WOULD YOU SMOOCH A GHOST? / lunar festival: spin the bottle

[beck.]

    "Jeez, I didn't know y'all would wanna play," Beck giggled with a nervous lilt to his rasp, chilled paws squeezing the empty bottle tighter and forming a thin ring of frost on the glass as a cold flush burned his freckles. Considering the participants, the scrawny cat didn't want to actually kiss any of them; hell, he didn't want to kiss anyone at all. And based on multiple factors including but not limited to both a mutilated cheek, a frozen apparition, and other obvious reasons, he could bet that nobody wanted to return the favor. But he had a strategy in mind: go first to start the cycle, then squish himself between two people so he had the least probable chance of being landed on. He would be free to kick back and watch everyone else embarrass themselves afterwards. Of course, he needed to sacrifice himself first.

    After scanning over his options and holding back a grimace, Beck waiting for Iota's explanation to wrap up before setting the bottle down in the middle of them all. His first attempt to spin it around on top of mud was a failure, the glass scratching against a stray rock with an awful scraping noise. Second try, he swatted away the pebble and spun the bottle once more, this time successfully. As it whirled around, the poltergeist couldn't help but cover his eyes with his paws, dreading to see who it landed on. Yet he couldn't handle the suspense either -- opening one eye to peek through a splayed paw, his bloodless guts churned as the neck of the bottle slowed to a stop aimed right at chocolate-colored paws.

[member=1350]ARROW ![/member]
used this site to decide!

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Arrow watched the bottle spin, eyes widening in curiosity to see where and when it would stop. The first attempt at a spin made her snort, the sound of the scratch from the pebble and glass colliding was an irritating one. The suspense was the fun part, the action that followed up was nothing. And speaking of that action, the bottle picked her to smooch the ghost. Unlike poor Beck, dread was not what she was feeling, not at all.

"I am the chosen one." She joked, obviously amused at the reaction of their leader. This was definitely a little more awkward than if she'd been chosen for literally anyone else, even the big ol' reptile who was so curious about this game spreading disease. "Sorry, Beck." With a small apology in advance, she gently attempted a light smooch on Beck's good cheek.. Even though he was, you know, a ghost. Were there rules about playing this with ghosts? "You got lucky, sport. So who's spinning the bottle of doom now?" If it was her turn she technically already used it, since Beck was a chicken. Nah, that was mean. She wasn't gonna tease him.