like she's a dog that rolled in the mud, so she's probably safe. That doesn't stop things from feeling weird and suffocating, though, so she's got her attention fixed on the plate she'd loaded up from the buffet and pretending that's the reason she's trying not to meet anyone's gaze. She's halfway through a slice of smoked salmon when Chitoge starts stalking off and she almost chokes on the fucking thing in her haste to respond. ]
Jesus– [ Cough, cough. She stuffs what's left of the fish into her mouth and then sets off after Chitoge, plate still in hand, trying not to look too relieved. ] Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. How the hell are you moving so fast in those shoes?