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A knock at the door brings Zoroe out of her decorating reverie. “Be right there!”
Carefully she brings herself down from her precarious stretch up the tree dominating an entire corner of her living room. She pauses for a second to marvel at the decorated pine; all the little baubles and snowflake ornaments, the silver tinsel and gold lights, and the statuette of Hvare coiled around the highest branch. Humming along with the cheerful music playing softly from her laptop, Zoroe goes to answer her door.
She smiles warmly at the timid face she’s greeted with. “So good to see you, Phosphorra!”
“Hi, Zoroe,” the tiefling says.
“Thanks for coming.” Zoroe blinks, turning to glance at the clock on her wall. “You’re here a bit early.”
Phosphorra grows a little sheepish. “Um, yes, sorry. I was worried I’d be late, and I guess I overcompensated. I could come back later—”
“No, no,” Zoroe stops her, “it’s fine. Come in, make yourself comfortable.”
Phosphorra steps through the doorway, taking off her coat and hanging it up on the rack next to the door. She glances around Zoroe’s home decked out in Christmas spirit, catching a whiff of baking as she takes a seat on the couch. “Everything looks so nice.”
Zoroe beams, both at the compliment and Phosphorra’s fluffy penguin sweater. “Aw, thank you. It’s been a lot of fun getting it all ready.” As she speaks she goes to her box of supplies, rifling through it thoughtfully. “And I’m not quite done yet.”
“Maybe… I could help?”
“Oh no, dear. You’re my guest.” Zoroe shakes her head, taking a wreath from the box.
“I don’t think that means I can’t lend a hand.” Phosphorra offers her a small smile, and it makes Zoroe falter.
“I… wouldn’t want to trouble you.” An alarm sounds from Zoroe’s phone on the coffee table. “That’s the cookies,” she mutters, slithering off to the kitchen.
Phosphorra watches her go before picking up the wreath. She looks for a good place for it, and quickly settles on hanging it on the front door. Satisfied with how it looks there, she happily clasps her hands together and turns to go back to the box of decorations.
When she turns around, she’s facing Zoroe giving her an accusatory look. Zoroe opens her mouth to say something but Phosphorra speaks first. “I’m sorry, but you were dealing with cookies, which smell amazing by the way, and the wreath was just right there and--”
Her rambling trails off at Zoroe’s laugh and pat to her shoulder. “Relax. If you want to help, I welcome it.” The naga begins retrieving small bundles of plastic leaves from the box, handing a few to Phosphorra. “You seem a bit nervous tonight,” she comments gently.
“Well,” Phosphorra sighs, “I haven’t really been to any sort of party before.”
Zoroe nods sympathetically. “I understand the feeling. The last time I attended a party that wasn’t work-related was…” She pauses, recalling less about when it was and more about who she was with at the time. “...a long time ago. But now,” she says, voice brightening, “we can both have a good time with those close to us.”
Some of the tension leaves Phosphorra’s shoulders, and her fidgeting tail seems to settle somewhat. “I’m excited to try out the Christmas theme,” Zoroe continues. “Obviously I’ve studied the religious aspects of it, but I got to talking with my students about Christmas parties recently and it really sparked my interest. I looked up all kinds of things about them online,” she says proudly.
“I’m glad,” Phosphorra replies. She finally seems to notice what Zoroe has handed her. “Mistletoe,” she remarks, realizing the total amount of it held in both her and Zoroe’s hands. “Um, is this much of it necessary? There’s quite a lot.”
“Based on my research, yes.” Now Zoroe pauses to consider her collection. “Do you think it’s too much?”
Phosphorra shrugs. “I guess not? I don’t have a point of reference.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Following Zoroe’s direction, the two of them hang up the mistletoe in various places throughout the house. Then they set out the food and drinks, string up a bit more tinsel, light a couple matching candles, and Zoroe declares the preparations to be complete.
Not long after, there’s another knock at the door.
“Cybil, hello!”
“Good evening, Zoroe.” Cybil bows their head slightly, then spots Phosphorra giving them a little wave as she nibbles on a cookie. “Phosphorra.”
Zoroe lets them inside, the little jingle bells on the doorknob jingling as she closes the door. “You are right on time.”
“Yes,” Cybil says, removing their coat. They’re dressed in a dark green button-up and gray slacks— just this side of formal. “I’m doing as I was instructed. What other time would I get here?”
“An invitation to a party isn’t exactly an instruction ,” Zoroe chuckles. Cybil blinks at her, confused. “Nevermind, I’m just happy to see you.”
She smiles to herself as Phosphorra insists Cybil try some of the cheese. Their punctuality, however, had the inadvertent effect of making Zoroe… worry. What if no one else wanted to come to her party? It’s not like she was throwing a “rager,” as Calypso had called it. Maybe Phosphorra and Cybil were just being polite, and the others decided they had better things to do than to visit her.
But then comes another knock at the door a few minutes later and Zoroe perks up again.
She barely has enough time to open the door before Kissare wraps her in a tight hug. “Hiiii, Zoroe!” Kissare pulls back to kiss her as if it’s been years since they last saw each other. “We’re heeeeere!”
“Goodness, yes, you’re here. Hello,” Zoroe says, dazed. She wills her face to cool off as she sees Khaela waiting respectfully at the bottom of the steps. “And hello to you as well, Khaela.”
Khaela smirks at her, hands resting in the pockets of her letterman jacket. “Hey.”
“Oh my gosh, it smells incredible in here! What have you made for us, sunshine?” Kissare releases Zoroe and hurries into the house.
Zoroe lets out a quick sigh, regaining her composure. “Where is… Wasn’t Calypso riding with you two?” she asks.
“She said she was running late,” Khaela answers, walking inside more calmly. “She told us to go ahead and she’d catch up.”
“Oh dear.” Zoroe picks up her phone to message the tiefling in question.
When she looks up from her phone, Kissare saunters up to her and curls an arm around her shoulders. “You look very nice tonight,” she tells her, winking and lightly tapping one of Zoroe’s snowflake earrings.
Zoroe feels herself start turning red again, but she’s determined this time to keep her cool. “Thank you. You look great as well.” She allows herself an appreciative look at her girlfriend’s appearance, especially appreciative of the sleeveless aspect of her sweater. “I love the antlers,” she adds with a soft laugh.
Kissare giggles with her, reaching up to adjust the antlers’ headband slightly. “Khaela picked ‘em out for me.” Kissare drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I think she’s a little biased for the horned look these days.”
Khaela glances over at the two of them, raising an eyebrow at Kissare’s innocent wave.
“These cookies are to die for, babe,” Kissare says to Zoroe, steering them away from Khaela’s suspicion. “You’ve come a long way.”
Zoroe preens, internally pumping her fist. “You’ve taught me well.”
The group falls into easy conversation, though occasionally Zoroe gets distracted by the fact that she hasn’t received a text back from her last guest. In fact, her messages still appear to be unread.
But finally, speak of the devil (literally), there’s a loud knock at the door. Zoroe excuses herself from the discussion and finishes her glass of sparkling grape juice before she heads for the door.
Calypso leans against the doorway and grins at Zoroe’s appearance. “Evenin’, square.”
“I’m glad you could make it, Calypso,” Zoroe greets, gesturing for her to come inside. “You are late, young lady,” she teases.
“Fashionably late.”
“Hardly. Look at you.” Zoroe points to Calypso’s sweater, black and red with a devilish face and text that reads “MERRY KRAMPUS.”
“No way, this shirt rules.”
Zoroe narrows her eyes, unconvinced. “Why didn’t you answer my texts?”
Calypso digs her phone out of her pocket, finally seeing the missed messages. “I was out. Walkin’ here.”
“You walked here?!”
“What? It’s not that far.”
Zoroe just gapes for a moment. Why hadn’t Calypso just called for someone to pick her up? She supposes it’s the same reason she hadn’t looked at her phone this whole time. “Calypso, it’s not even 30 degrees outside! Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”
“Ah, I don’t get cold,” Calypso scoffs.
Zoroe shakes her head. “I don’t believe you,” she mutters. “Where’s that scarf I made for you? It’s very warm.”
Calypso gives a big wave to everyone else, then gestures to Khaela. “Hey, fangs isn’t wearin’ a coat either.”
“Don’t change the— she isn’t!” Zoroe gasps. “Khaela, please— what’s with you two?”
“This jacket is pretty warm,” Khaela argues, though she looks a little guilty as she says it.
“Zoroe?” Cybil says. The naga tables her winter clothing lecture for another time and turns her attention to them. “Why have you hung up all this mistletoe? Being parasitic, it typically only grows alongside other plants.”
“Well, for one thing, they’re plastic. It’s a tradition, originating as a symbol of peace and fertility,” Zoroe explains, momentarily taking on the air of a professor. “If two people are under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”
Cybil hums thoughtfully at this answer. “I mean no offense, but I’m not sure I want to follow this tradition.”
“None taken.” Zoroe notices that Phosphorra’s eyes have gone wide as she looks around at all the mistletoe, a blush darkening her face. “No one has to kiss if they don’t want to,” she adds. “The last thing I want is for anyone to be uncomfortable. I just found the idea cute.”
Cybil nods. “Understood.” Phosphorra, for her part, seems to relax.
Meanwhile, Khaela follows Calypso into the dining room, tapping the tiefling’s shoulder as she pours a glass of champagne. Khaela tips her chin up toward the sprig of mistletoe above them. Calypso smirks, takes a sip, then leans up as Khaela leans down until they meet in the middle.
Kissare and Zoroe share a victorious glance.
“Man, ya broke out the fancy shit, square,” Calypso says as she returns to the living room. “I don’t think my bar even sells this kinda champagne.”
“Of course,” Zoroe says matter-of-factly. “This is a classy party, after all.”
“I’m not sure ‘classy’ and Calypso are things that really go together,” Phosphorra says.
“Wow,” Calypso laughs along with the others. “Been here for like five minutes and cake pop’s already roastin’ me.”
It is a pleasant evening, and Zoroe is hard pressed to remember the last time she had such a nice night with a group of people— with a group of friends. She feels content and fond, even as she confiscates a bundle of mistletoe that Calypso tied to her own tail to make sure the tiefling behaves.
“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Zoroe says, prompting everyone to look at her expectantly. “I’ve got gifts for all of you. Give me just a minute and I’ll bring them out.”
“Ooh!” Kissare says excitedly.
From a hallway closet Zoroe retrieves five boxes of varying sizes, all of them neatly gift wrapped. She wears a bright smile as she carries them out to the others, handing each gift to its respective recipient. “Go ahead and open them.”
Calypso gets into hers first, tearing apart the wrapping paper with gusto. She pops the lid off the box and grins at the crochet hellhound inside. “Ah, hell yeah,” she says, picking it up and taking a closer look. “You made this?”
“I did,” Zoroe answers proudly. “Khaela’s too.”
Khaela admires her own gift, a crochet tortoise whose design matches the tattoo on her wrist. “It’s so cute.” Her smile is wide, showing off her fangs. “I love it.”
Cybil sets the wrapping paper aside and lifts up a leather messenger bag. “Did you make this too?”
“No,” Zoroe says with a laugh. “I thought your bag was looking a bit... worn out, and figured you deserved a new one.” She knew that Cybil, being someone with a strong tendency for efficiency, might not have considered getting rid of their old bag simply because they use it all the time.
“Very nice of you.” They stand up and slip the bag onto their shoulder, adjusting the length so the bag itself rests near their waist. “Thank you.”
Phosphorra curiously flips through the pages of the novel from her box. On its front cover are shimmery, ghostly wisps forming the shapes of two faces beneath the title Wights Out. “Oh, this looks…” Phosphorra pauses, her eyes widening at some page in particular before closing the book, looking slightly flustered. “...like a… uh, great read. Thanks, Zoroe.”
Calypso gives a covert thumbs up to Zoroe.
“Oh, wow...” Kissare whispers, holding up a silver necklace. Its pendant was a series of small swirls forming a heart around a tiny garnet in its center.
“Do you like it?” Zoroe asks.
“I love it! It’s beautiful. Here, help me put it on.”
Zoroe moves behind Kissare and holds both ends of the chain around the back of her neck. She clips the ends together then goes to stand in front of Kissare. The necklace really is beautiful, almost as beautiful as the naga wearing it. Kissare strikes a few poses as if modeling the necklace, then pulls Zoroe in for a thank you kiss. They don’t linger for too long, for the sake of (Zoroe’s) modesty, but they’re both smiling as they pull apart.
“Hey, cake pop, what’s that book about?”
“Uh, ghosts...”
“Ghosts doin’ what?”
“You know, being… friends…”
Before Calypso can press further, a crumpled ball of wrapping paper bounces off her forehead. After a beat she turns to Khaela, who sits with her hands behind her head. “Fangs?”
“Yes, tinderbox?” Khaela says innocently. She has to shield her face from another wad of paper Calypso throws at her.
Zoroe opens her mouth to ask them to stop, but then Kissare gets a mischievous look in her eye, crumpling up the paper from her gift. She quirks up an eyebrow at Zoroe, who sighs and gestures for her to go ahead. Kissare launches the bundle of paper at Calypso, who shouts on impact. At first this battle is just between the three of them, but Calypso enlists Cybil by telling them it’s a customary party activity, and Phosphorra hesitantly joins in to help Khaela.
Despite this eruption of chaos at her self-proclaimed classy gathering, Zoroe finds she isn’t any less happy. A small smile remains on her face as she watches her closest people have a good time, elated that she helped bring them together.