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!

↑ back to top ↑


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
hoshikiri: (yaten.)

[personal profile] hoshikiri 2020-12-04 01:07 am (UTC)(link)
Is that right... Hm. My sister says much the same.

[This isn't what Hina meant either, Takame.

Still, even a workaholic like him could admit this was a hell of a lot of work.]


Ah, I suppose it would be to much for one man. Forgive my accusation, I merely did not expect to be greeted with... [He gestured to his left and right with his hands in a swaying motion.] so... many new additions to my front yard.

[So Serious. There was some hesitation on the word "my" because the idea of him owning a house was still strange. Then, said half to himself:] Is this my yard...?
hoshikiri: (shukuchi.)

:')

[personal profile] hoshikiri 2020-12-04 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
[Takame had mostly committed himself to learning the land, but for better or worse that included his ("his") own home. And as much as he preferred to not be alone, the strange, tempered-esque townsfolk were an oddity he needed some quiet to consider. And if he could avoid causing the young man Shinjiro discomfort, he would.

Of course quiet in "his" home wouldn't be had when someone or another started banging on the door like a debt collector from Kugane or Ul'dah. Sounds may feel different without his horns, but he could still hear fine through the door.

And this sure didn't sound legit. What or Who was "Golf" anyway, he's heard it so much among the men in town and has yet to connect a meaning.]


This is the residence of Kesi and Aragaki. There is no Golf here.
handycapable: (I am NEVER satisfied. it's a curse)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-04 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
[ He waits a moment or two to make sure the knife has been moved off of him, then lets out a breath and turns, finally, to look at her.

Yep, it's the girl -- his "wife," fucked up as that is -- who, though she may deny being a child, still looks almost disarmingly young to him. He must be at least, what, ten years older than her? Twice as old? Not that an old-fashioned suburban sprawl like this would probably bat much of an eye to such an age difference.

It's a super awkward elephant in the room that, for now, Ray is still going to put off acknowledging out loud.
]

Not the first thing.

[ He flicks the stove off with almost petty flourish from his wrist, scraping the eggs onto plates. ]

And don't be shitty, I was hungry! Look, I wanna figure out where we are too, and why, but what are we supposed to do, just go on a damn hunger strike until they send us home?
fanoperator: (giggle)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2020-12-04 01:29 am (UTC)(link)
[Brightening immediately at the praise to his apparel, Huaisang fluffs his skirts happily. He's still not used to showing his legs, but the dream month introduced him to the local customs of shaving and wearing hose, and he's become fond of some of the modern styles.] Oh, thank you! Isn't it delightful?

[He does a little spin so that Ray can admire the whole thing.] It's very nice to meet you, Ray Gillette. I live over on Carpenter.
hoshikiri: (yukikaze.)

christmas eve b

[personal profile] hoshikiri 2020-12-04 01:33 am (UTC)(link)
[Takame's hands were free for any menial task or request for help! Most of the time. When it came to accepting a drink from someone he didn't know, they were hastily jerked back and clenched into fists.

His apprehension fading and seeing the rather young man that offered it made him relax his posture and regain his unflinching calm. But hearing what the drink was quickly made that calm expression turn noticeably somber. Try as he might to find his ease again, he could not.

The odds of him actually drinking it were almost non-existent. But Takame did take the cup from his hands out of a mix of pity and... sentimentality, perhaps.]


I, ah. Yes. [No he doesn't.] ... Thank you, young man.
ribticklers: (126)

B

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-04 01:36 am (UTC)(link)
[Sans is just chilling on the pond. He's dragged a chair over and he's sitting on the chair on the ice, occasionally sliding around with a casual kick of his foot. Right now, he's lazily drifting over toward the edge of the pond where Cassandra is.]

Hey, they could be askin' you to do somethin' worse.
thevalley: (stubborn)

[personal profile] thevalley 2020-12-04 01:43 am (UTC)(link)
[She gives him a head nod like "okay fair". Knife still in hand, she goes and inspects the cupboards before turning her gaze back to him.

Yeah, they're married but she can't take it seriously. She doesn't know him, he doesn't matter. Dina and JJ are what matter. Not this guy.]


You sure the eggs aren't poisoned?

[She opens up the fridge, just to have something to do. There's a jello-mold inside.]

This is definitely poisoned.
ribticklers: (126)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-04 01:46 am (UTC)(link)
[Sans shrugs.] Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Anyway, who knows what weird stuff might happen if we don't roll with it.
ribticklers: (126)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-04 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
Probably not. [Sans can't be sure where this guy's yard is, but odds are slim.] Somebody teleported us all here. I was just tryin' to get out of my bedroom, maybe get some breakfast. [Sans shrugs in a very "what can you do?" sort of way.]
thevalley: (ghost of a smile)

[personal profile] thevalley 2020-12-04 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
I mean, you clean up like one.

[It's... a weak attempt at a joke. She's not really out to insult anyone over their attire.

Then she shrugs, like she concedes the point.]


We mostly made do with what we can back home. But even then... it's not like we all end up dressing the same.
demonicmiracle: (064)

[personal profile] demonicmiracle 2020-12-04 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
Aw, shucks.

[The one good thing about not wearing sunglasses 24/7 anymore is that he can wink at people, which he proceeds to do. It was a weak joke, but he'll let her have it.]

Exactly, you've still got to put a bit of yourself into it. And don't even get me started on things like lace. Hours and hours of work for a bit of frippery, just 'cause it looks nice. That's — that's people right there. S'brilliant.

[Crowley why are you so FUCKING weird.]
sunborne: (427. - 🧭 - MISLED.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-04 02:12 am (UTC)(link)
Oof. 1961? That's-

[ way into the past for him, he wants to complain but he's quick to stop himself. judging by her reaction to his answer - and her answer, of course - this is way into the future for her.

he scratches the back of his neck(!) while slipping off the bed, testing the ground with his newly acquired feet. ]
Yeah. That definitely doesn't check with me. What do you last remember? I was with my friends, getting a checkup.
catlady: (Default)

exploring

[personal profile] catlady 2020-12-04 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ she notices the girl slip off easily, her well-trained thief eye keeping a close watch on the room from the moment she'd walked into it. selina can't help but be curious how the kid's holding up, shafted with bruce of all people as a father. it's not surprising, really, he does tend to accumulate them back home, but bruce isn't the easiest person to live with and he certainly isn't the warmest.

selina follows after her -- not to keep her out of trouble, because if anything she's more likely to get her into more, but to check in on her. it's a weird situation and far better to establish some kind of trust the girl sooner rather than later. she looms behind the child like a ghost, silent before clearing her throat to get kipo's attention. ]


Not finding anything interesting, I take it?
interdicted: (pic#14489661)

[personal profile] interdicted 2020-12-04 02:46 am (UTC)(link)
[ Wolfe sizes up the stranger quickly, taking note of the loaner jacket (he'd passed over that one for his own, slightly less loud jacket) and the look on his face. He's noticed so far that many of the townsfolk have a certain bearing to them, and while he can't be certain that this person is another newcomer like him, he feels confident enough to answer. ]

The captain has been drinking tonight. [ He nods toward the back of the room where Harding was. ] He was drinking at the ceremony outside of town hall, but it was in response to Clarke's speech tonight. [ He thinks. But Harding's consumption did seem conspicuous, especially when Wolfe considers the contents of the speech. ]

If Harding appears to resent Clarke, Clarke doesn't hold absolute power. Harding isn't threatened by him.

[ Perhaps it's something he himself would have done were the Artifex Magnus speaking to a gathering of Scholars, but never the Archivist. When someone rules with an iron fist, you guard yourself. ]
sunborne: (388. - 🧭 - NEGOTIATIONS.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-04 02:52 am (UTC)(link)
Hey Santa.

Happy holidays. Just wanted to write in and ask for the same thing that my partner, Agatha, is asking for. Just to give her a fighting chance in getting what she wants. Since I'm her partner and all, I gotta show support for her, right? I think it would be a nice present for her and she could use a pick-me-up.

Thanks for hearing me out and I hope you have a Merry Christmas yourself.

Signed,
Daylight.
thotsandprayers: (and dear lady please don't laugh)

[personal profile] thotsandprayers 2020-12-04 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
[There's just kind of this slightly confused look on her face before she laughs about it. Glitter, really.]

Ah, I think if that were the case...at least I would have plenty of time to deny any knowledge or involvement in whatever my newfound husband and brother in law cooked up.

[The mayor doesn't strike her as the type to enjoy a glitter explosion.]

But to be serious, I would like an explanation as well. It'd be much better to know the reason than not, even if it might not be an answer we'd like to hear.
ribticklers: (122)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-04 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
[She's being lighthearted about it, but wow, even the pretend idea of Papyrus being married is still really weird to him. Hopefully if it ever happens for real Sans has more time to prepare for it.

Sans picks up a piece of sandwich loaf, more to examine it than anything else, as he considers.]
Maybe it's like a really pushy way to populate this place. Can't have people say no to movin' in if you don't give 'em a chance to.

[That seems really dumb, but maybe his real point is that this whole thing seems really dumb to him, so why not a dumb motive, too?]
interdicted: (pic#14489677)

[personal profile] interdicted 2020-12-04 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
[ Wolfe is only quick to voice the thought because he comes from a similar world to this. He knows California, even if he doesn't know Santa Rosita.

He ignores the question—sorry, Anduin!—though he's definitely taken note of that "back home" comment. He'll get to that. ]


Don't misunderstand me. Christmas exists in Alexandria, but so does Bodhi Day, Yalda, Hanukkah, Karthika Deepam, Saturnalia, and the Epagomenae, for a start.

Where are you from?
interdicted: (pic#14489677)

[personal profile] interdicted 2020-12-04 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ He recognizes Ellie from before—he nods in response to her words. ]

How many times have you been sent here?
the_caped_crusader: (Default)

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-04 03:23 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah.

[ he pulls his hand away without protest. he can recognize a guarded person when he sees one. ]

What brought you here, then?
interdicted: (pic#14489661)

[personal profile] interdicted 2020-12-04 03:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ Interesting. Wolfe lifts both eyebrows—Kalim suggests somewhere close to his own Alexandria, but he's never heard of Kalimdor, which is almost enough to mean that it doesn't exist at all.

Almost.

He's able to test another hypothesis almost immediately when Wrathion asks what he remembers last. ]


Translating from the London Serapeum to the Burner stronghold in Philadelphia. [ Those sure are words, and he's not offering further elaboration on them! ] And you?
the_caped_crusader: (Default)

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-04 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
New Jersey. About a six hour flight from here.

[ his eyes narrow just a bit as he tries his best to guess her accent, a little practice in the skill during conversation never hurt. ]

Not as far as Romania, though?
the_caped_crusader: (Default)

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-04 03:37 am (UTC)(link)
We're a long way from Paris or Italy, and Versace has another seventeen years until it even exists, unfortunately.

[ he plucks lightly at the fabric of his jacket before eyeing the stage, and the sheriff in particular. ]

A lot of police here for a small holiday event like this. Hard to imagine they've had trouble in the past. Maybe they're expecting some?
the_caped_crusader: (Default)

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-04 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
Calm down.

[ he commands, and plucks a picture frame from the wall, an image of the two of them smiling and happy, her on his shoulder, laughing. ]

There are a lifetime's worth of pictures around this house that suggest we've been a family for our entire lives, and the bathroom leads to Santa's village. It doesn't take a detective to guess it's the former.
thotsandprayers: (the miserable lonely depressed pathetic)

[personal profile] thotsandprayers 2020-12-04 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
[She'll let him have that moment to kind of relax, she knows how important moments like that are (even if frowning and being exhausted isn't really relaxing), but soon enough she'll respond.]

And here I was hoping I'd imagined the whole thing.

[Not that she really thought that as her imagination doesn't usually cook up things like that. But still, it's nice to speak to someone else who remembers that happening.]

Certainly if the trees are similar, they're worth every penny.

[Or at least she figures most people would think so.]