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
interdicted: (pic#14489661)

[personal profile] interdicted 2020-12-05 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ He gives a single nod of understanding when Daylight mentions the jack-o-lanterns—Huaisang mentioned them too. Wolfe still finds it patently ridiculous that something such as a carved gourd could ward away the raised dead (or that the dead were somehow raised at all, to be fair), but hasn't he noticed himself automatically reaching for the twin statues of Bet and Beset outside his front door when he enters his house? True, the house he's been given here doesn't have the household gods inset at the threshold, but it's a tradition his people have carried on for years.

It's a combination of this and the recognition—between Huaisang's words about how it's important to partake in local traditions and Daylight's talk about getting on the townsfolk's good side—that it's an expected tradition that makes Wolfe scowl, even as he reaches for his wallet. ]


I think I'd prefer a sidearm.

But you make your points well, if not succinctly. Your name?
handycapable: (question asked question answered)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
Right? And damn, what I wouldn't give to be plied with wine right about now... Christ, or even egg nog, or, I dunno, sangria...?

[ Ray doesn't even care what, just that this evening -- Hell, all of it -- is too much to put up with sober. Next time he'll know to come prepared.

He glances over, eyebrow raised a bit.
]

The what? [ Then: ] Oh, wait, the...?

[ How would that go, Ray wonders? Temping, actually, although he's not sure he needs to be giving the police chief any particular excuse to notice him if he doesn't have to. ]

Dunno if he'd be all that keen on sharing.
webdesigned: (123)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-05 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
( yeah, getting into the dim and vacant and sort of spooky part of town hall had been a bit of a process. well, or it would have been, if Peter had not mentioned that he thought he saw someone in an navy jacket coat and half the lineup had departed instantly to deal with the dress code violation. Santa Rosita is serious about its dress code, apparently.

Peter seems to have alarmed the guy that scared him nearly as much as the guy scared him. perfectly balanced, indicative that they're both on edge, and leaving Peter feeling at least mildly guilty. sorry??? also, he can't help but notice exactly what the guy was doing. even if he's never tried to pick a lock himself, Peter knows what it looks like.
)

Sorry. Oh no. You okay? ( Peter managed to spook the guy enough he fell over, its hard not to feel a little bad. however, given support on his terrible cover is a half relief that his present company also wants to sneak around, and isn't here to be suspicious or even worse, redirect him back to the party. peter sells his agreement like it's the first practice of a middle school play. look, he's not an actor. ) Oh. For sure. It's gotta be.

( no. for sure no. that's the way away from the party. but Peter is committed to his snooping, now. why not snoop with company? )
sunborne: (419. - 🧭 - ONSIM.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-05 04:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ oh. ]

I'm sorry about that. [ he isn't sure what else to say and decides to not stick his newly gained foot in his newly gained mouth. (and sharing his own near-death experience is something he doesn't make a habit of doing.)

so, instead, he focuses on the second angle of the conversation: ]
I heard a voice too, for what it's worth. They were almost too quiet to hear for me but they were calling for help. I remember that much.
handycapable: (have you heard my gay jesus theory?)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
Somehow...

[ Ray agrees with a shake of his head and roll of his eyes, despite not hating everything about his Santa Rosita experience so far... mixed feelings so far, because nothing so awful has happened yet to make it much (or any) worse than Ray's normal life. Christmas in mid-century suburbia is kind of charming to him.

Still, he's a little more dressed to be outdoors at the moment, so he turns back to the refreshment table and grabs an extra large cup of hot apple cider.
]

Still, no reason to freeze to death. Here, this should help.
thotsandprayers: (that's what I do what I live for to help)

[personal profile] thotsandprayers 2020-12-05 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
[The answer to that is really way more of a mess than it should be. So she'll go with the simplest version.]

I'm from Japan, but I haven't been home in some time. My work takes me all over the world, and I'm not sure when the chance for a trip back will come up.

[None of that is technically a lie!]

And you?

[The name Van Helsing doesn't actually mean much to her. She's certainly heard of the book Dracula, but it's really not the type of thing she'd go out of her way to read.]
webdesigned: (190)

oh no my emotions what a good commander :(

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-05 04:41 am (UTC)(link)
( Peter was really not expecting an answer. he's more than happy to have a psychotic break all on his own. because that has to be what is happening, it's the only explanation for waking up in 1960s California with a family he's never met and doorways to Christmas Villages randomly set into a sleepy suburban street. these sorts of things don't just happen. they can't just happen, existence has orderly rules and even the kid with spider mutated genes thinks there's a breaking point of believability.

he startles at the voice, even though there's no hint of threat in it. Peter notices Erwin proper after he hears him, because he doesn't have any spider senses to warn him about someone approaching. his grip on the doorknob is impossibly tight, glance delaying to the unexpected company before roaming back to the frosty winter village just in front of both of them.
)

So you see it too? ( Peter isn't sure it that makes him feel better or worse. he releases the door handle, suddenly, like it burned him. ) How can this be real? What is happening? ( if he sounds a little panicked, well, it's because he is a little panicked. how many bizarre and inexplicable things are going to happen to him in the span of a few days? wasn't being uprooted from his life and trapped here enough? )
thotsandprayers: (that's what I do what I live for to help)

[personal profile] thotsandprayers 2020-12-05 04:41 am (UTC)(link)
Of course, I wouldn't have offered otherwise.

[She's more than happy to place a few of those with her so they don't break.]

I don't believe we live on the same street, but I doubt it's too far out of my way, so I'm happy to help.

[Besides, she thinks it's best to get to know everyone. Or as close to everyone as she possibly can, anyways. They're all in this together, or something like that!]
sunborne: (382. - 🧭 - OH WOW.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-05 04:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ daylight grins in response, the question-and-answer bit never getting old for him: ]

Daylight. I'm Daylight vis Lornlit. It's nice to meet you!

And, you know- I've seen others write to Santa Claus to ask for something. Maybe it won't hurt to ask for that. I bet people are asking Santa a lot of weirder things. [ for example: ] Opted to write to him myself but if only to double the chances of my, hm, wife getting what she asked for. Never hurts to try.

[ hmm... judging by the skeptical tone in his voice as he addresses his, erm, partner(?), daylight isn't sure how to tackle this aspect of the situation: finding himself tied to someone else in terms of a family unit. it isn't lost on him how quick he's getting used to having a human body but is still tripping up on how to address agatha when talking about her with someone else. ]
webdesigned: (175)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-05 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
( look, dude. mood. he doesn't want to be here either. festivity? not his strong suit. also, he's Jewish!! why can't he be brought to Hannukah Village? yes he knows that's not a thing, it's just the principle of the matter. is Judiasm not acceptable in 1960s Stepford-Vibes California?? not the point, okay, moving on.

fact of the matter is, it's bad enough to be here with no obvious way of leaving. it's bad enough to be dragged away from his life and his city and his aunt. and now he's being forced to be merry for a holiday he barely celebrates with a magical door to Festive Narnia opening just about everywhere? it's a lot. too much, maybe.

actually, no, someone slapping hot chocolate out of his hands is too much, turns out. he just realized it this instant. Peter has no superpowers to see it coming, or do anything but let it happen. the mug falls harmlessly in the snow (WHY is there snow??? it's California), but not without residual splash damage of liquid chocolate. Peter is an incredibly easy going kid, most of the time, but it's far from impossible to get on his nerves. his annoyance is obvious, and immediate.
)

Hey, dickhead, how about "no" next time? That works just as well and neither of us get hot chocolate on our shoes.
handycapable: (██ 𝟘𝟞𝟛.)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
Uh huh. Much.

[ Bruce's agility would be impressive anyway, but because Ray is a spy he's able to appreciate it even more for what it really is, which is... well, a practiced, well-honed and finessed kind of training, not just your every day gym rat.

Ray balances carefully on his feet, hand still on Bruce's shoulder -- then dropping neatly against the crook of his arm -- to help stay braced while he reaches for where his cane has fallen and tests the ground with it to make sure he won't slip again. He probably won't, but continues holding onto Bruce's arm anyway, because better safe than sorry?
]

Nice reflexes. You're not an undercover cop or nothin', are you?
thevalley: (jesus christ hot sauce christmas cake)

[personal profile] thevalley 2020-12-05 05:01 am (UTC)(link)
[At first, she's about to push the knife in deeper. She missed a fatal artery but it's enough to cause damage and then... Ray is saying something.

Oh fuck, he knows this guy. Shit. She fucked up. She yanks her knife out of Archer completely unceremoniously, probably causing more damage then just leaving it in, and kicks him away before she backs herself up against the wall. She looks between Ray and Archer, eyes still slightly wild but considering the idea of being calm.]


I would have shot you if I could, asshole.

[She turns a half glance to Ray.]

Who the fuck is this?
Edited 2020-12-05 05:03 (UTC)
interdicted: (pic#14489671)

[personal profile] interdicted 2020-12-05 05:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ "Inadequate analysis." It's on the tip of his tongue, but Wolfe swallows the words—in his own world, he might know those answers. He would have enough knowledge about the history and the political structure of the area to be able to infer the relationships between the Mayor and his law enforcement. Here, however, he does not.

He might infer, but he cannot know. ]


Possible, but not probable. No alcohol is available tonight, nor is there any in the village he claims credit for. Alcohol-free versions are available. What does that tell us?

[ That not providing alcohol is intentional. ]

If the mayor's power was certain, Harding wouldn't be drinking. The threat of retribution would be too high. [ Since he follows the mayor to these ceremonies, there may be some risk of retribution or loyalty, but not enough that Harding isn't willing to operate on his own terms. ] Similarly, if Harding's loyalty were absolute, he wouldn't undermine Clarke by drinking at an event where he'll be a public face.

[ And if the man were truly an alcoholic, a mayor with absolute power would have forced him to correct the problem, Wolfe speculates. ]
catlady: (Default)

[personal profile] catlady 2020-12-05 05:10 am (UTC)(link)
Just a hop, skip, and a jump away, you know. You don't have to be a stranger, Bat. I'm still... [ she catches herself, not really sure what they are when saying something like "your non-legally binding, We-Believe-In-Something-Higher-Than-The-Law wife" just sort of sounds stupid outloud. ] If you felt like taking the cape and cowl off some time, I could even get take-out and we could have dinner with Maggie. I bet she'd like that. As for Mr. Ardankin, while we're still here, he's... he'll get used to it.

[ she gives his hand a gentle squeeze, pulling him along as she picks up the pace a little. that december chill is really starting to settle in and all the mood of their conversation seems to be weighing them down. ]

You don't have to be a stranger.
handycapable: (going to bleep those I hope)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 05:11 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ray leans against the wall a bit to get his balance back properly, nodding and giving a dismissive don't worry about it sort of flap with his wrist before he leans his weight back on his cane.

And just kind of, discreetly try to replace the rod in his arm where it belongs, since he wasn't getting anywhere with that lock anyway.
]

Oh, I'm fine, these ol' bones have taken plenty of worse tumbles. I thought you might've been that drunken bear of a police chief for a second. [ He smiles a little tightly, but then looks in the indicated direction. ] Guess we'd better keep looking, then.
webdesigned: (276)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-05 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
( Peter does not wake up at the asscrack of dawn. often he's awake then, but not because he wants to be. it's because some crisis in Midtown means he only barely beat sunrise to crawl into bed. when he does sleep, it is never well. has to do with spider senses that don't turn off, even when his head hits the pillow.

it's practically a reasonable time to wake when he finally does. he feels both exhausted and like he's slept for ages all at once. the world blurs around him, and it takes an uncomfortably long time to realize it's because he's not wearing his glasses. an idea that already feels wrong, as he hasn't needed glasses for years now. a pair were carefully settled next to his bed, and Peter puts them on, but honestly things are hardly more clear once he can actually see. because he's in a different bedroom, in a different place, wearing actual pajamas, again. and distinctly still not where he needs to be, which is home. New York. and not...

well, he doesn't know where this is. it still feels like a dream, as he drags out of bed and slowly wanders down the stairs. he collects one of the family pictures from the wall as he goes, blearily staring at faces he doesn't recognize. which is weird in and of itself, because he could swear he did this and that the picture was different last time. is he still sleeping? is this a hellish Inception multi-leveled dream?? if so, how does he wake up, he's definitely ready to not be in suburbia.

he still has the picture in hand when he aimlessly finds the kitchen, and startles immediately to find someone in it. the picture spirals helplessly in the air, and because Peter does not have spider senses or spider reaction speeds, he fumbles with it two or three times before he barely manages to catch it.
)

Holy — ( Peter doesn't swear, so however he was going to finish that sentence is immediately stifled. he swallows, recognizing the guy behind the glower as the one in the pictures. one often next to him, ruffling his hair or a hand on his shoulder or some other fatherly pose that makes Peter uncomfortable to face him now. but what choice does he have, unless he wants to immediately leave this situation? )

Um. Hi? ( a solid start. way to conversation, kid. )
the_caped_crusader: (Default)

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-05 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
I don't mean to be. I just don't want to...

[ '...put you in danger.' he stops before he finishes that, knowing how annoyed she'll be to hear that again, even after the conversations they've had recently about him using that as an excuse. he pivots. ]

Nevermind. We're still a few blocks away. Can I give you my coat?
freeflight: (008)

Checkin’ It Twice

[personal profile] freeflight 2020-12-05 05:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ Taking a look around in places they weren’t welcome only made sense, though it had started looking risky once he’d gotten far enough. Taking high risks for low possible rewards hadn’t been part of Levi’s orders, so he’d been backtracking to avoid trouble right around the time he saw someone messing with one of the doors.

Dealing with some kid wasn’t really part of his orders either, but it had to figure there was a chance that someone acting out line wasn’t one of the creepy assholes. Had to watch out for each other, didn’t they? It’s not that he plans on getting the drop on Peter like he does either, but, well...
]

Quiet. You could do worse than piss yourself out here. [ Voice kept low, calm. He pauses briefly as he cants his head, listening for footsteps. ] You’ll want to get moving.
handycapable: (have you heard my gay jesus theory?)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 05:19 am (UTC)(link)
No, I don't think so. Eggs aren't really the easiest food to poison, lucky for us... cuz, y'know, you'd have to get through the shell first, which is no easy feat. [ A pause, then he begrudgingly adds: ] We had a lotta chickens around when I was growing up, so I've just about seen it all.

[ Ray leans back against the counter, scooping up one of the two egg plates and digging into his with an experimental bite. The sight of the jello mold makes his nose wrinkle, and be thankful again it wasn't the only thing in the fridge. He'd still eat it if he was desperate, but... ]

We can probably just throw that nasty ol' thing out, though.
the_caped_crusader: (Default)

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-05 05:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ he offers a reticent smile, and doesn't bother to shake ray off. not an undercover cop, no, but capable in his own way. certainly aware enough to know when he's being hit on-- brucie has been known to draw in all kinds over the years. a good way to get information, were he so inclined. ]

I hope not, I'm sure you've seen the police patrolling around here by now. Still, I feel like we're all playing undercover a little bit given the situation.
webdesigned: (162)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-05 05:25 am (UTC)(link)
( yeah, being uncomfortable about a stranger offering you a drink? totally fair. Peter is from New York, honestly, he should know better. it's just that it's hot chocolate, and he's so sentimental about the drink that he feels bad throwing it away. despite the fact he absolutely can't drink it.

the guy takes it, but it's clear there's reservations. who knew that someone else out there had emotional hangups about a festive chocolate drink.
)

Peter. Peter's fine. ( he doesn't feel young, and always feels weird when referred to as young man. like he's in trouble. ) Thanks. I just... can't drink it, that's all. But I don't want it to go to waste.
webdesigned: (185)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-05 05:30 am (UTC)(link)
( Peter frowns, pulling his fingers through his hair, which ... does not make it any less messy. it only seems to stand up higher for the intrusion. it's a nervous habit, though, he's not thinking about it. it doesn't matter that much, does it? he is definitely not blending in with the crowd, despite the fact he has to wear period appropriate clothes that he found in a closet that was supposed to be his. )

I have an opinion. But since I'm probably biased, I want to know someone else thinks that was weirdly threatening for a mayoral address. ( if this guy is a townie, then maybe he's in trouble for being so blunt. but just like Peter doesn't seem to blend in, this guy definitely doesn't seem like he's just another member of the bland Santa Rosita populace. )
handycapable: (strong words... strong bewildering words)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ray nods a bit more soberly, dividing his weight between Bruce and his cane so he's not leaning too hard on either one-- it is, too be fair, icy enough that Bruce is probably the safer support between the two. ]

Sure have, and you'd think a town this small wouldn't need so damn many skulkin' around all the time. Never a good sign, if you ask me.

[ He casts his gaze around the area briefly, expression turning briefly warier, dubious, before it settles more neutrally back on Bruce. Another nod, though he's careful with how he answers: ]

You too?
webdesigned: (161)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-05 05:42 am (UTC)(link)
( yeah, definitely not more comforting. Peter vaguely tries to think back, to his last memory of home. whether it could have turned farther south than he remembers, if that explanation could hold any water. he'd gotten a few licks in the fight with Rhino, but not enough to kill him. he'd definitely been hit harder before and managed to walk away from it. dying in his sleep at 19 with super genetics that refused to let any kind of illness or injury stick long would be pretty unusual. Peter doesn't remember dying, though maybe that's not really something you remember after it's over.

still, he's not sure he buys it. he takes an uncomfortable step away from the Christmas-scented mirage standing just in front of him, as if he gets far enough away from it maybe it'll be a normal door to a normal place and not a sudden portal to a snowy wonderland.
)

I really feel like I'd remember a religion that mentioned a Stepford Wives afterlife, dude. ( Peter isn't that religious, either, but he feels like that sort of afterlife option would be really memorable. no, he likes his dream theory better, even if that maybe means he's talking to his subconscious right now. Peter eyes said potential subconscious, then nods toward the door. ) Do you see the Christmas postcard, too, or am I just seriously losing it?
handycapable: (ex-squeeze me?)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 05:46 am (UTC)(link)
So...

[ Honestly, either possibility sounds about equally true, which makes Ray all the more stressed out with indecision. He's not necessarily a paranoid person, but as someone with his own experience-slash-trauma with weird, fucked-up tactics / mind-games meant to confuse or just fuck with people, and as someone who can already recognize how unusual their current situation is...

Yeah, who the fuck knows.
]

Then we should just leave, right? Before someone tries changin' our minds?