DECEMBER 2020 EVENT - PART 2

[robbies]

CHAPTER ONE, PART 2: AND ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE

A creature was stirring.

As Christmas grows closer, look up to the skies
Your city is in for a winter surprise
Come enter the village and see all the change
And come face-to-face with the hostile and strange
From iced-over ponds to the workshop's display
There's snowmen and reindeer to complete the holiday
And just when you think that you're safe and you're sound
You open your door and see what's to be found....

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LET IT SNOW
(cw: sensations of drowning)

JINGLE BELLS
(cw: mind control)

UP ON THE HOUSETOP
(cw: death and decay, claustrophobia)

RUN, RUDOLPH, RUN
(cw: animal death and dismemberment, violence, death and decay, non-human cannibalism)

HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS

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LET IT SNOW

CW: sensations of drowning

As the gala winds down and you leave town hall to head home, there’s a bite in the air, chillier than it was when you went in earlier that day. The night sky is blanketed by clouds, which only grow heavier as night wears on. By midnight, the first few flakes of snow have begun to fall… and fall, and fall. As night becomes day and the snow keeps coming down heavier than ever, it becomes clear that Santa Rosita is experiencing an unusual snowstorm—maybe the town will get that white Christmas after all! But as the day passes, the storm shows no sign of stopping… in fact, it’s only getting worse.

Over the next week and a half, a blizzard beats down upon the town. Its effects seem to vary by the hour: Though the snow never quite stops, there are times when it falls soft and fluffy, and there are times when it falls so heavily and the wind blows so fiercely that it’s impossible to see more than a few inches ahead of you. You’re welcome to pay visits to your neighbors, of course; they might need help digging out their sidewalks or hauling cords of firewood inside—especially when the electricity goes out. Hopefully you’re not caught out and about when the weather takes a turn for the worse again!

Even inside your houses, you aren’t safe from the blizzard. The first time you open your door on December 16th, feeling the blast of cold air coming from it, you think you know what’s coming. After all, you’ve certainly had enough experience with being sent to the Christmas village in the first half of the month! You sigh, resigning yourself to the long walk home… but as you pass through the door, everything changes in a way it didn’t before. Your brain doesn’t know which way is up as you find yourself underwater, breath expelling in a rush of bubbles as the shocking cold penetrates your body. Somehow you’ve come through the door and ended up beneath the lake’s surface—but the layer of ice above you has thinned and can be easily broken through to regain your feet and drag yourself out of the water to shore.

But you’d better be quick. Take too long and you might feel something grabbing at your heels, trying to pull you back underwater and further into the lake.

Here in the village, the conditions are always bad. Visibility is poor between the wind and the snow, heavy and cold and wet, and you’re soaked to the skin from your recent plunge. Thankfully, there are towels in the small building that was once the skate exchange station, and there are plenty of now-abandoned buildings around the village where you can hunker down and try to warm up before heading home. Maybe it would be a good idea to leave a spare change of clothes behind...

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JINGLE BELLS

CW: mind control

If ending up in the village is bad in the middle of the day, it's even worse at night.

Beyond the freezing winds and the ice you're liable to lose your footing as you pull yourself out of the lake, it's dark as can be out here. Don’t bother looking for a Christmas star to guide you home; out here and this close to the forests, the stars and moon are blotted out by thick clouds and the snow that falls in clumps. Unfortunately, as experience has taught you by now, this is a one-way trip and the only way out is forward.

Of course, this is easier said than done. With its empty buildings and desolate pathways, the Christmas village is a husk of its former self. The cute cobblestone thoroughfares and craft stations that were filled with screaming children only a few days ago are barren and frozen over, as if left to rot in the cold. The other little faux gingerbread and peppermint stick houses aren't much better. At some point on the first day of the blizzard, the power was knocked out, plunging the village into a blackout you now have to navigate if you want to get home. All of the windows are crusted with ice, dark and empty.

Save for one.

As you walk by one particular building, a faint yellow and red glow begins to glimmer from the storefront. One by one, the tiny cottages in the miniature village diorama begin to flicker to life, gears clicking as the mechanisms start powering up. On a miniature turntable hidden behind the display, a needle drops onto a record and a tinny version of Jingle Bells begins to play. A tiny train chugs around the tracks surrounding the diorama and a wax figure of Mrs. Claus in her chair with her candy cane knitting needles rocks back and forth, and it occurs to you just what you're looking at: Santa's Workshop. There can be no mistaking it. Even in the middle of the night, you know exactly where you are.

Don't you?

The light grows, illuminating the entire storefront and spilling out onto the street. You can see everything now. The little elf figure hammering at his workbench, the one next to him sawing at a board of wood, the two balancing on a seesaw as the toy train circles beneath them. Once you take notice of it, it's impossible to look away. The light pulls you in, glowing brighter yet turning darker. Slowly, it turns from angelic, warm gold to blood red.

As strange as this is, this is the best you've felt all week. A tipsy smile at your lips, you watch the light shift into a pretty shade of red as the snow continues to fall around you. In an abstract way, you know this isn't really where you're supposed to be, but it feels so good anyway. Your home (and not your home in Shadyside, your real home), all the bad stuff that worries you and stresses you out—it all dissolves into sugar.

Dreamily, you stare off into space as the song inside the store begins to warp and deepen. Gosh, you can't remember the last time you've felt this nice. You can't remember much of anything at all, like what you were doing earlier today or how you got here to begin with.

But you do know that it's Christmas. And if there's one place everyone should celebrate Christmas in, it's Santa Rosita. Your home.

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UP ON THE HOUSETOP

CW: death and decay, claustrophobia

It's true what they say about wintertime being the cruelest time. Even in Santa Rosita, that sentiment holds true in spite of the otherwise celebratory and comfy atmosphere throughout town. For every sweet smell trickling out of your and your neighbors' houses, a sharp and cold burst of wind follows. The weather is mostly manageable during the daytime hours, but at night it's a different story. The wind can be ferocious, whistling through the naked trees with enough force to send them swaying. If the cold doesn't keep you awake, the sound of branches tapping against your windows will.

When you wake up in the morning, you'll find a new friend waiting for you outside. Sitting in the front of your yard, positioned between the mailbox and the driveway, is a snowman. Its fingers are thin and twiggy, and the branches they're connected to are arched and spread like wings stripped to the bone. Compared to all the other snowmen you've likely passed by throughout Shadyside, there's nothing particularly unique about it, save for its lumpy build and featureless face.

The snowman is still there by the time you return from school or class. This time, however, it's invited another friend: another identical snowman, this one in a different spot in the yard.

So it goes for the next several days. Every time you enter your house or go to sleep, a new snowman is waiting for you in your yard. Their placement has no rhyme or reason: sometimes you'll find one in the back of the yard, other times in a corner off to the side. Sometimes they'll be spread out. Other times—usually when you turn around or go back inside the house—they'll be clustered together in a group, facing the front window.

Eventually, there gets to be so many of them that it becomes difficult to leave the house. Inevitably, whether it be blocking your car, the driveway, or even your front door, you'll wind up dismantling one sooner or later. And when you do, you'll find more than just snow spilling out onto your feet.

Staring back at you, whether from behind the layers of snow you've knocked off the head or up from the ground, is a Robbie, still dressed in their red and green elf uniform from the Christmas village. His—or her—glassy eyes are fixed in a thousand yard stare, mouth stretched in a grinning rictus on their blue face. Within each snowman is a similar one, all of them dressed the same, all of them very much dead, all of them smiling the same mindless smiles they had when they were alive.

With any luck, you’ll wind up taking the snowmen apart by hand instead of finding out the hard way by running one over with your car.

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RUN, RUDOLPH, RUN

CW: animal death and dismemberment, violence, death and decay, non-human cannibalism

Red and white is just as lovely a Christmas combination of colors as red and green, don’t you think? White snow and red pools spread all throughout the little village. Starting on December 16th, you might be first to notice some—or perhaps you’re the unlucky one that falls against a snowbank only to discover, once you put your hands down, that the fresh fallen snow is covering something. Something wet and meaty.

Another shows up the next day. And the next. And there’s not always enough snow to fully cover the carcasses that litter the village and its outskirts. Clustered by the reindeer racing courses children clapped and cheered for are what's left of the reindeer. They've been hunted, but not with knives or bows or guns. Chunks of flesh have been ripped off their bones and ribs are cracked where massive force has been applied, eyes white and milky—if they haven’t been plucked out. Some of the beasts are still alive and huddling in their stables, balking when the doors are open or bolting, as fast as their long strides can take them, out toward the Old Growth. Careful you don’t get in their way!

By the 18th, none of the reindeer are alive inside the stables. There aren’t enough corpses to account for the whole herd you’d seen before (bored and spoiled, wreaths around their necks). But if you follow the sounds of crunching, the wet and sticky humidity of breath, and the smell that rises up and above the dung and rot of desiccated corpses—

There, hunched over a kill, is a thing with just as many bones visible as mangy flesh upon its back. And when its head turns round, there are fangs in its mouth and claws on five-fingered paws, and both are stained deep scarlet—there are antlers bleached as white as snow—and its red eyes are socket-deep, dilated, and suddenly fixed on you.

Let’s hope you can run on ice and snow!

The creatures are looking for more food now that the reindeer have all been hunted down. Lingering in the village, slow and sluggish on all fours unless they rise to two broad feet and sniff the air, they are massive beasts. Not men, not deer, not Christmas cheer, that’s for darn sure. Unless a human happens by, they will stay in their place—the village, far from town square and blizzard-covered Main Street. If they catch sight of someone, they will pursue them with surprising speed to the ends of the earth-—or at least right up to your front door or until you manage to lose them. They’ll search long and hard, sniffing with their skeletal snouts on hand and far-too-human knee, before giving up and heading back toward their village home. Unless someone else crosses paths with them, that is.

The lights on homes and fires burning in hearths seem to deter them... unlike silver, salt, or sharpened knives (unless they are made of iron or steel), which just bring the deer rearing up onto their back legs to tower up and over you, antlers blotting out the wintry sun, ribs bulging beneath their thin and ripping skin. The cold doesn’t bother them despite their hunger—aren’t reindeer native to the arctic? Perhaps that explains why ice has no effect and they appear from the blizzard as if it was as harmless as a hearty breeze. All the speech you ever can hear is the hunting cry they make—the full body bellow of a thing in pain and rage and determined to survive at your expense.

Unless you can outrun them.

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HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS

At midnight, December 25th, everything stops.

Peek out your window and there is only peaceful, picture-perfect snow. No blizzards and no blackouts. No stalking deer, no bodies and no snowmen, save the ones that the Anderson children put up on Midwich Street. The Christmas village is gone—no teleporting doors, no lights, no reindeer (at least that you can see or find)—as if it had never been there at all. Only lightly falling snow and cars in the driveway, families at home just as they ought to be—eating cookies, drinking milk, opening the presents spilling out from under the tree. Santa has been generous this year!

And don’t think he’s forgotten you, either!

For those of you who wrote Santa a letter, a box will be waiting on your front doorstep. Try as you might, you can’t find any footprints in the snow, and you certainly didn’t hear any knock on the door or ringing of the bell. It’s addressed specifically for you, along with a little note written in someone’s (very best attempt at) cursive:

I’m sorry if you got hurt
Please don’t be mad
Merry Christmas

P.S. I tried my best to get you what you asked for

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OOC INFO

Happy holidays and welcome to part two of our December event! As always, feel free to top-level for this event, tag around, or utilize our network and log communities for your snowy-spooky posts.

As with part one of the event, mod-controlled NPCs will not be available for this event. You are, however, free to use the Santa Rosita Police Department and Robbies as player-controlled NPCs if you feel they are appropriate for your threads. Need more information? Direct your attention over to our NPC page for the most up-to-date info on your fellow townspeople.

Regular teleporting to the village still happens; the lake is now just an added destination. If you still would like your character to appear in the village but wish to avoid the lake prompt, doors still will randomly teleport you to the village as they did in the first half of the month. Each prompt with peril only can result in death to your character if that is how you would prefer the thread to go. Remember: just because a monster is chasing you or you teleport into the lake doesn’t mean there isn’t a place around for them to hide and get warm! For this event we don’t want people to feel forced to kill their characters. Consider built-in survival options as a gift from mods to players this time... except for the monster in the lake.

Well, we wouldn't say monster, but you didn't think you were the only ones in town with a home, did you?

Whatever's living in the lake can be staggered and caught off-guard, so fighting back against it if it catches you is possible—possible, but not a good idea. You'll never get a thorough enough look to even know what it is you're fighting.

Characters who end up getting caught by it will only have one chance to fight it off long enough to escape and swim to safety. While you can technically stick around in the lake and attempt to search, you do so at your own peril. Staying for any longer than you have to or trying to seek whatever-it-is out will be a death sentence for your character. Please remember to report all deaths and crimes that would be worthy of Tranquilization on their appropriate page here.

Any questions can go in our FAQ thread below. Try to check and see if your question has already been answered on the plotting thread first here.

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Comments

[handycapable]

▓███ let it snow

[ It isn't the first blizzard Ray's ever experienced, of course, although it certainly surprises him nonetheless, given that he never imagined California (even further north) even could get snowstorms. Watching the way the snow comes down weirdly makes Ray grateful that, if he had to be married to a woman again, it's someone like Ellie, who's got a similar instinct as him when it comes to practical survival skills. Ray may not have grown up in an apocalypse, but...

Anyway, not knowing what more to expect from this place, the two of them had luckily thought to stock up on a few essentials earlier in the month, food and blankets and batteries, gas cans, flashlights -- winter essentials, really, as far as Ray's concerned, because he's never not lived somewhere that didn't get cold enough to snow you in or knock out the power -- so if he happens to see anyone outside caught up in the storm from his window, Ray may well invite them in to warm up and wait until the snowfall ebbs enough for them to make it all the way to their own home. ]

▓███ jingle bells | dec 20-26th*

[ As far as the lake goes, well, it is unpleasant, but Ray can't help but be briefly thankful in the moment to have an unfeeling wooden hand strapped around his arm perfect for breaking through the ice with, although it isn't enough. The freezing water is making his body lock up, his legs entirely, disturbingly, familiarly numb, so he nearly goes under a few times before managing to drag himself out and lay on the shore like a limp pile of rags until some of the feeling returns to his extremities. He has no idea how he'll get home like this, but rather than worry about that, Ray focuses first just on getting to his feet, making his legs move even if it's with an icy stiffness that makes them feel as if they're filled with broken glass rather than bones.

It's a no-brainer that he heads right to Santa's Workshop as soon as he sees the lights are on, not knowing exactly what he'll find there (dry clothes? a warm drink? someone to give him a ride home?) but knowing he won't last like this outside for much longer. Then...

Ray feels great, actually, mind bright and pain forgotten. A lot of things forgotten, really-- even getting home from the Christmas Village feels like a blur, but not in an unpleasant way. It all worked out, after all, and anyway, it's Christmas! Who can stay upset during this time of year?

The next day or so (next few days, really) will be a bit of a blur as well, Ray making the most of his Christmas spirit. He finally gets a job down at the department store -- he needed one anyway, but also hello, money for gifts? and perhaps food for a dinner party? -- where maybe you'll see him alternating between the makeup and men's cologne counters on the days the store's able to stay open, rarely without a scarf around his neck and wearing one of several holiday sweaters, or he'll be at home decorating, baking, and gift wrapping. Are you a neighbor? Stop on by for shelter during the storm, and maybe you'll get to leave with a tupperware full of fresh Christmas cookies too. ]

( *ooc | assume the Robbification can be applied to/during any of the prompts, as appropriate; it won't be affecting Ray for the entire event, hence the listed dates, so if you have a preference for before/during/after please specify! )

▓███ merry little christmas

[ Seemingly immune to the holiday stress (not to mention stress of any other kind), on Christmas morning Ray is pleasantly surprised by his gift rather than disappointed, putting it up on a shelf like it's some bizarrely charming tchotchke, before he steps outside into the newly fallen peace and quiet, waving and saying hello to any passing neighbors (or customers, if he's at work, merrily spritzing people with Vetiver 1961) as if nothing devastating has been going on the past couple of weeks at all. ]

Good morning! Merry Christmas! [ At work, with a bright, perky Stepford smile: ] Let me tell y'all about our after-holiday sales!

[ Or, if it's after the 26th... the difference in his mood will be apparent, probably like night and day, crabby like he's nursing the world's worst hangover no matter where he is. Almost by reflex when spoken to, he's likely to snap: ]

Oh, fuck off. Do not even start with me about which one of us had a shittier Christmas.

wildcard, reindeer. cw animal corpses, references to death and suicidal ideation

[petsthedog]

[The random teleportations to the Christmas village were already old the first time they happened, but as annoying as they are, Shinjiro's all but gotten used to them by now. He's more cautious about doors, being sure to be fully dressed even when walking around in his own home, but there's no real way to be prepared for what awaits him on this particular trip over; he lands in a snowbank, and nearly trips over a butchered reindeer corpse. It's not difficult to assume a wild animal of some sort got to it, though, so despite the somewhat gruesome sight, he's not particularly concerned at first.

Except there's more. Too many of them to be a simple unfortunate result of a predator wandering into the village or a reindeer or two getting loose. Foolishly, he ends up following the trail, figuring he needs to head back that way to Shadyside anyway. It's a mistake.

The massive thing spots him, and he runs, with no weapon available to protect himself--he keeps running until he loses his footing in the snow and falls down, crawling backward only to find his back hitting a wall. So that's it, then, huh? Not exactly how he was expecting this strange suburbanite fever dream to end, but it's already gone on longer than he'd thought. There's a part of him that's never been entirely convinced this wasn't some sort of elaborate dying hallucination, and a morbid part of him thinks maybe this means he's lost enough blood that his heart is finally shutting down. It'd make sense. The thought calms him, somehow, and his shoulders ease, letting out a breath as he waits--but then he spots someone.

An older man appears in his line of vision, and to his horror he realizes he recognizes the man. The monster halts at the sound, turning its head in Ray's direction, and Shinjiro's eyes widen sharply. He yells out--]

Ray! Get out of here, run!

[But even as he says it, he remembers the man's limp from the last time they'd met, realizes there's no way Ray could outrun this thing. He has nothing to use as a weapon and he can no longer reach his Persona, which he might register as bitterly ironic if he was really particularly aware of his own thoughts in the following moments. Before he knows it, he's moved, tackling the creature to buy the other man time.]

[handycapable]

[ Even before Ray hears his name being shouted, Ray can hear the thundering of approaching feet, can feel it vibrating the ground even through the patchy numbness of his braced up legs, making him turn sharply in a way that once would have been graceful but right now is stiff and ungainly.

He swears under his breath, words hissing out from between his teeth like steam, but when the kid -- Ray will remember his name again in a moment when his body and mind aren't a tense coil of reactionary -- throws himself at the beast and stalls it briefly in its tracks, Ray moves aside to brace himself against a tree, hefting the enormous branch he's been using as a cane up against his shoulder to swing it club-like against the creature's head while it's distracted. ]

You run!

[ God, Ray wishes he had a shotgun right about now. Not that he'd be able to aim and fire it so easily with one hand, but still... better than fucking bare hands and a branch.

Still, when the beast lowers its head Ray grabs hold of its antlers with his good hand, trying to either keep it disoriented or maybe snap the things off and (hopefully) convince it to retreat. He's dealt with plenty of normal deer before, but he has no idea what the hell this thing is.

It shakes his head, trying to throw him, nearly threatening to spill the contents of his pockets -- lighter and a pack of smokes -- out into the snow, but Ray lets go of the antlers to protectively grab at his belongings, landing in a snowdrift with a powderdy flump. ]

Shit--

[petsthedog]

[Shinjiro makes a distressed sound when Ray doesn't immediately turn and run. He's still hanging off the creature's back when the older man comes at the thing with a branch, and he shouts back as Ray grabs its antlers.]

Are you out of your mind?? You're gonna get killed!

[Which, apparently, was not a concern when he straight up tackled the damn thing, but shut up. It doesn't matter if he dies. He shouldn't be here in the first place.]

Hurry--

[Shit. Shit, it just threw him. Can he actually get up with the ground under them as soft as it is? He lets go of the creature himself, scrambling to get over to the older man and offering him a hand.]

jingle bells! cw for drownin

[undiagnosed]

[it's either incredibly unlucky or incredibly lucky for archer to be teleported into the lake just after ray gets out of it. he's as shocked as anyone else, losing his cane down into the dark depths and kicking, trying to get up to what looks like a hole in the ice. he can barely see anything and this is just like cecil's stupid undersea lab and veronica shooting him-- he's already swallowed a bunch of disgusting water before he manages to burst up to the surface, grabbing the broken ice that just breaks under his grip.

doesn't help that he was at home, just in a dressing gown and his underwear and for fuck's sake he's going to die in a lake in fucking california. that's-- oof, that one stings almost as much as the cold water.

he's just about got his head above water long enough to see ray, though his hands are bleeding from his multiple attempts to grab at the ice and he keeps swallowing the water--] Ray! You fucking-- help me, assdouche!

[handycapable]

[ Ray is still on the shore, hacking up frigid water and rubbing himself all over with his one good hand just to keep his limbs and joints from locking up completely, when he hears Archer's voice-- at first he thinks he's imagining it, ears still ringing from going from the freezing lake right into the equally freezing air, but then he sees him there, thrashing around in the broken ice. ]

Hang on!

[ He shouts back over the wind and distance, looking around for a way to reach Archer that won't drag Ray back in there with him. Biting at his lip, Ray grabs a tree branch to anchor himself to shore, leaning his knee back out onto the ice (it's already gone almost entirely numb anyway) and reaching for Archer with his prosthetic hand. ]

C'mon, grab it and I'll pull you out!

[undiagnosed]

[he grabs at ray's wooden hand, yanking him forward as he scrabbles out the water, putting his other hand on ray's upper arm and leaving big smears of blood either way. archer's really giving it his all as he pulls himself up, almost to the point of having enough adrenaline induced strength to pull poor ray back into the water. it's clear from his expression - somehow both distant and detached but stuck in the moment and panicking at the same time - that he's not really thinking clearly. maybe it's the cold, maybe he's mentally back in sealab or veronica deane's pool.

it's with some effort he manages to get up onto the ice where he shoves ray back as he crawls forward, shaking the excess water off his dressing gown like a dog. hyperventilating, he takes a few moments to noisily vomit up a load of water, then looks at ray, eyes wild and unfocused.

it's archer, though, so he has to ruin this brave rescue somehow. he staggers to his feet, his bad leg not taking any weight and bent in awkwardly... then swings a punch right at ray's face.]

[handycapable]

[ Grinding his teeth with effort, Ray hangs on to the best of his ability, using his -- thankfully not insignificant -- upper body strength to keep his grip from slipping even briefly. If it did, they'd both be in the water, and then they'd both surely proceed to drown or freeze to death shortly thereafter.

And finally Archer's out. Ray falls back, clothes soaked and now covered in blood as well as snow, but he barely notices, slowly using the tree to help pull himself to his feet as he watches Archer with alarm. ]

Archer, are you-- [ Suddenly, a blow to his jaw. ] Hey, what th--!

[ Ray barely has time to react before Archer's awkwardly launching himself in attack, and since Ray can hardly stand up on his legs either he simply falls back into the snow, grabbing Archer by the hair on his way down. ]

Stop it! Goddammit Archer, cut it out!

cw emeto

[undiagnosed]

[not expecting ray to grab his hair, archer gets yanked down ontop of him with a yelp, then immediately rolls off him and pukes up more water as well as... whatever it is he ate earlier. seems this was enough to pull archer out of whatever he was doing-- he sits up on his knees, shakes his head then stands up proper, though still awkwardly.]

Oh. [he grimaces, leaning down to brush compacted snow off his knees.] I can't feel my... anything. That can't be good. Why the hell are we out here?

wildcard bitch; 12/19

[demonicmiracle]

[The blizzard and the awful fucking lake and the randomly appearing snowman are starting to get on Crowley's nerves, and there's only so much annoyed pacing around the house he can do before Aziraphale got short with him, so he's invited himself over to Ray's for a drink.

At least he has a car, even if it's a horrible American station wagon that handles nothing like the Bentley, but at least he doesn't have to drive in the snow.

He's not expecting to see one of the snowman right in the middle of Ray's driveway, but rather than slam on the breaks, he keeps pulling in, figuring this can at least get rid of one. The dull thunk is the immediate signal that something is wrong, and that's when Crowley stops the car, hurriedly climbing out to see what the hell he hit.

Thirty seconds later, he's knocking on Ray's door, jaw clenched in annoyance.]

Gillette! You might wanna get out here!

[handycapable]

[ The snowstorm is certainly the least inconvenient of all the sudden inconveniences happening over the past week, if only because Ray's lived through plenty of blizzards before and his home is certainly well-stocked enough for it not to be too miserable to weather through, but that doesn't mean company -- and alcohol -- can't still vastly improve the experience. He's in fact just beginning to pour himself a drink from the bar cart when he hears something outside, and then loud, aggressive knocking on the door.

Ugh, what now?

He tightens his robe around him to brace against the rush of cold once he opens the door, looking both confused and vaguely annoyed himself once he does. ]

What is it?! Is something the-- [ But then his eyes go to Crowley's car, parked very bizarrely in the driveway, and then to... ] Uh, what the Hell happened out here?

[demonicmiracle]

First off, it wasn't my fault.

[Crowley says it immediately, with the tone of someone who's used to being accused of shit he didn't do, although he sounds more disgruntled than worried about it.]

It was, uh — there was a body, in the snowman. Seems it's been there a while.

[handycapable]

[ Ray crosses his arms, looking from Crowley to the driveway, then back to the Crowley, sighing heavily as he sits to put his leg braces on so he can step outside. ]

Well I sure hope you're not suggestin' that I put it there. Who would even--

[ It's a stupid, time-consuming effort to make when you could just hide a body in a snow drift instead, which there are certainly plenty of during this impromptu blizzard.

Ray walks over to it, nose wrinkled slightly, hand over his mouth in disgust. Hardly the first corpse Ray has ever seen, obviously, but he still doesn't like being caught off-guard by them... and on his own property, seriously? ]

Jesus! [ He gestures outwardly, like look at this mess! ] And it was just sitting there?

[demonicmiracle]

[Now that he's revealed the situation to Ray and has been absolved of blame, Crowley is more than fine to just like, chill in the doorway while Ray does his thing.]

No, I don't think you put a corpse in a snowman.

[Like, c'mon Ray, he's not stupid.]

Mmhmm. [He follows after Ray, nudging the body with his boot, as if there's any possible chance it might still be alive. The rictus smile is... unsettling.] Embarrassing way to go, dressed up in an elf costume and shoved into a snowman.

[The primary concern here, obviously.]

Jingle Bells, Robbiefication!

[righthandstand]

[It's that one neighbor, the one that looks like he was a rich dude in his past life. Okuyasu hasn't had a reason to reach out to his neighbors unless necessary, because why did he have to?

And then the creepy snowmen showed up. And then Okuyasu heard of the undead reindeer hanging out. And now going to school is an exercise in dealing with the terror that he could die and not do anything about it.

He really wants his Stand back.

The thought pounds through his head when he walks home from school and wonders if those creepy reindeer are nearby. Is that dark shadow in his yard one of those monsters?

...Yeah, he's pretty sure no one is home and he does NOT want to be alone. The guy here's one of the people that know this town is weird and the light's open, and it's the neighborly thing to let in someone who is worried about dead people in snowmen and zombie animals. Okuyasu runs up to the front door and pounds on it.]

[handycapable]

[ Ray would normally be pleased to know that anyone might see him and think he looked rich (he certainly aims for a genteel, well-off sort of image), except that right now, of course, he's not in any position to care much about these sorts of things; it all is what it is, the only thing real to him at the moment being the life he's currently in the middle of, rather than any he may have left behind in a whole different universe.

Because that's just silly. Santa Rosita is his home.

He hears the frantic knocking at the door and pauses what he's doing -- making dinner? Yes, probably -- to answer the door, smiling broadly at his guest like the interruption is a totally normal and welcome surprise. ]

Oh, hello! Come on in, let's get you away from all this snow. [ He moves out of the way, looking out at the falling snow. ] Boy, it's sure been comin' down out there, huh?

[righthandstand]

[Okuyasu has better things to do than chat with someone in the snow when zombies or dead elves could pop out from behind the corner at any second. He barrels into Ray's house, safety be damned, but he does remember some basic courtesy.]

Sorry for the intrusion.

[He turns around in time to slam the door shut and - certain that nothing can see him here - kicks off his shoes to settle in.]

It was gettin' too much for me to handle without that other guy at my house. [He mean his supposed father.]

[handycapable]

Not at all! Why don't you have a seat and warm up? Oh, and there's plenty of cocoa in the kitchen.

[ Ray doesn't bat an eye at Okuyasu's urgency or frantic energy, just hums pleasantly as he moves the boy's shoes off to the side so they won't drip too much on the wood floor.

He locks the door and draws the curtain, then turns to regard his new house guest with curiosity. ]

What d'you mean? Are you in some kind of trouble, young man?

let it snow

[monomachy]

[Blizzards aren't as novel to Diana as they were a hundred years ago. She'd made it through some of the worst storms of the 20th century, so when the snow had started to fall here in Santa Rosita, she'd felt no real concern over surviving whatever inclement weather was on the way. However, the last time she was out in a blizzard, she'd also had the full range of her abilities to rely upon. Now, the cold sets in far faster than she thinks it rightly should, and by the time she's on her way back to her house from delivering a few supplies to neighbors, she's finding it a little hard to move, and the snow has started coming down in fat flakes that have begun to pile up.

That leaves her utterly grateful when someone she's seen around town and at the gala event lets her thaw out in his home. She pulls down the hood of her woolen coat, sending a cascade of snow to the entranceway floor. Somehow, despite now being mortal and nearly frozen to the bone, she still manages to avoid having hat hair.]

Gods, I didn't expect it to get so bad so fast. [She flexes her fingers, trying to get feeling back in them. She flashes him a smile, genuine and warm despite the cold.] Thank you for coming to my rescue.

[handycapable]

[ That's really the worst of it, in Ray's opinion: not just the fact they're stuck here, but that they're stuck here having been stripped of so many of their innate strengths and abilities to function. It's unsettling, and stressful, and Ray really doesn't appreciate how helpless it makes him feel.

But this part, at least, is easy. The house is well-stocked, and inside where it's warm his own physical limitations don't seem quite as pronounced as they would if he was stuck outside in the snow himself, one-armed and limping stiffly on his troublesome legs.

He peers out the door briefly behind her before shutting it, shivering a little from the rush of cold air that follows her in. ]

Right? It's a damn mess out there-- I didn't even know they got snow like this in California. Oh, here, let me take your coat... and why don't you have a seat? I'll go make us some hot tea.

[monomachy]

[Once her fingers start moving without pins-and-needles again, she starts working on the buttons of her coat. Keeping it on is likely to freeze her faster than taking it off, especially considering the unhealthy layer of snow and ice that had started to form on it before she'd made it inside. She nods in gratitude when he takes it, rolling her shoulders to aid in regaining some circulation. A moment later, she's toeing off her shoes so she can work on getting her feet back in working order.

She's sure she makes quite a sight, flexing her fingers and toes there in the foyer, but all she can think about is how honestly difficult it's been to actually be mortal as opposed to simply acting that way.]

Only in the northern parts. And thank you, I think that's exactly what I need.

[And she makes her way to the kitchen along with him; luckily, all the houses seem to be set up similarly, so she doesn't get lost. Diana takes a seat at the table, rubbing her hands on the skirt of her dress to help warm them.]

I think I've seen you around the community. I'm Diana--I live on Midwich Street.

@ the men's cologne counter, post-robbie

[bibliophilicbells]

[Aziraphale chalks it up, maybe, to Ray not really bothering to look at who's approached him at the counter with a terse and hesitant little hello. And he understands, sort of; he wouldn't want company, either, in the wake of... whatever that was.

But that's too bad, because he's here whether Ray likes it or not.

He wrinkles his nose, presses on. They like each other, right? They're kind of friends? So this is fine.]

Raymond.

[handycapable]

[ Ray definitely didn't look too closely at who just approached before snapping at him -- though granted, it's good it is someone he knows and not, say, a stranger who might get him fired -- but then, after a brief and stressed knead of his temple, he glances up and then stands straight with somewhat alarmed embarrassment. ]

Oh--! Hi, Avery. Sorry, I didn't, um, see you there. [ He smiles uneasily, holding up a cologne bottle. ] Can I interest you in a sample?

[bibliophilicbells]

[Aziraphale holds up a hand, indicating he'll pass for now.

His expression is a little odd — like he's not sure what he's feeling, either. It shifts rapidly between a judgmental kind of unhappy, to a soft understanding, then back, then to something like anger-but-not-quite. And the latter is more at... the situation in general, this place in general. Not so much at Ray.

But. Still.]

Thank you for the lamp.

[handycapable]

[ Ray winces a little, putting the bottle down and waiting for whatever is coming. He can imagine what this might be about, but that doesn't make it any more pleasant to confront again. ]

Of course, happy to do it. Merry belated Christmas. [ He clears his throat a bit awkwardly. ] Look, I haven't been exactly myself lately, so, if this is about... y'know, like, we don't actually have to talk about it.