OPEN ● ● ● Every Christmas is Last Christmas

[lateness]

CHARACTERS: the doctor (12), the doctor (11), clara oswald, river song, and all of you
LOCATION: the mess hall, the kitchens, the simulation room
DATE: december 24th, 25th
CONTENT: team tardis throws a big christmas party for the station
WARNINGS: none for now, will warn as needed (no fires!!!)

PART I
'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS ...

1.0 Inside the kitchen and mess hall, Orbers will find the entire place decked out to the nines (Or elevens! Hohoho). No one knows how this all came together, but you will find almost everything Christmas related decorated along the walls and tables.

Hanging all around the walls are blue Christmas stockings! Each stocking will have the name of Orber etched in gold knitting. Inside each stocking is an array of personalized treats (if your character is a smoker, for example, then they will find a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, etc.)

On the tables at each place setting there are various coloured paper crowns for Orbers to decorate on their head – courtesy of Clara Oswald and her assistant, the Doctor (the chinny one) – and Christmas crackers to share with friends. Go on, then! Pull that cracker, see the assortment of sweets and surprises you’ve received. As far as refreshments go, there is plenty to share amongst everyone! There is eggnog, "naughty" eggnog, cookies, cakes, candy canes and sugar gumdrops. It is a downright delightful spread of treats to indulge and tide you over for before you feast with your teammates.

2.0 Before the main feast is prepared, there are plenty of activities to keep you (or a friend or two) occupied. Do you see those Christmas trees on almost every corner of the station? Yeah, the Doctor(s) got awfully distracted (something about if a hot dog is a sandwich) and these bare trees could use some decorative love. Or perhaps you can express your creative talents in the kitchen, where you may want to test out a new recipe to share with the rest of the class. Whether it be a savoury or a sweet dish, there is sure to be at least one person who might like it.

There is also a magician’s kit lying around if you want to take a crack at learning a few new tricks to show off to others! Or if you wish to partake in any group activity, there is a stack of board games and a deck of cards to play a friendly game of Go Fish! Who knows? The game-world’s your oyster.

3.0 By evening, the mess hall will be set up with napkins and plates and cutlery of varying Christmas-y colours. It isn’t perfect, but nothing ever really is, is it? Especially after the Doctor (the cross Scots one) might have very nearly burned the kitchens down a little earlier – something about improving the heat for the roast. Still, it’s finally time for the Christmas feast! And oh, what a smell there is wafting through the large space. There’s plenty of delicious food to go around – especially using much of the ingredients that had come in through the last supply drop. There are varying plates of savoury and sweet dishes, some recognizable, some a little more ... eclectic (you use what space ingredients you’re given, after all), but all of what the hosts have prepared look ... surprisingly edible, some of it even delicious. Roast veg, gravy, stuffing, biscuits, gingerbread, hot cocoa, marshmallows, something mulled, and sweets!

Of course, the more food, the merrier! If you’ve taken part in the cooking and baking from earlier, arriving with your own special Signature Dish, the Doctors (yes, both of them!) will be so pleased to see it join the rest of the feast.

And for those who might have run across the Doctor’s enthusiastic ramblings on Jammie Dodgers at one point will finally get a chance to try them. They’ll be stacked up to resemble a tree on a plate, sprinkled with (edible) glitter in blue and silver.

PART II
SIMPLY HAVING A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS TIME

4.0 Christmas Morning finds everyone with an open invitation to the simulation room to attend a very merry Christmas morning. Step inside and be taken away to a warm and cozy living room that is elaborately decorated for the holiday. You’ve been decorated for the occasion too, decked out in pajamas and a robe. With slippers to match, everyone that’s a part of Christmas morning will look like they’re ready to play their part in the festivities. There’s a fire crackling in the fireplace, the smell of cinnamon and clove in the air, and the distant sound of traditional Christmas songs playing on an antique radio over in the corner of the room. There’s also a tree, of course, one that almost seems too large to be in such a quaint place. It’s fully decorated, absolutely covered with a variety of kitschy ornaments like Santa Claus on a T-Rex or bears in tutus. There also happen to be ornaments of every single orber present on the station, presented in the form of ridiculous looking little elves.

Around the tree and scattered around the floor are opened gift boxes, wrapping paper strewn about. Toys from the boxes are discarded on the floor and around the room, plastic dinosaurs and robots that come to life when you wind them up. There are ridiculous looking squeaky alien toys, marshmallow launchers, and even a giant stuffed giraffe. Who could all of these toys belong to?

There also happen to be gifts beneath the tree for everyone. There aren’t any labels on the gifts so feel free to choose whichever one you like (but only one, there won’t be any greedy Scrooges here on Christmas!). No matter what size package that is chosen, big or small, there’s a sweater inside: an ugly Christmas sweater for everyone. One that can be put on over your pajamas to take part in an ugly sweater contest once everyone has unwrapped their gifts.

And of course no Christmas morning is complete without some sort of breakfast. Set up in the corner of the room is a small table with pastries and cocoa, with a big bowl of mini marshmallows. There’s coffee present too, for those that prefer their breakfast with a little less sugar. There’s plenty of seating around the living room to grab a leather chair or a spot on the fluffy couch. Or maybe sit in one of the red velvet chairs over by the windows to watch the slow and steady snowfall over a picturesque view of the British countryside.

5.0 As the events of the morning slowly come to an end, the simulation shifts to a quiet little town. There’s snow on rooftops and colorful lights lining buildings that manage to glisten and glow even in the daylight. The entire street is completely over the top with decoration; fresh garlands that smell of pleasant pine, miniature christmas trees decorated from top to bottom, and vibrant red bows are just about everywhere. There’s no hustle and bustle here, just a relaxed afternoon in the most Christmasy town ever.

The smell of cider and gingerbread baking are in the air, brought on by a bakery that’s open for a visit. Want to make a gingerbread house? There are materials set out to do that. There are things for gingerbread people too, if that’s more your bag.

There’s a bookstore filled with all kinds of books. If you’re not from Earth and are curious about Christmas, there’s plenty of children’s books on the matter waiting for you to enjoy. They’re set up on an elaborate display up front, though anyone is free to browse around and look through what else they have to offer.

A toy store, magician’s shop, and a boisterous pub round off the shops found on the street. There’s street vendors selling chestnuts that have been roasted over an open fire, wassail, and marshmallows for roasting. There’s also a band playing live music, Christmas carols of course. Join in and sing along or don’t. No one’s going to judge you either way. Take your time to enjoy everything or rush through because it’s too much Christmas, all in your face at once. Either way, the marketplace is present for hours in the afternoon and leading into the evening hours.

6.0 As night falls everyone is guided out of town and down a candle lit path that leads to a frozen over pond. It’s been set up for ice skating, with skates set aside for anyone that wants a pair. There’s baubles of lights set out all around the area, and the moon hangs high overhead. No seriously, the moon looks incredibly huge tonight. It’s blue glow reflects on the ice along with the warm yellow glow of all the lights. It’s a welcoming atmosphere, inviting anyone that’s brave enough to put on skates and take part.

The band from the Christmas market earlier are back to play throughout the night, playing quieter songs mixed in with lively pieces that are meant to get people speed skating around the ice.

Set a short distance away from the ice is a long table, with plenty of mismatched seats. Fairy lights twinkle overhead, and are also glowing from inside glass canisters that make up the centerpieces on the table. There’s dark blue galaxy dinnerware at every place, and a small feast spread out so no matter where someone sits there’s plenty within reach. It always manages to stay warm, and nothing ever seems to run out. It’s a perfect place to take a break and grab a quick meal, or just sit and chat with someone while you both enjoy a drink.

The area around the pond can be explored, so go crazy playing in the snow or whatever it is you want to do there. Just don’t wander too far off from the group. There may or may not be razor-toothed snowmen keeping you from going too far. They may hiss or blow snow in your face, but they probably won’t try to bite anyone.

🎄 After all of that is said and done, Orbers may find themselves drawn towards a small bonfire billowing from the center of this quaint little town. But it isn’t just the scent of warm Maplewood dancing underneath your nose. There sitting on top of a milk-crate is The Doctor (12) playing a jaunty little tune from his electric guitar. Orbers are more than welcome to sit around the bonfire and reflect on these past few months and where they might find themselves in the future.

If you find yourselves by your lonesome fear not! The Doctor (11) will be there offer you a hug (or smooch if you’re feeling saucy).

No matter what strife you have been through this year, just remember ...

Each and every one of your lives is a story. So best make it a good one.

Comments

[bindsthedead]

Sensible. The dead should be past such concerns. But grief and loss... those are burdens for the living to bear.

[Candles and incense? Well, the Dead feared fire, although a candle probably wouldn't be enough to- oh. Right. More of a spiritual thing, and Itachi's world didn't need to worry about the dead returning.]

In the Old Kingdom... Charter mages will cast spells on graveyards, to ensure that necromancers cannot desecrate or enslave those buried there. There are similar rituals for old battlefields.

[Like the wind-flutes her father carved for the perimeter. That she will need to carve anew, as the power of those bindings died with him.]

Although those are less rituals, and more- what we need to do to protect the living.

[calmness]

And it... can be consumed? [not by humans but robots, he supposes, consume different things than they do.

he should not be surprised.] Why would it be a joke? [there's genuine curiosity in his voice, a tilt to his head.]

[laviny]

Okay. The chipped polish you have now doesn’t really match the whole…proper, put-together demeanor you have anyway, you know.

[She finishes her mug of cocoa and stands.]

I have to put this away and then I will get the polish remover. I’ll be right back. You can have one of these in the mean time.

[She tosses him a piece of Russian candy as she heads out.

She will return a little while later with a her bottle of nail polish remover.]

[coordination]

The faces you're making make me wonder about that.

[ Regardless, he heaves a heavier than usual huff. ] But if that's the case, then, good! [ He's not placated by that, because he's Yzak. But at the very least, Blue's presence is something else to focus on so his prickly thoughts get pushed back the slightest bit. ]

What are you even doing here? [ Just chilling on a window sill? ] Were you headed somewhere?

[coordination]

Well, if you change your mind and need a hand, I can bring you here.

You did say you'd like to try, after all. [ Instead of downright saying no. ]

[flickerandfade]

"...A cloaking device that my crew used to hide from organics which hated all mechanoid life, actually," Megatron says with a muted shake of his head.

"It looked exactly like this tree."

rhysand. — a court of thorns and roses, ota

[business]

✨ CHRISTMAS EVE —

➊
( by the fae's perspective, all celebrations should've concluded on the 21st — the winter solstice. longest night of the year. feyre's birthday. it's the latter which has a damper on his spirits, an otherwise chipper and chatty man rendered instead to solemn quietude, a melancholic air about him. brooding, one might say, by the swell of thick shadows that seem to follow in his footsteps, crowding whatever corner he decides to occupy inside the mess hall.

to say he's surprised by a stocking gifted to him is an understatement. curiosity penetrates his sour mood and —

when he pulls out a small velvet bag, he manages to crack a smile, dipping his fingers inside it. to the nearest person, he reaches out — playfully dotting their nose with a iridescent green glitter. )

Stardust. ( he explains, lightning up at the sight. ) To make wishes on.

➌
( the feast needed some more alcohol, right? surely it was lacking. rhysand himself is sporting a tipsy lean to his step by the time dinner comes around, and to the table he brings several bottles of multicolored wine — all products from his home, tainted with the fruit of faerie food. of course, the fae like to play tricks with their human counterparts, which means they have effects outside of what one would call ordinary for alcohol. pleasure and good feelings accompany a rose colored wine swirling with gold glitter, while debauchery and mischief take hold of one colored like the night sky, black and shining purple, dotted with silver stars. while the entire side effects of the wine are flexible enough, all wines will have the effect of making people want to get up and dance, the desire almost impossible to resist.

of course, rhys will stand guard and stop anyone from dancing until their feet bleed. but — until then, he's happy to spread the cheer, encouraging people to taste and be merry. )

✨ CHRISTMAS DAY —

➍
( a sluggish smile crests his features while he cups a little self-shaped him in his palm. for awhile, rhysand takes quite a bit of joy out of looking at everyone's dorky ornaments, reaching out and poking some people in their pudgy little faces, feeling an odd bit of tenderness at knowing people. recognizing them. befriending them.

to the person beside him, also looking at their elf — )

Should we make them kiss? ( he holds his visage out, pointedly. )

➎
( in a somewhat hilarious sight, rhysand can be found inside the bookstore, stacks of books surrounding him, lip bitten as he furiously reads through a dozen different children's tales on father christmas. soaking in as much knowledge as he can get, apparently, as if worried it'll all run away from him tomorrow.

he is rapt, in his studies. stick around long enough and you'll hear him curiously hum after grabbing a new book off the shelf, eyes twinkling in morbid delight. )

Aha. Oberon. ( rhys tuts his tongue. ) Yikes.

➏
( sour mood apparently entirely crushed by the time christmas dinner comes around, rhys decides to be bit more of an active participant in the festivities — sitting at the table, drunkenly and animatedly conversing with people, comfortable enough to bump elbows and trade laughter. despite all the food that keeps popping up on the set plates? that brownie in your hand looks extremely good. rhy has been watching this particular treat come in close proximity to your mouth about a dozen times, but you keep getting interrupted, by conversation or laughter or otherwise merriment.

so. he decides he must act, or otherwise face all consequences of missing out on a great fuss of laughter. the next time the brownie comes near your mouth, rhys cranes his neck over your shoulder and steals the bite from your hand, tearing it away and, before chewing, turning to smack a chocolately kiss on your cheek.

and then he doesn't get to eat it at all because he's practically spitting it out on the floor, laughing as he is. such a tricky fae! stealing treats and kisses. )

✨ WILDCARD —

🎄
( anything else! feel free to pm or reach me at trashmouth for any questions! if you have the time, i'd also appreciate if you could fill in my opt in/out post for rhys' mind reading abilities — thank u in advance, and merry christmas 2 all. )

Newton Geiszler | Pacific Rim

[groupiedrifter]

Part I | 1.0 ► T'was the Night Before Christmas

[Newt obviously had to come, though it was — shockingly — not of his own volition at first. Clara had been adamant that he get out, enjoy the festivities and loosen up after... uh. That really not so good first half of the month. Now that he's fully recovered and medicated, he's been feeling better and better with the days. Physically, anyway. Mentally, it's still a lot of stuff up in the air.

But y'know, Clara's right. He's gotta get out there! Especially now that he's been officially cleared from the infirmary and open to enjoying a real Christmas for the first time in... like... a while. The PPDC was pretty hectic in the last years of its existence, and its Christmas parties for the staff certainly weren't grandiose.

He looks a little awkward where he takes up space. Kind of like a magician who has forgotten his own trick or a record that skipped and can't seem to find the song again, glancing around like he doesn't quite fit in. You'd think he wasn't the most energetic, social creature in the room like most other days just looking at him, but it really does feel as if he's a bike that just lost a training wheel, wobbly and inexperienced. He feels... lackluster. Even guilty, maybe, that he hadn't helped with any of this.

He's just off from what happened earlier, that's all. And you know what? Fuck it, man.

After a mental pep-talk, he's donning a bright blue paper crown that Clara's bestowed upon him and cracking open a bottle of really nice wine to soothe his nerves. Somewhere after an hour of thawing that 'social butterfly' part of his personality again, he's got a plate of cookies stacked dangerously high and seems far more loose. In fact, he turns to the nearest concerned spectator of his third glass of wine and grins with rosy cheeks and a far more easygoing, Newton way about him.]

Hey, I'm allowed a couple glasses, okay? A little wine doesn't break the doctor's rules.

[He's more than happy to get pulled into whatever chaos awaits him; totally not gonna let everything that happened screw with their holiday fun. Hell, he might even get himself in the spirit enough to sneak off with anyone who'll take him. Everything outside of the festivities right now is too complicated, too much of a struggle to think about, so if he ends up finding someone who's willing to reciprocate under the mistletoe, he's also goddamn willing to do more than just that, because he's a needy bastard.

Just like the usual Newt, he thinks. Same ol' same ol'.

Get into the festivities and shut that goddamn brain off for a little while!

Hell yeah.]

Part I | 3.0 ►Christmas Feasting (and Overeating)



[... Huuurugh... hell nooooo...

The Christmas Feast was. So good. So good. Too good, as a matter of fact. If anyone's wondering where Newton has vanished to, it's on the nearest couch, splayed out dramatically with his shirt properly untucked. He looks turkey drunk. So maybe he might have overindulged in all of the food? It was totally worth it, even if he can hardly move now.

Jokingly to no one in particular, he hums:]

If I lay heeeere... If I just laaaay heeeere... Would you lie with meee and just forget the world...?

[This is kind of nice, though. He's definitely on the verge of sleeping right now.

But you know, duty calls — and there's someone in particular stuck in the infirmary right now, so he finally gets up after some time to make a plate of food from the still overflowing feast set before him, determined to deliver it to a particular lab partner, even if things are... murky and complicated.]

Part II. | 4.0 ► Anyway, Here's Wonderwall

[Alright, so it's not Wonderwall. Instead it's just Newton, primed in his ugly sweater (which you have to admit is a great ugly sweater), holding an acoustic guitar and strumming the chords with a sort of quiet about him that is pretty unusual; if you've ever wandered by the lab or his room, you'll have probably heard the unfortunate thudding loudness that his electric guitar provides during the off hours on the Ximilia.

Maybe the Christmas mood just tranquilizes him a little, okay? He sits in the cozy living room after people have decorated the tree, looking surprisingly thoughtful. It's not until he notices someone else has wandered over during his absent-minded string picking that he looks up, eyebrows raised, and gives them a grin.]

Got any requests? I specialize in rock ballads circa 1960 to 2025, but I've been known to have a few curveballs up my ugly sweater sleeves.

[... He grins.]

I take payment for my musical labor in the form of mistletoe-free kisses and holiday-themed sugar cookies.

[Newt's kidding, of course; he'll play you whatever.]

Just don't make fun of my crap singing.

Part II. | 🎄 ► Happy Holidays

[At the small bonfire, Newt sits with his chin in his hands and watches The Doctor blasting some notes on that electric guitar, a little gleam of amusement in his eyes. It's not that cold in here, but even the littlest bit of chill has colored his nose and cheeks.]

Maybe I should go get mine, too... The old man could use some competition.

[Newt holds out a present, wrapped neatly for you; yeah, you. If you've spoken to him or given him the time of day in person, you're probably gonna get something from him; it's just fate, and you're not gonna escape it. Now... what that present is, obviously, will entirely depend on the person he's giving it to.

Either way, as he holds it out, he smiles confidently and says:]

Happy Christmas and Merry Holidays.

(OOC: For this prompt, I'll be giving any responses a tailored gifted item! They'll be relatively small gifts, save for extremely close CR, but he'll definitely have something for ya' if you've spoken to him and have a good rapport with him. :))

[blackfire]

（ you could not possibly meet anyone who cares less about his physical appearance, gosh. he troubles himself to look presentable and is fastidiously tidy for his own preference, but as to the specifics of how he may look? he truly, entirely cannot be bothered.

but he's agreed to let her do it, and finds himself holding the odd little sweet, which he turns over in his hand. the earpiece translates the cyrillic helpfully for him as bird's milk, which... seems to be a very strange, possibly colloquial thing beyond his comprehension, a literalist's translation of something lost in nuance.

he unwraps it, and by the time yelena has returned has only ventured to sample a corner. it isn't bad — but despite his abiding love of all things sweet, he's more one for slow, savory eating when given half a chance. ）

This is something from your home?

（ it's said with an indication to the wrapper, which he has folded into a small origami cat while waiting for her return. not boredom, exactly, more curiosity if he could with the odd foiled surface. ）

[blackfire]

It stands to reason.

（ he reaches out and touches the little paper boat gently, rocking it with a finger as if it were alight on the water, and then lets it rest. ）

Given your responsibility, it must be difficult to be away from your duties.

[bindsthedead]

Yes. Although Abhorsen's duty is not just laying the dead to rest... but also restraining dangerous magical forces, and dealing with those who seek to traffic with them- necromancers and Free magic sorcerers.

[Sabriel stares at the boat, watching as it comes back to rest.]

Helping make sure the orbs are contained is... consistent with that responsibility. But I won't say the promise of my regret being undone isn't also part of it.

[If her friends will be restored to life in the process, all the better.]

[blackfire]

（ he meant more that his preference isn't to receive gifts at all, but you know what — she is a tiny force of nature and he is not going to argue with what is obviously meant as a generous gesture. he simply inclines his head. ）

It would be impolite of me to refuse.

（ so... he won't. ）

Happy holidays

[bindsthedead]

For me? [The simulated cold has actually brought some traces of color to Sabriel's normally pale face. But she seems to be enjoying the festivities, regardless.]

Er- A bright midwinter to you too. [Sabriel offers the holiday greeting she's most familiar with, even as she accepts the gift.]

Can I open it here, or should I wait?

[groupiedrifter]

[He tucks his hands into his back pockets, a little overeager and hopeful at the sight of Sabriel holding the gift in-hand; he's pretty sure he picked a good one for her, but you just never know, right?]

Of course, go for it! Don't let me keep you waiting!

[The present in question isn't anything too fancy: a little wooden 'book'. Or rather, something that looks like a wooden book. When it's opened up, the insides light up and create a small nightlight of sorts.]

I was brainstorming gifts, and I remembered one of my college kids had one... Figured you'd make good use of it.

[morethan084]

[Smiling up at him, Daisy scoots over to give him room on the log next to her.]

It’s not what I’m used to, but, yeah. Pretty much.

[Despite a lot of people having already called her out for spotting the two of them together, Daisy’s still hesitating to show any affection in public. With how cold it is, however, she instinctively scoots closer to him to try and soak in some of his warmth.]

Are you having fun?

3

[morethan084]

[Daisy isn't trying to get wasted tonight, but she is high thanks to Kovacs. It just makes the food even more delicious, and she's already going back for seconds. Reaching for another roll, someone's holding a cup out to her from across the table and she looks up to see it's Rhysand. Squinting playful at him, Daisy slowly pulls her hand back with the roll.]

Last time you gave me a drink it changed my hair color.

billy butcher ( the boys )

[cheapbastard]

01. CHRISTMAS CHEER

( listen, even billy's willing to admit that this is pretty nice. been a long fuckin' time since he's really celebrated christmas so seeing all the decorations and shit in front of his eyes is like a punch to the gut.

last time he did this, becca was with him and he was a different man. and then everything went to shit and here he was, different again. different again and holding up a pea green stocking with bright white tufts of fluff on it. once he spots his name on the top of the stocking, he starts looking through it. if there's another billy around, oh well.

his maudlin mood slips away when he pulls out a very nice bottle of bourbon, a shiny pocketknife and a machine gun. )

Oooh, someone's given me an automatic weapon. Beautiful.

( that wasn't true. it wasn't a machine gun but he wanted to say it loud enough to see what happened. it was actually a wad of thick socks that actually do look pretty warm. )

Merry Christmas, everyone.

03. ATE TOO MUCH, PASS OUT

( the food's good. he's not going to admit that out loud but however the fucks had managed to find a rare steak and a baked potato for him, he doesn't know but he's not going to take it for granted either. he eats every single piece and once he's done, decides he's going to uncap the bourbon from the stocking.

he takes a long pull from the bottle and then even offers it up to a few people around him. maybe the food's put him in a good mood, maybe he's just so full that he can't think straight but hey, he's decided to be nice.

it's not christmas spirit. he's not that kind of guy. he just wants other people to get drunk with him. )

5.0 BE MERRY

( it shouldn't surprise anyone to find billy in one of the pubs that gets conjured up by whatever this whole thing is. he's not going to ask questions because he's in a good fuckin' mood. he's had a few drinks and eaten a donut that's left its powdered sugar mark on his beard.

and now? now, he's standing on the bar countertop, leading the patrons in a raucous singalong of jingle bells. he's not even drunk, he's just in a decent fuckin' mood for once and maybe being away from superheroes, homelander and constant tension is good for him.

he stomps his way across the grainy wood of the bar, swinging his bottle like he's a maestro, directing the denizens.

he's going to deny this happened later but for now, he's actually feeling pretty good. )

6.0 DOWN WE GO

( his ass is going to be so bruised. he doesn't even know why he'd decided to go ice skating other than trying to show that he could skate if he wanted to.

no, he could not. he could not ice skate. he'd managed to stay on his feet for a few seconds and then one leg had gone one way and the other had gone the opposite and he'd done the fuckin' splits on the ice before he ended up on his back.

and that's where he was staying because he doesn't really know how to get the hell up when he's got these shoe knives on his fuckin' feet. he lays there, watching people skate by him when he finally yells: )

Hey, how about getting me the fuck up?

( yes, please help him. )

10. WILDCARD

( for anything that i haven't included above. )

5a

[aurable]

[ Drift had spent the majority of his time leading up to the famed Earth holiday from a distance. Circling the fringes of all the excitement and build up with a quiet curiosity. It was apparent that whatever religious origins the holiday had were only pretense for the festivities from the start. All its trappings stitched together parts cannibalized from the traditions of beliefs no one remembered the names of. Not that Drift was judgmental—it was all very enlightening what and how humans adapted their ideologies as they rapidly changed with every generation.

There we certain aspects of it he even found himself joining in on.

He especially enjoyed the new look for the simulation room when Christmas came at last. A holorform was a necessity at this point. It would have been tricky to peruse the stores at his normal size. Not mention—cobblestone was murder on his treads. The quiet and cozy atmosphere of the bookstore was his first refuge from the boisterous and colorful celebration suffused through the brightly lit streets.

Winding his way through the organized chaos of the shelves, Drift eyes a familiar crown of dark hair just peeking out from behind a wall of stacked books. He leaned over like her shoddily constructed fortress just in time to catch the moment a flush blossomed across her face. ]

Was this one about the history of maritime law? [ Drift asked cheerfully, tapping a finger on the spine of a book; its cover painted with the scene of an open-shirt sailor holding a fainting woman in the middle of a storm on the deck of a ship. ]

[naloxone]

[ it's second nature, isn't it? as the eldest child in a household that values hard work and ethics, these small acts of duty become practically ingrained from the moment that second child is born. just like that, you become a functioning member of society, with all its expectations balanced on your still-growing shoulders.

marta never minded it. or, if she did, she doesn't remember. it's all just become another part of her, so much so that even now, away from those expectations and her mother's eyes, she still defaults to values long since learned.

and if it helps ease the workload of a particularly aggressive little cleaning robot? that's just two birds, one stone. ]

Sure, I'm already done with it.

[ she'd gathered up as much of the tinsel and glitter from the floor that she could, at least, though she knows it'll take more than a single pass for the more stubborn decorations. she crosses the short distance between them to hand him said broom, a polite smile on her lips. there are many of the crew she still hasn't seen, and many more she hasn't spoken to. while she had appreciated his company and his own accountability, she hadn't wanted to break the comfortable working silence any more than he had.

but now that he's spoken up... ]

Have we met yet? I'm Marta.

[naloxone]

[ marta starts like a guilty child, withdrawing her hand where she'd just been tracing the frost off the colored glass of the pub. inside, she can hear roaring laughter and the clinking of glass, but her full attention falls on the woman just a few feet behind her, smiling with a light in her eyes that is strangely both comforting and unnerving. ]

System? [ the word is echoed like she's never quite heard it before. ] You mean the simulation room?

[spoilers]

Much like it, yes.

[ River hasn't made any secret of the fact she died before arriving here, but she hasn't exactly made an announcement of it, either. The Library always poses an interesting subject to explain. ]

Except I was a part of it and quite aware none of it was real. [ She nods toward the window. ] The way you were drawing on the glass there just now. I would have felt it, but...as a memory, the pressure, the texture, the cold. Imperfect and faded at the edges.

[spoilers]

"Bad memories, then," she concludes. "I'm sorry."

And she genuinely is. Not for the tree so much, but for the fact it had been necessary for such a device to have existed. She passes as human easily enough, and she lets most people believe she is, but she understands being hated simply for existing in the Universe. And he is what he is.

How uncomfortable she imagines it would be to try to confine a being of his size.

"Hate only breeds more hate. It's a vicious circle."

[naloxone]

[ sorry, peter, she can't help but laugh at his reaction just a little bit. ]

Not voodoo, no. Just an effigy. A doll, see?

[ she holds the stick figure up to show him, though perhaps it's not nearly as comforting as she thought it might be... given its head is still on fire.

maybe she should explain. ]

My family and I have this tradition every year. We would do it for New Year's but I figured... there's twigs and fire now, so.

You make one of these. Every twig, every twine. It represents something bad that happened that past year. So when you burn it, all the bad goes with it.

[blackfire]

（ the nurse. he studies her a moment, the red-black of the sharingan in sharp focus on her form, and then: ）

We've spoken.

（ is he

is he going to elaborate? it seems at least not immediately, because he takes the broom from her without another word and sets to his task — cleaning up his corner of the room. it isn't until he's clued into the fact that normal people, perhaps, require rather more context than that so he continues: ）

Itachi. The ninja.

（ #helping. ）

4.0

[coordination]

[ Yzak has also unwrapped a sweater that is going largely ignored, thank you very much.

Newton's strumming catches his attention though. Yzak may even be lowkey glad that he's feeling good enough to come and partake in festivities, since Hermann certainly isn't. ]

I have no cookies on hand and I'm not even acknowledging that first one.

[ He looks off to the side, though, this is a simulation, real as it feels. ]

I guess I can offer you backup to your playing, if you want that. I haven't gotten much of a chance to play the violin I got in Braccia.

I'm not exactly a singer, either. [ His one, single flaw. ]