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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?

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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?

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THE MAYOR HAS INVITED YOU...

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

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

That might be a bad idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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OOC INFO

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

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

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

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

Any questions can go in our FAQ thread below. Try to check and see if your question has already been answered on the plotting thread first here.

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

▶ NAVIGATION ◀
COMMS logs | network | ooc | memes
OOC INFO premise | rules | faq | taken | applications | hiatus/drop/canon updates | activity check | reserves | mod contact
SETTING INFO calendar | setting | housing | npcs | death and tranquilizing | event suggestions/engagements
undiagnosed: (pic#14468754)

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2020-12-05 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Sounds a little like this place. Other than, you know, in China.

[so... likely not like this, at all. archer's picturing a quaint town with pagodas and densely packed downtown areas.]

Yeah? Lucky him. Hey, I know a guy that might be interested in enabling some adultery. You want his number?
Edited 2020-12-05 17:47 (UTC)
fanoperator: (giggle)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2020-12-05 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)
It's nothing like this place. Qinghe is a great fortress-city amidst much taller mountains, and much of the palace emerges from the mountain itself, with hallways that tunnel deep into the rock. [His home is metal as fuck and Huaisang is immensely proud of it, despite how he often complains about the austerity of it at home.

The offer startles him into a laugh, which he hides behind his hand, dissolving into giggles. It takes him a minute to recover, but he nods once he does. He's not in Qinghe, and while this place has many of its own dangers, Huaisang sees no reason not to have fun as long as he's careful about it.]
Yes, please.
undiagnosed: (pic#14468734)

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2020-12-05 06:03 pm (UTC)(link)
God damn.

[archer isn't really a tourist, but he doesn't hate traveling and seeing incredible cultural achievements, either. he just considers traveling for work and actually going on his own time two different things, and he almost never gets to go on his own time.

though... he does do whatever he wants when he goes for work, so...

anyway:]
Here, it's Ray Gillette. Hard g. He's pretty into Asian culture, so he'd probably want to talk to you about all that stuff anyway.

[YOU OWE HIM BIG FOR THIS, RAY.]
fanoperator: (wei xiong!!)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2020-12-05 06:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, I've met him! He liked my dress. [Huaisang grins cheerfully at having Ray Gilette recommended to him. Small world. Or, well, small neighborhood in this case.] I appreciate the recommendation and I will inquire with him about adulterous activities right away.

If I meet any adulterously-inclined housewives, I'll be sure to recommend them to you in return. I haven't yet had the opportunity to meet any of the other housewives. Just the local ones who make every food with gelatin. I joined one of their book clubs.
handycapable: (WELL! I gotta go to therapy now)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 06:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ray nods a little slowly, remembering October in a sort of surreal, dreamy way, like the end of the Wizard of Oz, but he decides to just keep things simple. ]

Yeah. Just woke up here not an hour ago. Everything's totally different from how I remember it bein' in October, though... [ What he does remember, that is. ] Feels more like I just dreamed the whole thing, except we're still here, so that probably doesn't even make any sense.
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (6)

[personal profile] blackscales 2020-12-05 06:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Well. ]

I suppose that technically does fit the description.

[ He can't take that away from him.

He looks begrudgingly at the snow cone. It would likely have been more enjoyable minus the snow. Still. He's paid this person money, if he can't get an enjoyable drink out of him he can get something else. ]


Tell me, have you lived in Santa Rosita long?
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (13)

[personal profile] blackscales 2020-12-05 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"A few short days ago. I find it quite unique, myself."

The customs aren't totally dissimilar, but the people? Very strange. The arrival, too. The inability to leave. He makes a rather grand, dismissive gesture with one hand.

"You may call me Wrathion."

No titles for now, since they do little good here anyway. Either people recognise the name or they don't, and if they don't then referring to himself as The Black Prince won't help anything.
fanoperator: (don't be angry)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2020-12-05 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)
It makes sense to me. [Huaisang shrugs, looking helpless.] In that same sort of... I know how you feel about it not making any sense. I had a different house, a different husband, but it was all crafted as though it had always been that way, and now it's crafted as though it's always been this way. It'll probably all be different again in another month.

[He scrapes his teeth worriedly over his lower lip.] Maybe we should talk more inside.
handycapable: (anyway she's suing me)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 06:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Right, exactly! [ He gestures enthusiastically with his hand. ] Same here, for me it was mostly just like this, only for a different holiday and with different people. Like a-- I dunno, a premonition or somethin'. Not that I believe in those.

[ Anyway, he's getting carried away, nodding and stepping back up towards the porch. ]

God, where are my manners? Sure, come on inside. You want some tea or anything?
fanoperator: (alert)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2020-12-05 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
It's too similar to be just a premonition. Too strange in an identical way to before.

[Following after Gillette into the house, Huaisang looks around curiously. It's very similar to his own house, in a way that makes it feel anonymous. None of them have yet been able to make these places their own, and perhaps doing so would be dangerous.]

Tea would be wonderful, thank you.

Were you there... at the end? The vegetable lanterns and the undead children?
hoshikiri: (jinpu.)

[personal profile] hoshikiri 2020-12-05 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
... I see. [Seeing that noncommittal sigh gave Takame more reason to relax. If this man had any intent to do him harm, he would have. And he was much younger, if Takame wanted he could put a stop to it.

But Takame wouldn't harm a young, unarmed man. A long since orphaned one, it would seem.]


I'll not ask you to leave, but nor will I bar your way. If my presence causes you discomfort, I will stay out of your way. A bed means just as little to me. [A pause to take a look around the unknown home, the clothes he wore that he didn't remember putting on and the back of his hand, still scarred but without scales or tough nails. He's suddenly overcome with deja vu, like he's seen this once before... one or two moons past...]

If I may ask... what is the last thing you remember hearing before you found yourself here?
hoshikiri: (hakaze.)

[personal profile] hoshikiri 2020-12-05 07:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[That's the wrong thing to say to someone who's offering hospitality. And well over 6 feet tall and built to break arms. Not that it got more out of Takame than a quirk of his brow.]

I didn't intend to. [He crossed his arms, leaning against the door he shut behind them and patiently awaiting whatever realization this man had with a tilt of his head.

Being called the "father of the house" made him avert his eyes as if it would make the topic go away.]


I... suppose I am. Why do you ask?
undiagnosed: (pic#14468713)

cw mild transphobia in brackets

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2020-12-05 07:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Huh.

[small world! small, strange world. maybe huaisang is like crowley? archer doesn't really care to give these guys and their weird dress sense or however they identify much thought; he hardly has the braincells to spare, anyway. ray's problem now.]

That's... actually kind of cool of you. Am I being filmed? Are you about to punk me?
handycapable: (can you ever just be whelmed?)

[personal profile] handycapable 2020-12-05 07:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ray would still love the opportunity to more of his own touch around the place, decorate, have dinner parties, put up photos of actual memories... all the normal things people do in a family home like this, even if that's really not the way he should be thinking.

Hard not to though, if only a little. It would be such a perfect fantasy life if it could actually belong to them.

He gestures for Huaisang to have a seat, then limps over to put the kettle on before joining him in the sitting room.
]

What, the zombies? Boy do I remember those. I mean, I think they mostly left my place alone, but I definitely had people runnin' up cuz they all wanted shelter or some shit. [ He lights a cigarette, getting stressed just from the memory. ] How was it for you?
undiagnosed: (pic#14468631)

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2020-12-05 07:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Way ahead of you. [he takes his flask out, waving it a little at sans, then takes a sip from it.] First thing I did when I woke up.

[.........okay not LITERALLY first, but you know.]
spaghettimonster: (HUMAN: YORICK)

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2020-12-05 07:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Is it...?

[Papyrus absently scratches at his chin, thinking back to gatherings around the tree in Gyftmas. The little kids were the most excitable there, the most eager to receive presents... but little kids are the most excitable generally.]

Well, if it is... I guess that's because, adults are embarrassed to ask for what they really want. And teenagers are embarrassed about everything.

[No offense meant.]
fanoperator: (some questions)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2020-12-05 07:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Punk you? [Huaisang blinks at him, utterly bewildered again. Clearly this man is back to speaking in code, but Huaisang doesn't know how to translate it.] I don't understand, what is 'filmed'?
monomachy: insomniatic @ dw (cheap thrills)

[personal profile] monomachy 2020-12-05 07:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[Diana offers a warm smile, making sure they're both going to stay on their feet before letting go.]

Well, we can't have that. I'm glad I got here in time. Skating is just as tricky as I remember.
fanoperator: (scared pout)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2020-12-05 07:52 pm (UTC)(link)
About the same. I had one of the lanterns, because I thought they were fun and everyone here is so insistent about being festive and taking part in the holiday. I'm glad I had enough extra candles to keep it lit through the night. It was terrifying.

[He's seen cigarettes now--that unnerving commercial from October had them--but it still unnerves him to have a lit ember so close to one's face. No one here seems to use proper pipes, and Huaisang misses those. What he'd give for a little opium right now...]

And then the calendar says there was a month called November, but I have no memory of that at all.

It leaves me frightened for what may come at the end of this month.
hoshikiri: (third eye.)

[personal profile] hoshikiri 2020-12-05 08:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[Takame would agree. His experiences weren't exactly objective fact, especially not in this realm. He's just noticed some few consistencies with towns and cities like this.

Man ever falls into the same pattern.]


Harding and Clarke may have some sort of agreement that leaves him to his drink in exchange for his loyalty. Or the townspeople may not acknowledge the habit for fear of disrupting the routine. [He shook his head. He was facing the other man but his eyes were scanning their surroundings for possible eavesdroppers. His bangs were long enough that anyone watching them from the sides wouldn't notice he was looking their way.]

Without speaking with them or utilizing stealth there is too little information to be certain.
shalamayne: (2-1)

[personal profile] shalamayne 2020-12-05 08:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Ice hurts, Anduin remembers that from a time when he'd learned to skate. Every time he'd fallen down it had felt as if he'd broken something but his father had been there to not only lend a hand but give some kind of a talk on always getting back up.

He'd rather not fall over right now and break an arm, Anduin has no idea what the healthcare in this place is like and his healing spells are.... well, it's not a good thought.

"It would be better however I believe we can hold a conversation as we skate." No-one would listen in with two people skating? It makes sense to Anduin, though maybe a part of him wants to see Wrathion flailing about for once.
spaghettimonster: (HUMAN: EYEROLL)

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2020-12-05 08:05 pm (UTC)(link)
I know, what was I thinking! We'll just have to invite you to the renewal ceremony. [If... they have one. If they stick around long enough, and actually get romancey, and everything else entailed in such a thing.

Papyrus grimaces at the notion of this topic being anything more than bantering, and busies himself grabbing things - his lunch unguarded on the table, with no signs of bites taken yet.]


But really. Do you know what's going on??? I had weird dreams, and they don't seem like they were real... but, parts were definitely real. We're just human, I guess??
monomachy: wondie @ dw (uprising)

[personal profile] monomachy 2020-12-05 08:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[Rapunzel isn't the only person excited to be here, so Diana doesn't pay her much mind until she speaks up about the trees. She shakes her head slightly at the "trees," then turns to face the young woman standing nearby.]

Because it's the fashion right now. An unfortunate one, too.
monomachy: hollow-art.com (bones)

[personal profile] monomachy 2020-12-05 08:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[Though her senses aren't what they should be, she still has a keen ear and hears someone moving towards her. She angles her body towards whoever it is, eyes drifting away from the stained glass so she can see them. Yes, she recognizes him; she's seen him on around the neighborhood, and can only assume he's been somehow displaced like the rest of them.

Her gaze drops to the bag at this side, and she smiles to herself. The books here aren't exactly brand new, but there are certainly plenty worth reading. His question doesn't surprise her; there aren't many people who speak Latin, considering it's a dead language. A shame, really. It's beautiful. She moves towards the glass, drawing a finger under the words as she translates.]


"Wisdom and truth, be thy sword and shield."

[They're words that hits close to home for her, and brings her some amount of comfort.]

A strange phrase to put in the children's section, don't you think?