[The vine's feed opens to Gavril sitting in the Plaza with a rather fancy looking bottle of while nestled under her arm. After looking over the glass vessel for a minute or so, the garden's resident ghoul makes a brief address to vine before her.]

So this is the queen's idea of a Christmas present, huh? I'm not gonna complain though, this is some pretty good booze. Back home I'd have to kill someone to get my hands on something like this. Either way, being drunk out of my mind seems like a pretty fucking good way to get through whatever shit the Queen has planned next.



( [Private to Zinc.] )

[Zinc is sitting before one of the large windows in her home, feet dangling from the upper mezzanine, looking out at the snow. The pale lighting makes her ashen skin all the more pallid. She is singing to herself quietly, it isn't a particularly pleasant sound, voice dry and cracked, ragged and out of tune. The vine is happy to translate what she is saying, and will probably have to do so,]

Tu brises mon coeur...

[She murmurs the little song to herself absentmindely, but gives up somewhere in the middle, lowering her chin to the railing across the edge, staring blankly out the window. Eventually, she gets around to saying something of her own, and even then there's no one else there for her to be speaking to. Does she even know the vine is there? She's not looked at it once, so far.]

Même si vous ne pouvez pas m'entendre. Il fait froid et tu me manques, salaud.

[[ooc; hover for those translations.]]