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

[bossily]

[Of course he knows. She hadn't expected anything else of him but to pick up on it. He reads everyone well, but her moreso. With as close as they've gotten the past couple of months, he'd recognize the weight of her emotions in an instant.

He knows it's time, knows what this talk has to be about. And he must know that it's killing her, each and every word she says carefully chosen so they'll do as little damage to him as possible. She cares for him greatly. You don't give yourself completely to someone, body and mind, let them carry your emotions, without there being love. And she will always love him. That's the part that hurts the most. Even when she loves someone, she can't stop herself.

She has to do this to protect him. She cares for him too much to let him be another casualty of her life with the Doctor. This is her choice, and she feels the tears building before she can even get out a word in response. A shaky exhale later, she's trying.]

I can't do this to you, Takeshi.

[Her voice is thick with the tears she refuses to let fall just yet. And before he has time to speak she keeps going, to clarify what she means.]

If we keep going down this path we're on, there's only one way it will end. And I can't let you get closer and closer, till I can't tell where you end and I begin. Because if I do, it's going to end so much worse than this.

[Shame creeps into her eyes as she looks up at him. Because of course she's ashamed. She's guilty for the person she is, for the choices she knows she'll always make in the end. She desperately wishes that she could be what he needs, be the person that deserves him. But she doesn't. She can't be trusted with his heart, and the realization of that earlier in the day was a devastating blow. She can't be trusted with her own heart, her choices constantly selfish and reckless.

And now they stand here at the end, her eyes meeting his in the glow of the fire burning bright nearby. A tear finally slips free, and she lets it fall. This isn't something done lightly. It's painful and it's heartbreaking. But it has to be done before she will make choices that hurt him worse than this. If you love someone, you have to recognize when it's best to let them go.]

[kovach]

[ none of this is a surprise, with the acknowledgement that there would always be an end date to this, that his record for fleeting romances has proven the fatality of each and every single one of them. from the moment she'd first kiss him, to the moment he started to hold onto her tight within his arms upon his bed, to the moment he made the choice to do anything to save her — he knew it wouldn't end with she and him together.

but somehow, despite the recognition of it all, he hadn't considered what he would actually come to feel once she said the words out loud, turning expectation into reality and shattering his temporary fall towards something blissful, a momentary lapse into a false sense of peace from the ongoing war he's been fighting for nearly three centuries.

he hears her words, but a part of him wishes he can't listen.

his mouth is dry, something rasping against his throat, like he's trying to swallow down the truth of it all. he's always been a realist, but for a little while, she actually made him believe in a fantasy, one where it wasn't so impossible to feel so alone, so trapped, and he knows he's been an idiot for letting himself get carried away.

eyes turned down away from her, he's aware he can't disguise the pained stare, even if he remains still, quiet until he finally speaks. ]

Running away together, jumping into that pocket life, letting me take your hand and ... getting away from everything, just you and me — [ he lifts his eyes slowly, voice still barely a whisper, albeit thick as he fights to hold himself together. ] You never once believed in that, did you?

[bossily]

[There's a slight hitch of her breath as she hears his tone of voice. She knows it's coming, but to actually hear it out in the open is a twist of the knife she's put into herself. And then his eyes lift up to hers, and she looks back to him.]

I did.

[Her own voice is a raspy whisper. Her eyes don't leave his, because she wants him to see the honesty that's there. She sees him, who he really is, and knows that she'll be one of the few people who will always be able to see him. Whether or not he allows her the opportunity after this remains to be seen. She doesn't need to know him as intimately as she does to be able to see the pained look in his eyes. The knowledge that she's the cause of his pain is enough to make her want to lie, just so she can make it better.

To tell him that this is fine, everything is fine. She can let them stay in the illusion that what they have is meant to last a little longer. Just like the fantasy that she had been trapped in with Danny on Christmas. Safe and warm, reality completely ignored. She had made her own reality then, and they could do it now.

Only it wouldn't be healthy for either of them. The illusion would come tumbling down around them in shards and pieces, stabbing through both their hearts in a way far more painful than quiet words exchanged two months into a relationship that was doomed to fail from the start.

That thought is a stark reminder as to the fact that she can't lie to him. She's never lied to him, and she isn't about to start now.]

But you can't run from fixing the regret you came here to change. And I can't run from the fact that I'm here on borrowed time.

[kovach]

[ if he'd truly listened to himself, he would never have believed it either, knowing that fantasies like that were just as manufactured as the constructs he'd been train to take apart, fragments of fiction stitched together like a shield, a weapon, but ultimately just a pretty lie.

except he had started to believe it, even in little ways, just from the way she'd coax out the rare lift of a smile, from serene moments in having the clutch of her fingers pull him down steady to the ground, from the way she could peer into his eyes and see the corners of him that were so often left unseen or ignored. without realizing just how far it would go, clara oswald had done something to him, and remembering the way he'd practically mocked the idea that she had ever believed this to be some fantasy adventure, he'd been lured into the very same.

he should have been better guarded to it, but his guards had come down for her and now he's standing here bare and vulnerable in front of her, battling with himself with both the hurt and logic of accepting this as it is.

but then she says those words — you can't run from fixing the regret you came here to change.

he knows she doesn't know, what he's doing, what he's given up for her, and somehow this is a hard hit to reality that if he's ever going to make sure he follows through, he actually would need to give her up. with his price — being with her was never going to be in the cards.

they'll never have a happy ending together. but at the very least, he'll fucking fight to make sure she gets hers. ]

You're right. [ he says quietly, tone deep, eyes still pained but hardening as his voice begins to sharpen. ] You and me ... we don't work. This little daydream we built up — it was temporary, it was fiction, it was an escape, it was you jumping into my bed desperate to kill time, to play damsel while you waited for him to find out so he could save you, right?

[ he already feels the pain in his gut, how it wrenches him. but he knows how to do it well, to dig up lie and lie and make it stick, make it unbearable until he's left rotten. ]

Cause that's what's gonna happen, isn't it? You toss me aside here now and then you'll go running back to the Doctor. Just wanted to dangle the line a little? Make him jealous for a while? Have some goddamn dignity, Clara. [ he leans into her, makes sure it's tight in his words, that it hits, that it burns. ] So, yeah, you're right — I'm gonna focus on my own damn regret, because all of this? You and me? It was a waste of goddamn time.

[bossily]

[Each and every word he says creates a sharp pain within her that she isn't sure she'll easily heal from. It's a punch to both the gut and her heart, when she isn't sure her heart could crumble into anymore pieces. He's not right, but it's not as if she can say so. How weak and pathetic would she seem then, crying and begging him not to think that when it isn't the truth?

She could yell and scream, and a part of her feels like she should. She's good at being defensive. But she doesn't get to defend herself when she's the one doing this. She's a bad person, and she knows it. It's only better that he sees it too.

But then he just keeps going, each word more intentionally hurtful than the last. And by the time he's done it looks like he's stabbed her in the heart and twisted the knife ten times over. But the look of hurt quickly subsides, replaced with something dark and empty. She's withdrawn in on herself, trying to manage the weight of what she's feeling combined with the force of the emotions that are threatening to shut her down completely.]

The Doctor doesn't even know. [Her words come out sharp and accusatory. He doesn't know about them, doesn't know about anything. Bringing him into this was a low blow.] Because like you said, this all was a -

[She can't even finish that sentence. The weight on her shoulders crumbles, and she glances past him to the path up ahead. It's away from the bonfire, away from everyone else. She can't keep looking at him with the way he's looking at her now, with contempt and hatred making her feel smaller than she already knows she is.

Her feet shift, and she almost just leaves him standing there with his bitterness and his anger and his regret. The path ahead is tempting. Move on alone, as she knows she's meant to do from now on. It's only her knowing that she doesn't walk away, not when she's needed, that keeps her firmly planted before him.]

This was -

[She tries to speak again, looking back up at him. But no further words come out. Realization sinks in, her mouth drawing into a tight line. He wants to make her hurt, and he's just struck deep and done that. She's been rendered speechless for once in her life, sucking up her pride so she can let him have this. Clara Oswald isn't willing to be a punching bag for anyone, but he's earned the right to have her stand there and take a little more. Anything if it makes this easier on him.

So much for dignity.]

It's good you finally see I'm a waste of time.

[She finally agrees with him, voice barely above a whisper. Whether it's to agree with him because she absolutely loathes herself right now or because she wants him to say all he needs to say to make himself feel better, she isn't sure. Does it even matter? Does anything she does or feel even matter in the long run? What's the point in engaging in this precious borrowed time here on the station if she only leaves a trail of pain and heartache in her wake? She really shouldn't be having an existential crisis in the middle of a poorly executed breakup, but here she is, being impossible.]

[kovach]

[ he could see how much she's hurting, the shifting pain in her eyes with every harmful word that leaves his mouth, and he knows that he could just keep going, bashing it all in harder until he leaves her a crumpled mess of hurt, until the knife is so deep, it's as if he's looking to kill her all over again.

it makes it all that much harder to withstand his own control, because as she stares at him with those wide eyes of hers, brightness extinguished to something dark and pain, he wants nothing more than to bring his arms around her, to embrace her in the way that's become familiar, to paint his lips against her hair, her temple, her brow, her lips. he wants to assure her she's worth more than any piece of garbage that says otherwise, that she deserves the world, that she deserves to live, that he'd do anything to make sure of it.

i got you, he'd said. i know, she'd replied.

but he's made a liar of himself, and he wonders how much his eyes give him away, if what she said about always being able to see him is true. if she could see him now and know that he's lying, that she's the first thing in a very long time that's made him believe in happiness, that he's risking every piece of himself just to keep her alive.

he wonders, but he hopes she doesn't know, because then this is all for nothing. and he has to make sure she hates him, that she doesn't want to keep him around, that she finds a chance for her happy ending where she actually wants to be. ]

Well, not a complete waste of time. [ he aims to keep his stare dark, not steering away from her. if he does, then he gives in. he has to make it hurt. ] You were a pretty decent fuck while it lasted.

[bossily]

[Her still broken arm lashes upward and outward, hand coming into sharp contact with his cheek. The pain that shoots through her is instant and immense, and she curses under her breath as she retracts her arm back close to her chest. There's no fire in her eyes though, that's been put out. If she had any hope of scraping up her dignity, he's just gone and smashed the broken pieces all to hell.

She does, however, promptly put her other hand over her mouth. She tries to hold in the sob that comes tearing out of her, because this isn't how she wanted this to end. She had hoped that there was a way they could remain friends. But she had been so, so stupid to hope for that.

They were over, and now this was all there was. She looks completely numbed by the harsh reality. ]

Do you really think -

[She cuts herself off, having to turn away so she can shake her broken arm and mouth the word fuck about ten times in a row. Why didn't she think before doing that? If she hadn't acted on pure instinct, then she could've gone in with her good hand.

It's with a shuddering exhale that she turns around to face him once again. There's a dangerous edge in her eyes now, something that happens to desperate people when you give them hope and take it away.]

You're full of shit, Takeshi Kovacs. I will always see you, the real you, no matter how angry you are. No matter how much you want to make me hurt. I took something wonderful and good and shattered it to a thousand pieces. And do you know what? It's beautiful. You and I, while it lasted, we were beautiful. And one day, you'll pick up the pieces, and you'll realize how stupid you thought I was, to actually believe what you're saying.

[The problem is, she does believe them. She doesn't believe that he thinks them. But she definitely believes these things about herself.]

And maybe one day, you'll be able to look at me with something other than hate and disappointment. Maybe one day we can be friends, like we were before I ruined everything. But you listen to me, because I'm only saying this once.

[Any harshness she might have had with anyone else is completely absent. She's talking through her tears, sounding like a complete mess.]

If you ever dare to speak to me this way again, I'll detach something from you.

[And given the insult he just threw her way, he's free to take that however he'd like. It's a half-hearted attempt to scrape herself up and appear like she's still got some fight left in her.]

[kovach]

[ the slap is sharp but probably not nearly as painful for him as it likely is for her, and if this were a different moment, their circumstances of a different fight, then he might go on scolding her for doing something so stupid as to hit him with her bad arm. but all he can do is stay where he is, to hold himself together to maintain his facade of emptiness, of complete lack of emotion, even while it swirls and tugs and rips him apart from the inside.

because just as his words had hurt her, hers do the same in a different manner, reminding him of just how beautiful they really had been, of the short but undeniable bliss that came with every moment, with dreamless sleeps that brushed away the weight of his nightmares, with waking up to the scent of her shampoo against his nose where her hair had tangled itself where she rested at his collar, with silencing the hallucinations of his past that so often came to haunt him but seemed to disappear whenever she was in the room.

he knows what he's losing here, but it was already lost before he even spoke the first word. now it's just a matter of committing to what he's started even if she's too stubborn to believe him. ]

What the hell do you really know about me, Clara?

[ the question almost isn't even part of the act, because he knows there's so many pieces of his past she hasn't seen, even if she'd peeked into slivers of old ghosts. but he knows what he is, why he isn't meant for this.

he steps forward, grinding his teeth as he forces himself to look into her crying eyes. ]

I was CTAC SpecOps — a government-issued assassin. You know what they do to make someone like me? They burn out every evolved violence-limitation instinct in the human psyche. And they replace it with the conscious will to do harm. That's who I am. A killer, a manipulator, and a goddamn monster.

[ it's a word he's used on himself plenty, but he's probably never believed it more than he does now. his voice quiets and despite his earlier attempts, his eyes are almost more earnest now, like he believes every word from his mouth this time. ]

I was always going to end up hurting you, Clara. [ the guilt is there, hard and tight in his chest, even more as he sees the sobbing mess on her face, wet on her cheeks. he wants to wipe them away, to kiss her tears, but he just swallows. ] So do yourself a favor and just stay the hell away from me.

[bossily]

If that's really what you want.

[Any fire that might've been building within her is squashed out completely. She doesn't have anything left to give. She's been through so much, and she knows she can get through this.

She just has to put one foot in front of the other and be brave.

And that's just what she does. She puts one foot in front of the other and starts to walk. Not back to the bonfire. No, she can't face the others or the Doctor like this. She walks but doesn't get too far before turning around and calling out to him.]

But when you're ready, I'll be around.

[He took the low road here. And maybe at points she did too. But she's going to get the last word and end this on a high note. She's determined to salvage what little scraps she can of their friendship.]

[kovach]

[ it isn't what he wants. but it's what she should do, what they should both do, if they were going to make any of this work. because together is never going to be an option, never had been from the start, but he'd been so caught up in the wave of feelings she'd pulled him through that he'd pretended for a little while that maybe there was another choice in all of this. that he could love clara oswald and, for once, not have it taken away from him.

but her confrontation had reminded him that this is all they would ever be, and maybe by keeping her away, he can at least protect her from the empty shell he'll eventually become once the price of his changed deal is fully put through.

he listens to her speak, to her last voiced effort of hope, but he doesn't around to her, making sure to listen to her continue to step away. he wouldn't be able to look at her again, not anymore, and he hopes by now that he's pissed her off enough that she's furious enough with the direction of the fight to not make her way back to him.

because his body nearly gives in, the strain of seriousness falling away as he closes his eyes, tears forming to build up past the lids.

he can't wipe them away, not in case there's any chance she's still looking away, so instead, he lets it roll down his cheek when he opens his eyes again, straightening his posture as he moves his feet to walk in the opposite direct, away from her, away from the celebration, away from this fantasy within the simulation, so he can bury himself in every kind of liquor and drug he could drown himself in to just feel nothing at all for the rest of the night. ]