Antinoos (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
no_mere_marble) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
milliways_bar2012-12-19 10:08 pm
no_mere_marble) wrote in milliways_bar2012-12-19 10:08 pm
Entry tags:
Snowball fight -- party post!
Contrary to popular belief, there is snow in the higher mountains of Greece and Asia Minor in winter.
When Antinoos came in from sweltering Thebes tonight and found snow outside, he got himself warm clothes like a Greek hunter or Roman soldier in winter would wear, and ran right outside. He had missed snow!
Now he's out there, enjoying the snow and the cold, and acting, for once, exactly as young as he is. After a while, he finds that he can't resist the idea of surprising some poor unfortunate (he's outside, so it's no violence, right), and when a somewhat small and scruffy fellow comes outside, he gets a soft, large snowball right in the face, from a safe position twenty yards away, in the bushes.
Ned Poins, however, is well versed with ambushes, so he spots soon where the attack came from, and gathers snow to retaliate, running towards the shrubbery -- and so, the battle is joined, and soon, there is a big white-and-brown dog yelping excitedly, and a big, blond Scotsman grinning widely and waiting to decide which side to take.
However, when you come outside today, you might get caught in the crossfire; or perhaps you'd like to join the battle just for the fun of it?
[[OOC: Party post -- tag in, then splat somebody else! Have at! Open until the weekend ends. Snowball fight as per this post.]]
[[ETA: Gone to bed now -- please threadhop and have the snowball fight among yourselves! Thanks!]]
When Antinoos came in from sweltering Thebes tonight and found snow outside, he got himself warm clothes like a Greek hunter or Roman soldier in winter would wear, and ran right outside. He had missed snow!
Now he's out there, enjoying the snow and the cold, and acting, for once, exactly as young as he is. After a while, he finds that he can't resist the idea of surprising some poor unfortunate (he's outside, so it's no violence, right), and when a somewhat small and scruffy fellow comes outside, he gets a soft, large snowball right in the face, from a safe position twenty yards away, in the bushes.
Ned Poins, however, is well versed with ambushes, so he spots soon where the attack came from, and gathers snow to retaliate, running towards the shrubbery -- and so, the battle is joined, and soon, there is a big white-and-brown dog yelping excitedly, and a big, blond Scotsman grinning widely and waiting to decide which side to take.
However, when you come outside today, you might get caught in the crossfire; or perhaps you'd like to join the battle just for the fun of it?
[[OOC: Party post -- tag in, then splat somebody else! Have at! Open until the weekend ends. Snowball fight as per this post.]]
[[ETA: Gone to bed now -- please threadhop and have the snowball fight among yourselves! Thanks!]]
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Yeah, that'll do it.
Staring at her, he licks his thoroughly warmed lips.
"What-- how did you--?"
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Her smile turns cheeky in an instant.
"She told me this mornin', when I left t'tend to the stables."
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"Great. She tried to force a pink cupcake on me but I told her to donate it to someone who actually wants a pink cupcake."
Then, squirming uncomfortably, he gripes, "Okay, so you do realize that my shorts are cold and wet, right?"
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"Well, that was only the first step. I thought maybe I'd draw you a hot bath, an' say happy birthday the right way."
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"Oh, you. You. You? You are good. No, wait, lemme rephrase that -- you are bad. Only you would put me through this just to get my pants off. There are other, easier ways, y'know, like for example, asking me to take my pants off, but no, you had to make a whole thing out of it. Alright. Okay. I knew I liked you for some reason."
He mirrors the glint in her eye.
"Happy birthday to me, then."
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"Well, I wouldn't say that was my only reason."
She takes a few casual steps away, bending to gather up another snowball.
"It was fun seein' the look on your face."
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He approaches her, his hands held out toward hers.
"C'mere, I'll show you how to pack a better snowball. One that doesn't disintegrate when you throw it."
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"Uh-uh. You're cold an' wet, an' you're gonna offer t'teach me how t'pack a snowball? Y'jus' wanna get revenge."
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"I am not gonna get revenge! I'm just tryin' to be nice! No hard feelings or whatever. Honest!"
IT'S A TRAPno subject
For every step forward he takes, she takes another back.
"Or, in your case, born half a century ago today."
Yeah, she's going to need that snowball, isn't she.
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"Really? Really? Look, I don't even have any snow in my hands. I ain't gonna do anything, honey, I just wanna show you how to make a better snowball, that's all. Why can't I even do that without you bein' suspicious? Aw, c'mon."
IT'S STILL A TRAPno subject
"All right."
She lowers her hand.
"But, before y'come any closer, lemme put it like this. There's an extra treat in it for you when y'come upstairs, so long as y'don't double-cross me. Do, an' you'll be takin' a bath alone."
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IT'S A...OKAY, RECONSIDERING"Anything you say, honey."
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She is the smuggest cowgirl who ever smugged.
"Okay. So show me your stuff."
She's especially curious as to how he put that spin on the curveball.
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Finally, he's allowed to approach. He takes the lump of snow that's a poor excuse for a snowball and tosses it aside. See? He didn't mash it into her hair or anything.
"Start over with some fresh snow. Okay, now cup your hands, like this." He cups his hands over hers as they close around the snow. "Don't press too hard or else it'll just fall apart, but just keep the snow moving, use your fingers to shape it into a sphere. If the snow's too dry, it won't pack, so, horror of horrors, you gotta use your bare hands to melt it a little, give it some moisture, but this snow's okay. You wanna hit a moving target with it? That's a little complicated, but it's sorta like throwing a curveball in baseball. Put two fingers up top, thumb on the bottom, curl your ring and pinkie. When you throw, raise your elbow up to your shoulder, and when you release, you gotta sorta follow through with the wrist and middle finger, but that takes practice and ain't really necessary if you're just out to peg someone no matter what. I'll show you with a real baseball someday."
SO...IT'S NOT A TRAPno subject
"Y'do this a lot, then?"
She looks amused. Snowball accuracy and technique aside, he seems to know an awful lot about a lot of things. She wonders if that just comes from growing up with a large family.
"I think I'm feelin' sorry for your siblin's."
She packs the snowball the way he shows her, and even attempts throwing it at a tree the way he described. It's not bad for a first attempt.
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He watches her pack a snowball and throw it at a tree.
"Nice try. Good aim-- well, of course you got good aim. Like I said, I'll show you with a baseball some time, but..."
He goes up behind her, raises her elbow so it's level with her shoulder, then slowly extends her arm, his fingers around her wrist and his chest pressing against her shoulders, stretching the rest of her body out with it in a vague pitcher's form.
"Like that."
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"Christ inna chicken basket, Tommy. You kids weren't horsin' around."
She'll remember that one. He can't even pretend she's the bad one now; she'll just claim it's self-defense.
Smirking, she lets him puppet her movements and press his body up against hers, not even teasing him once. Though, that isn't to say she's not thinking about it. Unnecessary touching and Tommy were made to go together.
"Like that?"
Okay, there might be a playful sparkle in her eyes when she repeats the motion, glancing up for approval.
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Short of throwing rocks at each other, at least. Hey, there were only like seven channels on TV, what were they supposed to do for entertainment on a winter day? Read?
Kate imitates the pitch, and he raises his eyebrows with a bob of his head. Bending down to pack another snowball, he idly tosses it back and forth from hand to hand.
"That's pretty good. You might win a snowball fight someday."
He grins. He might be pushing it with the bath thing again.
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Lord only knows when old habits might resurface, and if anyone walks away from one of their encounters with welts, it's going to be Tommy.
(It's always Tommy.)
"Someday?"
Her eyebrows hit her hairline and she scoffs, giving his waistband a firm tug.
"I do believe I won a snowball fight today, sugar."
She struts a victory circle around him.
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Amused, he looks over his shoulder at her as she circles around him. The snowball rolls from hand to hand.
"No, I let you win."
Still pushing it.
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She pops up from around his opposite side, mouth wide with shock. She gives his stomach a firm poke.
"I licked you, an' you know it. Admit it."
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"Ow, hey-!" He rubs the spot, giving her a look. "You didn't lick me, baby. For one thing, I didn't have any cheesecake on me."
SEE WHAT HE DID THERE.
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Master of subtlety is Tommy Gavin.
"It ain't too late for that, y'know. Birthday Boy. However, 'fore we get there, you're gonna hafta admit — "
She leans in real close, tapping the end of his nose with one snowy, wet finger.
" — that I. cleanly. beat your ass."
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Withholding sexyfuntimes isn't fair.
"So-- no admitting, no licking?"
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