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 ◀
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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
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_53d5b54df907127e781efc7a964b4825_)

Agatha Van Helsing | BBC Dracula

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-02 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
THE TREE LIGHTING

[Yes, she bought one of the small metal trees- certainly not the large one. While she still had not quite worked out the money conversion rate here, just the sight of it was too decadent for her tastes. But these metal trees were a curiosity, and it had ever been her greatest sin to indulge in that- if only a little.

So Agatha carried her smile prize around in hand as she took in this little gathering to welcome the upcoming visit of Sinter Klaas to town. He was, of course, only a story for children during her life. Now, however? Agatha found herself taking the strange step of asking her neighbors:]


Have you ever seen Santa Claus?


WALKING IN A WINTER WONDERLAND - SANTA'S VILLAGE

[The first time Agatha appears in the magical village is nothing short of rude. She had just left the (incredibly, probably sinfully luxurious) shower when her bathroom door suddenly lead here, instead of her warm bedroom. She'd at least had her bathrobe on when it happened, but had precious little else on. Still, she took a long moment to read and consider the note, her eyes narrowing in contemplation, and went to find the mailbox before she dealt with her state of dress.

Later, after being helped by some chastising 'neighbors' and loaned a little elf costume of her own for her hike back ('There's such thing as being too excited, dear!' they had said. Such strange souls), Agatha could be found making a wreath. It was, at least, something she knew how to do. And while she was at it, she eavesdropped on every conversation she could, as well as struck up talk with anyone that looked as 'new' as her.

This world was magic and madness. That didn't mean she wouldn't be able to find a method to it all if she looked hard enough.]


WILDCARD

Agatha will also be at the party and generally exploring the neighborhood! Feel free to throw a prompt down and I will respond, or hit me up at [plurk.com profile] thepenguinred to chat first.
Edited 2020-12-02 01:50 (UTC)
ribticklers: (126)

tree lighting

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-02 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
[Sans has been staring at the obnoxiously sparkling big trees with the manic gleam of a man prepared to drop the equivalent of about $160 on something absolutely unnecessary, but he manages to pull himself away from the beautiful sights to answer this question.]

Yeah, sure. Red suit, beard, jolly disposition. [Fur. Sans suddenly finds himself wondering if Undyne is going to try to be Santa back Underground. But yeah, Sans isn't actually talking about the real Santa Claus or anything, but he is not going to clarify that.] Guess he didn't feel like checkin' out the trees today.
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_2bb5e0a8c4538576de3d9433caa02c25_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-02 06:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[Agatha looks between him and giant metallic monstrosities he is eyeing, then gestures that he should, by all means, get in line. They can chat while he gets ready to spend his food money on shiny things.]

It isn't such an insane question in this place. Tonight is his traditional feast.
ribticklers: (126)

[personal profile] ribticklers 2020-12-03 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
Huh, is it? [Sans is happy to get in line to prepare to spend too much money on this tree.] They should've brought some food to go with the trees. I could use a feast. But hey, maybe that's why he's not here. [Sans would go where the feast was, personally.]
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_333e1b658a8f1b4b13ea55a133ffc1a3_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-03 06:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[Agatha can't help it, she gives a small snort of a laugh at that.]

We are are rather poor sight for a feast. Metallic- [What do you even call this? She looks at the item in her hands for a long moment.] Flora is hardly tradition. But it is America.

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sunborne: (388. - 🧭 - NEGOTIATIONS.)

( wildcard aka their first meeting aka dlmskfd. )

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-02 04:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ urrughgh.

hmmrhghgurhg.

hrmhgrhghghhhhhhng.

he doesn't want to wake up yet. daylight tries to burrow himself deeper under his bedcovers and pillows, attempting to keep himself from meeting the morning light. he does force himself to crack open his eye, wanting to make sure he isn't bothering anyone with his tossing and turning, and sees the woman next to him is fast asleep. good, good, he thinks to himself.

...

wait a second.

daylight sits up, eyes wide with panic as he stares down at the form sleeping next to him, and is unable to stop the expletive from exploding out of his mouth: ]


Oh what the fuck-?!
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_92b6c52deadf6bfa4aa958797db0418f_)

let the brain break begin

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-02 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Language.

[He was in a lady's presence. A fully dressed lady (with the period clothing she had found in the closet) that has been pacing around the house for the past half hour, shocked to be able to wake up at all, let alone in this place.

Now, though, she stops at the foot of his bed and takes him in.]


Ah, good morning. What year do you last remember?
sunborne: (414. - 🧭 - NERVOUS LAUGH.)

[personal profile] sunborne 2020-12-03 01:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ it's a good thing someone is taking this in stride.

daylight is a bit too distracted with the fact he has a human body - a completely human body, at that! - to answer her right away. he's patting his cheeks, tugging at them as a comically confused expression grows on his face.

then he remembers she asked a question and answers, ]
Um... 2246. You?
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_11956a03d24830b639590756a2a9e8b2_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-03 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[Okay, that stumbles her a little. She'd made the basic assumption that everyone would at least but from her year- a terrible error. One that she places a hand over her heart to take in for a moment.]

You don't appear to be lying...that is. That is surprising. I was last in the year 1897. It is now, it seems, 1961.

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the_caped_crusader: (Default)

tree lighting

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-02 07:16 am (UTC)(link)
[ bruce hides his hands in his pockets, though the cold doesn't seem to bother him. and while he's acknowledged her, he hasn't quite stopped scanning the crowd. for what? well, it was anyone's guess, but he was certainly fastidious about it. ]

No. But these days, I guess I'm open to anything.
Edited 2020-12-02 07:17 (UTC)
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_3bcf7f2aafee4afc1bb2cddfe0dbf7f5_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-02 06:35 pm (UTC)(link)
My thoughts exactly.

[It might be just be a trick all nuns learn, but somehow she keeps an utterly serious composure and tone even as she cradles her ridiculous treasure.]

You are also from away, I take it?
the_caped_crusader: (Default)

[personal profile] the_caped_crusader 2020-12-04 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
New Jersey. About a six hour flight from here.

[ his eyes narrow just a bit as he tries his best to guess her accent, a little practice in the skill during conversation never hurt. ]

Not as far as Romania, though?
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_c80f5b4609672cf1171b73aad2df8d3c_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-04 07:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Most recently of Saint Mary's Convent, Budapest.

[She gives a wry smile, then matter-of-factly continues.]

1897.

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13thcommander: (meh)

tree lighting

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-02 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[Erwin has had the same impulse, and is also carrying around one of the smaller trees. He's more interested in it for the metal alloy that it's made from than as a decoration, but there's no need for anyone to know that. He's blending in, after all.]

[The question surprises him, and the mere fact that she's asking it tells him that this probably isn't a local. She's another transplant, like himself.
]

I haven't. This is the first I've heard of him.

[Is Santa Claus real? Erwin has no idea.]

Are you familiar with the man?
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_2be85acaf520d22f4fc23e952e76bec3_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-02 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Nicholas Sinterklaas was a bishop in Myra some thousand odd years ago. The saint of children and unwed maidens, among others. Now, it would seem, an American-

[She searches for the word for a moment. Idol? Toy merchant?]

...Symbol of Christmas. Saints do not typically walk the Earth, but then again neither do the dead.
13thcommander: (innocence lost)

[personal profile] 13thcommander 2020-12-03 01:36 pm (UTC)(link)
So he was a real person, at one point.

[And presumably now isn't, although who knows around here. She seems pretty knowledgeable about the subject, and Erwin turns to face her more fully.]

I can't say I know much about this Christmas festival either, or the Halloween from earlier. Is it... expected, to have the dead return during holidays?
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_52f3767ba16ab87f77eb367c5261e65f_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-03 06:10 pm (UTC)(link)
It is not. But I was to be dead myself before arriving here. It seems we must readjust our expectations.

[Sometimes it's better to just get the whole 'I died' thing out of the way. Saves awkwardness later on.]

I hope the child drew the line at calling back saints, however. The Church would have a difficult time explaining their resurrections prior to that of our Lord.

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thotsandprayers: (and dear lady please don't laugh)

tree lighting

[personal profile] thotsandprayers 2020-12-03 04:45 am (UTC)(link)
I can't say that I have.

[Kiara doesn't entirely seem too thrown off by the question though it certainly did seem to come out of nowhere.]

At least, I haven't had the chance to meet the real one yet.

[There are a couple of Santas in Chaldea, just not the actual St. Nick himself. But she imagines the real one could pop up someday? She's not really sure there, but a lot of crazier things have happened in her world.]

Though I feel like that would be quite the experience.
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_79b9969bb6bee2efc1cc3299fafba3a8_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-03 06:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Hm, I would imagine he would have something to say about all of...this.

[She used her free hand to wave at the giant mental tree, and the smaller ones for sale.]

Have you recently arrived, as well?
thotsandprayers: (kidding when they called me a witch)

[personal profile] thotsandprayers 2020-12-04 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
He certainly wouldn't be the only one.

[She knows Agatha meant the trees and whatnot, but she can't think of anyone that doesn't have something to say about any of this.]

And yes, I've found myself stuck here the same as everyone else.

[She figures that's the easier answer than dealing with that weird October vagueness.]

My apologies for not introducing myself first, my name is Kiara. It's a pleasure to meet you.

[She isn't actually sure what surname to give to she just won't for the moment.]
Edited 2020-12-04 04:12 (UTC)
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_570f5e5999fcd21199f57dd6807dc236_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-04 07:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[Agatha smiles a bit at, honestly, the very rare display of good manners in all these visitors. They (herself included) were quite swept up in it all and seemed to forget little things like names]

Agatha Van Helsing, likewise. Where is it you are from, Kiara?

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spaghettimonster: (HUMAN: YORICK)

Winter wonderland

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2020-12-06 04:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[There's a lot of sights to behold around the magical village, even for those used to magical winter villages. Especially for those unaccustomed to tourist traps, and the clutter and salesmanship of the various activities on display.

But there's challenges and frustrations available too, as Papyrus finds at the mailbox outside Santa's workshop. Unaware of Agatha's eavesdropping around, Papyrus complains rhetorically to the illustrations of hippos and children.]


But how can I pick just one thing?? Wouldn't Santa like a few suggestions, so he can pick one...?
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_79b9969bb6bee2efc1cc3299fafba3a8_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-08 07:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[Agatha does pause for a moment, looking to see if there was, indeed, some person there she hadn't noticed before- but no. He is speaking to drawings. Or himself. Or God, she supposed. But given none of those seemed inclined to answer, she took it on herself (in her borrowed elf outfit) to step forward.]

There is no harm in trying. Though greed is a sin.
spaghettimonster: (HUMAN: PUZZLING)

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2020-12-10 08:11 am (UTC)(link)
[It could be he was speaking to any of the above, or even addressing the area in general in hopes someone dressed as she is would help. The elves have seemed very eager to help thus far... But this time a little less so, as Papyrus squints at her in confusion.]

A... sin......

[He drags the sound out longer than necessary, like the meaning of her comment will become clear before he finishes. But human lungs mean he has to break to breathe before long - especially since he's not practiced at holding his breath - and he's no closer to it.]

Is that a Christmas saying? And, what's a sin.
thepsyingnun: (tumblr_b9340ffc2fe4b93a049f56ce5bc62cfe_)

[personal profile] thepsyingnun 2020-12-13 07:09 pm (UTC)(link)
A wrong against God and his son, whose birth this holiday celebrates.

[He isn't the first one that didn't know Christmas she's met, but he is the first one in the Christmas village.]

Or it used to.

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