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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 ◀
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
webdesigned: (183)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-30 11:43 pm (UTC)(link)
( Peter can't help but turn a little red at her teasing. there's plenty of reasons for it — first, being called out as a terrible liar is at least a bit embarrassing. the whole how i raised you thing, because it's super uncomfortable to have not-parents when you're an orphan. also, she's incredibly gorgeous, which is... awkward on another level. Peter isn't used to having a mom, much less a hot mom. it's been taking some getting used to.

actually, that implies he's gotten used to it even a little. Peter has not gotten used to it whatsoever.
)

S-sorry? ( is he sorry? should he really apologize for not being good at lying? also, ) Are you... judging my ability to lie right now? ( is that's what is happening? well, Aunt May would never do that for sure. does a great job of differentiating his new parental influences. he's not mad, exactly, more incredulous. ) C'mon, that's a good excuse to snoop around, isn't it? Did I just not sell it well enough?
undiagnosed: (pic#14468758)

delighted to add emeto to this mess

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2020-12-30 11:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[that gets another pained yell out of him, the well placed nutshot making him reflexively puke up his stomach contents (pretty much just alcohol) on the floor next to vasiliy while his hands go to his crotch.]

That was... meant to be... on you... you asshole...

[god, at least getting shot would make his damn balls stop hurting.]

And-- last chance for what? Leaving? Get the fucking gun out my face, Tchaikovsky! But... you know. Not cannon balls. Heh.
webdesigned: (158)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-31 12:07 am (UTC)(link)
That bad? ( it smells good enough to him, but, Peter is also notably lacking in a culinary palette. he'll happily eat hot dogs and mac & cheese that you microwave and not see anything wrong with either.

though, he can readily believe that it isn't great, because so far everything he's gotten from neighbors has been really questionable. which Miguel seems to agree with, bringing up gelatin unprovoked.
)

You think it would work? Because I'm not sure I've seen so many jello casseroles in my entire life, and I was happier that way. ( good to know Peter does have some kind of questionable culinary limit, though... he has at least tried the jello casserole, so maybe not. (it even had meat in it... why is he like this...) )
monalisasmile: (Charm point)

[personal profile] monalisasmile 2020-12-31 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
[She may not have had time yet to get to know him well enough to know the reasons for his awkwardness, but she does find it quite amusing. She supposes any young man would be somewhat awkward, finding a beautiful stranger placed into the role of his "mother". The instinctual and enforced social roles being so at odds like that... it does make his reactions so very intriguing. The knowing smile remains ever-present on her immaculately red-painted lips.]

The excuse was good enough. It just doesn't help at all when you startle so easily. Your guilt is written all over your face before you've even said anything.

[And with that, she lightly boops his nose with the very tip of her finger. Zero problems invading personal space, this one.]

Fortunately for you, you were only caught because I was doing a little snooping myself~. [With a brief pause, she glances at the door and sighs.] Sadly, I doubt it will be so easy to find any useful information...
prodigalhairess: (pic#14033656)

[personal profile] prodigalhairess 2020-12-31 02:04 am (UTC)(link)
Self-propelled? Carts can do that?

[Well, that certainly must answer a lot of questions da Vinci must have in regards to what kind of time period the girl is from.]

Where I'm from, horses do all the cart-pulling! Or, you know, sometimes oxen if you need a bit more power... but I didn't know they could move on their own!!

[Rapunzel moves around the car to the front, her hand running over the hood like she's trying to take in every little dip and edge.]

How does it work? Steam?
monalisasmile: (Relaxed)

[personal profile] monalisasmile 2020-12-31 02:12 am (UTC)(link)
This isn't exactly... ideal for either of us, true...

[That sentence more slips out as an out-loud thought than anything. She's no stranger to being in the field, technically, but she would have preferred to be able to analyze this place from the outside. Especially with all the resources at Chaldea. Especially before coming here herself.

But then, dwelling on what resources she doesn't have isn't going to do any good. Best to move forward with getting to know the situation here as it is. And did she detect something unusual in that smile of Kiara's?]


Hm, is there something wrong? Trouble in paradise?

[And then a thought occurs to her.]

Ah, that's right... the arrangements here don't exactly afford a wife with much privacy from her husband, does it? I'd almost forgotten, with how quickly Dean moved into the spare bedroom.
monalisasmile: (Naturally!)

[personal profile] monalisasmile 2020-12-31 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
[Oh no, she's done it now...]

They can if you design them right! My own invention used springs and a balance wheel, something one might refer to as "clockwork" in the modern era.

Of course, this was before the widespread use of steam power, and the modern internal combustion engine. The principles of moving gears and mechanics are very similar, but these modern automobiles are able to generate much more power from the ignition and combustion of flammable liquid fuels.
thotsandprayers: (is to become a human yourself)

[personal profile] thotsandprayers 2020-12-31 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
[Being a bit of a narcissist and all, Kiara's going to take that question as an invitation to talk about herself for a little while during this walk.]

It's just a bit...strange, really. It's not like I'm really married to him, and aside from the locals treating us as such, it isn't an issue. But even before...

[What's the polite way of saying this? Her backstory is such a mess that picking out a specific time period is hard. And hinting at her past as a Evil of Humanity really isn't a fun thing to do with people who know about that kind of thing. So she'll falter for a moment before deciding how to proceed.]

Ah, perhaps I should say when I was younger. Yes, that should work better. Even when I was younger, I never really thought about this kind of thing. So having to adjust to sharing my home with someone like this and learning to best tolerate their eccentricities has been something I never expected to do.

[Look, she has a pretty all encompassing skillset, but not being Tamamo, housewife isn't in there. At least she doesn't have kids running around the house too, that would be even odder to deal with.]

And yes, the privacy is also a bit of an issue as well.
webdesigned: (Default)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-31 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
( see, another reason he's uncomfortable with his not-mom? all the touching. is nose booping a normal mom thing to do? his aunt has never booped him. not even once. she sort of kept it to patting his hand every once and awhile. and an emotional hug here or there. no boops.

it definitely feels like it's not a normal not-mom thing to do. despite the fact they live together, Peter doesn't know her very well. not that being particularly familiar would make him more at ease with open affection. he's used to hands off sort affection. he makes a noise that hints at his embarrassment, but truly has no answer to that. he rubs his nose, makes a face, and moves on.
)

Work on my poker face. Noted. ( usually when he does his lying, he's hiding behind a spider-mask. it's a lot easier to sell them when people can't look at his face. ) All of them are locked. I've tried a few.
prodigalhairess: (pic#13210749)

[personal profile] prodigalhairess 2020-12-31 03:09 am (UTC)(link)
Springs and wheels, huh...

[Rapunzel drums her fingers against the roof of the car, lost in thought for a moment. She thinks of the Demanitus device that they'd used to stop the blizzard that trapped Corona. She thinks of the giant mechanical lion she and Cass had fought during the Contest of Crowns. She thinks of Varian's automatons... so much can be done with a bunch of moving gears.]

I think something like this could definitely run on gears and the right mechanics!! I have a friend back home... he's an amazing inventor. He was able to make a whole army of automatons that run on music box power cores! Do you think something like this could do the same?

[She's not.... gunna mention that he only made that to invade her kingdom, or that he was improving on an idea from a previous inventor. But improve it he did, all on his own! And that definitely counts for something!]
monalisasmile: (Naturally!)

[personal profile] monalisasmile 2020-12-31 05:01 am (UTC)(link)
[She just can't resist when his reactions are so amusing! Fortunately for him, she's not always in a teasing mood. Unfortunately for him, he is a member of her fake family here, and she's ready and willing to play up her part for the sake of keeping a low profile among the "natives". Whether she knows people are actually watching or not.

For now, though, she seems to take a bit more of a serious, thoughtful turn in her expression.]


Of course. Even if they weren't, I'm not sure we'd find anything that would show even the slightest crack in this little fantasy. If these doors are locked for a reason, it could very well be simply to make any unhappy residents think there's any helpful clue behind them...
webdesigned: (56)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-31 06:05 am (UTC)(link)
( it's true, he's a delightful mix of awkward and anxious that makes his buttons especially easy and enjoyable to press. must have been why Flash Thompson had spent all of his sophomore year trying to fit Peter in his own locker. at least Davinci is at least more endearing and charming in her strange attention, even if Peter no more knows how to deal with it than he had with a bully determined to get on his last nerve.

Peter frowns at her point, though it does make sense.
) It's a Schrödinger's room, huh? Could be something, could be nothing, but we can't tell and we also can't check. ( unless they break the lock, and Peter does not have the super strength for such a feat at present. ) Would be sort of dumb to invite a bunch if disgruntled guests to a place you're hiding a bunch of secrets, though, wouldn't it?

( as appealing as breaking down the locked doors would be, it might not actually be worth the risk. is this... did a parental figure really just successfully appeal to Peter Parker's common sense?? ?? ? ? is that what's happening??? )
monalisasmile: (Benevolent beauty)

[personal profile] monalisasmile 2020-12-31 06:08 am (UTC)(link)
[It helps in some way that Da Vinci is pretty aware of how complicated Kiara's past is. Perhaps not the full picture that the woman herself has, but enough to know how difficult it must be to contextualize now. She understands just enough to sympathize.]

It's not something I have much experience with in my own life, either. I had many younger siblings, and took in a few apprentices in my time... but nothing so domestic as this picture-perfect suburban family arrangement.

Still, Chaldea must have been a similar adjustment for you. Or did you really keep to yourself that much?
thotsandprayers: (kidding when they called me a witch)

[personal profile] thotsandprayers 2020-12-31 06:33 am (UTC)(link)
To an extent. I do socialize of course, but I try to refrain from situations where I may...overwhelm someone.

[That's a tactful way of putting it, probably!]

Meanwhile, the Servants I would consider kindred spirits don't seem to care much for my company.

[Because for any one thing she has in common there is like a giant list, there's like a million reasons to just not engage with her.]

And I certainly wouldn't waste my time speaking with a certain unpleasant Caster, despite what he may have said otherwise.
13thcommander: (content glasses)

don't worry, Peter, in another canon she becomes Spider Gwen, or Gwenpool!

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-31 09:58 am (UTC)(link)
It's fine. I could use the exercise.

[Getting fed regularly and having ready access to things like meat, sugar, and milk aren't doing Erwin's waistline any favors. He's still trim overall, but he's not as half-starved as just about everyone from his world is anymore.]

It's a pleasure to meet you, Peter Parker. I take it they tried to assign you a new last name when you arrived here?

[Erwin kept his own, but his wife Cassandra is chafing under being called Smith, so he sympathizes. Apparently the younger people here lose their last names as well as the women.]
13thcommander: (this is jackass)

in my head, I am referring to Daylight as Sunny

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-31 10:02 am (UTC)(link)
You were a scout?

[Erwin's gaze sharpens as he turns his head to look at Daylight more closely, the bells on his hat jingling with the motion.]

I was the commander of the Survey Corps. We're a type of scout ourselves, exploring hostile territory and gathering reconnaissance.

[It's the simplest way to explain it, without getting into details.]

So you were military too, then?
undiagnosed: (pic#14552228)

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2020-12-31 12:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Could be worse. Could be Sutcliffe. [the serial killer everyone is familiar with, of course.] God, I hate those fucking photos.

[his own complicated relationship with marriage and who he'd want to marry aside, his "wife" looks about five years younger than she actually is, which just makes him feel like a total creep.]

You don't sound convinced. What, you've never heard of a mononym?
m1895: (i feel so stupid and so used)

[personal profile] m1895 2020-12-31 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Vasiliy doesn't flinch when vomit splatters next to his face, because it's not the first time and it's not on him, which is a step up from what has to be like 50% of Chicago's EMS calls. What matters is that his strike has its intended effect: it compounds Archer's pain and it occupies his hands, allowing him to weasel his way out from underneath his opponent and quickly shove himself to his feet despite the pain of his impending post-concussion syndrome.

He returns the gun's aim to the center of the home invader's doubled-over silhouette, coughing, and takes a few seconds to catch his breath. ]


Done?
webdesigned: (221)

how he desperately wishes to be from the timeline he turned into a lizard and died

[personal profile] webdesigned 2020-12-31 11:57 pm (UTC)(link)
I guess I could too.

( Peter has never really thought about it that way, since spider genes usually do the heavy lifting for him (literally). but since his powers seem entirely absent, he supposes that he's responsible for keeping himself in order. he's extraordinarily fit and hasn't had opportunity to completely turn back the clock from his superpowered physique, but for once he's well aware that he'll need to perform the upkeep himself.

so he cautiously steps through the door into the snow. he's ... really not wearing the right kind of shoes for this, but, that's fine. he'll be fine. he wasn't anticipating a snow hike in California, so sue him.
)

I mean, it's a different name on all the creepy family pictures and albums and certificates, yeah. ( it doesn't really feel like his, but when he introduces himself as Peter Parker to locals, they give him perfectly puzzled expressions and ask if that's his middle name, isn't he a Winchester? so, that's fun. ) Did you end up with a fake family too?
webdesigned: (192)

[personal profile] webdesigned 2021-01-01 12:07 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, same.

( his "parents" are... well, they're not terrible or anything. the idea of having "parents" to begin with is uncomfortable enough without getting into their personalities. they seem nice enough (well Dean is a bit scary but sort of in the protective territorial bear sort of way), he is just used to his parents, no quotation marks, being dead. it's bound to make new fake ones require a bit of a learning curve.

as far as having heard of a mononym,
) Sure. But Rando? Like... who's that weird rando over there? Do I know that guy? Seems like a strange baby name, that's all. Is it European? ( why is he so caught up on this... Peter realizes distantly how weird it is, and self corrects. ) Nevermind. It's fine. Nice to meet you, technically. I think.

( he's honestly not sure. this entire meet-cute has been a rollercoaster. )
spaghettimonster: (HUMAN: PUZZLING)

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2021-01-01 03:09 am (UTC)(link)
Really? I'm sure there's some books in the library to reference...

[Maybe not tomes on the art of constructing puzzles specifically, but at least some guides for engineering and carpentry. There's enough buildings and evidence of electricity around the town for that.]

But, what sorts of technology are you used to?
spaghettimonster: (HUMAN: 'SMILE')

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2021-01-01 03:28 am (UTC)(link)
You-- What?! In my own home??

[Papyrus doubletakes at the threat with more energy than anything else so far. How very dare? What a breach of good fight rules.]
sunborne: (406. - 🧭 - HOPEFULLY.)

fdfmdf fun fact daylight was almost just outright named sunlight sO

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-01 09:45 am (UTC)(link)
[ he nods and tries to keep a straight face as his hat jingles with intense festive feelings. he can tell this is important to erwin, given how he's sharing this sort of details with him, and daylight wants to show him proper respect. ]

Well- I had military-esque training. It's how I learned the difference between terrain-oriented, force-oriented, and civil-oriented reconnaissance when I got assigned the scout position.

The Lornful Light was an independent, civilian starship after the Great War but a lot- [ a l o t ] -of the crew had military backgrounds. So when it came to structuring... It seemed reasonable for them to continue with what they know.
shalamayne: (6)

[personal profile] shalamayne 2021-01-01 12:12 pm (UTC)(link)
"I doubt that anything would come of writing such a thing, but should I find myself back in this place then perhaps I shall try it."

Maybe he'll ask for his sword and see what happens? It's not the worst thing Anduin knows he can ask for and it would ultimately prove if those here could control their pull on purpose or not. There is so much about this place they just don't know and having to wait and see is extremely jarring.

Anduin glances over as they walk, vaguely wondering what Wrathion has been doing since arriving here. Looking around, finding things out? Speaking to locals? Anduin isn't sure if it's worth pointing out to the other that actions can have serious repercussions in a place like this; it isn't as if such things stopped him with the Legion events.

"Did they give you a place and people to stay with?"
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (8)

[personal profile] blackscales 2021-01-01 01:18 pm (UTC)(link)
"Indeed, I am blessed with a surrogate father. So far he has not proven worse than the original."

Something challenging to achieve, but not necessarily impossible. Wrathion glances sideways at Anduin, hesitantly turning over a thought. Their last meeting had been... heated, and he isn't quite certain he knows where they stand. Especially here, where things are... difficult.

"You seem... well, despite the complications," he manages. There, nailed it.