The vegetable wingman.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Do you know who'd enjoy being trapped by mischievous mistletoe, collecting kisses from pretty girls and others? Do you know who would enjoy making himself a profession of rescuing helpless mistletoe victims?

BOSSUET WOULD DAMNED WELL ENJOY THAT, is who.

But every time he looks up, there's no sprig of greenery above his head, and every time he spots a mistletoe victim, someone else gets there first. (Often, he has noticed, Bahorel.)

Well, that's luck for you, and it's not as though it's the first time a lonely Laigle has taken matters into his own hands. Now he's in the bar with a potted plant, a potted plant with warning signs.

Warning: Do Not Pull The Mandrake Mistletoe.

and then a newer sign

MISTLETOE. It may resemble a mandrake, but I assure you it is mistletoe and it has me in its relentless vegetable grasp.

...which is all very well and good, and he sets it prominently on the bar next to him while he orders a bottle of wine and an extra glass or two. (He also has a book to read, of course. He wouldn't want to look desperate.) But another part of his mind is working away at the (annoying and probably useless) conversation with Hannibal Lecter, and he's got an eye out for anyone he's seen with the man.



((I'm going on slowtimes, but it's still open! OH MAN I'M SORRY, I fell asleep on the couch mid-sentence, back in the saddle today.))

Comments

[street_sparrow]

"Only you, Lesgle", Gavroche says with amusement, "wouldn't even be able to get bad luck when you want it."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"It's my specialty," he says cheerfully. "Ah--hm. Don't take this the wrong way, Gavroche, but I hope you're not volunteering...?"

He knows Gavroche isn't still a child, but. Some things are just weird.

[street_sparrow]

"...no offence, but no." He grins. "My tastes run more to girls."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Naturally," he says with some haste. "But you know, it's dreadful, all these mistletoe situations, and Bahorel is the one always ready to hand."

[clayforthedevil]

Bahorel reads the sign with every impression of seriousness, one hand over his heart. "A tragic fate!" He drapes an arm over Bossuet's shoulders and leans into conspiratorial closeness. "I hope you were not waiting for rescue long."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"You," he says. "You, my friend, have been haunting this place and making far more than your share of rescues."

[clayforthedevil]

"Would you begrudge the wandering dead their haunts? You, with a home full of kittens and cherubs and this plant that is, according to an almost-legal decree, mistletoe? Unkind, Lesgle. Unworthy. I thought to offer a more convincing prop, or an introduction to one of the rescued. But you make me reconsider."

He is, of course, helping himself to the wine on the table as he talks.

[merryeccentricities]

Joly begins giggling as he reads the sign. "Oh, Bossuet, really?"

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Help," Bossuet says, widening his eyes. "I am in distress."

[merryeccentricities]

"Clearly a dire situation." Joly kisses him fondly on the temple before reaching for the mandrake's sign, still giggling. "'Relentless vegetable grasp'? Have I missed something?"

[sunbaked_baker]

She almost asks, 'Oh gods, have you been stuck too?' in sympathy. Almost. But that is most definitely not mistletoe.

"Um," she says, instead, looking from him to the sign to the plant and back again. "You all right?"

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Mademoiselle, I am helpless. Only a kiss can restore me."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh, you poor thing," she says, sympathetic despite the light laughter she can't help. "You've been struck by the mistletoe, as well?"

[starrydome]

Elrond looks at the sign. Then at the plant. Then at the sign, at Bousset, back at the sign, and then at the plant once again.

None of this makes any sense to a Middle-earth elf.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"...Not a tradition in Rivendell, I take it? And you've avoided the local mistletoes?"

[starrydome]

"It's a tradition. Putting signs on mandrakes?"
For that is clearly what it is and not a mistletoe.

[hadyougoing]

Interestingly, there is a sprig of mistletoe over the head of the young lady who's come to the counter for scrambled eggs and a bagel. She appears to be ignoring it, though, in favor of reading the sign.

Has me in its relentless vegetable grasp, she mouths, her lips twitching.

"Uhh ... you okay over here?"


[ooc: let me know if this is too many threads and i'll try again another time!]

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Some people and their ostentatious ability to collect mistletoe, hrmph. Laigle looks from the mistletoe to the young woman and makes a rueful face. "I'm suffering from terrible ill-fortune. And also I have been trapped, trapped, by this terrible plant."

Halp.

((Come on and join the party! :D))

[hadyougoing]

Ava nods, very seriously.

Or something.

"Is this one of those traps you're supposed to solve by making out?"

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Here's someone looking bemused by the entire tableau as he approaches.

(He's at the wrong angle to see the sign about relentless vegetable grasp, so all he can see is the inexplicably re-labeled mandrake.)

It's pretty mild bemusement, to be fair, because Enjolras is extremely used to being confused by his friends' ideas of entertaining pastimes. Presumably there's either hilarity or a lost bet, or both, involved in all of this.

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

It occurs to Lesgle that Enjolras might have managed to live this long without learning about the special properties of mistletoe. In which case--oh, dear. He does his best to keep his face serious. "I am being seasonal," he says by way of greeting.

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Vaguely amused: "So I see."

He's seen the rest of the sign now. He shakes his head a little, and takes a seat on the next barstool. (On the other side from the mandrake mistletoe, on general principles of leaving that joke for people who are interested in it. Have fun with your mandrake, Bossuet!)

[patterns_bloom]

Alana reads the signs today while approaching the bar. She reads them, and reads them again, furrowing her brow. "Excuse me," she says, quietly. "I couldn't help but notice your signs... You want to be stuck?"

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Well..." He sits up a little straighter. "If it's the mild tyranny of a mistletoe, yes. I wouldn't mind the excuse to escape. That is, ah--help, I am trapped, trapped, will you not rescue a young man in distress?"

She can probably see how he's suffering.

[patterns_bloom]

Alana laughs softly. She can't help it, and the laugh feels rather good. She ends it with a smile. "I see. Clearly this is a serious threat," Alana says. "But I do hardly know you, so please, let me introduce myself. I'm Alana Bloom."