ringing in the new year

[beastkeeper]

For the most part, the beginning of every new year on the block is the same. There's the party, held down in the common room (barely distinguishable from the lobby, but hey, who cares), and the reminders that go up in the week prior, telling people to bring food to share (not that everyone does — the witch provides more than enough, anyhow). There are, of course, smaller parties, held in the apartments upstairs or on the grounds, and the combinations of creatures always rotates (more or less), but the overall air remains the same. The end of one year and the ushering in of another is cause to celebrate.

Comments

[insides]

[Jack doesn't find her playfulness particularly charming, truth be told. He gives her a bored look until she tells him the answer he was looking for, finally following in her encouragement and pushing the glass up to his lips for a sip. Always moderate, always reluctant. Boundaries are for someone else to break.]

He can keep his bloody regards.

[hysterics]

[ There is part of Betina that enjoys his disinterest. And it's quite possible that part of her is much larger and more insistent than the piece of her that vies for his attention. Apathy is not scorn — no, perhaps it's much worse — and Betina oftentimes wonders how far she must press before Jack looses interest in her completely. (To press and press, only to press on farther, if not to learn when the thing inside him gains interest again.) ]

Now, Jack, [ Betina says mindfully. ] That's not very sporting of you, dear.

[insides]

That's not the word that comes to mind when either of us is involved, Betina, is it.

[Dry as always. He presses and licks his lips with the smallest attempt to be subtle when he finishes what's left in the glass, stretching his arm to hand it back to its owner.]

[hysterics]

[ When Betina shifts to take the emptied glass from Jack, she curls her fingers over his but doesn't relinquish the thing from his grasp. Instead, she just holds it, her grip tightening around his, her hand applying a slow and steady pressure on the delicate bowl attached to the stem. (She knows precisely how much force it takes to cause the glass to shatter and snap; it wouldn't be the first time she's done it. ]

That's a bit unfair, don't you think? I do love a bit of sport.

[insides]

[Jack tenses immediately when he realizes she isn't releasing him. Disinterest is now replaced by something else entirely, alert eyes trying to hide apprehension, guessing what she's after and trying not to think about it. (About him.) He isn't very successful at it.]

Betina. Let me go.