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The tree was dusted, Apatite has bounced, and some of the food tables had survived. Dusting off her holiday sweater, Howlite helped herself to a fresh glass of wine, holding it up to the light to be sure it was free of debris.

The jovial scene was completed by someone singing a butchered christmas song, and Howl glanced over, eyes catching on a dress that was definitely not a negaverse uniform.

"That's the reach-around hand," Howlite adroitly informed Zinkenite, as he was closest, who [of course] must already have known that. The lanky blonde didn't exactly know who the purple haired civilian was, but if she was in the Rift, and drinking their booze, she probably belonged there.

Also, there was something about that whole wobbly, one-armed, one-eyed thing that was just working for her.

It must've been the singing.

"Introduce me to your friend, Ilmenite," The captain's lopsided grin was wide as she made the awkward mistake of hitting on the Youma-Queen of the Negaverse.

"Well, I'll be damned," The blonde's grin was somewhat reckless [call it a mixture of post-battle adrenaline, alcohol, and her natural exuberance], as she ran a freckled hand through her short hair. A General-Queen? Correction: the General-Queen? Considering she'd already seen Apatite and Laurelite, that meant one person.

Well, one couldn't have a monster youma arm all the time, she supposed. That'd just be too cool.

"Can't blame a girl for saying hello, if you wear a dress like that, can you?" It was nicely tailored, and the fact that Aree came as her civilian form implied the casual intent to enjoy a party. Of course, she had no idea that the General-Queen couldn't have powered up, even if she'd wanted to.

It was testimony to her ease in social situations that Howlite managed to look unembarrassed, moving past her earlier flirtations with a friendly, more polite tone. "Can I get you a drink, General-Queen?"

She glanced over, just briefly, to Zinkenite, wondering if he was suffering from a stroke.

Ilmenite's eyes flashed to Zink and, for a moment, it was genuinely apologetic; he'd been as good as was physically possible for him to be, he thought, not letting his General-King open up a potentially embarrassing gift in public, keeping the panda-printed boxers out of the public view. He'd skirted around Zink, mostly, had kept to his own business, hadn't vaulted a table to defend any honor --

Well. Good intentions couldn't prevent the unexpected. He shrugged, clearing his throat, and looked back to Aree. "Um. I got you something...well...I got you something small, but..."

He hesitated, shook his head, and undid the bow to open the box. Unhesitatingly, he grasped the creature inside by the scruff of its fuzzy little neck and let the itty bitty white kitten hang in front of him, its entire body quivering with what had to be terror. Explosions. Noise. Being trapped in a box. The energies all around it. At least Tanz was Aree, and not the Youma-Queen, today. Being grabbed by Arm might have made the poor kitten's little heart burst right out of its chest.

"I didn't know, uh, what to get you." He quickly adjusted the purple bow around its neck, and held it out toward Aree, oddly uncertain. "I thought, you know, this one wouldn't talk back. Just...don't eat it, please?"

Aree.

Blatantly ignoring everyone else, the General smoothly stepped over to the battered, but very human girl to all but coil around her, arms wrapping around the front of her torso even as his chin settled itself upon what was left of her shoulder. "Oh, Aree~ Even all gimped up and looking like hell, you're still beautiful."

Green eyes fixed upon the kitten that Ilmenite offered, and a shark-like grin pulled at his lips as he just imagined how this was going to go over. Why, he couldn't have thought of a better gift, himself! Except he would have. Obsidian hummed with amusement under his breath, fixing a piercing stare on Zinkenite for a moment before his eyes wandered away.

Sorry, Zink. You were still not Obsidian's favorite.

“It is a nice dress, isn't it?” Aree said, smoothing out the black fabric with her hand. Her smile turned to Wolframite, and she extended a hand to rest gently upon his shoulder. The two were far past words, after all they'd endured together. That simple touch was enough. It would have to be, anyways, as she was quite suddenly caught up in coils of dark fabric and a familiar scent.

The salty air of dried blood mixed with the sweet, sweet scent of homicidal tendencies. And maybe just a little bit of aftershave.

Aree didn't watch much television those days, but the following image flashed briefly in her mind:



Which, of course, only resulted in:



Let the records show, when that night was retold in Negaverse history, that it was all downhill from here.

“Oobbbbbbbbbyyyyyyyy!”

Though significantly more human than she'd been in a long while, Aree was still largely incapable of getting what the newer generation of officers might refer to as a “raging lady boner”. Could she, however, there would be nobody better suited than the always suave General Obsidian to be the culprit. Of course, she appreciated him for entirely different reasons than most women her age. Aree had seen more than her fair share of girls give Andrew Collins sideways glances, never knowing what a man like him did to teenage pretties in dark alleys. They batted their lashes and brushed their hair behind their shoulder, and not once did they suspect that the red-headed man was probably wondering what it would be like to rip out their jugular with his teeth.

No, they never knew that when those handsome green eyes looked them up and down, he was calculating just how many ways he could make them stop breathing before they could get a scream out.

Aree did, however, and it was part of his particular charm. It was the reason the young woman smiled and lifted her arm up to wrap around his neck, black nails scratching the back of his head. Oh, right. He was tall. Another reason she'd always felt more comfortable around him in a Dark Kingdom with an average height of five-foot-three. Aree, too, looked over to Zinkenite, but it was with an appreciative smile. There was a gratitude in that expression that her slightly jumbled words could not convey. Perhaps the greatest difference between the Negaverse's resident dogs of war was their opinions of the newest General-King.

Still, few knew that in Aree's days as a Lieutenant, it had been Obsidian that had trained her. There weren't many officers left from those days, and so the bonds between those who remained had been reinforced. Some had died, some had vanished, some had simply been.... been what? The thought slipped from Aree's mind, and her slight but pleasant intoxication steered her thoughts back to the events at hand.

“I have a drink!” She said, swaying a bit. Her thin frame, thankfully, was not enough to move General Support Beam so much as an inch. Obsidian's presence was all too fitting, as his influence in her life had been greatest when she had been little more than what she was right then. Merely... human. Back then, he had done exactly the same thing he was doing now.

Bringing out the absolute worst in her.

“Had,” she amended, “I had a drink. I would love a drink, Howlite. I would just lov- IS THAT A KITTEN?! Obby, look! He brought me a snack.”

Aree fell forward against Obsidian's encircling arms and stretched her hands out towards Ilmenite. Her black-nailed fingers wiggled anxiously, coming a couple of feet short of the fluffy white thing. The General's grasp, of course, was unyielding. He never did like to let her have anything fun.

“You,” Aree nodded at Benitoite, “I have a very important mission. Very important. Utmost. Doom. Gloom. End of days. Are you ready. Yes? Focus now, don't look at the General. Yes, I know he's quite the dashing young strumpet but I really do need some assistance.

I require that kitten.”

Certain that somehow someone would bring her the object of her immediate attention, Aree leaned back against the red-headed General and carefully surveyed Howlite for a moment. Her grey eye drifted from head to toe, Aree's own head tilting slightly to one side in a curious manner.

If Obsidian hadn't been run off by then, her bony elbow would catch him just between the ribs.

“Could I pull off that haircut?”

Even Tanzanite was in a festive mood-- Serandite was too busy doubling in laughter, watching Tanz's body wrap around Obsidian. She was a little used to Obsidian's manner already and hardly took offense-- Well, she had no reason to. While there was a distinct gap between them that couldn't have predicted their next move, it was certain that there were certain qualities set in stone for Obsidian. Sexyn but humanity's worst gift to the male race, ever.

She should hand Wolframite's present to him. But as she picked up her gift under the tree to hand to him, she heard the sound of -- well, it couldn't possible be someone dying in the back but it sure did sound like it. Bismuthite was approached by the pink-haired General, balancing a gift in one hand, the other holding a napkin and a drink of water towards the captain. "Drinks are only going to make you cough more."

She referred to the drinks handed around the party.