paradisalost | ☠ 031

[So, back at the beginning of the month, Molotov and Brock discussed the fact that his cabin needs a bearskin rug.

Well, like any good consumer, Molotov has decided that she needs to weigh the options properly. But a little input from others never hurt, so she asks the journal.]

I cannot decide on a color. Tell me, what looks best on a rug: black or brown? It also appears that a light tan is an option, but it might not look appropriate in all seasons.

[And then there is some roaring in the background. This is because Molotov is currently standing on the front lawn, surrounded by bears. Just a whole bunch of bears. Grizzlies, black bears, honey bears. There's even a polar bear, though Molotov seems to not be considering that one as a rug, so much as a pet. All of the bears are chained to the ground, and they have muzzles, and Molotov seems to think that makes them safe enough to be petting as she feels their different fur qualities.]

Is anyone here an interior designer? I have a feeling that the largest size available might not be the best option as far as decor goes...

[ OOC: Open! Everyone is free to come and play with/be mauled by Molotov's collection of bears. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The bears cannot live on the lawn. And I cannot put them in the forest, there is no real ecosystem to support them. So I have to build a place for them to live. And I will need your help, darling.

[Squint ... and he slowly walks back over to her. Still eying that bear, though. Ugh, stupid bear. She better not treat that thing like a dog, keeping it around. It's dangerous!]

You were on my back before about building stuff from scratch. Why don't you just wish something?

Even if I wish for it, it would be far too big of a project for me to do on my own.

Why should I help you. Give me a reason.

[Molotov just holds up her hand and wiggles her fingers, eyebrow arched.]

[oh ... not fair]

... are you playing me?

Nyet. But you have to help.

[Suddenly smirking ...]

"Have" to, huh? Just like you have to do something for me if I do?

I am offering to do something for you, but you have to help in order to receive the reward.

... is this a guarantee? I don't want to get shafted, Molotov. [he doesn't know about that double entendre at all]

Good dogs get treats, my darling Samson.

[and good bitches get bred? idek]

Stop calling me a dog and you got a deal.

[Ew, creepy!]

But you are my puppy.

[yep]

No ...

Da. [So much smirking everywhere. Molotov quickly ties her bear to the ground and saunters over to Brock.] My fluffy... pouty... little... puppy.

[NO ... NO, SO RUDE ... Brock just looks around, like maybe this is a trap? Somehow? Brock, stop it.]

No ...

[Molotov just keeps her eye on Brock, like he's prey, and keeps sashaying until she's close enough to press herself against him.]

Oh, da. And you know how much I love my puppy.

[Pressing up against?! How rude! Brock's hands hover at her hips for a moment, unsure, before he lightly touches her with the very tips of his fingers. This still might be a trick! She is being awful seductive, that usually doesn't bode well.]

What? What are you doing.

[Molotov wraps one arm around his neck, and strokes his chest with the other.]

What do you think I am doing?

[Eyeshift. His hands are flush against her hips now, though he's not looking at her. Resist, Samson, resist!!]

Manipulating me.

[Fine then! Molotov makes sure to get close enough to him that he can feel her breath on his neck.]

Howso? It would seem to me that you are getting the better end of this deal...

[That's even ruder ........]

I don't know, Mol. Building a bunch of fences for one little thing doesn't seem all that fair ...

Mmm, play your cards right and it will be far more than one little thing.

[Oh he finally looks at her now. Smirking a little ...]

And how exactly would I do that?

[Molotov smirks back!]

Build everything to my specifications. No complaining. Help me care for the bears until everything is built.

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