Dorm Room Holidays! [Charlie/Ask]

CHRISTMAS AND CHARLIE HAD A LOVE-HATE RELATIONSHIP. Her birth parents never celebrated it, Chief did until he got killed in cold blood, the American foster homes relied entirely on the generosity of nonprofit organizations, and then… a Buddhist adoptive family whose grasp of Christmas entailed eating at KFC and that was about it. In order to spare herself the disappointment, Charlotte saw fit to keep her expectations low. Do not engage with usual cheerful seasonal celebrations, and spare yourself the disappointment that accompanies them.

That was the plan, anyways.

But you know what they say about the best-laid plans.

Perhaps Charlotte’s favorite desk neighbor and dearest friend had proposed celebrating Christmas together. And even though the two of them were the same age, the wide-eyed haplessness with which Jisatsu had asked totally broadsided Charlie. She’d steeled herself against the season, prepared to be the most miserly Grinch possible, and Jisatsu broke through the façade with twinkling eyes and well-placed, “Please?”

Jun was out God-knew-where for God-knew-how-long, so Charlotte offered her room. And she spent the preceding hour tidying it up, making sure there were no stray panties, and the likes, until she heard a faint knock at the door.

Charlotte roused herself from the wardrobe, where she’d been hurriedly packing things in, and closed the door, padding towards it to open it.

There stood Jisa, dressed sparsely and toting a tree that seemed as tall as he was, and a large bag.

“You look like Santa Claus,” the prawn observed, “All you need is the hat—come in. My room is your room.”

She stepped inside to let Jisa in, holding the door open for him.

“You want… tea? Cocoa? I have an electric kettle now.”

It was the Fujioka’s attempt at a Christmas present, and Charlotte was trying to make the best of it. They wanted to give their adoptive daughter something… pragmatic. And pragmatic, it certainly was.

“How are you?” she inquired, closing the door behind him.

329 words

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“Dude, you’re in Support Class,” the prawn reminded her diminutive friend, “Momo could probably make you a Santa suit if you asked nice enough.”

She watched as Jisa straightened the branches of the Christmas tree, hanging a few sparse decorations from the branches. It was kind-of cute, to be honest. She thought they were just going to hangout, but it seemed as if he was going all-out on the Christmas experience.

It was enough to send a warm affection flooding into the prawn’s chest. She squinted her eyes slightly—she wasn’t going to cry. She couldn’t cry.

“One cocoa, coming right up,” she said obediently. Her voice was a little phlegmy from the threat of emotions boiled over. She flicked the kettle on, which already had water in it, then went to her wardrobe where the cocoa powder was stashed, retrieving two packages. She also retrieved a half-eaten bag of marshmallows, which she kept close to her chest. Thankfully, Jisatsu seemed busy, which made it easier to sneak them back towards the desk.

“A lot of people go home for Christmas,” the prawn agreed, smiling faintly, “It feels like a uh… ghost dorm. Like a ghost town?”

She tucked the marshmallows behind a stack of books, returning to the wardrobe for two clean mugs and a spoon. These were deposited on the desk. The prawn then took a seat, watching the water in the kettle and waiting for it to start boiling. She rested her head upon her hand.

“It’s been too cold for me to go outside,” she murmured, “Yojin and I are working on a prototype for boots for me, so I can go outside… but my feet have to fit in them.”

Otherwise the prawn was quickly scurrying from the dorms to the main building with plastic bags on her feet, on no shoes at all, and hoping that her feet found no ice patches.

318 words

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THE PRAWN HUFFED, UNABLE TO contain the smile that curled at her mandibles. Okay, so maybe the idea was a little silly. But Jisa would look really cute dressed-up as Santa. And it really was something that costume design portion of Support could manage.

While waiting for the water to boil, the prawn tore open the packets of powdered cocoa, emptying two apiece into the mugs. Regardless of what the packaging said, you needed two packets of cocoa for it to really even taste like anything. When she was certain Jisa wasn't looking, the prawn surreptitiously opened the marshmallow bag and took a furtive handful, emptying some marshmallows into the mugs.

"Not even heated boots, though!" the prawn corrected, "Just boots that fit my feet, and have insulation. Like... normal snow boots."

Jisa had flopped onto her bed, kicking his feet up as he spoke. Charlotte couldn't help herself-- she leaned over, and ran a finger along the instep of one of his feet.

"I bet you don't struggle with cold feet, though, with all that fluff," the prawn teased.

Her assault was hampered by the boiling electric kettle. The prawn sat up again, scooting back towards the desk to switch the kettle off. Charlie poured the water into the prepared mugs, steam roiling up from the cups. Marshmallows bobbed towards the top.

She retrieved a spoon to stir the powder in more thoroughly,

"Here," she said softly, sliding the cup towards the edge of the desk, closer to where Jisa had flopped, "You'll probably want to let it cool a bit."

ooc notes:

“Yeah, at least when I shed it’s all at once, and all in one piece,” the prawn said simply. Well, if you could call molting “shedding”. Charlie couldn’t imagine having fur and shedding it. Or having to sweep all of that up. She removed her surgical mask from over her insectoid mouth, yawning just to stretch the cramped muscles of her mouthparts. She then carefully lifted her mug of cocoa, following Jisa’s suit and blowing on the scalding beverage.

“Eh, enjoying the time off,” the prawn said simply, “I’m not big on holidays, really. Never have been. Just another day.”

A pragmatic answer from a pragmatic teen. When you never really celebrated the holidays, they didn’t hold that same kind of wonder for you. All the other kids were receiving gifts and looking at Christmas lights, and waiting for some mythical trespasser—and you were busy running errands for your father-figure?

“And the halls are too quiet,” the prawn continued, “I’ve gotten used to the noise of having neighbors, so when it’s a ghost town like this, it makes me nervous.”

“How about you? You holding up okay?” she asked. Charlie raised the cup to her mouth, testing the temperature of the drink. Still too hot—she winced at the cocoa that splashed into her mouth, and swallowed it a touch painfully, pinching her eyes shut. Tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

“Ah, careful, it’s still really hot,” the prawn warned, laughing through watering eyes.

Realizing that Jisa may have a less cynical view of the holidays, the prawn cleared her throat, peering down at her friend.

“That said… want to do any holiday things, since we’re here?” she asked, “I know they’ve got some Christmas movies online.”

Jisatsu Keiko

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WE CAN GO CHECK IT OUT,” the prawn said, at the mention of the Christmas movies that were potentially downstairs, “I know that I’ve got some on Netflix, too… can’t get away from the ads.”

Charlotte finally tried to take a sip of her cocoa, and found it to be a manageable level of warm. She sipped at it, her outer maxillae gripping the cup slightly.

Wordlessly, she reached for her laptop and opened it up. After a few moments, the dark screen powered-on, and the prawn clicked the touchpad, prompting the password dialog to pop-up. Above the password dialog, a picture of a normal shrimp, photoshopped a bright blue.

“I’ll pull Netflix up and we’ll see if anything there strikes our fancy, yeah?” the prawn advised her friend.

She signed-in, hit enter, and waited for the device to wake itself up. It wasn’t long before Charlotte had found her way to her Netflix homepage, the animated (albeit muted) clips of film immediately beginning. She found her way to the Christmas movies, then pushed her chair back from the desk.

“Have a look,” Charlotte said, gesturing to the computer. She was, as a whole, unfamiliar with quite a few of the movies—but maybe Jisa had one that was particularly nostalgic for him? So she would let him choose. The prawn brought her cup to her lips again, and waited for her friend to make his decision.

ft. jisatsu keiko

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AS JISA PERUSED THE DIGITAL selection of movies online, the prawn plopped rose from her desk chair, taking her mug of cocoa with her. Good, he was preoccupied—the prawn unlatched the door to her wardrobe, pulling it open just wide enough. It was a mess of clothes—some on hangers, some spooled on the floor around the 3-drawer dresser. On the top shelf, there was a sundry of books, and in particular one noteworthy item—a present, wrapped in simple green paper. Charlotte grabbed the item with one hand, stealing a glance over her shoulder as she did so, and then closed the wardrobe by bumping the door with her hip.

“See anything you like?” the prawn inquired sweetly. She walked over to the bed, cup in one hand, gift in the other, and sank into it. They’d probably sit together on her bed to watch the movie, as was customary for their get-together’s in the past.

If and when Jisa had chosen a movie, Charlotte would hold up the package, which fit into the palm of her hand.

“I got this for you,” the prawn said simply, holding the package at arm’s length. The statement was rather straightforward and unceremonious, and the prawn’s gaze cut towards the door to her room as she admitted getting her diminutive friend a present. A trace of embarrassment, maybe?

ft. jisatsu keiko

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CHARLOTTE RETRIEVED HER PACKAGE without a hitch, and waited as Jisa surveyed the choices upon the screen. When he finally decided on one, and turned to face the prawn, Charlie cracked a smile. Jisa took the package into his own, fluffy hands, but he waited to open it, proffering a package of his own.

Charlotte accepted the offering, cradling it reverently in her massive hands. It was a soft package, and the prawn squeezed it experimentally. Kinda like Charlotte’s.

“Is it okay if I open this?” she asked. A cultural thing that Charlotte’s parents had taught her was that it wasn’t always polite to open packages in front of the people who gave them, ergo the request.

“You can open mine,” Charlotte insisted.

The prawn opened the gift by tracing her fingers along the seams, breaking the tape. After carefully undoing Jisa’s wrapping job, she unveiled his present.

Within, an ushanka hat—fur-lined and decorated in a multicolor geometric fabric on the outside. The prawn turned the hat over in her hands, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

“Jisa… it’s so cute… thank you so much.”

She lowered her antennae, carefully pulling the hat on over her head. It… actually fit her head. And it was warm.

“How do I look?” the prawn asked her friend.

ft. jisatsu keiko

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