robbies: (Default)
TRANQUILIZERS ([personal profile] robbies) wrote in [community profile] logsville2020-12-01 06:00 pm

DECEMBER 2020 EVENT - PART 1


CHAPTER ONE, PART 1: A HOLLY JOLLY HOLIDAY

Do you hear what I hear?


DECEMBER 5th | A MYSTERIOUS VILLAGE | THE MAYOR HAS INVITED YOU...

DECEMBER 5th

Don’t you hate to be the last to know?

Out of the windows of your brand new homes, you spot families trotting along in their happy, nuclear units. Stores and restaurants have closed early—on main street, where jingle bells hang from every door, the only souls to be seen are heading toward the town hall, where wreaths hang around the stone lions’ necks. A stage, awash in string lighting, has been erected with three chairs sitting empty behind a podium. Policemen with their smiles and baby-blues stand guard before it; they too are not allowed beyond the velvet ropes. Twenty feet tall—near to reaching the tip-top of the clock tower—a mass is hidden by black tarps. This is the most guarded of all, ringed by no less than twelve junior policemen standing vigil around the clock.

At sundown, you start to see what’s to come.

As the crowd swells, bundled in their coats and scarves, the ladies with silk scarves drawn around their perfectly coiffed hairstyles, three figures take to the stage:
Chief of Police, Dale Harding, who must constantly slip away and bend his ear to listen to one of his boys, giving orders with long sighs, firm words, and grumbles as he takes his seat again. Occasionally one sees a flash of silver moving from his lapel up to his lips, but surely that must only be his policeman’s badge that he kisses, because he loves his town so very, very much!

The Happy Homes Association—or at least, their junior representative. Her bright and shining pin of office sits hidden behind the tremendous fruit basket poised upon her lap, where green and scarlet cellophane cannot quite hide the fruitcake inside the way it does her name. How does she keep her teeth so white and her lipstick so clean and red? Subscribe to their newsletter and read Cathy’s Cosmetic Can-Dos! column to find out!
Mayor Phillip Clarke—well, Phil to his friends. He takes his place at the podium, his top hat inky black, leather gloves oiled and bright, and draws all the town’s breathless attention. He taps the microphone. Once—the crowd inhales—twice—their eyes shine as they look up—three times

“Gooooood evening, Santa Rosita!”

The crowd goes wild as Clarke bellows. Eventually, he raises both arms and gestures for them to quiet down.

“I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out, especially on a school night!” Like the admonishing parent, he wags a knowing finger at several teens in the crowd. “Believe you me, on a night like this, I know how tempting it is to stay home and curl up on the couch with a good book. And,” he adds with a wink to a woman in the front of the crowd, “maybe some of Margie's famous hot chocolate.”

Laughter ripples through the crowd. Again, Clarke patiently waits until they’re finished before continuing, “But that's exactly what makes our little town so special. No matter the time, every day of the week there's always someone out there who will sacrifice something for the better of the community. Be it the energy to get this terrific tree set up—” he gestures to the tree, “—the patience to string twenty yards of lights up—which, I might add, have been generously donated by our pals at Honeybees—or even just time.”

Clarke’s tone turns solemn, but his face remains fixed in a winning smile. “Santa Rosita isn't just a town. It's a family. Each and every one of you out here tonight is a valued member. Even all you new faces out there!” He points to several newcomers in the crowd in what might almost be an accusatory manner if not for the smile on his face. “Don't think I can't see you! Tonight, you have become part of that family. Santa Rosita is your home now. It's through our traditions that we endure, and it's my sincerest wish that you, all of you, will join together with us and help us keep them alive for years to come.”

The crowd applauds, everyone turning to face the new families. As Harding takes a swig from a flask he pulls out of his pocket and the HHA representative continues to beam at the audience with her too-white smile, Clarke fully turns to the tree and pumps his fist in the air, riling the crowd back up.

“And now, without further ado, let's RING. IN. THE HOLIDAYS!”
As his words come to a close, at last the tarp is pulled away—revealing twenty feet of pure, polished, brilliant...

...aluminium christmas tree.

Quick as the busy bees they are, the Happy Homes Association is there to announce that you can buy both table-sized and home-use duplicates for your own homes! The cost is $8 for the little ones and $18.50 for the big trees—get your wallets ready!

As the crowd stampedes toward their own tiny and/or six-foot silver replicas, the three figures on the stage are hurried away. The HHA representative presents their gift basket to the Mayor. He kisses her on both cheeks, rubbing his belly in anticipation of the deliciousness to come, and hurries on. Chief Harding takes the rear, casting back a sour look, and before you have a chance to see if the three could answer any questions, the stage is empty again.

...well, get in line! You want those trees too, don’t you?

↑ back to top ↑


A MYSTERIOUS VILLAGE

The days are getting colder and the entire town seems to be getting into the holiday spirit, between the tree lighting ceremony and the decorations your neighbors are putting up. But something seems to want you to get into the Christmas spirit as well—you haven’t done anything out of the ordinary, but when you open the door, you’re met by a burst of frigid air carrying the scents of gingerbread and peppermint on it.

Stepping through the door, you are not in Santa Rosita any more.

Well, technically, you are; you’re just down by Rose Garden Park, before the Old Growth starts. But it’s not where you thought you were going, and it doesn’t resemble the normal streets of suburbia now. You’ve stepped into a charming Christmas village, packed with all sorts of fun winter activities and sights to see! The ground is covered in pure white snow that never seems to melt into slush, and the sounds of high, sweet jingle bells fill the air as a team of reindeer haul a sleigh past. Maybe that’s Santa’s sleigh they’re pulling?
As you walk into the village, a red pole demands your attention, placed in such a way that no one can miss it. A letter is attached to it:

’Twas the month before Christmas and all through the town
The people were smiling; there was nary a frown!
They entered my village, all brimming with cheer
And knew that quite soon, old St. Nick would be here
There's skating and snowmen and light shows galore
There's even a place to make wreaths for your door!
But somewhere inside there's a mailbox to find
And Santa may bring you what's most on your mind…

As the letter suggests, the village is full of hustle and bustle. Santa’s elves—Robbies decked out in red and green costumes with matching tights and jingle bell boots—are everywhere, making sure that there’s always plenty of holiday treats available for visitors to eat and drink. The nearby pond is iced over and the elf manning the ice skate exchange station seems to be able to guess your perfect size with a glance, while reindeer racing courses have been set up encircling the village. All of the buildings and many of the trees have been lined with lights, warm and bright, and there are stations set up where visitors can make garlands or wreaths to take back with them to the real world.

The real world? Yes, of course—that boring place with work and school and vacuuming! Though the door you initially walked through may have turned into a station for making gingerbread houses, you can hoof it back to your home in Shadyside at any time. The public library is just that way, past the baseball diamond! Any time you open a door, however, you run a risk of finding that it leads back to the village, where the elves are waiting to ensure you enjoy your visit. You can try to close the door and open it again, but who knows if your luck has changed?

The organizers of the village seem to be most insistent that you come and enjoy yourself—flyers are all around town, stuffed in your mailbox, and pinned on bulletin boards. Though some signs on lampposts seem as though they’ve been torn down in a huff, you still can spot them on Main Street: “Visit Santa Rosita’s Very Own Christmas Village!”

And visit it you will.

While the elves are happy to welcome visitors to their village, they also have to work. Christmas toys don’t build themselves, you know! The elves will point out Santa’s Workshop to you, where you can buy freshly made candy canes, charming ornaments for your new aluminum Christmas trees (you did buy one from the Happy Homes Association, didn’t you?), and other sundries and stocking stuffers. There’s even a German-style bar in the back serving hot chocolate and mulled wine—non-alcoholic, of course; this is a family event. Just outside of the workshop’s entrance is a mailbox, its post swirled red and white and wrapped in garlands. A small desk sits next to the mailbox with a stack of stationery, envelopes pre-addressed to Santa Claus at the North Pole, and pens on top.

At the top of the stationery, beside cutesy illustrations of hippos and children missing their front teeth, are the words, “What I want most for Christmas is…”

Why not write Santa a letter? What have you got to lose?

↑ back to top ↑


THE MAYOR HAS INVITED YOU...

...to the annual Christmas gala, beginning at 4:00 pm sharp at Santa Rosita’s stately town hall! The invitation appears in your mailbox with just enough time for you to gather all your family and go shopping, because you certainly want to look your best. You simply must. The who’s who of the town will be there, all wearing their finest velvet dresses and shined black shoes. Be warned that the dress code will be strictly enforced by the Happy Home Association—only red and green allowed, or else it simply isn’t festive. Men in bright red or green suits - women sporting taffeta skirts in complementing shades - pinned corsages and matching handbags - no detail left untouched!

You wouldn’t want to be caught standing out from the crowd, would you? In the Mayor’s presence?

That might be a bad idea.

But the holidays do get the better of us sometimes, don’t they? The HHA understands, and if on the day of the party you have found yourself without a red or green garment, they have some loaners to wear. If you’ll simply follow Mrs. Jones down to the coat room, she can show you some options.

  • For the ladies (and female-presenting), they offer up beautiful green or red dresses as loaner. ”It matches the metal trees!” the coat clerk brightly tells you, her own dress as shimmery as they come.

  • For the gentlemen(ly presenting among you), fresh off the rack at the local Sears Roebuck department store, these fetching blazers are available, complete with matching trousers.

In front of you in line is someone who very clearly does not have the Christmas spirit flowing through them, judging by how they wish to argue with the HHA about these “loaner garments.” How rude! But don’t worry—when you see the once-irascible individual later by the punch bowl, there’s a glassy smile on their face and they’re decked out in jolly green and poppy red, happy as—well, a kid on Christmas morning.

Tables are laid out with food and drink aplenty. Even the sandwich loaf has made its effort to match the decor, as red poinsettias and holly berries dot the windows (careful children—they’re poisonous) and rich green pines occupy every corner. Move outside of the room and you’ll find nothing more than locked and darkened offices, with the occasional policemen and night guards shaking their fingers at you to go back and enjoy the party. This is a night to be merry and drink some mocktails, not to go through the filing!

Up by the fine wood paneling and brilliant metal tree stands the mayor himself. Looking dashing as Santa Claus, a cluster of parents flock nearby beaming as their child gets their photo taken with Mayor Clarke! That’s certainly going in the Christmas newsletter! Each of them has a little present—perfectly wrapped, just see Grandma’s Gift Wrapping Guide in this month’s HHA newsletter—to give to the Mayor for all his hard work this year.

You didn’t think that stack of presents by Santa’s chair was for him to pass out, did you?

Between music sets (graciously played by the Frederick Loren High School marching band), the Mayor stands—the hall falls silent, all the little cups and plates still in jolly hands. He has a speech to give you all, you fine citizens, faces old and new:

“Ho-ho-hi there, Santa Rosita! And how are we enjoying ourselves tonight? I see some of our new families were able to make it out tonight—is that Richard O’Reilly and the missus?” Using a hand to shade his eyes, Clarke squints into the throng of townspeople. “And Jim Astin with Lucy and little Susie! Wow. Isn’t that something?”

In the back of the room, Chief Harding pours himself a glass of punch, takes a sip, then reaches into his suit jacket for his flask.
“Now, in my house,” Clarke continues, “we have a rule not to open any presents until Christmas Day, but with all the ones I've gotten tonight, it's just too darn tempting.” Reaching down, he takes a box from the pile of gifts at his feet. “I think this one's a tackle box, and I'm pretty sure this—” he reaches down for another smaller box, “—is that electric razor I’ve had my eye on.” He shakes the box, chuckling, as the rest of the crowd joins him.

“But let's get serious for a moment.” Clarke’s expression turns thoughtful. “Although getting a truckload of Christmas presents is swell, do you want to know what the greatest gift you've given me is?” He pauses performatively, waiting for an answer from the crowd that never comes.

“The greatest gift you've all given me... is letting me serve you.”

In the back, Harding ditches the punch cup and just drinks straight from the flask.

“I'm honored to be here with you all tonight,” Clarke continues proudly, “just I am honored to be able to wake up every morning, look in the mirror and tell myself that I... am your mayor. Which is why I want to give something back to you. How many of you have already visited Santa's little village?”

There’s a round of cheering in the front of the audience from the many children in attendance with their parents. Clarke opens his arms wide.

“My idea! I decided that if I can't bring Santa Rosita to the North Pole, I'm going to bring the North Pole to Santa Rosita. Enjoy yourselves! Saint Nick's got a lot of work to do before Christmas. So be good, don’t pout, and for goodness sake—have fun!

The clapping threatens to take down the garlands hung from chandeliers. ”A fine orator!” “Reminds me of the war, when we heard Churchill over the radio. Why, Clarke gives him a run for his money, ha ha ha!”

A delightful HHA elf comes to replenish the pickle tree on the appetizer table, and the covers of Bing Crosby carry you away into the night.

Remember to stay until 9:00 pm, when the Santa Rosita Children’s Choir will start caroling!

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OOC INFO

Welcome to the first part of the event! You can use this entry to top-level for the event, but feel free to use the log and network communities as well.

A few things to keep in mind: Firstly, there is no return portal back into town once your character is teleported into the Christmas village. They will have to walk back on foot or get lucky and catch a ride from a helpful citizen.

Secondly, please be mindful of how your character interacts with the setting. While characters are welcome to explore the town and ask questions, Santa Rosita is still a happy little suburb in the 1960s, where appearances matter and acting too out of line from commonly accepted societal norms can come with their own unique consequences. We do not intend to punish players for their curiosity, but be aware that the townsfolk may not be so understanding of wanton disrespect for their ways!

And thirdly, the NPCs will not be available for interactions. At the party, Harding will leave early and Clarke will leave to handle other business. Santa does have a schedule to keep, after all.

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.

Remember--Part 2 of this event is coming December 15th!

▶ NAVIGATION ◀
COMMS logs | network | ooc | memes
OOC INFO premise | rules | faq | taken | applications | hiatus/drop/canon updates | activity check | reserves | mod contact
SETTING INFO calendar | setting | housing | npcs | death and tranquilizing | event suggestions/engagements
13thcommander: (innocence lost)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-03 01:36 pm (UTC)(link)
So he was a real person, at one point.

[And presumably now isn't, although who knows around here. She seems pretty knowledgeable about the subject, and Erwin turns to face her more fully.]

I can't say I know much about this Christmas festival either, or the Halloween from earlier. Is it... expected, to have the dead return during holidays?
13thcommander: (yeah yeah tell me more)

i.

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-03 01:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[Erwin has noticed the tall, handsome woman before; they clearly live in the same neighborhood, possibly even next door, but haven't been formally introduced yet. It has never felt like the right time, with everything else going on. But he's seen her, more than once, and when he runs into her in the library, it feels like serendipity.]

[Erwin loves this library. He is completely fascinated by it, and would spend all day here if he could. There's such an accumulated wealth of knowledge, and so many things he's never heard about before. He knows that he should be at least a little intimidated by how much catching up he has to do, but he's dived right in, devouring everything from atlases to encyclopedias to fiction with equal enthusiasm.]

[He approaches Diana from the side, not trying to conceal his footsteps or sneak up on her in any way. He's dressed in the clothing from his closet, and carrying a canvas tote bag stuffed with books. As soon as he found out about library cards, he signed up for one.
]

Are you able to read that?

[He gestures up at the stained glass with his chin.]

I can pick out a few words, but not enough to translate it.
13thcommander: (thank)

around the neighborhood

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-03 01:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[Erwin has noticed the mad cleaning spree going on next door, and it is a sight that's both familiar and deeply heartwarming. He only knows one person who can kick up that much of a fuss over cleaning, and as soon as he's dressed and decent, he leaves his house and walks over.]

[He gets there just in time to intercept a smiling neighborhood lady, clearly a local, who is haranguing a very disgruntled Levi about what a fine husband he is, so sweet that he's helping his wife, such a lucky woman she is! Erwin approaches and takes her by the elbow, gently steering her away from Levi and the snarling dressing down that's almost certain to erupt any moment now.
]

Yes, his wife is lucky, isn't she? He learned all this in the war, you know. He kept our barracks cleaner than you can imagine.

[He really, really hopes the lady doesn't ask him for any details about "the war," since Erwin won't have any, and fortunately, she doesn't. She simpers a little and thanks Erwin for their service--he nods in solemn acceptance--and gives him a standing invitation to come over for coffee sometime before wandering off.]

[As soon as she's gone, Erwin turns back to Levi.
]

It appears we're neighbors again.

[And he couldn't be happier about it, in all honesty.]
13thcommander: (deep sigh)

Christmas Eve, A

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-03 01:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[There is a great deal about this world that Erwin doesn't understand, particularly the sudden movement to this garish, celebratory festival, but when he sees a young man frozen in a doorway, his eyes wide as he quietly mutters to himself, his instincts kick in. Peter isn't much older than the recruits Erwin used to get in the Survey Corps, and he's seen that shell-shocked, thousand-yard stare more times than he'd like to admit.]

[He might not know what to do with many things in this world, but he knows how to handle this.]

[Erwin approaches from the side, his hand up and facing outward, so Peter can see it. When he speaks, his voice is soft and slow.
]

Easy does it there, soldier. You're all right. You're awake, and this is real. It's okay, I'm here with you.
petsthedog: (pic#12827155)

i.

[personal profile] petsthedog 2020-12-03 02:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[Shinjiro happens to be nearby as Ellie’s realizing the dilemma of needing to pay for things rather than scavenge or steal them, eyebrows slowly traveling up his forehead more visibly than usual since he doesn’t have a beanie to hide under anymore. His own basket is significantly more modest, just a few basic cooking ingredients and spices. He’d avoided the idea of getting work at first, not wanting to “settle down” here, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. But ultimately you’ve got to eat, so he’d gotten himself a part time job at a local cafe after a few days. Surprisingly easily, really, considering he’s a surly, scruffy looking guy whose resting bitchface carries the look of risking being punched in the face for approaching.]

...Geez, you stockin’ up for an apocalypse, or what? [He looks over the nearly full cart, expression revealing more and more “yikes” as she goes on.]

The prices’re on the shelves, but you ain’t gonna be able to pay for even half of that.
Edited (accidentally a couple words) 2020-12-04 07:57 (UTC)
freeflight: (108)

[personal profile] freeflight 2020-12-03 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It’s only that timely intervention that has him biting back whatever he’d been about to say as Erwin smoothly insert himself into the one-sided conversation. There are a few serious unanswered questions here. How did he actually manage to make people just shut up and go away that easily? Also, neighbors again—? When he’d woke up that morning, he hadn’t actually been able to put together exactly what was real.

And, frankly, Erwin being there before had made him question what he did recall, though now it seems he’d overthought it. Instead of addressing any of that, he just crosses his arms and looks up at his commander, apparently entirely put out by the whole situation.
]

You’d think having a dick meant I’d want to live like a filthy animal... [ So, yeah, probably best that he hadn’t tried to resolve that himself. ]
sunborne: (402. - 🧭 - SNARKER.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-03 03:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ eyyyy. hey there, fellow october buddy. 👈 😎 👈 nice to see there's someone else to be quietly weirded out with what's going down.

seeing he no longer needs to act so cheerful and update, daylight allows some of the exhaustion (and confusion, definitely the confusion) to seep through his slumped shoulders, tentative frown. he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket, huffing a bit while trying to sort out his thoughts. ]


... Definitely matches the intense energy everyone had with Halloween. [ yeah. let's say word it like that. ] Someone mentioned how these trees might be needed to protect us like how the jack-o-lanterns did and urgh. I hope that's not the case.

or, at the very least, he hoped buying the little stands would be enough.
13thcommander: (depression smile)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-03 04:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's surprising what a smile and some gentle coercion will do when you want pesky people to leave you alone. Levi should try it sometime.]

[... or not, because that would be terrifying. Leave the smooth talking to Erwin, please.
]

They have some outdated notions about exactly how filthy women can get, it seems.

[Look, a military barracks is going to slide into being disgusting very quickly, and it doesn't matter if it's men or women living in it. This is just a truth that Erwin has discovered over the years.]

It's good to see that you're still here too.

[Could Erwin get by without Levi? Probably. Does he want to test that theory? Absolutely not.]
13thcommander: (considering)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-03 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)
A: December 1-4

[Erwin has never been the kind of person to sit back and just take things as they come. He's not a passive person and never has been, and so when he wakes up still in this world, he takes to the streets. He'll spend a few days exploring, gathering intel, and just generally finding out what's in the city.]

[The discovery of the library delights him; the food in the local diner is incredibly rich and salty to his palate; when he finds the local high school, he stands in front of it for a long time, studying the building and thinking. Otherwise, he wanders the city on foot, being generally charming to anyone who speaks to him, robbie or otherwise.]

[You never know what people might reveal to you if they don't consider you a threat.]

[He wishes he could get the car in his garage running, though. He could cover a lot more ground if he could figure that out.
]

B: Christmas Village

[Erwin attended the tree lighting and has a small, aluminum tree in the front window of his house to show for it, but it's the Christmas Village that really catches his interest. Not so much the Village itself, but its ability to appear through any door. Every time he winds up there, he makes note of which door led to it, and then goes back to the suburbs to try that same door again.]

[There doesn't seem to be any pattern to it, which frustrates him, and he's a bit testy after several trips through the various doors and being no closer to solving the mystery. Still, he's trying to continue gathering intelligence on it.
]

Excuse me... what door did you use to get here?

C: the Gala

[Erwin is much more comfortable in green than red, and manages to somehow make the checkered, dark green suit look good. He hasn't bothered to pin up his empty right sleeve, which ruins the lines of it a bit. He won't argue if someone more fashion-forward offers to fix it for him, though.]

[Parties are, he knows, a great chance for mingling and building intelligence networks, so he roams around the ballroom, exchanging small talk and flashing a smile here and there.
]

Quite the party, isn't it? An interesting welcome to Santa Rosita, certainly!

[And if your character happens to be a woman...]

Would you like to dance?
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (7)

[personal profile] blackscales 2020-12-03 05:28 pm (UTC)(link)
If Wrathion were to try to strike up gossip with the ladies at the gala, would they engage or would they consider him terribly rude? Do they have good stories about who is wearing the wrong attire, who didn't turn up, how terribly tired Chief Harding seems, etc?
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (8)

Wrathion | World of Warcraft

[personal profile] blackscales 2020-12-03 05:39 pm (UTC)(link)
i. CHRISTMAS TREES

Wrathion is no stranger to Winter Veil celebrations, but this... is supposedly not Winter Veil. It's... Christmas, although it feels very familiar to him. The same colours are favoured, styles of decoration. If he hadn't been told otherwise, he'd assume it was Winter Veil by appearances alone.

This... tree, though. Wrathion sits watching the ceremony with a frown as he studies the interplay between all the people here. Quite interesting, he thinks that they do not appear to be totally in harmony -- if the gentleman drinking is any indication.

There's a burst of applause, the tree is revealed, and as everyone gets up to rush to the queue Wrathion lingers back. His black leather jacket and loosely wrapped scarf are only just about keeping him tolerably warm, but mostly he appears to be eyeing the tree.

"Are these considered... Fashionable?"

There's a barely disguised note of disdain to the question, one that clearly communicates that he cannot imagine why they would be.

ii. CHRISTMAS VILLAGE

The teleportation is... irritating, and at first Wrathion wonders if he has escaped this place entirely at last. It's unfortunate to find the hasn't. Instead, he's simply in a colder part of Santa Rosita, and the light t-shirt under his leather jacket isn't cutting it. Zipping it up with a gentle tch of frustration Wrathion wades out into the crowds, curious enough to at least see what might be of interest here. He gravitates quickly toward the bar, buying some hot chocolate to try and keep his hands warm, then curiously explores the rest of the activities.

He pauses by the stand to watch people wreathing... garlands and wreaths of some sort, presumably for seasonal decoration. There's an art to it, he realises, and that piques his interest enough to have him stopping and setting down his drink to begin curiously twining. There's a careful confidence to his the movement of his hands that speaks of someone used to crafting (although, admittedly, his crafts are usually more... purposeful than decorative wreathes) and in a few minutes he stops and examines his finished product.

It has, perhaps, slightly less flourish than some of the examples the representatives have hung up -- but that's simply his own taste. The added tinsel on theirs is rather gaudy in his opinion. Almost as bad as the aluminium tree.

He now unfortunately has a wreath he hasn't much interest in.

Wrathion glances around, then looks to the closest person by him considering the stand.

"Perhaps I can save you some trouble," he offers, and holds out the one he made.

iii. SKATING -- CLOSED TO ANDUIN

Wrathion has, admittedly, never been ice skating in his life. He's simply been far too busy to indulge in these peculiar seasonal activities, and besides which -- skating is of no use to him. It is not a skill that would benefit him, a dragon. Were he to encounter ice, he could simply melt it or fly over it!

Currently, he can do neither.

The enthusiastic people by the rink have talked Wrathion into putting on a pair of skates and getting onto the ice. Currently, he is holding onto the edge with a vice-like grip and trying to balance. They are, repeatedly, trying to encourage him to let go.

"I will do so when I am ready," he snaps back, and tries to move a little once more. It is... more difficult than it looks to balance. Wrathion instantly realises this was a mistake -- he's cold, his muscles are tense enough that he's already aching, and worst of all he's risking embarrassing himself thanks to pushy people dressed poorly as some sort of elf.

Glancing up and across the ice Wrathion pauses suddenly, eyes catching on a flash of blond hair and broad shoulders. Then blue eyes.

Wrathion forgets how to breathe.

Then, how to balance.

He wobbles, flails out his hands and grips the boarding around the ice rink as his feet escape out from under him. There's a bright, tinkling peel of laughter from the elves and Wrathion's fluster turns to irritation as he scrabbles to get his balance back.

"Yes, very funny," he snaps, and his eyes shoot nervously back to Anduin.

iv. THE MAYOR'S GALA

Some of the garments on display are, in Wrathion's opinion, absolutely terrible.

He's barely managed to escape scrutiny in his red and black suit, which has far more colour than he'd like but beggars can't be choosers. The black waistcoat goes some way to making it tolerable, but he misses having his own clothing, and he misses being more often around tolerable people.

He lingers by the drinks, sipping sadly non-alcoholic punch and trying to strike up casual conversation every now and then.

"Chief Harding seems rather tired tonight," he prompts carefully of the newest person to duck in beside him. He lifts newly-hazel eyes up to his companion and offers a wry smile. "I wonder if he's simply exhausted from enjoying the seasonal celebrations too much."

It isn't that at all, but you can't just open with suggesting someone is drinking due to how dire the whole thing is.
undiagnosed: (pic#14468574)

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2020-12-03 05:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[...okay, she looks like she's about fifteen, which really concerns archer. why in the hell would he wake up in an unfamiliar house with a kid? he drops a little of his vitriol, but not all.]

Castle? Christ, kid, where are you from? [archer pushes himself up off the wall, standing straight a little wobbly. no tactlecane, that's annoying. no cane at all, actually. that's extra annoying.

he shakes his head in answer to the question, eyes falling to a picture on the bedside table. of... them. he picks it up with a disgusted expression, angling it towards her so she can see it too.]
Yeah, I have no idea but I'm gonna go downstairs and start breaking people's bones until I do. You might wanna... I dunno, stay out of the way.
righthandstand: (I feel you not so deeply)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2020-12-03 05:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Dear Santa,

This is pretty dumb and I don't even know if it'll work but can I have my motorbike from home all fixed up? That'd be pretty sweet.

Okuyasu Nijimura
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (13)

[personal profile] blackscales 2020-12-03 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Honestly perfect, he has strong opinions on fashion too!
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (7)

[personal profile] blackscales 2020-12-03 05:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ A... hot snow cone?

He looks sceptical. ]


How is it heated?

[ He's quite certain a hot snow cone is just going to end up liquid. ]
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (25)

[personal profile] blackscales 2020-12-03 05:53 pm (UTC)(link)
An interesting point! Wrathion tilts his head, studying the tree.

"Perhaps the metal is valuable..."

A show of wealth might explain the otherwise seemingly terrible choice.

Still.

He has, in fact, managed to get a reaction that tells him something valuable -- exactly what he hoped for! This person has revealed themselves to also be new to the area. He plays at curiosity a moment longer before lifting his eyes back to Huaisang, trying for his most disarming smile again.

"You moved to our charming area recently, then?"

Do tell him more.
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_11956a03d24830b639590756a2a9e8b2_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-03 06:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Are you looking to be stabbed?

[What an unusual burglar. Agatha remains seated, knife still very much in hand, but otherwise simply looks the- she supposes he must be called a 'man' by his apparent age- over.]

You are certainly going the right way about it, if so.
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_333e1b658a8f1b4b13ea55a133ffc1a3_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-03 06:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[Agatha can't help it, she gives a small snort of a laugh at that.]

We are are rather poor sight for a feast. Metallic- [What do you even call this? She looks at the item in her hands for a long moment.] Flora is hardly tradition. But it is America.
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_11956a03d24830b639590756a2a9e8b2_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-03 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[Okay, that stumbles her a little. She'd made the basic assumption that everyone would at least but from her year- a terrible error. One that she places a hand over her heart to take in for a moment.]

You don't appear to be lying...that is. That is surprising. I was last in the year 1897. It is now, it seems, 1961.
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_52f3767ba16ab87f77eb367c5261e65f_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-03 06:10 pm (UTC)(link)
It is not. But I was to be dead myself before arriving here. It seems we must readjust our expectations.

[Sometimes it's better to just get the whole 'I died' thing out of the way. Saves awkwardness later on.]

I hope the child drew the line at calling back saints, however. The Church would have a difficult time explaining their resurrections prior to that of our Lord.
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_79b9969bb6bee2efc1cc3299fafba3a8_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-03 06:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Hm, I would imagine he would have something to say about all of...this.

[She used her free hand to wave at the giant mental tree, and the smaller ones for sale.]

Have you recently arrived, as well?
undiagnosed: (pic#14468787)

RIGHT? erwin has the stronger eyebrow game though, ofc

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2020-12-03 06:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Of course not, [you barry, he mutters under his breath.] yeah? Well, you're the only guy that's said anything, so I'm gonna go ahead and assume I'm off the hook for this one, Jack McGarett.

[he sighs, rubbing the side of his nose a little. as much as he was acting like he didn't, he is actually picking up what erwin's putting down.]

Alright, thrill me. In code, if you want to continue like that, but it's gonna be kind of tedious to work out a cipher after I've had this much to drink.
demonicmiracle: (107)

[personal profile] demonicmiracle 2020-12-03 06:30 pm (UTC)(link)
S'just propaganda, all that nonsense about figures.

[He gives him a pat on the arm anyway in slightly condescending reassurance, because he's something of a bastard.

He briefly considers taking Ray's arm, feeling playful, but with the cane he doesn't want to potentially put him off balance, so he just gestures him towards the department store entrance so they can head that way.]


Bet you could pull off a darker shade, wouldn't look too much like an elf threw up on you.