DECEMBER 2020 EVENT - PART 1

[robbies]

CHAPTER ONE, PART 1: A HOLLY JOLLY HOLIDAY

Do you hear what I hear?

DECEMBER 5th | A MYSTERIOUS VILLAGE | THE MAYOR HAS INVITED YOU...

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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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OOC INFO	premise | rules | faq | taken | applications | hiatus/drop/canon updates | activity check | reserves | mod contact
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Comments

diana prince | dceu

[monomachy]

i. there'll be much mistletoeing [december 1 - 5]

[Once the shock of waking up in what was certainly not her own bed, house, or possibly dimension has worn off (or at least taken a backseat), Diana makes it a point to put on some of the clothes in her closet and head out to explore the neighborhood. Despite the strangeness of this all, she can't help but feel curious as to how they all got here, who brought them, and why. She's certain most of the other new "residents" are having thoughts along the same lines. She greets anyone she comes across with a gentle smile, and for once it isn't an act. This can't be easy on any of them, and though she has questions, she doesn't want to rattle anyone further.]

How are you holding up?

[Later in the day, she can be found at the Blue Moon Diner, dipping fries in a chocolate milkshake before eating them as she reads a local newspaper. Well, if one can call it that; there don't seem to be many articles of substance in the entire thing. It's full of fluff pieces about how Officer Bradley rescued little Joey's cat from a tree, or hooligans vandalizing so-and-so's garden. The only familiar piece is about the erection of the Berlin Wall, but even that isn't much to go on.

She also frequents the library, combing through the books for anything useful. While there are several classics she's a fan of, but those aren't going to help her find her way out of this place. When she comes across the stained glass window with the inscription--Sapientia et veritas, esse tuum gladium et scutum--she can't help but smile, standing there looking at it for a little longer than might seem normal.

By the time the tree lighting ceremony rolls around, Diana is there in the crowd, once again dressed inconspicuously as she listens to the presentation. A slight frown crosses her lips at the mayor's speech, but she wipes it away and replaces it with a pleasant smile once the meeting ends. She gets in line for the trees, which only brings the frown right back.]

... Seriously? Are there no real trees for sale?

ii. and hearts will be glowing [christmas village]

[This is--new. She'd been trying to return to her own "home," but had some how ended up in a literal winter wonderland. She explores cautiously, eventually finding the ice skating pond, and deciding she might as well give it a try. Diana isn't the most graceful skater out there, but she can at least start and stop without falling on her face. If she sees someone faceplant, she'll glide up and try to lend them a hand; hopefully they won't both end up on the ice.

Eventually, she ends up in the bar, munching on pretzels and almost morosely sipping on her mead. But she tries to bear it with a smile, since bars are such a good place to pick up information. She won't shoo anyone away from her table, and if she sees a mildly familiar face, she'll wave them over to join her.]

iii. when loved ones are near [the gala]

[An event like this is much more in Diana's wheelhouse than some of the other things happening around Santa Rosita. She's sure to dress the part, sticking with just one color in a dress cut similarly to something she'd wear in more modern times. She's cautious around the food and punch, intermittently taking small bites of everything, but none of it seems to be harmful.

She catches sight of Harding in the back with his flask, and chuckles with amusement, commenting:]

I wish I'd thought of that.

[Later in the evening, she'll try to snoop around town hall, slipping out of the reception to see what she can see in the darkened hallways. It isn't much, but it's worth a look.]

iv. it's the most wonderful time of the year [wildcard]

[ooc; i'm down for anything! please see my plotting comment here, and pm me or hit me up on plurk at watchet for anything specific!]

christmas village

[purplejaguareye]

[Kipo was mid-fall while skating, when she feels Diana help her upright.]

Whew! Thanks. Almost made contact with the ice. With my face.

[monomachy]

[Diana offers a warm smile, making sure they're both going to stay on their feet before letting go.]

Well, we can't have that. I'm glad I got here in time. Skating is just as tricky as I remember.

[purplejaguareye]

[Kipo starts to glide a little more smoothly.]

I'm still learning how this all works. We didn't have ice rinks in our burrow... we didn't really have ice come to think of it.

[monomachy]

[Her brows raise slightly, but she skates along with Kipo, interest piqued.]

There wasn't ice where I grew up, either. [A beat passes, and she can't help but ask:] Did you say burrow?

I; Tree Lighting Ceremony

[prodigalhairess]

[The smiles of the young woman behind Diana seem much less faked; throughout the whole speech, Rapunzel was rocking back and forth on her heels with barely concealed excitement. There were a lot of things clearly wrong with this town she found herself in, and there will definitely be a time to worry about their current situation, but for now, her curiosity is taking over. A sense of curiosity that... somewhat deflates upon the revelation of the aluminum trees.]

... Huh? Why would they make a fake tree like that?

[monomachy]

[Rapunzel isn't the only person excited to be here, so Diana doesn't pay her much mind until she speaks up about the trees. She shakes her head slightly at the "trees," then turns to face the young woman standing nearby.]

Because it's the fashion right now. An unfortunate one, too.

[prodigalhairess]

Well.... I guess it has a certain charm to it...

[Trying to see the beauty in everything, it seems.]

But the colors! It's not... super bad, but the lights shining off all the metal makes it seem a little off. If it was on a real tree, it'd look much prettier!

[monomachy]

[Well, that's an incredibly kind thing to say about these garishly tacky trees. Diana likes her already.]

It is rather unsettling. I much prefer the real thing. I wonder if there's anywhere that does sell real trees?

[She glances around, as if one will serendipitously appear. When it doesn't, a small smile finds her lips.]

I suppose we could always try to find our own.

[She may or may not be suggesting they go cut down a tree from one of the parks.]

i.

[13thcommander]

[Erwin has noticed the tall, handsome woman before; they clearly live in the same neighborhood, possibly even next door, but haven't been formally introduced yet. It has never felt like the right time, with everything else going on. But he's seen her, more than once, and when he runs into her in the library, it feels like serendipity.]

[Erwin loves this library. He is completely fascinated by it, and would spend all day here if he could. There's such an accumulated wealth of knowledge, and so many things he's never heard about before. He knows that he should be at least a little intimidated by how much catching up he has to do, but he's dived right in, devouring everything from atlases to encyclopedias to fiction with equal enthusiasm.]

[He approaches Diana from the side, not trying to conceal his footsteps or sneak up on her in any way. He's dressed in the clothing from his closet, and carrying a canvas tote bag stuffed with books. As soon as he found out about library cards, he signed up for one.]

Are you able to read that?

[He gestures up at the stained glass with his chin.]

I can pick out a few words, but not enough to translate it.

[monomachy]

[Though her senses aren't what they should be, she still has a keen ear and hears someone moving towards her. She angles her body towards whoever it is, eyes drifting away from the stained glass so she can see them. Yes, she recognizes him; she's seen him on around the neighborhood, and can only assume he's been somehow displaced like the rest of them.

Her gaze drops to the bag at this side, and she smiles to herself. The books here aren't exactly brand new, but there are certainly plenty worth reading. His question doesn't surprise her; there aren't many people who speak Latin, considering it's a dead language. A shame, really. It's beautiful. She moves towards the glass, drawing a finger under the words as she translates.]

"Wisdom and truth, be thy sword and shield."

[They're words that hits close to home for her, and brings her some amount of comfort.]

A strange phrase to put in the children's section, don't you think?

[13thcommander]

[The books are all new to Erwin, and he's loving it. Imagine, a world where so many people had the time and safety to devote just to writing! It's an incredible luxury, both to have these works available and to have the time to read them.]

A bit strange for children, yes, but an excellent motto all the same.

[He offers her his hand.]

I'm Erwin Smith. I believe we're neighbors now?

[monomachy]

I agree. It sounds like something my family would say.

[Her smile broadens, and she gives his hand a firm shake.]

Diana Prince. And yes, I believe we are.

[Having neighbors like this is... new to Diana. She's always lived in apartments or flats, anywhere she could easily move on from. It was difficult to stay in one place for too long before people started to notice you weren't aging the way a mortal should.]

Are you getting along alright? [It's sort of the standard thing to ask, but Diana says it with absolute sincerity. She's genuinely concerned for all the people who were brought to... wherever this is.]

3. when loved ones are near

[the_caped_crusader]

[ the hallways seem quiet, every footstep an echo across the linoleum flooring. all seems at peace until a firm hand grasps her and tugs her into the darkness, and then quickly over her mouth. ]

Quiet.

[ a moment later, a guard passes by robotically, somehow seeming even less normal than their empty-smiled neighbors. after the moment passes, he releases her. ]

They're a lot sneakier than they look. Quieter, too.

[monomachy]

[The guards are off, somehow. The way they walk, the way they talk to each other--none of it is quite right. None of it is exactly human. Diana is waiting for a patrol to pass around a corner when she feels someone's hands on her, pulling her back and covering her mouth.

Mentally cursing her dulled senses, she grasps at the forearm in front of her. If she'd had her full strength, the bone would have snapped like a twig between her fingers; as things stand, she might leave a bruise.

But he releases her after the guards pass, and though her instinct is to wheel around and fling him against the wall, he did keep her from getting caught. He shouldn't have had to, but he did. Diana takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and turns to see a somewhat familiar face. They live in the same neighborhood.]

Not just them. [She rolls her shoulders, glancing down the hall before turning her attention back to him.] What are you doing out here?

[the_caped_crusader]

Same thing you are, I imagine. There are a lot of police for a building that's supposed to be closed, don't you think?

[ his red blazer is off, of course, but it'll be hard for her to hide properly in that dress of hers, he thinks. they'll have to be careful moving forward. ]

You should take those heels off. Walk close to the ground, toe to heel. Let's go.

you had a library prompt i Gotta

[interdicted]

[ It's funny: For all his bitterness, Wolfe is still a Scholar at heart. Though he's inherently distrustful of this place and all of its citizens—and this woman standing before the stained glass window doesn't look as out of place as a lot of the new "neighbors" he's been meeting—he can't help but notice how she studies it for longer than one might expect of a casual admirer.

And that piques his wary interest. ]

"Wisdom and truth will be your sword and shield."

[ NOT IN HIS EXPERIENCE. ]

The Scholars who wrote these sayings rarely lived by them.

hell yeah

[monomachy]

[When she was younger, Diana hated working with her tutors. She'd been so consumed with wanting to be a warrior like her sisters that her studies had been the last thing she'd cared about. But once she'd started her training, rounding out the rest of her education had suited her just fine. And after leaving the island, she'd had plenty to learn; mankind had advanced so far from what her people knew of them, and it had taken her decades to catch up on their history, art, and technology.

Luckily, this is an era she's intimately acquainted with, so there's no real need for her to catch up. But she knows that isn't the case for everyone. She tilts her head towards the man who has walked up beside her, and listens to him recite the Latin before them. She appreciates that he knows the language, as so few do in her time. She shrugs.]

Scholars write to be remembered, not to be examples. That doesn't mean the rest of us can't take these things to heart.

oh my god???? one-hit ko

[interdicted]

[ It's remarkable, really, how neatly she slides the dagger between his ribs and into his heart. Wolfe shoots her a sharp look almost before he even realizes it, then forces his eyes back to the stained glass while he mentally shoves a wall up against the sudden flood of emotion that threatens to overwhelm him.

He will never be remembered. The Library has seen to that.

It takes a moment before he's sure that his voice will be steady, will retain its usual dryness as he speaks. But gods, he envies her for her ignorance of what Scholars can become. ]

Take it to heart if you wish, but don't be blinded by pretty words. Your experience with Scholars must have been far different than mine.

wonderful time

[thevalley]

[Ellie follows the other woman's gaze to catch a guy drinking out of a flask. Boy, she wishes she had too and she doesn't even drink all that often.]

Seems like he knew what was coming.

[Then her eyes drift back to the woman and she sort of starts because... wow. Everything about this woman is captivating, from the depth of her eyes to the way she wears that dress. It makes Ellie feel like a tiny little schlub despite how well the suit fits her.

Uh, forgive her Dina. She's looking... respectfully.]

[monomachy]

[She does find it a bit odd that the chief of police isn't as disgustingly cheerful as the rest of the higher-ups in the town, and she makes a mental note to have a conversation with him at the earliest opportunity. He might have some answers--or he might at least give her a sip of whatever is in his flask.

Her gaze rounds on the young woman beside her, and she can't help but nod, cracking a bit of a smile.]

A warning would have been nice. We could have followed suit.

[Honestly, it's all way too kitsch for her taste now, but she remembers a time when she'd have loved this kind of thing. Belatedly, she notices the staring, and decides that perhaps an introduction is in order.]

I'm Diana.

[thevalley]

Kinda think the point was to fuck with us. Hence no warning.

[She fiddles with the hem of cuff of her suit, keeping her gaze down so the other woman can't meet it.

But when you get caught staring, you probably owe said person an introduction.]

Ellie. And... [She's about to apologize for staring and then realizes that would be stupid.] Yeah.

[Smooth.]

ii slides in late... on her face

[feudalladyshandmaid]

[Well... far be it from her to ignore a woman that's waving her over. Although it doesn't feel like she deserves the attention, necessarily. Based on her track record out on the ice, Cass spent more time on her face than on her feet.

Best thing that did was add a bit of rosiness to her pale complexion that could've been mistaken for the glass of mead clutched in her right hand.]

I gotta ask. Are you going to pull me into some wacky winter game, too?

perfect

[monomachy]

[She'd seen the young woman earlier faceplanting on the ice, but she'd always gotten back up before Diana could make her way over to lend a hand. So it only seems natural to do so now, even if in a different way. She offers a smile, raising her own glass of mead.]

I am not. I just thought it might be nice to have some company away from the cold. [She gestures to the seat across from her.] I'm Diana. I think I've seen you on my street.

[feudalladyshandmaid]

[Accepting help was still something new to Cass. She was growing into the idea! Often times, if she fell, she preferred to get back up anyway, show that she wasn't messing around. That said, she accepts the gesture and joins Diana at the table.]

I, uh, was probably looking around. [Reconnaissance and all that... Hang on-] Wait, I've seen you too. You're Levi's, uh... 'wife'.

[Feels... weird to say it.]