ximilialog | OPEN ● ● ● Every Christmas is Last Christmas

OPEN ● ● ● Every Christmas is Last Christmas

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.

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✨ 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. )

[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.

( — immediately, he barks a laugh. )

But if it turns this color, won't it be so pretty?

( sparkling, fizzling blue, decorated by all the same riches of diamond encrusted skies. rhys, figuring he has not yet earned daisy's trust and therefore stands no chance of talking his way around this one, takes the goblet back and sips it, as if to say see? no poison. no hair dye, either.

languidly, he slides it back across the table and towards her, before standing, taking off his suit jacket, and rounding the table to her side. )

It's fairy wine. It'll make you feel good, like you want to dance.

( he says this truthfully, and? in demonstration, starts a little solo number, something jazzy and light, doing a few goofy twirls before extending both hands towards her. come come and dance with your brother, daisy. )

I like the color I have now.

[Daisy mumbles before taking a bite out of the biscuit, watching as he sips at it. She’s thought about bleaching her hair again, the roots starting to be more obvious, but she’s not in the mood to do that whole process.

So far his hair seems to be the same color, so that’s…

Something.

Watching him dance, Daisy fights back a laugh as he reaches out for her hands.]

Fine.

[Reaching for the goblet, Daisy takes a long sip once she realizes how good it tastes before placing it back down and grabbing his hands. Allowing him to pull her up.]

I don’t normally dance like that.

[She should probably warn him of that.]

No?

( smiling brightly at her, rhys doesn't skip a beat in spinning her in a lazy circle under his arm, before gesturing her to come closer. his sour mood seems entirely crumbled by daisy, who rhysand agrees should probably always be the grumpy one between them. settling a hand on her waist, he drags them into a lazy sway, only stopping their feet once he taps his thumb on her ribcage, offering her the lead. )

Teach me how you dance, then.

[Daisy laughs as he spins her around, willingly going with him until she’s facing him again. Even though he can be ridiculous, he’s also pretty smooth.

There’s no way that drink has already taken effect, right?

Daisy squints, as if she’s actually thinking about showing him.]

They’re not playing the right music for the type of dancing I do.

Dunno.

( billy peers down at the elf in his hands and makes a face. it's kind of really creepy and billy's half afraid this shit's going to come alive because it wouldn't surprise him in this place.

that would be his luck, wouldn't it? get killed by some suddenly alive elf. )

You haven't even bought my elf dinner and you're wantin' it to put out?

( rhys frowns down at his elf with a critical eye — the little trollop. the apple doesn't fall far from this particular tree, but he can still put a little effort in, you know, for the holidays. )

Good point. ( there's some collection of christmas goodies nearby on a tray — rhys squints at it, before smiling. ) Does your elf happen to like gingerbread? Or there's some upsetting drink called eggnog I've not yet been bold enough to have a go at.

Never had eggnog, huh?

( but billy agrees even if he's had it before. it's fucking upsetting and gross. )

Gingerbread. Giving my elf some eggnog might make him not wanna be around you at all. Could ruin things.

I think my elf's charm can make up for such ghastly offerings, but — as you say.

( the wonderful thing he's learning about christmas is that there seems to be an endless supply of treats always within reaching distance. so — he nabs up a soft gingerbread cookie, and offers it not to billy, but his dinky little ornament. )

Remember to always be your-elf.

Oh my fuckin' god.

( that was absolutely fuckin' terrible but it catches billy off guard enough that he laughs and shakes his head. )

Did you think of that one before or did you come up with it right on the spot?

[Clara spends a good deal of time eating at a far end of the table by herself. She's definitely a little sour and lost in her own thoughts, oblivious as people file in and out around her. She isn't completely oblivious to things like brownies, however. They're sweet and delicious and uncomplicated. So she indulges more than just a little, making small talk with whoever happens to be around her. A joke she isn't expecting is what pulls her out of her somber mood, pulling a series of laughs out of her.

It's then, when she least expects it, that someone swoops in and steals the last bite of her dessert. She's totally gobsmacked by it, and made even more so when there's a kiss to her cheek. Even more laughter bubbles up as she spins about to see who it is.

She's seen him around the station, but hasn't officially met him yet. Still, his impishness puts a smile on her face. It's likely the first real smile she's worn all day.]

If you wanted something sweet, all you had to do is ask.

[She's still laughing as she playfully scolds him, hand pressing against her cheek.]

( hand on his stomach, rhys powers through the painful chewing of the robbery, fighting off the need to laugh by threat of choking alone. by the time he has it swallowed down, he's mostly calmed his amusement down into a brilliant smile, dazzling as he takes a sweeping bow for the apparent comedic routine he's just put on.

languidly, he slips into the seat beside her, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he does. )

Apologies — I have it on good authority that being annoying is a part of my nature. That's a terrible, yet not at all inaccurate introduction. ( a hand laid dramatically over his heart, he inclines his head. ) I'm Rhysand, and thank you so much for that last bit of your wonderful brownie. I assure you, it was delicious. Let me fetch you another sweet? Anything you like, I will scrounge up.

Clara, [She introduces herself, looking completely bemused. It's hard to recall anyone else she's met that's quite like him.]

And I'm not sure you can fetch anything I like. What if I asked for something ridiculous, like...I dunno. An ooey, gooey toffee cake? Or bread pudding with whiskey sauce?

[Needless to say, she is absolutely happy to meet him and he is charming enough that any worry on her mind is forgotten for the time being.]

Hm.

( a finger taps his chin, eyes narrowing in her direction. both of those sound ... well, extremely delicious. and a little out of his wheelhouse. sometimes it takes effort to remember he is not currently living in a house that sees to his every dessert-based need through magic and perception alone. )

I was hoping, just a bit, you'd say another brownie, of which there are many. But — ( a very dramatic hand, pressed over his heart. ) whether it takes a day or a hundred, Clara, I will find you a toffee cake. The ooeiest, gooeist variety. With a heart of bread pudding, and enough whiskey sauce to bathe in. A dessert fit for a queen.

( if he seems incessantly annoying and confident, it's only because he is. )

[He is definitely confident. For someone with a bit of an egomania problem, it's incredibly endearing. She responds by reaching up to press a hand over his, the one that's over his heart.]

As tempting as it is to put on my crown and demand the ooiest, gooiest sort of toffee cake -

[Her hand pats his before slipping away, laughing as she does.]

I suppose another brownie would do.

( something quirks in the muscles of his smile — tethered, it seems, to the weight of her laughter. in fact, he's not used to making much of anyone happy, so it's a distinctly nice change of pace.

as one might pull a coin from the back of a child's ear, rhys reaches forward to the side of her head, tracing the oddly blunted tip of her ear, before — viola! with a little flourish, he grabs a brownie in a napkin out of seemingly nowhere, presenting it to clara with all the grace of a practiced magician. )

For Queen Clara. Queens still have brownies, I'm sure of it.

[You know, she can get used to being called Queen Clara. It has a certain ring to it that she likes. so of course he earns a dimpled grin as she takes the brownie from him. His cheek also earns a pat, because he is a very good and sweet boy.]

Has anyone ever told you that your charm is likely to get you in trouble someday?

Oh! Oh, now that's rude! [ — is the petulant huff of the thousand year old timelord as Rhys sneakily chomps a bite of his Christmas-y snack right from his hand. He really should guard his sweets a little better.

But also! Also!

How is he to expect that someone will come right around to steal a nibble from it? His treat! His! The audacity!

Of course, it's likely that the flustered annoyance (as he touches his sticky cheek) will only last for a couple of seconds at most before he's staring at the perpetrator, too jubilant by tonight's festivities to hold a grudge. It's Christmas, after all, and nothing can be terrible on Christmas. ]

Well, that's all the sweets for you, I should think!

( but doc, your huffiness only serves to make the thievery that much sweet, don't you know? never before has a snack tasted quite so delicious.

whilst he checks the effected site of kisses, and rhys swallows down the rest of the sugary delight, he tosses his shoulders up in a nonchalant shrug, as if saying them's the breaks. one silent, effortless step to the right, and — he swivels to plant another sugary kiss on the doctor's opposite cheek, quickly springing back with a barrel of laughter. )

Fairy kisses are good luck! You should thank me, you know?

Oh, is that what it is? Well, I suppose I should count myself very, very lucky indeed!

[ Except now both of his cheeks are sticky, and he really should be cross, but the Doctor lets out a laugh instead. And relenting to his fate, he also passes on the rest of his brownie in Rhys' hands as proof of his not holding any grudges. ]

Didn't realize we had any of the Fair Folk on board the station. [ And certainly not one that looked so ... like someone who ought to be on the cover of a magazine or something. ] Met a clan of Homo fata vulgaris before, once, a long time ago. On Christmas, actually, which I suppose is an interesting coincidence. They were a lot more green, though. And bitey. Oh, they liked biting, all right.

( aha, clearly someone knows how to befriend the fairies of the world. rhys accepts the offering in a way that, biologically, he can't exactly resist — the lure of sugar and sweets and chocolate far too strong to fight. sliding back into his seat, rhysand turns to face the doctor completely, munching happily at his given treat.

though, he arches a brow at the name, head tilted curiously. )

Green? You mean like ... goblins? Or dryads, maybe. ( he pulls a face. ) Or trolls, but they're more gray and — ( his nose scrunches, unpleasantly. ) more chomp than bite.

[ Well, at least he looks happy, which the Doctor supposes, is the whole point of Christmas in the first place. Leaning back in his seat, cheeks still sticky with sugar, the Doctor crosses his arms thoughtfully. ]

Suppose they had a goblin-y look about them, but they did call themselves the fae. Fae-people, fae-like, maybe goblin-y, not very troll.

[ He shrugs all together. ]

So! What sort of fae makes someone who ought to be put on billboards and that sort of thing, eh? Have you seen yourself?

[ He's beautiful! It's infuriating. ]

( strange to think the baseline of his own species could vary from world to world — but then, from what rhys has learned, some places don't even have fae, so anything could really be possible. he'll just count himself lucky he wasn't born into the goblin-y side of fae life.

the doctor does catch him off guard with the compliment. in the middle of swallowing down the brownie, he lifts a fist to his mouth, to avoid laughter spluttering chocolate bits everywhere. rhys is not lacking in self confidence, of course, but still — he blushes. a little. )

I have looked, once or twice. Thank you. Actually, I'm a — ( halfbreed, he'd say, but alina has told him in no uncertain terms how little she cares for the term. so. ) Actually, my father was High Fae, and my mother was Illyrian. Are you familiar? ( he holds his hands up against the sides of his shoulders, fingers flapping like wings. ) Soldier folk with big bat wings. I'd show you mine, but it'd rip my shirt off.

I am not! [ Familiar, that is. ] Illyrian, eh? Never heard of such people before, but then that's always exciting, isn't it? New people, new things. [ It's something he very much likes to hold onto, especially these days. Knowing how easy it is to forget what it's like to be excited and thrilled by the universe around him, he takes special care to remember moments just like this one. ] Oh, I love new things.

[ With a beaming smile and further interest, eyes following the direction of this young man's fingers, he tries to imagine just how wings might manage to fit under the thinness of his fitted shirt. He scratches his head. ] Under your shirt? [ He has to ask. ] How'd you keep wings under there?

[ Especially if they're 'big'. Does big have another meaning? Are they big for a cherub, perhaps? ]

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OPEN ● ● ● Every Christmas is Last Christmas

rhysand. — a court of thorns and roses, ota

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6.0 —; bc i have to

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