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?

↑ 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
fanoperator: (cheerful)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2021-01-12 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"One of them will insist on going with you if you say anything," Huaisang murmurs. "Just let me distract them."

He smiles at the worry, his smile as blithely unconcerned as any of the robbies. "I guess I'll just enjoy the party a bit longer. I don't mind, except for the lack of alcohol. It's important to be festive."
righthandstand: (o hai mark)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2021-01-13 01:28 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, if I get it back. [He's excited for that fight, but he doesn't sound happy at all that he's here without his powers.] I'd erase anything they throw at us!

[...He hopes that they wait until he gets it back.]

But the mystery-solvin' part? That's all on my friends. They're the smart ones of the group.
righthandstand: (sniff)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2021-01-13 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
He's really going to stay behind for Okuyasu's sake...to be tortured in that boring ass party, knowing that someone escaped...

Okuyasu rubs at his eye, touched by a stranger's selfless sacrifice.

"S-sure...I'll sneak off-" One day he must repay this kindness.
fanoperator: (hmmm)

[personal profile] fanoperator 2021-01-13 05:13 am (UTC)(link)
"Hmm," Huaisang taps his chin, considering where to start. "There's the Black Dragon, one of the heavenly deities, the Great Winter God of the Eight Generals, the snow god Xuěshén, and a wide variety of spirits and fairies. They don't give gifts, though, not like you described. Heaven is a very well-ordered bureaucracy, so they see to their own areas of authority, and spirits outside the heavenly bureaucracy do as they please. They can all be prayed to and petitioned, but in most cases they cannot be bothered to respond to prayers or requests, not even if bribed. They simply aren't interested in mortal affairs."
fanoperator: (discovery)

fin?

[personal profile] fanoperator 2021-01-13 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
Huaisang nods, glad that he's able to help a friend. He can endure a terrible party knowing that a friend has escaped it.

When Ethel and Ann-Louise come back, Huaisang's quick to secure their attention again, chattering on about Christmas lights and what they think the best choices are and their personal tips for arranging a display. Once all of them are outside and heading away from the party, Huaisang links arms with them, keeping up a cheerful dialogue and never looking back, not giving them a choice to remember the fourth member of their party until Okuyasu has already gone.

Huaisang's confident that they'll meet again, and for now he's content with his reconnaissance.
Edited 2021-01-13 05:51 (UTC)
sunborne: (421. - 🧭 - ALL SMILES.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-13 08:25 am (UTC)(link)
"Not so soon, at least," Daylight agrees, firing off a bright and mischievous smile back. "But if it does comes down to that... It's good to know there's someone else the others and I can turn to when we need to get stuff down."

Sans. Kiara. Erwin- The more names and faces he learns, the more he's certain they can work together and figure this mystery out.
sunborne: (373. - 🧭 - FIRST CONTACT.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-13 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
We'll find the smart ones of our group then.

[ best thing about building ties? pooling resources for little moments like that or for future situations that require things that they don't have. ]

Have you met anyone else? I know around... [ he pauses, looking up as he tries to recall faces and names. ] Maybe four, five others who are stuck in our predicament.
13thcommander: (unsure)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2021-01-13 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[Erwin doesn't quite get the appeal of wearing a full blown elf outfit, but hey, if it keeps Daylight warm and makes him happy, he's not going to question it. He won't be participating beyond the hat he already has, but he'll be damned if Daylight doesn't make this look kind of fun.]

Of course. I wasn't about to leave you to freeze in the snow.

[When Daylight says Loomis drive, Erwin's eyes widen, and he stops what he's doing, a garish sweater woven with reindeer and twinkling little mirrors held in his hands.]

You live on Loomis drive?
m1895: (i loved you i loved you i loved you)

[personal profile] m1895 2021-01-14 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
Are you crazy? No.

[ Especially because that was close, far too close for his liking, and he's still out of breath. And his jaw is throbbing and even without looking in a mirror he can tell it's swollen just from the way it feels, from the taste of blood in lingering his mouth.

At least his teeth weren't damaged. He's already had much, much more dental work done than he ever wanted, and he'd like to avoid being back in that office (well, whatever office they have here now, he supposes) as much as possible. ]


You try anything, I will kill you.
undiagnosed: (pic#14468833)

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2021-01-14 01:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, because there's anything to try, here. Who do you think I am, John Pershing?

[he holds his hands up, shifting back and towards the stairs. stopping momentarily by a small table with some misc decor on it, floor boards creaking under the weight of the boots he's wearing. you can't break into houses if you ain't cute, after all!]

I mean, seriously, you couldn't pay me to rob this place. [he picks up some kitsch off the table, turning it over in his hand for a moment, then puts it back down far to the left of where he took it.] Is that a Robert Fritz vase? Ugh.
Edited 2021-01-14 13:36 (UTC)
sunborne: (405. - 🧭 - CLOWNING.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-14 06:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah! [ daylight is pretty excited to see the sweater, eyes sparkling in genuine excitement to see such a ridiculously noisy and festive sweater.

and, well, the fact erwin's question implies he might live there too. huh! town is a lot smaller than daylight had originally thought. he's not going to complain because it helps keep track of the others plus allows him to pin another friendly face to another area he's starting to view as safe (as this town will allow). ]
Yeah- I live on Loomis Drive. I live there over at 101 with my... 'wife', Agatha.

[ if not for the fact he's busy putting on the jingle bell shows- how will he be able to put on pants later? that's a problem for future daylight, perhaps. -daylight would have most certainly made air quotes as he said 'wife.' ]
13thcommander: (I don't know...)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2021-01-14 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[Erwin might not understand Daylight's fashion sensibilities, but he certainly appreciates the enthusiasm with which he approaches them.]

Oh, I've met Agatha. [Met her and liked her quite a bit, in fact. Erwin is a little surprised to hear that Daylight is her husband; he knows the assigned relationships here mean very little, but he'd have thought Daylight is closer to being her son than her husband.] I've, ah... also met Sans and Papyrus, who I believe are your neighbors?

[Erwin drops his voice.]

I apologize if the lights and decorations are getting out of control. I may have encouraged both of them.
m1895: (i bit the apple 'cause i trusted you)

[personal profile] m1895 2021-01-15 12:11 am (UTC)(link)
I do not know who any of these people are.

[ Said flatly, but Vasiliy's dark eyes follow the man with a rabbit's alertness. The home invader could, after all, pick up anything from that table and throw it to try and catch him off-guard. ]

If you are not robber, why are you here? [ He extends the arm carrying the gun. ] The truth. You work with me, I do not call police. You try anything, you will wake up in California jail cell.

[ The offer only rings familiar after he's said it. ]
undiagnosed: (pic#14468560)

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2021-01-15 05:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Not even John Pershing? Polar Bear? [he snorts, staying moving, slowly and deliberately with the practice of someone who's been at gunpoint because of their own stupidity (and in general) many, many times before.

vasiliy isn't wrong; he did consider throwing the vase.]
Recon, whatever. Nighttime neighborhood watch? Whatever sounds more believable.

[god, he's not even trying anymore. archer burps into his fist, looking back over at vasiliy.]

Oh, yeah, and you don't just call the police anyway? Bullshit. Jesus, were you Russian police? Do you know how many goddamn times they've pulled that shit on me?
m1895: (i feel so stupid and so used)

[personal profile] m1895 2021-01-15 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's gradually become increasingly clear that this man's pretty intoxicated, and probably not in here with any malicious intent, just his own stupidity. He's even ready to consider telling him to just leave.

And then the intruder drops that second part, and Vasiliy's blood runs cold. There's no way he can let the guy just go now, not when he's so confident in his correct guess at the truth. His voice comes out icy and flat, almost monotone. ]


You have no proof. I am EMT. Emergency Medical Technician.
prodigalhairess: (pic#13210747)

[personal profile] prodigalhairess 2021-01-16 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
Aw, don't say that. I mean, just because some books are considered rare, it doesn't mean they can't be found in a local bookshop or library! Maybe we just have to do a little digging.

[She's not really sure how "movies" are distributed compared to books, but if they're similar forms of entertainment, it can't be too different, right?]

But if you can't find your favorites... what genres do you like?
feudalladyshandmaid: (Brow)

[personal profile] feudalladyshandmaid 2021-01-16 11:06 am (UTC)(link)
....Ugh, are you serious?

You can climb through a random stranger's window, but you can't remember the person you're... living with?

[That on it's own is an awful lot to wrap her mind around.]
feudalladyshandmaid: (Plain)

[personal profile] feudalladyshandmaid 2021-01-16 11:18 am (UTC)(link)
You feel the same...?

[??? Is she that obvious? Ordinarily, she'd swear that she keeps certain, ah, aspects of herself under wraps rather extensively. For privacy's sake and all.

Or maybe she's just losing it a bit because of the strong, tall woman in front of her. That's equally possible.
]

...You didn't try to fight him after you woke up too, did you?
sunborne: (421. - 🧭 - ALL SMILES.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2021-01-16 12:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh! So you're the reason why the drive is— [ okay— daylight cannot help himself and laughs loud and clear. (the vendor joins in the laughter and it's kind of creepy how it echoes but daylight won't let that bring him down.)

after he pulls himself together, he's wiping tears away from his twinkling eyes, his cheeks flushed from not only the cold (it's getting better, now that he's layering up more) but from amusement. ]


I was wondering why the place was looking pretty... [ what's the word? ] festive of the last few days. I was wondering why it still looked like daylight in the evening.
undiagnosed: (pic#14468729)

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2021-01-16 01:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[archer laughs as he continues his sloppy way down the stairs. his own stupidity indeed...]

Oh my god, did you flinch? That's like telling an undercover cop they still have their badge on and they actually look to check! [god, he's gonna get shot. shitty frickin' russian cop-spies. they don't ever get any better.] Whatever, Khrushchev, I don't give a shit.

[a beat:] Unless you know Katya. Did she say anything about me?
undiagnosed: (are you hourly?)

[personal profile] undiagnosed 2021-01-16 01:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Uh, yeah, the first one doesn't actually need much effort. I could do that in my sleep.

[just him, with his training, though. this sort of thing always came ridiculously easy to him.]
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (3)

[personal profile] blackscales 2021-01-16 04:23 pm (UTC)(link)
The shift in Wrathion's interest is immediate, from casually listening while his eyes are drifting over the crowd to suddenly fixed on Huaisang entirely.

"You revere a black dragon?" he prompts, trying to keep his tone as mild as he can. That is, of course, how things should be -- but things did all go terribly downhill and he cannot fully blame the people of Azeroth for their... caution. Neltharion did plenty of damage, damage that is remembered far better than the good that came before.
13thcommander: (are you fucking serious)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2021-01-16 05:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh thank the gods, he's more amused by it than anything else. Erwin can't believe he didn't think of the other neighbors when he encouraged the decoration war, and he just hopes Agatha is as good a sport about it as Daylight is.]

It's not entirely my fault! I helped Sans carry his tree home, and then helped Papyrus pick out some lights, and...

[And yeaaaaah, he's an asshole. Erwin shakes his head and chuckles ruefully at himself.]

I hope you have strong blinds on your windows.
m1895: (and this bullshit west coast dogma)

cw murderous ideation, antisoviet sentiment mention

[personal profile] m1895 2021-01-16 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ You could push him down the stairs right now. He gets concussed, you write it off as delusion. Or he dies and takes this with him. Tell the police you did it in self defense— No. You'd never get away with it. You'd end up like the Rosenbergs. Dead WASP found in home of Russian Communist. There's a headline. Vasiliy swallows hard, dark irises boring holes into the space between Archer's shoulderblades. His heart races quicker than it was already beating; his palm feels wet against the grip of the shitty American pistol in his hand.

Kill this guy, and then what? How many more people would die after that? ]


Katya? You think because I am Russian I know some random woman? USSR is largest country in world and Katya is very, very common name.

[ But if he has some connection to some unfortunate Soviet woman, that's leverage in this neighborhood. Vasiliy's familiar with the old rules of a guilt-by-association society. ]
righthandstand: (think think think)

[personal profile] righthandstand 2021-01-17 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
Uh...

I'm not too sure. [There are so many adults here, who are automatically more capable than Okuyasu with mystery-solving stuff.] I mean, there's the Wrathion dude who sounds pretty dependable.