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Entry tags:
- !event,
- archer: ray gillette,
- archer: sterling archer,
- attack on titan: erwin smith,
- attack on titan: levi ackerman,
- dceu: diana prince,
- fate/grand order: kiara sessyoin,
- fate/grand order: leonardo da vinci,
- ffxiv: takame kesi,
- good omens: aziraphale,
- good omens: crowley,
- jjba: okuyasu nijimura,
- kipo: kipo oak,
- original character: daylight vis lornlit,
- persona 4: shinjiro aragaki,
- tangled: cassandra,
- tangled: rapunzel,
- the last of us: ellie,
- the untamed: huaisang nie,
- undertale: papyrus,
- undertale: sans
DECEMBER 2020 EVENT - PART 2
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....
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
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
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:
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.
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.
no subject
[The first snowman is met with abject confusion. Naturally right as Cass is taking out some trash in the morning. A very quick conversation clears up that neither she nor Erwin are responsible for it, but that just raises further questions that are, momentarily, chalked up to some kind of prank.
Then another turns up. And another. A couple days later, and Cass finds herself glancing out a window to see a small congregation of misshapen snowpeople clogging the front yard.
It's... stifling. Cassandra wasn't even the sort to feel boxed in, but this 'prank' was becoming more and more unnerving by the second. Until it's... finally too much. Fine. She is mustered out of her hiding spot, and pulled out the front door to meet with her inanimate opponents.
With a snow shovel, of course.]
Enough is enough.
[With a deft twirl of the shovel in her hand, a crude if efficient weapon for what she was planning to do, she acted. Just a good strike, that was all she wanted. Knock a snowman over, obliterate some snow and ice. That's all.
So imagine her surprise when she strikes something far more solid than snow. It's hard enough that she flinches back, yet the snowman topples over, snow spilling away to reveal the rictus grin of a robbie, unmoving on the ground. Red seeps from the side of his head, staining the snow. Blood.
The shovel is most definitely dropped. Cass's hands suddenly forgetting how to hold it. For a moment, she forgets how to do most of anything.]
What-?!
[B; locked to Rapunzel and Archer]
[Things do not get better from there.
The cold that grips Santa Rosita by the teeth is not letting up by any means, and neither are the supernatural happenings. The doorways to the Christmas village are still open, leading to a place that looks even worse than the "real" world does. For now.
It's little wonder that there's immediately trouble. Bless whatever strings of fate that drew Cass into the village and down to the lake... and whatever got her and Raps through a door and back into the suburbs just as quickly. From there it was a coin flip.
Archer won, and he just needs to claim his prize; it's drenched in ice-cold water, and held tightly in Cassandra's arms, all while she's doing her best to kick Archer's front door in.]
L-let us in. [Cass's teeth chatter, her lips a dark blue. But she's not the worst looking one.] Now.
[C; Run Rudolph run]
[As soon as the snow started it drew up some... unfavorable images in Cassandra's mind. Images of Corona, blanketed in the same harshly falling snow, no end in sight even when you could see beyond your nose. It's a grim reminder that if the blizzard doesn't let up eventually, they'll all be buried. No, she did not come this far to die like this.
She can't stay put. For whatever reason, to check for supplies or people left behind, Cassandra ventures back into the village.
Stepping around snowdrifts and poking at what remained of the reindeer she'd seen racing around this place, Cass at least came armed this time; a baseball bat clutched in hand. Not her favorite weapon but the kitchen knife in her boot would be far better in close encounters.
Which is what happens as she tracks a trail of fresh viscera to it's source. Coming many footsteps short as the sight, and the smell, of the thing desecrating one of the reindeers hits Cass in full force.
For a moment, Cass is winded. She steps back. Something crunches underfoot. The thing looks at her. She starts running.
The wind lashes at her face, taunting her with its howling laughter in her ears, though that could have also been the beast on her tail. Every footfall of it muffled through the snow but clear enough - It is behind her, and gaining.
Maybe you've ventured out to the village, or maybe you're just on your way back to town. In either case, you may spot Cassandra, madly scrambling away from some kind of monster that's clearly gunning for her. She could definitely use an escape or, if you're brave enough, some assistance.]
[D; Wildcard]
[got something you want to do with me that doesn't match any of these prompts? Put it here!]
thinking b
ugh, but all they have are those shitty artificially scented ones from the store, so the whole place smells like plastic-y spices and--]
Jesus, Stallone, will you calm down? It's not... [it takes him a moment to get to the door (after his own dunk he's been a little stiff from the frantic kicking and pushing himself way too hard to get back) where he immediately steps to the side for cass to get in. doesn't take a genius to work out what's happened here.] Shit! Main room. Now!
[thank fuck he's had basic training on how to deal with this sort of thing, not to mention falling into icy water's happened to either him or one of the agents he's been on a mission with a good amount of times in the past. god, their agency sucks.]
There's blankets by the couch. Get her wet clothes off and watch her breathing. Does she have any open wounds?
no subject
[There's no anger in her tone, just worry. The moment they're inside it's down to business; Cassandra wastes no time in bringing Rapunzel over to the couch and starts working away at her top layers. Jacket, sweater, they're both going. All the while, with a soft tone,]
Just stay with me, Raps. Just stay awake...
[Of course, even just looking at her now suddenly sets feelings aflame in Cass's chest.]
I found her under the ice in the village.
no subject
I d.... I d-d-didn't think it was weird at f-first. [It's very hard to talk with how her teeth are chattering, but the warmth of the house is helping calm her shaking down just a bit.] It w-w-was just like all the other t-times.... g-going into the village...
no subject
You should've taken her to the hospital, [he says irritably.] if she's aspirated the water she'll get pneumonia.
[he dumps a load more blankets next to cassandra so she can get them on rapunzel, leaving the room again to get himself a strong drink and start boiling some water.
calling through:] Take her there when she's dry, Linda Hazzard. God, at least this won't cost too much.
no subject
And yet... She knows he's right. She should have brought Rapunzel to the hospital, just look at her.]
...You've seen what's happening out there. The things in the woods, the bodies in the snowmen... If It take her to the hospital...
[Her voice drifts away, quiet enough that Archer wouldn't be able to hear. Partly because she's still working through Rapunzel's layers - not all of them are going, but enough. And then Raps is getting wrapped up in some blankets.]
I'll find you some dry clothes. Just... keep talking.
[Is all she can say before hurrying off to the bedroom, or a vague direction. Can't be too hard to find.]
no subject
[The fluctuating storm had made exploring and even just going outside dangerous on its own, so Rapunzel's been cooped up for most of the day prior to her sudden "trip". She's mostly been about town, outside of the initial range of the creatures, so it's only the horrible snowmen she's been passing that seems off.]
I-Is everything... is e-everyone ok-kay??
[Figures. Even when she herself is suffering, Rapunzel is thinking of others.]
no subject
[he comes back through with a mug of tea, bag still in and shoves it at cassandra to give to rapunzel, taking a long drink out of his flask in the meantime.]
Leave the doors open. Last thing we goddamn need is to end up under the ice again.
[a concept which makes archer blanche slightly. he's got a terrible feeling everyone in this room might struggle to survive another dunk.]
a, meet your new Robbie husband
[Erwin heard the commotion from outside, and has wandered out to investigate. If Cassandra noticed, he got home late last night, dripping wet and yet humming cheerfully as he let himself in. Now he's standing in the doorway, casually sipping a cup of coffee, looking at the body on the ground with a faintly bemused expression.]
Did you knock one of the snowmen down? We can fix it later, after we've had breakfast.
[He nudges the frozen body with one slippered foot.]
It seems this one had a little something extra inside!
oh JOY
[Cassandra wasn't the type to recoil at grisly sights, she had a strong stomach like that. But even this was managing to turn it just for how horrific the implications were. How did it get here? Were all of these snowmen buried humans? Who was doing this?
But all those thoughts went out the window the moment she saw Erwin. The shock was wiped clean from her face, replaced by stark confusion.]
You can see how awful this is, can't you?
no subject
[Strong words for someone who is still smiling merrily and sipping his coffee.]
There's snow on the sidewalk now! I'll have to shovel again later.
[Erwin tosses back his head and laughs, rough, guttural HA! HA! HA!s that sound more like screams than proper laughter.]
Thank goodness you're pretty, honey, or I don't know what I'd do with you!
no subject
What?
[He's never called her pretty, or 'honey.' Suddenly, her focus is all on him, face screwed into a squint.]
Okay. You're acting weird. What's going on with you?
no subject
[And how terrible would that be? Simply dreadful!]
Weird? What are you talking about? I'm just enjoying another beautiful day in Santa Rosita, our wonderful home.
[He smiles at her, his face stretching until most of his teeth are revealed.]
Don't you worry about the mess, sweet pea, I'll clean it up later.
( prompt: c! )
he's now glad he made the impulsive decision to drive all the way up here, wanting to make sure no one got hurt or anything due to the weird shit going down. the second he sees her running and hears all-too-familiar footfall from his last visit, daylight knows what to expect.
and what to do. hence honking and yelling, reaching over to open the passenger door to let her jump in. ]
Hey! Over here! [ he keeps blasting the horn, shouting himself raw. ] Hurry up and get in!
no subject
It almost makes her forget about the heavy footfalls shaking the earth behind her, or the hot breath she swore was hitting her neck.]
Go! Go!
[She's shouting. Not even inside the car yet, but her hands find the frame of the door and grab on, clambering in without even stopping.]
no subject
... holy fuck he can hear their stampeding even through the roar of the engine and the rush of blood in his ears. you'd think those bloodthirsty things would get bored trying to hunt them down by now.
he tries to assess his new driving buddy by the corner of his eye, trying to check for any injuries. ] Not hurt are you? Looks like you've run a marathon with those bastards?
A - hope you don't mind late tags!
[ This is absolutely what neighbors call out to each other, right?
For all that he's raised his voice to carry, Levi sounds entirely calm. Bundled up for the weather and working on keeping the sidewalk clear, he's still trying to figure out exactly what he's supposed to do with the bodies. Leaving them seemed shitty, but maybe it was more practical to wait until the weather broke to centralize them. ]
never! I'm definitely going to backtag these threads
[This is what we're calling out to each other about, on this snowy morning. Normal over-the-hedge talk, while Cass feels like she's about to pass out from the thoughts swirling in her mind.]
I'm just... still wrapping my head around it.
no subject
That's likely. [ He's been dealing with soldiers greener than himself for years, so it's easy to slide into that role. ] Weather's on our side here for this, so you can afford to take your time.
no subject
"On my side"? Yeah, that's what I need. Knowing that these snowmen aren't going to melt and the bodies won't start rotting. [Sarcasm is an old friend, a snug blanket that goes hand in hand with a surly attitude and panic.] What am I even going to do with them...?
no subject
We move them if we can. When the weather breaks, we can build a pyre. Anyone deserves that much. [ He's not expecting the locals to be any use about the bodies. Self-sufficiency seemed like the best course here. ]
C
thanks, hubby, and finding herself here without any chance to prepare.And then, just as she's started to get her bearings again, she notices the woman running nearby. And the thing in pursuit.
Cassandra might catch a glimpse of the woman, looking every bit the local housewife in her dress and apron, quickly moving to intervene. By gripping the metal pan tightly in her hands, and hurling it in the direction of the beast, striking it dead-center in the head. She's not counting on the maneuver to do much more than buy them time, though.]
Don't slow down!
[She's in full sprint mode herself now, running alongside Cassandra and frantically looking around for anything else that might help them buy time or move faster.]
dont feel like you need to tag this back
What Cassandra does happen to notice would be the opening door in one of the half-frozen buildings, a sight that is only more disappointing when she spots a woman stepping through it and letting it shut before her cries of "Stop! Don't close it!" can reach her through the strangling air.
But then, she does something at least a little amazing: bean the creature in hot pursuit of her in the head, with a frying pan. It's enough to stagger the beast to a standstill, but Cass wastes no time in gaining ground.]
You- you shouldn't have gone through the door. [She gasps, gulping in ice-cold air and letting it quell the fires in her chest. She's been running for a couple minutes, and it shows.] It's not safe - We need to leave.