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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 ◀
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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
spaghettimonster: (HUMAN: COLLEGE)

It's probably a cheese sandwich, I just wanna know from the mods if they ARE reset to newly moved in

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2020-12-05 07:17 am (UTC)(link)
[Papyrus doesn't even blink at the removal and examination of the photo, busy heading to the kitchen for food prep. It would be much ruder if they were photos Papyrus had any emotional attachment to, rather than what feels like the decorations of an unexpectedly rented hotel room... and he wants the fortitude of something to eat for this conversation. So he calls out from the kitchen:]

Yes, roommate and also mysteriously wife! At least, according to the photos. And paperwork... But she's like us, I think.

[Not in the sense of being a monster turned human, exactly, but in being mysteriously here instead of somewhere else.]
petsthedog: (pic#12824059)

[personal profile] petsthedog 2020-12-05 07:21 am (UTC)(link)
Ain't exactly sporting to stab a guy who can barely stand. Besides, if you were really here to hurt us, punching would be easier. Y'know what a pain in the ass cleaning up all that blood would be?

[.........hm. He's just going to quietly not think about that "us" he just said. He doesn't care about that Takame guy. It's not like he's actually his dad or something. Whatever.]

Do you want the coffee or not?
ribticklers: (130)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-05 07:21 am (UTC)(link)
[Yeah, it's definitely weird to hear "wife". But it's not real, so Sans isn't going to dwell on it too seriously.] Can't believe you didn't invite me to the wedding. But I guess I didn't invite you to mine, either, so. [So Sans now has someone living at his house, too! And Sans being married is way weirder than it being Papyrus. He drops the picture on a table as he follows Papyrus to the kitchen.]
spaghettimonster: (HUMAN: YORICK)

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2020-12-05 07:22 am (UTC)(link)
A lot of trouble, making really high quality photos... but they couldn't bother to bring my bed. Not very convincing!

[Or any of his personal belongings and effects, things that would really sell the sense of this being home. Instead, it feels like he's been plopped into someone else's life.

...Especially since it's not even his own body. He prods at his face again, then tries smoothing the curls back from his forehead.]


Do you... feel like you? Uhh. You know. Your mood! And memories, and everything.

[There's no good way to subtly ask if someone's usually in a different body, or missing magic powers, is there?]
thotsandprayers: (is to become a human yourself)

[personal profile] thotsandprayers 2020-12-05 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
At the risk of sounding ungrateful to our hosts, it may raise things a bit higher than a three.

[Maybe not to a ten on the awful kidnapping scale, but with that combination of ingredients, maybe up to a five?]
handycapable: (in case you need to outline a body)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 07:30 am (UTC)(link)
We just call those roosters. [ A little country humor there, don't mind him. ] They don't lay eggs.

[ Ray takes another forkful, chewing thoughtfully (they're a little overdone, but not awful, given the circumstances) with an eyebrow raised as he watches her with wary curiosity. ]

What do you like, then? Since eventually you're gonna hafta eat something, you know.
ribticklers: (134)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-05 07:31 am (UTC)(link)
[Sans chuckles.] Pretty sure I can see bacon and shrimp in there, but I can't figure out what they're using to hold that stuff in. [A very dangerous meal... Sans is gonna take a bite, though!

...The expression he makes is indescribable. He downs a whole cup of punch in one go.]


Wow, mayo and pineapple. Together.
petsthedog: (pic#12817795)

[personal profile] petsthedog 2020-12-05 07:33 am (UTC)(link)
Full of it.

[Seriously, who allowed this and why.]

Would be nice if there was at least a portal back.

[He's halfway tempted to just say fuck it and camp out in "Santa's" workshop until this bullshit is over, with what a pain it is to walk back to his house each time.]
petsthedog: (pic#12823737)

[personal profile] petsthedog 2020-12-05 07:38 am (UTC)(link)
Like...snow from the ground? Or more a shaved ice sort of deal?

[Please say a shaved ice sort of deal. He's not entirely sure this is sanitary...]
ribticklers: (130)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-05 07:40 am (UTC)(link)
Where am I gonna get shaved ice? [Yeah, it's snow from the ground.]
petsthedog: (pic#12827256)

cw for reference to suicidal feelings

[personal profile] petsthedog 2020-12-05 08:17 am (UTC)(link)
[For his part, Shinjiro mostly just resents finding himself alive here when he was supposed to be done with everything by now. So far, the absence of the Dark Hour or the Shadows have made it a less terrible place to live than where he came from, but he doesn't trust it in the least. There's another shoe that's dropping any day now.

He blinks when the older man offers him the cider, as if uncertain, before he tentatively reaches out to take it. The heat coming out of the cup even before drinking it is pretty nice, he has to admit.]


Uh, thanks.
handycapable: (██ 𝟘𝟛𝟠.)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 08:35 am (UTC)(link)
Sure thing. You'd think they coulda at least given us all some more warning, right?

[ He says it dryly though, like he fully knows that's far too much to expect from this town or their strange hosts, but Ray is adaptable enough that he can handle going along with the absurdity -- either somewhat genuinely or if only because they seem to have little choice in the matter -- while also trying to make sense of it.

Kind of par for the course for a spy, except for all the troublingly (or at least seemingly) impossible aspects of this situation.
]

Not that it's all that cold, really, but where's there's snow there's frostbite, and no one wants that. 'Specially not right around the holidays.
handycapable: (subjugated yet honored)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 08:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ray puts his hand to his chest appreciatively as Huaisang twirls for him, nodding again in agreement. It's a very charming look, which helps distract Ray slightly from the bizarre unreality of the whole situation-- if nothing else he at least has the style, the trends, the fashion of the era to look forward to, assuming he won't stick out like a sore thumb among all the buttoned-up businessmen and suburban dads around.

No, he definitely will, but there's not really much Ray can do about that, is there? If not the men, the housewives around the neighborhood might make for better company anyway.
]

Gorgeous, honey. Just gorgeous. Have you lived here very long?
handycapable: (I'm sobering up so my mood's in shift)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 09:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ray wrinkles his nose slightly, both vaguely put-out and annoyed at the same time -- not everyone can stay so effortlessly slender or vaguely androgynous, Crowley -- but it doesn't last, dismissed within moments as Ray takes Crowley's arm (so there) as they head into the bustling department store. ]

Well I hope so. Normally around this time of year I'd probably go for something in a brown or maybe a navy, if I wanted more than your standard black, but... [ A sigh. ] We'll just see what they even have.
petsthedog: (pic#12817793)

[personal profile] petsthedog 2020-12-05 09:11 am (UTC)(link)
Unless the point is to screw with us.

[Which he strongly suspects, considering the whole ... fake sitcom family bullshit they woke up to. He lets the vapor from the cider warm his face a few moments longer before taking slow sips.]

The cold wouldn't be so bad if I had my damn coat.

[He's so mad about that coat, it's served him especially well these past couple years he's lived on the streets....huffs.]
petsthedog: (pic#12827142)

[personal profile] petsthedog 2020-12-05 09:21 am (UTC)(link)
I dunno, wherever the rest of this crap came from?

[Squints...]

Ain't you worried about people gettin' sick?
ribticklers: (132)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-05 09:26 am (UTC)(link)
I made sure it was white snow. [It's fine.]
handycapable: (██ 𝟘𝟙𝟞.)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 09:30 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, I think that goes without saying...

[ Ray's "wife" seems like a nice enough (if slightly scary) girl and all, but...... well, suffice it to say there are multiple issues with that premise. ]

But compared to the kinda cold I'm used to, this really ain't so bad. [ Ray offers over his scarf, since he can spare it. ] We probably oughta at least find you some boots, though.
the_caped_crusader: (Default)

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-05 09:37 am (UTC)(link)
You won't find an argument from me. I can think of a few ways to keep you warm. Not to mention, I pushed those two dumb twin beds together already.

[ he scoffs a little, smiling down as he slips the peacoat from around his shoulders and over across hers. she's right, you know. all that training? even if it did bother him, he learned to shut it out a long time ago. besides, he'd do anything for her. ]

Come on, we're not far now.
the_caped_crusader: (Default)

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-05 09:41 am (UTC)(link)
Mm. You know what they say about small towns and dark secrets.

[ he gives a cursory glance around as well, supposing that it would appear rather idyllic if not for the kinds of worlds they both came from. ]

But yes. I don't think we would all be here if we didn't have something to offer, though that seems contrary to the way they want us all to act.
shalamayne: (22)

[personal profile] shalamayne 2020-12-05 09:45 am (UTC)(link)
[ Sometimes a non-answer is enough. At the very least Anduin isn't offended when no response is offered to his question; if the other person is in the same boat then voicing it out loud to a strange probably isn't the best.]

I do not know those but they do sound interesting. That is a lot of celebrations.

[ The question gets only the briefest hesitation before Anduin gives a small smile. Best not to.]

Out of town.
shalamayne: (26)

[personal profile] shalamayne 2020-12-05 09:51 am (UTC)(link)
Message received. Anduin knows he's in the same boat when it comes to timing and despite the inability to hold a frank conversation, he can at least assume they are from the same time. Otherwise the implications are even more worrisome in this place. Wrathion gets a small, thoughtful nod.

"It is a very clever village and a sight to behold." Not that Anduin wants to behold anything in this strange world he's found himself in. Everything is strange and there's been no sign of an exit so far. If Wrathion is here then it also means that the exit is all the more elusive — if there's one thing the dragon is good at in Anduin's opinion, it's making a hasty exit.

"The timing of this event could have been bette — !" Anduin abruptly cuts off as his feet try to escape out from underneath him. It's only a split second but enough to have the young King flail once before finding his center of gravity again. Ice, always a fickle thing, there was a reason why Jaina preferred it. "... Could have been better."
handycapable: (WELL! I gotta go to therapy now)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 09:57 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ray will give credit where it's due in terms of atmosphere and aesthetic, the town does -- on a very superficial level -- have that wholesome charm you'd expect to see on an old sitcom or Hallmark Christmas special, but in a way that of course only makes how jarringly out of place he (and the other 'newcomers' like him) feel all the more obvious.

And, well, vaguely ominous.
]

Somethin' to offer like what? [ He raises his eyebrow, curious. ] I was thinkin' maybe it was like somethin' outta Stepford Wives, except that still wouldn't explain how we all got here...
feudalladyshandmaid: (Stare)

[personal profile] feudalladyshandmaid 2020-12-05 09:59 am (UTC)(link)
[Oh. Oh, this is definitely a child trying to keep a low profile. She can recognize that almost instantly.

Cass watches her for a brief and awkward moment, half-glancing in case there are other, less-noticeable eyes on her. Doesn't seem to be the case.
]

Uh... No. I'm not from... wherever this is. [???] Are you from Corona, too?
catlady: (😏 haces todo lo que diga yeah)

[personal profile] catlady 2020-12-05 10:00 am (UTC)(link)
[ oh, she can pretty much hear him in her head talking about some mean, little old man who made him sit in the rain and snow in the buff for days at a time or something just as awful and miserable. she loves all the stupid stories he tells where he's trying to prove how tough and/or badass he is.

she pulls the coat around herself tightly, burrowing into it easily as she tries to warm herself back up. selina smiles when he, y'know, actually flirts back a little, it's always cute to see him try. she leans in to press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before he gets away from her, immediately turning back around to charge on ahead. ]


Yeah, c'mon, slowpoke. You're holding us up.

[ he's holding them up. him. just a few more blocks until they find themselves at his doorstep. ]