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"Mmmhmm." The little wendigo nodded to his question. "Too warm though." Which was the reason she was too tired to take anything seriously. Her poor little body was still overheating.

"That word was crossed out." Helmut pointed out helpfully, though still sleepily. "So yeah." She squinted up at him again until she felt it was important to add: "Your face is rot." Meaning, of course, red. Because she knew that word in his language. "Don't be meeeean---" She started to whine, but cut herself off with a snort as he corrected himself on the matter. He was correcting himself by saying all sorts of really nice things, and all she could do was squint at him with every ounce of suspicion she could currently muster.

"Okay, what'd you do to Grumpy fangs?" She was on to you, fake Matty. "My Matty always calls me stupid. Verruckt, or whatever." If she noticed he wasn't looking at her again, she didn't say anything; his not making eye contact was about as normal as breathing. Despite being suspicious of this not-Matty, she let him take her hand.

In that moment she felt a strange sort of clarity, so sudden and shocking to her that her droopy eyes widened and her brain was forced to shut down for a single moment. This was too much to process, all of it was too much; a boil who was usually really mean to her was holding her hand and being nice and holding her hand and about to kiss her knuckles and was being nice! It was her turn to tense and look away, down at their feet and everywhere that was not his hand, holding hers. Or his face as he stooped to kiss her knuckles...

She felt his fangs first, a small shock of chill on her already warm skin before the brief press of his lips. Helmut gave a little squeak, not removing her hand from his since he hadn't let go either, but her free hand tapped nervously against her thigh as she tried to figure out what to do next.

"A-a-are you sure you're the real Matty?" She blurted out again, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. The nickname was promising, but it meant little thanks to, well, everything else.

The moment the paper hat was back in his mismatched hands, he held onto it for a moment before looking up to her face.

It was New Years. It was the time for this sort of thing.

Before he chickened out, he suddenly lurched forward to catch her lips with his own stitched ones.

He pulled back after a few slow heartbeats, eyes back down on his paper hat again as he stiffly signed with his free hands, 'Happy-New-Year'.

The hunchback merely made a 'who-me?' gesture, trying his best to look baffled by this accusation.

Jackdamn, Brenley's comment was going to stop her from sharing? And here she thought there would be something interesting ... plus, she could be helpful to her friend in the process! She wouldn't fault Bren, though. He was just as much looking for interesting things as she was...

She offered a small, sad noise to Angeline. "Perhaps later, then?"

Watching Elvira play with the little party favor made Serafina giggle quietly. The poor little familiar was having quite the trouble with it. Maybe one of them needed to lift it up for her, though she seemed to be figuring out her own way to do things--who was that tall guy? Surprised by the sudden presence of someone else, Serafina's eyes lifted up to look the man who was introduced to her as Ashton in the eyes.

Wow.

"Ah, pleased to make your acquaintance, Ashton. I hope your next year is pleasant as well." She bowed her head respectfully, before turning her attention to Angeline and helping her out with the popper. She was leaning into Ashton, Serafina observed. Maybe there was something else going on? ... Or maybe Angeline was just being Angeline and Serafina was overthinking ... again. Wouldn't be the thousandth time.

"Yeah, that should be the right way now, Ang," offered Serafina, eyes bright. Hopefully she didn't take offense to the nickname.

Serafina stepped away, then, and launched the popper as Brenley suggested, watching with amusement as the flurry of glitter and confetti spread around them, especially amused by the bunches of it that ended up right on Brenley's head. She didn't not notice the issues Brenley was having, though, and afterwards, she shot him a concerned glance, not necessarily speaking aloud but wondering if he was alright.

Soren listened to the priestesses exchange words, content to listen until the students interrupted. The zombie colt first, and thinking back on it it had been a horsewoman who had brought him his apples. Not the colt. Perhaps he would need to have words with him. Take him down a peg. All of that was lost as Nergui drew his attention back to more pressing matters.

A guardian was meant to follow a priestess' lead. He followed the pull of her hands easily, waiting with the countdown as that was apparently proper, and by 1 he was getting impatient.

The only way to start off a new year was right, and if the way he kissed the priestess was anything to go by for the upcoming year then the year promised to be full of enthusiasm, experience, and lots and lots of moaning tongue enjoyment.

And just like that the rest of the world fell away and Nergui and her the guardian were the only ones left. She tangled her fingers into the warm lengths of cinnamon hair, and she rose up onto tiptoes, and she melted into that kiss with cheering and music filtering through as far away background noise.

If kisses were sustenance then the mare would sated for the rest of her days. If they were currency, she'd be rich beyond her wildest dreams. If this was a preview of the rest of the night year, then Nergui could expected wonderful things.

When they parted she clung to him, giddy and lightheaded. Perhaps even the softest of giggles had leaked out as dark arms sliding around his shoulders and squeezed tightly before loosening so he could rise up once again. Oh, but she kept herself pressed against his side, and the languid look that rested on delicate features was one of pride and propriety. She was certainly of Death, but in that moment she could have belonged in conquest.

It really wasn't as though Hadiyya needed much prompting where affection was concerned. The count down began, and the djinn happily joined in as she turned to peg her fae with a very meaningful smile. If it was true that the first seconds of the new year somehow played any role in influencing the outcome the rest, then she was determined to start them off properly.

It was a decidedly devious light that shown in those glowing eyes as she looked up at him, cupping his cheeks with cool hands. "Happy new years," was murmured against his lips, and then she was kissing him. Full and long and completely shameless.

She was flushing when they parted, and part of that was the atmosphere, the lingering pull of Marosa's power, but the rest, the majority, was all adoration.

And then quite suddenly she spotted another familiar face, and the soft adoration morphed into something bordering on impish. She lay a kiss on Marosa's cheek, whispering to him that she'd be back in a moment, then slid away and through the crowd.

Jove wouldn't hear the marid approaching, but he would feel dainty hands as they slid over his shoulder. Yaya molded against his back, nuzzling her cheek to his as she murmured out, "Happy new year." Then she lay a very large, wet kiss on his cheek.




"Yes we've ..." Jory trailed off, blinking as the music softened and a voice came over the PA system. He took that to mean it was nearly midnight, and automatically glanced around for a clock before the boil on the mic mentioned kissing. It made the afanc freeze, tensing where he stood with Chaya's arm wrapped around his own. All at once he was overly aware of the ghouls beside him as the count down began, and when everyone reached one, and the cheering began, the poor boil went pale, skin whitening, before a wash of cool color rose over his cheeks.

Why did it have to be kissing?

People were kissing?

Well, good for them, he supposed. Ignatius shrugged off the mention, weaving through the crowd of kissing and not-kissing people to bring himself near to the odd, leafless tree sitting closer to the front of the room. He was supposed to make a wish for the new year on this tree...

What was his wish for the new year?

Ignatius wasn't totally certain, to be honest, but he could probably think of a few things that'd work. So, he swiped up a piece of paper and a pencil, spinning it between his fingers as he thought about it.

Ah, that would work!

Ignatius quickly scrawled down something on the piece of paper before rather haphazardly hanging it on the tree.

Dear Wishing Tree:
I wish... for some awesome friends
From: Y. Ignatius Svarog