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Devil's Nest | Thursday Evening

Even if Annie had spent the first half of the week being run off her ass in New York (sorry, "being celebrated at a benefit"), it didn't mean she could exactly take a break from things when she was back in Fandom.

Apparently the island had other ideas, though. She'd have to think of an excuse as to why she wasn't picking up, since even as much slack as she could get, "my phone was only showing a burning log" seemed kind of...bad, as far as reasons to not answer an email or a text.

Oh well. Enforced break from Vought it was.

~Special~
Christmas Margarita

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"Well I'm never going to complain about getting to stare at you," he teased.

"This is just practice for when I inevitably drag you camping someday," Annie said, jokingly preening a little as she leaned on the bar on her elbows. "Do you want a beer? Or are you brave enough to try the combination of cranberry juice and tequila?"

Look, just because she wrote it on the board did not mean Annie wasn't suspicious of a Christmas margarita.

"I'm no coward," he said. "Do your worst."

"Proud of you," Annie told him, getting stuff together and throwing the ingredients into the blender with a flourish before slamming the lid down and starting the blender up with a flash of her eyes.

Some things didn't change.

"Especially since like, brave of you to go for a festive drink at all after yesterday," she added, actually going to the extra effort of sugaring the glass' rim for him.

"Well, I'm not about to complain about free eggnog," he said. "Could have done without brushing my teeth with it by accident though."

"I mean, that sounds kind of weirdly good?" Annie decided, flashing her eyes again and bringing the blender to an abrupt halt. "But like, I would have stayed in New York if I'd known I wouldn't be able to use my bathtub after the benefit."

She placed the drink before Diego, clearly proud of her handiwork, before amending, "Nah, that's a lie. I missed you. Eggnog for a day's worth it."

"I missed you too. I'm glad you braved the eggnog for me." The drink did look very professional, though he knew Annie well enough to know that there was probably a ton of tequila in there.

He took a hesitant sip. "Tastes festive."

But for, like, Cinco de Mayo.

"That's what I was going for!" Annie told him proudly. "Festive! Like the wassail was!"

Like, exactly.

"That is still the dumbest name for a drink," Diego said. "It sounds like a woodland creature."

"It's old timey," Annie said with a helpless shrug. "Everything had a dumb name back then and they wrote things down with feathers."

History Lessons with Professor January, everyone.

"I think I'll just straight up call it 'hot punch' next year," she decided. Since she'd just explained that that was what it was to everyone, anyway.

Edited 2021-12-09 14:57 (UTC)

"Very direct, I like it," he said, taking another sip of the margarita. Sips would basically all he could do there was so much tequila in it. "And also a good way to sucker punch someone you don't like if they ask."

"Dude, is it weird that I kind of wish a fight had broken out or something?" Annie admitted, knowing full well that she'd get validation on this from Diego. "Like, that's the one rowdy-party tradition we haven't fulfilled with the Christmas rager yet. Maybe next year I'll fight that Nickleback guy who keeps crashing and going home with your shirts the next day."

Who was that guy, anyway?

"...next year I'm taking off the next day." Just so he could keep his shirts. Stop giving away his clothes, Annie!

"Then you'll get to help with cleaning," Annie warned. Though with so many people helping, it really hadn't been that bad. "You can meet this guy, though. He keeps turning up shirtless and then asking for a loaner to get home. Last year he slept on the balcony and I'm surprised he didn't get frostbite."

A touch dramatic, maybe.

"Does he come in with a shirt on?" Diego asked.

"Last year, yes," Annie said, thinking back. "Like a black tank, maybe? But this year I didn't even see him until he was peeling himself up off our floor and asking for a black shirt."

Still so bold to specify a color preference. Was this like how if you fed a stray cat, it would come back because it knew you were a food source? Had Annie just, like, become a black-shirt source for this weirdo?

Diego understood the request. He would also ask for a black shirt.

"We should put up cameras next year." Oh someone had turned into their father. "That way we can keep track of where his shirt goes."

"Oh, that's a really good idea," Annie said, nodding eagerly. "Like, for this reason but also because like...I mean, I definitely didn't see everything that happened. It'd be like having a party recap. As it is I'm only kind of aware of who did what this time. Summer and I still aren't sure whether the drone got anyone -- but someone put filthy ornaments on it at some point."

That one wasn't much of a mystery. She was pretty sure it had been Eliot.

"I mean, don't most arts and crafts turn into dicks in the end?" he joked. "We should have expected that."

"There was a dick and also a vagina," Annie whispered, looking scandalized. "And they were both really accurate!"

(It had been a vulva. Learn your own anatomy, woman.)

"But yeah. I kinda wish they'd drawn dicks on Five's board, though," she added, a touch wistful.

Edited 2021-12-09 16:10 (UTC)

Diego snorted. "I didn't realize we had artists among us."

"You could have drawn the dick on his board and no one would have suspected it was you."

Annie paused, clearly having not considered this.

"...do you think I still could?" she wondered. "I told people not to mess with the board while cleaning up, so it wouldn't be surprising if things were still there from the party. And I won't be able to next year, because of the cameras!"

The cameras were happening officially, now.

"I haven't seen him around since the party," he said with a shrug. "You could sneak one on there and blame it on the shirt thief."

Was it stealing if your girlfriend had offered the shirt in the first place?

Well, last year she'd just offered. This year it had been a request.

(Next year, Annie was half-tempted to send Cade home in one of Diego's past ugly sweaters, actually.)

"I weirdly have not drawn a lot of dicks on things," she admitted. "I might need your help."

Diego had grown up with four brothers. She was sure he could offer pointers.

"Seriously?" he asked. "Not on a iced over window or anything?"

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