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The crisp chilled air smelled of winter. Of February.

Kimberly, brown hair pulled back in a french braid secured by her pink scrunchie, smiled in excitement as she surveyed the clearing. The drifts of snow had been swept off into the thicker parts of the tree-laden forest and the area looked as though a white carpet had been draped over the hardened dirt. The sunlight filtering through glinted against the frozen snowflake facets making it appear as though glitter had been strewn (or dumped) over the ground. A variety of streamers and balloons (red, white, pink--with a few blue, yellow, black, green, and purple since the paint had run out long before) were tied around tree trunks or low hanging branches to give it a more festive feel. Proper paper hearts--despite their anatomical flaws--somehow seemed to make it seem equally romantic and friendly. A table (a horizontally split log supported by odds and ends) had been set up with treats and beverages. All in all it looked very nice, all things considered.

She had decided when the month arrived that she had to do something. She was not a girl who tended to be idle and the close confines of the den where beginning to make her itch. The beginning of February was the answer to it all. She'd narrowed her brown eyes on her friends and told them she was going to throw a party. Neither had found the foolishness to talk her out of it. After all it was a clear indication that she needed a distraction, needed something to do. Jason had quickly determined that he could scout to make sure no one attempted to crash or ruin her party and Billy had stepped up to help with whatever she needed. The scientist had made one plea, "While I find it admirable that you are hosting a sure to be tremendous festivity, would it not be more appealing to cite it as a sweetheart and friendship party?", to which she had relented. How could she not? (He looked so adorably nervous at the mention of the word sweetheart and she didn't really want to attend a sweetheart party alone--true, she had Billy but he was her cute, awkward, adorable friend and until a certain other superhero got a hint--) Thus the Sweetheart & Friendship party it became.

The left-over supplies from the float building had come in useful (she knew they would--it was why she'd taken them). She'd managed to make some maps and plenty of posters to hang around the Oasis, directing everyone to the clearing she'd chosen as the best spot. With all the effort she'd put into it, only the uninterested or those wanting to ruin it wouldn't have some desire to approach and inspect the goings-on. Even the hodgepodge characters that roamed would surely be intrigued. Who didn't want a sweetheart or a friendship?

"I think it's ready," Kimberly murmured. She smoothed down the skirt of her dress, a soft pale pink floral pattern smock worn over a pale pink tee, and turned towards her friend. He looked clean--although he had opted to wear his everyday clothes, blue and white striped shirt with overalls. She gave a grin, nothing else really would have suited him anyway.

"Affirmative. I believe others will start to arrive shortly," he replied, using a handkerchief to clean his glasses, before situating them back on his face. He returned her grin before ducking in close, "Happy birthday, Kim," he whispered softly before slipping off to greet any early guests. She'd need a minute, he was sure. It never got easier being so far away from home, from family, from friends on her birthday. The party was to distract her, not from boredom, but from homesickness. Not even heart-shaped boxes of chocolates or pink stuffed animals could help with that. But as far as everyone else was considered, there was no birthday only Valentine's Day. And that was a good enough reason for a party.

Kimberly smiled wide at Chel, letting her eyes travel over the female's attire and giving a nod of approval (the host matching was a nice touch), as a low laugh bubbled in her throat. "No, definitely not a--," she paused trying to think of the appropriate term, "makeout party." Perhaps not the actual term but it would work. "It might turn into one if we do that," she teased the exotic brunette. Although it wasn't the worst idea--she wasn't going to entertain it yet.

She lifted her head, giving a quick glance around, "Maybe later, though," she winked (more teasing than anything else). She leaned forward to give a hug to the other girl. "I'm really glad you came. How are you, Chel?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw a certain boy do an about face and held back a laugh at her friend's antics. He was so afraid he was going to get cornered and with actions like that, she might just make sure he did.

Patience was a myth. No one could be patient with the sighing, lamenting mess of a lovesick fool she found herself in the company of. She felt like a once beautiful plant that was now brittle and shriveled and being handled by a clumsy nitwit. She let out a sigh herself, a low breath of air that anyone with sense would have taken as a warning.

"...Mista J's mouth..."

"...for me n' Puddin'..."

"...right, Red?"

"He would though!"

She shuddered violently, brows narrowing as her lips pursed--the light reflected as a wet sheen spread over her mouth--before whirling on her companion. "Shut up!" she snapped (not unlike the jaws of a Venus Flytrap snapping shut on it's prey). She sucked in a breath, trying very hard to not throttlebeathitkisshurtbreak the besotted clown. It did little good.

With a jerk of her head, vibrant red locks slapping through the air, she turned her back on the idiot. "I'm sure your Mista J is tormenting someone. With you out of the way, if he even remembers you in the first place, he's probably having a romantic dinner with the stupid bat," she muttered. She needed something to pounce on, she was going out of her mind (as usual) with the clown's pining. Ugh.

"Uhm, er, h-he-hello."

Kimberly's ears swiveled to the stammering voice, head turning to look at the new otter. She gave a warm smile as her brown eyes looked at his spotted pelt--she reminded him a bit of a cat or a leopard or something feline. She'd never seen this particular fellow before (then again there were a lot of otters and minis and predators she hadn't seen before).

"Hi!" she greeted warmly, mouth falling from a smile to a wide grin. "I'm Kimberly, this is Chel," she introduced, lifting her eyes to search the area--"our friend Billy is around here somewhere..." she trailed off with a shrug when she couldn't find him. (A slight twitch of her ears was the only indication she'd noticed Ivy or Harley--mind already sure that even Zordon would see the sense in whipping out her Power Bow if it came to that.)

She turned her mind forcefully back to the newest arrival, "Are you new around here?" All right, so it was a bit obvious that he probably was but--she was sure he'd appreciate simpler questions. He clearly wasn't as used to social functions as she was but he'd warm up. She'd see to it. Even if she had to ask Chel to supply some liquid courage--just a little tiny bit.

A furrowed brow creased her forehead as a blue otter barged in between Chel and herself and she had to bite on her lower lip to keep from blurting out the name Bulk or Skull. It was something they had done far too often. She rolled her eyes, the most subtle action she could think of, before a giggle escaped at the mention of being slapped.

"Vinny, is it?" she asked turning her brown eyes on the blue male. "Welcome to the party. I'm Kimberly and this is my friend, Chel. What's your name?" she turned her head towards the darker male at the question. She was, already, comparing the two to others she had known though it was hardly fair (no one would want to be compared to Bulk or Skull--though the latter had had his moments).

On the other side of the clearing, Billy looked on in amusement. He imagined a fair few gents would wind up sauntering up to Kimberly and Chel. He was keeping his distance--the latter would surely be trying to make him uncomfortable and parties were really bad enough. Not that the squabbling pair of females nearby was helping any. He scooted further away from them.

In her head, Kimberly would have sworn the party went quiet even though it hadn't. She stared in disbelief at Vinny. Had she heard him right? She gave her ears a flick as her eyes narrowed. Where did he think he was? A black and white movie?

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. The name is Kimberly or Kim, not toots or babe or chick or any other nickname," she huffed. It took her a moment to take in a calming breath--in, out, calm--before shifting her gaze to the other male, Thadius.

"It's all right, Thadius, I've known my fair share of--jerks. I'm sure in time he'll learn," she replied optimistically. She didn't see how anyone could think calling a girl "toots" would win them over. Even Zack wouldn't call a girl that. Bulk and Skull might (perhaps they had, her memory was a bit hazy) but they were--well Bulk and Skull!

She looked skyward, shaking her head, at Vincent's tantrum-like retort. The only hint she wanted to reprimand him was that she stiffened as her ears flattened at the word broads. Obviously he watched really bad black and white movies to boot. And she couldn't say she wasn't a bit relieved when he turned to find someone else.

"Apparently!" Kimberly agreed belatedly. "Well how to act around those you find attractive is rather hard, but it's still no excuse. Treat others how you want to be treated. ...maybe someone should call him a chick," she teased. An amusing thought at least. Although he might like it.

The redhead looked up, she'd been imagining a few annoyances being fed to one of her babies--Batman, Joker, Harley--when she found a blue male inserting himself between herself and the clown. Which was good for Harley. Not so good for the male.

She fixed a super sweet smile on her face (the one that meant she was oh so very glad to be a toxic menace), as she looked over the male. "Hello yourself," she cooed in the seductive voice she only used when she wanted something or was playing with someone. She gave her head a tilt, "I don't know," as she fixed her eyes on Harley, "can he?"

She gave a nod in agreement, filing the idea away for the future. Not that she would do it herself, unless he really offended her. With that thought tucked away she turned her attention back to Thadius. "What do you like to do?" she volleyed back. She didn't figure he (or really any guy) would be the type to care for her favorite activities--at the party or around the Oasis.

Ivy wasn't surprised that Harley didn't reply, that heart and the Joker had her attention. She turned all her anger and annoyance with the both the clowns towards the blue male. A stiffness shot through her spine and she gave an exaggerated laugh at the question though her eyes narrowed. "Oh, why don't you choose? I couldn't possibly make such a hard decision myself," she retorted with thinly veiled sarcasm.