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Entry tags:
- !event,
- archer: ray gillette,
- archer: sterling archer,
- attack on titan: erwin smith,
- attack on titan: levi ackerman,
- bbc dracula: agatha van helsing,
- dc comics: bruce wayne,
- dceu: diana prince,
- fate/grand order: kiara sessyoin,
- fate/grand order: leonardo da vinci,
- ffxiv: takame kesi,
- good omens: aziraphale,
- good omens: crowley,
- great library: christopher wolfe,
- jjba: okuyasu nijimura,
- kipo: kipo oak,
- marvel comics: miguel o'hara,
- original character: daylight vis lornlit,
- original character: vasiliy y ardankin,
- persona 4: shinjiro aragaki,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- tangled: cassandra,
- tangled: rapunzel,
- tasm: peter parker,
- the gifted: lorna dane,
- the last of us: ellie,
- the untamed: huaisang nie,
- undertale: papyrus,
- undertale: sans,
- world of warcraft: anduin wrynn,
- world of warcraft: wrathion
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
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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: |
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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! |
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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!” |
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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
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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? |
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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: 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. |
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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...
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...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. |
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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.
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? |
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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. |
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“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!
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!
no subject
Mmmm, I think we can both agree you've never been great at keeping me out, Bat. [ she resists the urge to let her hand drop and take his, figuring they probably shouldn't push it out in the open like this on the off-chance someone actually cares and instead nods in the opposite direction. ] Come on, let's get this thing back to your place. It's getting cold standing out here like this and I could use a cup of tea to warm me up. Unless you have a better idea?
[ also, you know, it'd be nice to hear what ol' world's greatest detective has dug up over the last few days, see if he's got anything useful. ]
no subject
[ as they begin their walk home, suburban streets foreign from the grittiness of gotham city, there is something peaceful about the gentle snowfall down the line of similar looking houses, the two of them walking together, christmas tree slung over his shoulder. a snapshot to keep in their minds to ignore the fact that all of this is so dreadfully wrong. ]
Afraid I can't offer you any Rooibos, but I think I saw a box of Lipton in the cupboard.
no subject
[ she's far beyond the level of thieves a neighborhood watch would catch, even without the expensive equipment and catsuit. but selina can't exactly imagine these people have anything worth stealing and she's not about to commit a B&E just for funsies.
unable to get a good night's sleep with a stranger in her house and having nothing better to do the past few nights, selina's already got the town mapped out in her head. she stays a step ahead of him, practically leading him back to his own house. ]
Oh, you poor thing. Your well-traveled rich boy tastes must be so offended having to slum it like this. How are you managing, living off all those terrible Jello molds? Are you keeping the kid fed? Because you do need to feed and water them and point 'em at the sun every once in a while.
[ she's had her horde of alleytown kids for five seconds and suddenly she's an expert, apparently. ]
Thankfully my "husband" knows how to take care of himself, though the jury's still out on whether he can be trusted to do so responsibly.
no subject
I was never a very good father, or very good at fixing my mistakes if this is some sort of 'Christmas Carol' lesson for all of us, but I'll take care of her. Maybe the... tree will help.
no subject
there's a noticeable shift in the tone of her voice, all that earlier playfulness now gone. ]
So, let's make sure it looks nice for her, then. Try and give her something that resembles normal in all this... weirdness.
[ the kid isn't much older than she was when she was being bounced around from place to place. it's not quite the same, but being taken from everything you know and being forced into an uncomfortable situation isn't exactly hard to sympathize with. ]
I could help. I really could help with the decorating, that doesn't have to be just innuendo. I could, I don't know... pick up a couple gifts for you to put under that tree for her.
no subject
[ his reply is soft, caught a little by the peaceful moment himself, the sound of snow crunching beneath his loafers in the silence of their pauses, breath visible in the air. ]
What do you even get a thirteen year old girl in the nineteen sixties?
no subject
[ maybe she'll take a look around their house while she's there, see if there's anything bruce's daughter might have gravitated towards in her perfectly 1960s bedroom. maybe she'll take a look around their house just because she's nosy.
despite her earlier efforts, her hand does eventually find his after they round the corner off the main street and find themselves further in the residential part of town -- her pinky finger catching around his at first, her fingers slowly slipping themselves between his fingers. their conversation grows quiet naturally, only to pick back up a few minutes later with a question: ]
If I ask you how you're doing, would you tell me the truth?
no subject
[ he purposely avoids the word 'fine,' though the change should be meaningful enough. he knows what he told her back home, their distance for a year while he tries to fit into his new life outside of the manor, but he also doesn't forget that they're partners, and that he's better with her than without. ]
no subject
[ she gives his hand a gentle squeeze, pulling him along as she picks up the pace a little. that december chill is really starting to settle in and all the mood of their conversation seems to be weighing them down. ]
You don't have to be a stranger.
no subject
[ '...put you in danger.' he stops before he finishes that, knowing how annoyed she'll be to hear that again, even after the conversations they've had recently about him using that as an excuse. he pivots. ]
Nevermind. We're still a few blocks away. Can I give you my coat?
no subject
Yes. Please. Now, thank you, hand it over.
[ look, she'll even be helpful and take the tree from him so he can take the jacket off. she holds it in front of her, both arms wrapped around the box as she waits for him to relinquish his coat to her. ]
Will pretending I'm still cold get you out of the rest of your clothes? Just wondering... for later.
no subject
[ he scoffs a little, smiling down as he slips the peacoat from around his shoulders and over across hers. she's right, you know. all that training? even if it did bother him, he learned to shut it out a long time ago. besides, he'd do anything for her. ]
Come on, we're not far now.
no subject
she pulls the coat around herself tightly, burrowing into it easily as she tries to warm herself back up. selina smiles when he, y'know, actually flirts back a little, it's always cute to see him try. she leans in to press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before he gets away from her, immediately turning back around to charge on ahead. ]
Yeah, c'mon, slowpoke. You're holding us up.
[ he's holding them up. him. just a few more blocks until they find themselves at his doorstep. ]
no subject
It's not the manor, but... [ a pause. ] Well, it's not the manor.
no subject
Nowhere's the manor, Bat. [ the house on the hill with all its history, its secrets, the same house that he'd been born in. it'd been her home for a time, too, but it was only ever home because he was there. ] At least this place has furniture.
[ selina removes her gloves and the jacket she'd paired with her outfit as she makes her way into the living room and through it into the kitchen, the newly dubbed mrs. ardankin really getting into the whole aesthetic if nothing else.
her things placed aside for now, it's all sort of a guess at where she can find what she needs to get their tea going. boiling a pot of water is just about the only thing selina knows how to do. she gets the kettle going, takes out a couple of cups for them, and even finds the box of lipton in the back of the cupboard. ]
I have a lot of questions.
[ about this place, she means. now that they're alone and in private. ]
no subject
[ he replies from the living room, in the process of unboxing the tree... if you could call the aluminum monstrosity that comes out a tree, really. as she looks around, she might notice the wall to wall pictures of bruce with this new mysterious daughter of his, smiling throughout the strange, fictitious years of their life. ]
It's strange... I almost feel like we've had this conversation before. Different, though.
no subject
[ she's back and forth between the two rooms as he unboxes and tries to shape the thing into something resembling a christmas tree, first with a pair of cups and the usual additions that she sits upon the coffee table and then a few minutes later with the kettle.
she pours water into each cup, filling hers just a little less to compensate for the extra milk that usually goes into her tea. selina makes one last trip into the kitchen to place the kettle back on the stove, humming something that sounds like baby, it's cold outside as returns and takes a seat on the sofa. ]
The neighbors sure are something. All the smiling is starting to get creepy, they're all so polite. I've mostly just been taking notes, trying to figure out who these people are and what they do when we're not watching, but... [ her tea fixed to her liking, she leaves it on the table for the moment, leaning over the back of the sofa to get a look at the tree. ] Well, that's certainly... something. Not sure if it's a good something. Maybe you should have just gone to the park and chopped something down for yourself?
no subject
[ he says ominously, hands stopping at the edges of the tree. ]
There's something strange about that forest. The only way out of this town is either through there or the tunnel towards the south.
no subject
[ she motions for him to take a break from the tree and come join her, seeing as there's really only so much he can do to that shiny aluminum nightmare. does the house also come with decorations? she'll have to see about picking up some ornaments for him. maybe that will make it look a little more christmas tree-y. ]
I was thinking it'd be a good idea if you spoke to the mayor. Turned the Bruce Wayne Charm up to an 11, tried to befriend him. Then I could take Harding. He seems a little more like someone who'd be swayed by my tactics, no offense.
no subject
[ he stands up and moves to the kitchen, drinking his own tea plain much like he does his coffee. ]
And if Gotham has taught me anything, it's that men in power usually have dark sides. Getting close to him is going to be difficult.
no subject
[ she takes a sip of her own, swallowing it almost immediately just so the taste of it doesn't have a chance to linger in her mouth long. it's not horrible, it's drinkable, but he had a point earlier. she's forgotten how fancy her tastes have gotten. ]
We only have to get as close to these people as is necessary to start seeing the cracks beneath the surface.
no subject
[ he sets the coffee cup down, doing his best to hide his frustration that she seems so cavalier about something much more complicated than what they're used to in gotham city. ]
Getting close goes both ways. We need to learn the rules and play by them before we try to trick the system. I learned that the hard way when I got shot that night on the street, remember?
no subject
[ two stubbornly independent people set in their ways with a history of clashing over how they do things? who would have ever guessed that was going to be a hard transition? she loves him... so much... but he has got to start giving her some credit. ]
It's fine to send me out shopping for your daughter -- and frankly, the fact I didn't get a lecture about not stealing anything is amazing -- but taking any kind of initiative is beyond my abilities? So much so that I can't even make a suggestion? This isn't Gotham, but you act like I'm suggesting we charge up to these men and start demanding answers, like... I haven't managed perfectly fine my entire life without you. It's actually kind of insulting coming from someone who I've had completely fooled more than once.
[ selina takes another sip of her tea, making a face this time in response. she reaches for the milk and tops it off in hopes that it might help the taste. ]
You're real lucky you are good-looking.
no subject
[ he's talking about their conversation back home. the year apart, getting his life together, after having spent so much time agreeing to be partners. they certainly hadn't addressed it too much before waking up here. how often was he going to decide to go back on his word to her? it's something he questioned himself. ]
And you know that's not what I was implying.
no subject
[ on the plus side, the milk does help the taste, but it's really just milk with some sugar in a cup that once contained bad tea. she pushes it aside, warm enough to just give up on the whole thing. she reaches out for his hand instead. ]
Bat, if we're going to get through this, you have got work with me. You've got to start seeing me as an equal, trust me enough to know I know what I'm doing or at least enough to let me in on what you're planning. I know what you're doing and I'd find it sweet if it weren't so frustrating. You can't protect me and take all this on yourself and I know that it's hard for you to let go of the reins sometimes, but... I'm telling you right now that I'm not going to sit back and wait for you to save the day.
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