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beastkeeper) wrote2012-01-01 12:42 am
beastkeeper) wrote2012-01-01 12:42 am
ringing in the new year
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.
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[ she dislikes the smoke--it gets into her hair and she'll reek of it for the rest of the night--but she perches upon a table, edging books aside. it's quiet and jack isn't intolerable. for the moment, she can hide away in here. ]
It was getting to be...too much.
[ he'd understand what she meant, jack. she's sure of that much. ]
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[He takes one last, long drag from the cigarette, throws it out the window and digs in his pockets for his pack.]
I take it you don't smoke.
[He should remember, if he cared enough about other people anymore. He doesn't.]
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[ it had always happened, even before she'd arrived here. darla had never been one for parties. her fingers trace the spine of a book, gently brushing over the lettering. ]
No. But I don't mind if you do.
[ that's a lie. but he was here first. she isn't fussy enough about the smoke to make him put it out on her account. ]
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[And painfully hypocritical of him. But he tends to treat practically all other inhabitants of this house as children.]
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It's hardly deserving of congratulations.