It toddles on through the snow at a quickened pace, joining its brethren who are too busy trying to hit Henry with tiny snowballs to notice. Henry, however, has noticed her kindness, and though he occasionally shuffles out of the way to avoid a thimble-sized snowball (and sometimes he doesn't, letting them hit him), none even come close to hitting his face.
He underhand-throws a gently-packed snowball at the one drawing near, and it splatters across its dome-shaped head. Woah!! it declares, shaking off snow.]
If any of you can hit me on the face, I'll be impressed. Not doing too good so far.
[Come on, mushrooms and tiefling. He dares you. He's also waiting for Sprezzatura to come closer so he can throw with actual earnestness.]
[Heheheh. He'd say he's always gentle (liar), but then the snowball sails past him and boffs against the townhome. Whoops is right.
Both Henry and the mushrooms do the thing where they turn and look, freezing in place, as though they expect someone to rush out and yell at them for throwing snow at their windows. No such thing happens, though, but the mushrooms laugh and point at Sprezzatura. FONDLY. THEY LOVE HER FOR IT.
Oohhh, you're gonna get in twouble!]
Edited (important mushroom son clarification ) 2025-02-18 00:32 (UTC)
No harm, no foul. It doesn't even look like there's anyone home.
[Shouldn't Henry know by now not to tempt fate. Because as soon as he says it, the window creaks open; a wrinkled old man with thick spectacles squints, poking his head out of the open space.
"Hello?" he says. "No soliciting!"
Aaaa! exclaim the mushrooms in a chorus, immediately turning and running away.]
[He watches as their little fungi sons abandon them (they don't run off far; they're still short little guys who have to run through tall snow), and Henry merely smiles at the old man, still holding... a snowball.
Thankfully, the elderly gentleman is far too oblivious (and near-sighted) to notice. He grumbles.
"Ah... damn birds. They're about as blind as I am! Well, you be careful. Don't want to get hit by one of those... avian rascals..." his statement ends with inaudible grumbling as he recedes back into his home, shutting the window behind him.
Henry can't help but laugh as he turns to look at Sprezzatura.]
He actually stumbles backwards, utterly unexpecting it, into a snowdrift someone shoveled into a pile. But he flings his snowball at her as he goes down with a poof.]
The mushrooms in the background laugh and cheer her on.
THIS IS BULLYING!! Henry covers his face with his forearms, sitting up as she pelts him again and again and again — each snowball becomes more and more loosely packed, so it's just a veil of white in his squinting vision the entire time.]
[Leapt onto, and now getting snow piled onto his face and body—]
W-wait, Sprezzatura, you— mfhh—
[Bye Henry, a soul more snowdrift than man. Even more so when the little mushrooms waddle up quickly and start kicking snow at him with their stubby legs. It’s the effort that counts.
[The mushrooms continue to kick little fluffy waves of snow at Henry, though it's negligible. Henry tries to heft himself into a sit, but he's still covered in snow, so he opts for telepathy.]
[ which prompts a low laugh, not quite a giggle, as she buries her hands into the snow on either side of him and curls them beneath his back and lifts. up you get, lyubimy. ]
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vecna) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
finalflight2024-12-26 07:22 pm
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Okay! Let’s attack him togethah! Thwow snow at his face!
Yes, these are definitely Henry’s sons.]
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this time, a little pat on its bottom to urge it forward. ]
Just so. We will emerge victorious, hm?
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It toddles on through the snow at a quickened pace, joining its brethren who are too busy trying to hit Henry with tiny snowballs to notice. Henry, however, has noticed her kindness, and though he occasionally shuffles out of the way to avoid a thimble-sized snowball (and sometimes he doesn't, letting them hit him), none even come close to hitting his face.
He underhand-throws a gently-packed snowball at the one drawing near, and it splatters across its dome-shaped head. Woah!! it declares, shaking off snow.]
If any of you can hit me on the face, I'll be impressed. Not doing too good so far.
[Come on, mushrooms and tiefling. He dares you. He's also waiting for Sprezzatura to come closer so he can throw with actual earnestness.]
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[ he just fell!! retaliatory, she over-handed throws a much more densely packed snowball at his chest. ]
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[She really is protective of them, he thinks. It's endearing, even as her snowball careens towards him and thunks him in the chest.]
Ow. Unlike you, who doesn't know the meaning of gentle!
[THROWS HIS SNOWBALL BACK AT HER, DEFINITELY NOT UNDER-HAND]
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And you are gentle man, is that it?
[ she hurls another which sails past him and hits a window of a neighbouring townhome. oops. ]
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Both Henry and the mushrooms do the thing where they turn and look, freezing in place, as though they expect someone to rush out and yell at them for throwing snow at their windows. No such thing happens, though, but the mushrooms laugh and point at Sprezzatura. FONDLY. THEY LOVE HER FOR IT.
Oohhh, you're gonna get in twouble!]
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No harm, no foul. It doesn't even look like there's anyone home.
[Shouldn't Henry know by now not to tempt fate. Because as soon as he says it, the window creaks open; a wrinkled old man with thick spectacles squints, poking his head out of the open space.
"Hello?" he says. "No soliciting!"
Aaaa! exclaim the mushrooms in a chorus, immediately turning and running away.]
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T'was bird, Mister Ghats.
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Thankfully, the elderly gentleman is far too oblivious (and near-sighted) to notice. He grumbles.
"Ah... damn birds. They're about as blind as I am! Well, you be careful. Don't want to get hit by one of those... avian rascals..." his statement ends with inaudible grumbling as he recedes back into his home, shutting the window behind him.
Henry can't help but laugh as he turns to look at Sprezzatura.]
Wow. We really are reliving our childhoods.
[Well, speculatively, anyway.]
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That was your fault!
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He actually stumbles backwards, utterly unexpecting it, into a snowdrift someone shoveled into a pile. But he flings his snowball at her as he goes down with a poof.]
You're the one who missed-!
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snowball after snowball—though in her haste to pelt him thoroughly, each is less well formed than the last. ]
Matters not! Are you impressed? Impressed now? How about now?
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The mushrooms in the background laugh and cheer her on.
THIS IS BULLYING!! Henry covers his face with his forearms, sitting up as she pelts him again and again and again — each snowball becomes more and more loosely packed, so it's just a veil of white in his squinting vision the entire time.]
Okay, okay! I give up!
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SHRIEKS ]
Knave!
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The mushrooms gasp: Cheating!
FLINGS SNOW AT THEM TOO (gently)
Waaahh!!
Henry finds himself laughing.]
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[ she's tumbling down on top and just. grabbing armfuls of snow from the drift itself that he's fallen into and hauling it onto his face. ]
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W-wait, Sprezzatura, you— mfhh—
[Bye Henry, a soul more snowdrift than man. Even more so when the little mushrooms waddle up quickly and start kicking snow at him with their stubby legs. It’s the effort that counts.
Yeah!!!
henry really is that jojo meme rn]
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