Post by gamemaker minerva hale on Oct 22, 2017 20:45:38 GMT -5
She tied a ribbon to the ceiling, let the spool go and watched it spiral to the ground. It was freeing; a breath of relief and a comfort, and most importantly, a distraction.
"Can I help?" she had asked Reinhardt. "Don't see why not."
She looked at the once vacant hall, admired the changes that had been made. Purple lights against black paper walls, bats and jack-o-lanterns hanging from the ceiling, spiderwebs draped over every corner and anything that would sit still long enough. Blacklights lined the doorways, glowing dark and ominous. She bet the others would like that bit. Made the whole thing seem less elementary and more dive-bar-where-people-might-have-died. Though it wasn't exactly something she liked, she had accepted that she was outnumbered.
"Done?" Reinhardt asked, walking up with a clipboard and looking at her up on her ladder.
"Yep!" she called, dusting her hands off.
By the time she got back to the complex, the sun was beginning to set. The wind was dry and biting, and leaves crunched beneath the feet of passersby, and everything seemed to be hosed down with a golden finish, a haze or a memory stuck on the back of a person's tongue. Not quite nostalgic, but something. Familiar, maybe. Comforting.
She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down to her palms, held them in place by closing her fingers into a fist, and sneaked her way past Jessie McCree's door. If she was going to ambush him, she was going to do it properly. After all, she couldn't risk him saying no, which was very likely, since he seemed to be against anything fun or, you know, not lethal.
Her eyes narrowed as an image of Hanzo flashed through her mind for a moment. She unlocked her door to her apartment, snagged a covered outfit out of her wardrobe and a plate of cookies she'd made earlier in the evening, then locked the door behind her again.
This time, when she came to Jessie's door, she didn't sneak past it. Instead, she pulled her foot back and kicked into the base of the half-rotten press wood.
"It's me!" She called, "My hands are full."
The door opened, and she quickly stepped inside, cheerful smile smeared across her face despite wind-chapped cheeks and nothing in particular to be happy about.
"Okay, first off, I brought you cookies. Because I love you and because you've been looking thin. But mostly because I love you."
She sat the plate down, taking a look at Jessie for the first time, who was already wearing his pajamas. She glanced at the clock, which read 8 pm. Jeeze, she thought, and they say I'm the old soul.
Jessie's gaze fell on the closed outfit in her free hand, and before he could do something like take it from her and throw it into the hallway, she unzipped the bag and pulled out its contents: leather chaps, denim pants, gray button-up shirt, black vest, red bandanna, hat; "Cowboy costume. Completely sensible." She waited a moment before adding, "You can wear it at the costume party tomorrow night."
❝ THE HEART IS AN ARROW, IT DEMANDS AIM TO LAND TRUE ❞