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?

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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 ◀
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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
feudalladyshandmaid: (Scheme)

[personal profile] feudalladyshandmaid 2020-12-15 11:10 am (UTC)(link)
Ahh. Smart. Lazy, but smart. [Not that she's going to call Sans on any laziness. It's not like she works here.] You're right, though. Nobody seems to mind how were enjoying the festivities. Just that we're taking part in them.
feudalladyshandmaid: (Hold it together)

[personal profile] feudalladyshandmaid 2020-12-15 11:14 am (UTC)(link)
[A moment is all Cass needs to regain her composure. Yup, just smile and wave at the locals. They're fine. Just a young woman and a girl having a chat on this cool Fall day.

Oh god she's still talking.
]

Yup. Tons and tons of normal things! Aha, listen to this kid.

[Just. Ever so gently nudges Kipo.]

Okay, that's enough. Don't oversell it.
feudalladyshandmaid: (Tea)

[personal profile] feudalladyshandmaid 2020-12-15 11:19 am (UTC)(link)
[She drifts away from the tables to follow, making sure to not look too conspicuous about it. It's all instinct, crafted over the years from attending numerous galas and parties as someone people didn't normally look at.]

The people here seem to eat it up. [Everyone loves a good speech. She quirks a brow.] What do you mean by "the score"?
sunborne: (389. - 🧭 - THINNING.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-15 12:37 pm (UTC)(link)
"They have their ways."

He tries to be vague in the way he says it - not to mention polite, no need to be rude to them just because he's suspicious of them - but the way Daylight looks around, the 'ways' are something he clearly does not want to be on the receiving end of.

"I don't think the loaner outfits are all that bad." He plucks at the one he's wearing, beaming a bit more sincerely now. There's something awfully jolly about the threads, after all. "Did you overhear the conversation she had with the HHA? Or see it? I'm pretty curious about their encounter now you've brought it up."
13thcommander: (deep sigh)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-15 01:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Who knows? The challenge might be part of the appeal.

[Good thing Erwin has never been very good at conformity.]

Is this your house?
13thcommander: (serious side-eye)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-15 01:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[Three concentric circles, but Erwin isn't going to correct her.]

Titans. Monsters ranging from three to fifteen meters with a taste for human flesh.

[A pause.]

They look like us. They were like us, until something changed them.
13thcommander: (Default)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-15 01:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you.

[Erwin would have (politely) just barged in anyway, but it's good to have permission from both members of the household now.]

The same extends to you, for my house, since we're right next door to each other. In fact...

[He shoulders his tote bag and offers her his arm.]

If you're headed that way, may I walk you home?

[Not that he thinks she needs his protection, she looks like someone who can take care of herself, but manners are important.]
13thcommander: (are you fucking serious)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-15 01:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Extremely weird.

[Erwin drums his fingers on the tabletop, annoyed with himself that he doesn't have this completely figured out yet.]

I don't know. But I intend to find out.
13thcommander: (slightly walleyed)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-15 01:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[Sans had Erwin eat tuna fish in gelatin with him, so maybe the characterization isn't entirely inaccurate?]

Well, you have quite the selection here to choose from.

[Sorry, the pun went right over Erwin's head.]

Are you looking for specific colors, or just the brightest ones you can find?
13thcommander: (yeah yeah tell me more)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-15 01:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Why wouldn't they want to share such a wonder with the people?

[Is this someone else from a terrible world? The more he talks to people around here, the more Erwin realizes how backwards his own world is, and it's almost a relief to find someone else from an unfriendly place.]

As have I. Not only electricity, but... everything. This place is far more advanced than my own world, and it's almost overwhelming, trying to learn everything at once.

[Erwin doesn't sound overwhelmed, because he's actually really enjoying the whole process. He has enough to eat, there aren't any titans around, and information flows much more freely than it did back home. He's been reading like a fiend, and it's surprising he hasn't run into Wolfe at the library already.]
13thcommander: (meh)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-15 01:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[Erwin glances where she's gestured, and he's not surprised to see another picture frame sitting there, with an image of the two of them inside.]

Yes. They're called photographs, I've heard, and are made using something called cameras.

[How that all works, he has no clue, but he knows the names.]

There are small levers on the back of the frame, if you want to get the photograph out. It's not a portrait, and I have no idea how we were recorded in one.
13thcommander: (looking down)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-15 01:51 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm afraid so.

[No point in trying to gild the lily, so to speak.]

I haven't found a shop here that offers warmer clothing, unless it's a costume.
sunborne: (413. - 🧭 - THE HELL.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-15 04:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[ daylight laughs again, more embarrassed this time around while he rubs the back of his neck. man, this guy is pretty sharp! and in more ways than one. most might have guessed or noted his age but none have ever outright said it before. ]

You got me there. I think I left home when I was... [ he cocks his head side to side like the answer will tumble out faster if he does so. gosh, it's been so long since he thought of his life before joining the lornful light.

he then makes a waving gesture with one hand, keeping the other lingering on the back of his neck. daylight is clearly trying to put on the facade of someone being super casual. it will not be difficult to see right through it. ]
Maybe fourteen-years-old, if I had to put an age? Thirteen at the least? Joined the starship proper when I was sixteen-years-old, the equivalent of it at least, and haven’t looked back since.

[ okay... time to do a transition! because, um, he can tell that information he gave is going to be alarming to some and would rather dodge it, for now. ] So! Space! What do you want to know about it exactly?

[ a smooth attempt to do a transition, surely. ]
sunborne: (412. - 🧭 - YEAH NO.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-15 05:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ daylight takes a deep breath and releases a bigger sigh, shrugging at the end as he manages a smile. ]

Okay. Beggars can't be choosers in this situation.

I got one request, though. We've got to find a hat. One that jingles and everything. [ because if daylight is going to look ridiculous, he's going to go all out and look flat-out ridiculous. ]
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (13)

[personal profile] blackscales 2020-12-15 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Hidden cameras! An ingenious idea worth of a goblin, and unfortunately entirely possible.

"I would certainly advise caution," he allows, and frowns curiously at the line of people queueing up for the trees. "Although it seems plenty hold no such concerns."
shalamayne: (Default)

[personal profile] shalamayne 2020-12-15 08:13 pm (UTC)(link)
There's a brief moment where Anduin worries that Wrathion isn't going to stop, but simply keep skating right off the rink and into a heap. Luckily for them both it's not the case and there are no qualms about grabbing Wrathion by the hand and helping him off the ice. Sometimes being helpful works better than being annoyed and the mention of frost wyrms gets a rueful smile.

"Of course, though I doubt any of those on the ice right now have any kind of elemental affinity."

It's all said good-naturedly and Anduin lets go of Wrathion, straightening his own jacket in a bid to stave off the cold. "Please lead the way, I am loathe to admit I am still finding my own way around this place."
ribticklers: (130)

no problem, it happens!

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-15 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, I don't exactly remember moving here. [Sans would like to think he'd wake up if he was being kidnapped.] But if it was random, you'd think they'd be more surprised to see us.
ribticklers: (123)

ketchup-flavored chips weren't invented until the 70s, a tragedy

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-15 08:32 pm (UTC)(link)
I'll share my chips if you want. [Does Papyrus want to share Sans's junk food...] Might bring soda, too. And some of that cheese in a can stuff.
ribticklers: (125)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-15 08:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[Sans is very happy to let Daylight handle this. He watches as the tree gets plonked on top of his car, still standing, and tied down, still standing.

It's amazing. It's glorious. It's beautiful.]


If the car would fit in the garage like that I think I'd just leave it up there.
ribticklers: (130)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-15 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, they're pretty insistent on that part. [All this teleportation--somebody really wants them to see this Christmas village. Sans makes no objection to being called lazy, of course.] It'd probably be easier if they'd just tell us the rules around here, but I guess they want us to figure 'em out.
ribticklers: (133)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-15 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Yup. [103 Loomis Drive! Right now, it doesn't look like much. Later, there will be a decoration war, but right now, it's just like every other house on the block.] Unless they move everybody around again, I guess. [That was weird. All of October occupies a weird, not-quite-dreamstate for Sans, really.]
righthandstand: (I'm so lost)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2020-12-15 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"A boring party, that's what! The food's not that great either and there nothin' to do."

Boredom: worse than studying for exams. Okuyasu crosses his arms an peers at Huaisang, humming. He seems like a decent dude, trying to find something to do.

"How about we ditch this place? They won't let me go anywhere alone since I'm a kid to pretty much everyone here," he adds with plenty of bitterness at the sudden limits imposed on him.
righthandstand: (think think think)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2020-12-15 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)
It's like...

[He holds his hands out, measuring the rough length of a party-sized meatloaf.]

Bread, but not the tasty kind they make with butter and stuff. It's like a bunch of meat ground into something that looks like really dark bread, only these people make it dry and taste like whatever weird stuff they're puttin' into it.

It's garbage, man.
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (11)

[personal profile] blackscales 2020-12-15 10:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Well that hardly applies, but Wrathion doesn't necessarily know if he trusts his new companion enough yet to reveal he is not as human as he might look. ]

You expect me to simply tell a stranger how I might be bound?

[ Who would do that! ]

Tell me. The locations you named are unfamiliar. What do you call the world you are from? Are you familiar with the Old Gods?
Edited (no i wanted this icon) 2020-12-15 22:40 (UTC)
catlady: (Default)

[personal profile] catlady 2020-12-16 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ she responds with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulder. ]

I don't know, wouldn't want your father getting angry with me...

[ actually, she wouldn't mind that, but that's a whole other thing. wouldn't be the first young girl bruce has taken under his batwing that she's gotten her claws into.

she pushes away from the wall, reaching into the perfectly coifed curls on her head to pull out one of the hairpins and straighten it. selina ducks her head as she approaches the door, kneeling in front of it. ]


I don't even have my tools...