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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!

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spaghettimonster: (HUMAN: CUSTOMER SERVICE)

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2021-01-09 04:53 am (UTC)(link)
So would I! But, alas, I don't think they're here.

[Partly because, many of his favorites are of monster make, which this exclusively human (and animal) town wouldn't have. But mostly because this is years and years in the past.]

I'll just have to find... some new favorites!
sunborne: (423. - 🧭 - DAUNTLESS.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-09 06:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ oh wow, they haven't been to the moon yet? hopefully, it'll in better condition than daylight's when they drop by there in the future.

as for the question at hand- well-

daylight makes a little handshaking gesture, going audibly 'eeeeh' under his breath while trying to think of an appropriate and satisfying enough answer. ]
I can- I could talk to them. Ask them to do stuff real nicely, sure, but I'm not an engineer or medic. That's my friend Dialup and my boyfriend Emergency Aid, respectively.
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (3)

[personal profile] blackscales 2021-01-09 10:54 am (UTC)(link)
A new... look? Wrathion considers that, eyes flitting out toward the rest of the party goers.

"Then we have more than one thing in common."

Much more subtly, considering Wrathion has only lost the red eyes, but red eyes signify a lot for him. They shouldn't simply be able to take all that he is away! The thought is unnerving every time his mind touches against it, the idea that his very core being could be... suppressed? Ripped from him? Changed? Whatever it is that they've done.

"Our new friends must be... quite powerful."

If they can de-dragon a dragon, in Wrathion's opinion, that takes a lot of effort.
righthandstand: (this is bullshit)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2021-01-09 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[Another incredulous look - what kind of names are those?]

How's a doctor supposed to help? Aren't you supposed to have gone to school to learn how to deal with fancy tech?

[He picks up a jellied olive and finishes his plate of snacks, chewing intently and regretting his decision to eat the whole olive in one go.]
sunborne: (379. - 🧭 - SIZING UP.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-09 09:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[ daylight looks sympathetic at the sight of the jellied olive because he's seen those before and. yeah. no. they did not taste good especially if you let them get warm. ]

Oh right- When I say I'm an alien, I'm specifically a mechanoid. Robot. Android. [ er. not the last one, that's considered a pretty rude thing to say to mechanoids but eh. no point in bringing that up since he's blood and guts.

speaking of which... he pauses, adding thoughtfully enough, ]
Well. I'm half-mechanoid if you want to get nitpicky.
righthandstand: (think think think)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2021-01-09 09:23 pm (UTC)(link)
A cyborg? [Okuyasu recalls that one American movie, The Terminator, when Daylight mentions the half-robot thing. That's pretty cool and makes a lot of sense for the far future of space.]

But mostly a robot? I guess repairmen are medics to you, huh.
fanoperator: (thinking a thought)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2021-01-10 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
Huaisang furrows his brow thoughtfully, wondering also what counts as good behavior. He would certainly not be receiving any gifts according to the criteria of his own world, but he feels like he's actually done rather well here so far. Fitting in, playing along.

"Obedience to a certain set of rules? I suppose that does make sense."
fanoperator: (attentive behind fan)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2021-01-10 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
When they're alone for a moment while their escorts fetch their coats, Huaisang gives Okuyasu an apologetic smile. "Once we're outside, I'll try and distract them while you slip away, if you like."

It should be easy enough. Huaisang shines brightly when he wants to, and he can easily distract and conduct his reconnaissance while Okuyasu slips away to safety. Huaisang will just have to endure the cheeriness a little longer, but he can manage that. It's better than being alone, at least.
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (25)

[personal profile] blackscales 2021-01-10 01:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"I do."

It looks like a goblin gadget. He supposes he can make it work. He makes an expansive, sweeping gesture with one hand.

"You may call me Wrathion."

A way to locate him using said wrist phones, should his new companion find anything out.
13thcommander: (happy eyebrows)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2021-01-10 01:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Are you still getting used to what a human body needs?

[Which is a question Erwin never thought he'd be asking, but here they are.]

I'm almost afraid to ask what a normal or large size would be.

[Ah yes, excellent, this booth has all the goods. Erwin takes over, digging through the wares to find some quality socks first, before glancing down at Daylight's feet.]

Do you know your shoe size?
shalamayne: (Default)

[personal profile] shalamayne 2021-01-10 07:13 pm (UTC)(link)
It must be a sore point and one Anduin knows will be something that could easily be used to rile to the other up. Despite their current differences, Anduin would never stoop so low but sadly he suspects this place has a few more kicks to give and his expression is nothing but mildly disturbed.

"I am certain they find it that way. I must admit that I find myself faithless since more recent times." It's tempting to just come out and say it, to speak openly about such things and yet Anduin bites the words back. He's grateful he did when someone waves from the other side of the road, a random passer-by who gets a smile and a wave back for their sins.

"There are a lot of people here." At least that person seems to have carried on their merry way rather than coming across for a conversation. If it had come to that Anduin isn't sure if his protocol training would save him from saying something he shouldn't.
Edited 2021-01-10 19:14 (UTC)
righthandstand: (You've been spotted by Trainer Okuyasu!)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2021-01-11 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
Okuyasu sighs loudly. He is safe. "I'll say that I'm tired and have to go back to the party. I can walk all the way home alone." It would takes a long time by foot, but a walk in the cold sounds more fun than hanging around with creepy people.

"But it's better if there's someplace for me to hide while you're walkin'." The plan was there. What could go wrong.

"Wait - what about you?"
righthandstand: (listen here little mama)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2021-01-11 02:42 am (UTC)(link)
"Okuyasu Nijimura!" He pipes up, then adds- "That's my actual name, not the one the creepy people call me."

This was a lot of personal information, but everyone has the same goal, and names were important.

"Yeah, I'll call you once I figure stuff out."
sunborne: (383. - 🧭 - SOFTENING.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-11 06:22 am (UTC)(link)
It’s good to hear confirmation that someone else is like him: Stuck in a weird place. Probably stuck in a body not theirs in the first place.

“Yeah.” The mention of ‘friends’ being the cause of these strange new developments has him paying more attention to the conversation— And also to their surroundings, not wanting anyone to overhear them. It looks like suddenly singing Christmas tunes is on the menu so little miracles. “It’s... Kind of hard to believe that too.” Not with how everyone seems so hm. What’s the word? Without sounding rude to these people, who seem alright on the surface?

Ordinary. Yeah. Ordinary is perhaps the best term he can come up with for now. Mundane, purposefully so? That sounds like something Dialup would use and Daylight uses it himself, “Mundane, purposefully so.”
sunborne: (373. - 🧭 - FIRST CONTACT.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-11 08:07 am (UTC)(link)
... Yeah. A cyborg. [ basically, if you want to boil it down to the basics.

but enough about him, mostly because he's pretty curious about okuyasu's reactions to him at the moment. ]
You’ve got to have had something cool back where you are. Or you must have had an adventure or something.

For someone dragged into this pretty weird situation, you’re taking this in pretty good stride.
sunborne: (426. - 🧭 - BRIGHT TIMES.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-11 09:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ daylight tries to not laugh at the fact erwin has to ask the question, realising the absurdity himself, and gives a thumbs up in reply because. he's still laughing when they approach the booth.

thankfully, this booth is run by someone more normal. willing to let them browse but clearly hoping they pick something from their impressive selection. ]


I think the size is... an eight? US-wise? [ he thinks. he's glad he won't be, like, growing anytime soon. it's been annoying trying to figure out what human sizes are and what's his, specifically. ] Oh boy— Are those rus pants? Holiday-themed at that?

[ now they're talking!

he really hopes they have jingly elf shoes. because if he's going to commit to the look, he will commit to the look. he has a certain vision in his head while poking through the items. ]
13thcommander: (chibi question)

sunny nooooo, none of your new clothes will still fit!

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2021-01-11 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah, all right.

[Erwin is still getting used to clothes having sizes himself. Everything in his world was tailor-made, and buying things off the rack is a new experience.]

[In short order, Erwin finds a thick sweater that looks like it will fit Daylight, and some more festive, holiday-themed socks; he lets Daylight dig through the pants, since that's a more personal item.
]

I've found a pair of size eight shoes, but they have bells on them.
sunborne: (401. - 🧭 - RIGHT ON.)

1961 New Year's Resolution: Get a new elf outfit!!

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-12 02:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Those are perfect, honestly. [ there is no denying the mirth or joy in daylight's eyes when he sees that the shoes not only jingle but they jingle a lot.

by the end of this dressing, he's going to end up as the noisiest attraction in the village and honestly? good. he deserves to be a menace to this village if the village is going to be a menace right back to him. at least this is the only headache he may have from this place,

says the daylight before he's hunted down by murderous reindeer, twice. but that's the future. for now- ]


Hey- Just want to say thanks for the help, man. I really owe you one. I was kind of afraid I'd have to hike all the way back to Loomis drive in my bathrobe or something.
righthandstand: (macho macho man)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2021-01-12 03:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, right! [It's not every day that he can talk about his powers. Might as well share it since they all have to escape.]

I got a Stand! It's like...this ghost thing... [He wiggles his hand. He's working off his understanding of a complex power system that very few people really get.] but it's also my own fighting spirit. I can summon it to carry stuff and fight and shit.

'Course, the past summer I was helping my friends out catch a serial killer who also had this scary Stand. But he's dead now, so I'm not worried about home that much.
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (25)

[personal profile] blackscales 2021-01-12 06:35 pm (UTC)(link)
There certainly are, and Wrathion is frowning back over his shoulder at the people they passed in thought. Could some of them being spying on them? Reporting back? To whom?

"Indeed," he says, with a mild sort of tone that betrays he's thinking about something rather than paying full attention to Anduin. "Come, my newly appointed accommodation is just up here."

He gestures to the turning onto Mockingbird Lane, frowning sideways at Anduin.

"The food so far has... not been what I am used to."

Unpleasant, that is, when the locals are responsible for it.

"I've been endeavouring to see what can be done about it."

That is to say, he's made attempts to see if he can cook. Can't be that hard, can it?
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (10)

[personal profile] blackscales 2021-01-12 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
"Certainly."

Wrathion slants a glance between Daylight and their companions, considering it. He lifts one hand to his chin, stroking at his beard in agitation.

"There is indeed something special about this place, as normal as it might seem from the outside. Something difficult to discern by eye alone."

Something entirely not mundane, to be sure. No doubt the mayor would say that special something is warmth of spirit or how wonderful the locals are. Wrathion isn't certain about that.

He straightens, glancing back at the snack table with disdain before lofting Daylight an eyebrow.

"I suspect we will find out what that is, very soon."

To their detriment, most likely.
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (6)

[personal profile] blackscales 2021-01-12 07:13 pm (UTC)(link)
"Certainly it does, it seems fitting in is much preferred to standing out."

Hence the tree-buying, he supposes. Perhaps not buying one is akin to putting a target on oneself. He frowns at the line, then back at Huaisang.

"What of your winter spirits, then?"

What are they like?
sunborne: (375. - 🧭 - WHO ME.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-12 07:40 pm (UTC)(link)
... That's a lot.

[ h u h.

it wasn't what he expected but he's definitely impressed, that's for sure. if what he's saying about the stands are true, it must have been a hell of a fight to go up against the stand of a serial killer.

he looks pretty impressed as he speaks, ]
Sounds like you had a hell of an adventure. Glad you and your friends were able to defeat- [ kill? ] -the guy. Sounds like you know what to do when something goes down here.

[ not if. when. ]
sunborne: (387. - 🧭 - REFUSAL.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-12 07:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"Unfortunately."

Much as he hopes the month will simply chug along, giving them a chance to gather their bearings and get a feeling for the town- Yeah, no. What Wrathion just described is the most likely scenario in the near future for them all.

After all this feels like... What's that term he read a lot in Earth literature? The calm before the storm, he thinks is the phrase.

It's very fitting for what may happen. (And really fucking accurate for what occurs in a week or so from now.)

"Listen-" He pauses and looks around himself, careful to make sure no one hears what he'll be saying next. It'll get someone to jump down on his throat and for good reason: "If you ever need help, in anything at all, count me in. I want to give some of these people a chance but I don't want us to get fucked over in any way."

He knows another Earth phrase very well: You give them an inch and they'll walk a mile. He rather not have that happen at their expense, thank you.
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (17)

[personal profile] blackscales 2021-01-12 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Wrathion turns back to Daylight properly, having let his eyes drift around their companions again, and offers a slow smile. It might have been more menacing if his eyes still held their bright red glow, as it is it looks perhaps... playfully mischievous.

"Likewise," he allows. "Although I do so hope it doesn't come to that."