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

[kovach]

[ he knows there are empty beds, since that's what allowed him to just throw himself into any available one last night, but there's still the subconscious need to seek out an excuse, like he'd somehow sought something out in his drunken stupor that he's now realizing has him caught in the headlights of being too attended to.

with her shit-tasting comment, he pauses from his slow escape from the bed, lips briefly even quirking a bit from the minor humor. ]

And I just thought that's what Christmas tastes like.

[ but she's right. it does taste like shit. with a sigh, he notices the already filled glass, and as he reaches for it, he wonders if it's just her default performance, preparing everything, keeping an eye on anyone in the beds. when he shifts a gaze to her, he can see around her eyes that she's probably slept little herself.

he brings the glass to his lips, nearly emptying it as he gulps it down. ] You haven't been here all night, have you?

[ is it night? is it day? he could have been here a week and he wouldn't know. ]

[naloxone]

[ her careful observation lightens when he seems to decide on settling back in, for now, but she doesn't sink back into her seat just yet. ]

Only the really good ones or the really bad ones.

[ it's right there, right on the tip of her tongue, wanting to ask, Which one was yours? but it isn't as if she can't surmise on her own, and she doubts he would tell her anyway.

at his question, she purses her lips thoughtfully and glances off towards the desk settled close to the entrance. ]

I was over there for a little while.

[ it's not as if she can't sense his sudden sheepishness, like a child caught reaching for a comforting hand in the middle of a crowded grocery store. but she doesn't think bringing any attention to it will make it an easier pill to swallow. it's not in her nature to shame someone who reaches out — subconsciously or not.

she finally turns a page. ]

Don't worry, you don't snore any louder than the last guy that was on that bed.

[kovach]

[ considering he's never really had much of a christmas, never having much of a reason to celebrate it in the first place, he might have just automatically placed them in the latter category of really bad, just by the sheer fact that he'd woken up from a hasty night of getting as high and drunk beyond even what his body might've permitted. but then that'd be saying that everything else prior hadn't mattered, because between the rest of the festive cheer he might've been reluctant to engage in with the other orbers and even the surplus of go games he'd lost to marta's hand, he'd actually had something of a good time.

still, sometimes, all it takes is one thing to go wrong to have it all plummet down to the ground, and he could still almost hear clara's sobbing angry cries even now, but he tries to drown it out.

marta keeps him occupied, at least, even if he feels a bit guilty for getting her stuck with checking on him in the first place. ]

Oh, good. Would've really hated to get a bad review on my sickbed courtesy.

[ he sets the glass back down on the table, back settling on the pillow behind him again, quiet as he considers himself for a moment, staring at his hands. ]

You been reading that out loud?

[naloxone]

[ the thing is, she would have been here whether he'd stumbled into the infirmary or some unoccupied plot on the floor of the mess hall. so really it's less about giving her work, and more that he's giving her purpose. that she can look back at this and know at least one of her sleepless nights weren't for naught, spent idling by on the hope that an overtaxed mind would have any more of a chance of dulling into silence.

the books can only do so much, after all. ]

I was, yes.

[ she holds the book up so he can see the worn cover, its once gilded lettering long since faded and flaked. her eyes, however, peeking out from above the spine, sparkle just faintly with mischief. ]

You didn't seem to appreciate my British accents, so I had to stop doing voices eventually.

[kovach]

[ he peers down to the cover as she shows it to him, reading the words and finding that it's not a familiar one. he's not surprised; by the time he was born, books were already becoming rarer finds and mostly, he and rei sought out children's fairy tales than anything else. as he grew older, his reading began to lean more towards collections of history and philosophy. fictional literature didn't get much of his attention. ]

In my defense, being unconscious usually makes me an ungrateful asshole.

[ accent or not, he realizes he might have actually heard her, the faintest hint of her voice like a soft echo contrasting with the harshness of the war he'd suddenly found himself lost in again. he wonders if the distraction of the voice helped him fall in too deep.

he leans back comfortably, eyes still on the book. ]

What's it about? [ more curious to hear how she describes it than the book itself. ]

[naloxone]

[ marta had always been a bit of a bookworm, having fallen early into the habit in an effort to better her english. that the hobby caters so well to her quiet and solitary nature hadn't hurt, and her time with harlan had only nurtured the fondness she'd had for the pasttime. genres had never mattered much to her, as she'll give just about anything a try once, but she can admit to a soft spot for "classics" like these, often the book of choice for her english teachers, though admittedly her fondness stems more from the nostalgia than the quality of the books themselves. she'd read this particular title over a handful of times before, but still she couldn't resist the pull of it after spotting the cover peeking out at her from within the pile of items from previous supply drops. ]

It's... [ a love story, is the obvious answer, but something in her gut tells her it's not one that would be readily appreciated. she hums in thought for a moment. ] It's about two people learning to get over themselves, so they can stop being the roadblock to their own growth and happiness.

[kovach]

Sounds ... optimistic.

[ it almost even sounds silly on paper, since the roadblock to growth and happiness can come in plenty of forms that have little to do with one's own self. but it's fiction and those kind of things never take into account the things no one has any control over.

but she apparently seems to like it, so he'll indulge her on it. ] So how exactly are they learning that lesson? Or have we not gotten to that part yet?

[naloxone]

[ her expression (which had been carefully blank as she gave him the sanitized cliff's notes of cliff's notes version of the book's plot) flattens in the same dry humor that had had her attempting british accents in the first place. ]

Reality can be unpredictable and disappointing enough that I don't go around looking for it in my hobbies.

[ truthfully, marta doesn't fancy herself the optimistic sort. sentimentality, optimism... they're luxuries beyond the reach of someone like her, the oldest daughter of an undocumented immigrant who had to grow up before she even reached puberty. they're far better suited for people like her sister alice, whose idealism and hope she and her mother worked hard to nurture and protect.

her fingers drum against the tattered cardboard of the book's hardcover. ]

Sometimes it's just nice to think it could all be so simple.

[ reading, for marta, was always about learning. but every now and then, she'd find the space to indulge, too. ]

Right now they've only just met. A good book isn't going to tell you those answers until the very end, otherwise what else will you stick around for?

[kovach]

[ that's a sentiment he can somewhat understand, for the escape of what it's known for reality to be. he's not surprised to hear how it might be disappointing for her; she wouldn't be on this station at all if she was satisfied with things in her own life. wanting to escape into something nice every once in a while — he's done it.

briefly, he thinks of clara, of the dream he let himself fall into for the past couple of months, and knows he'd needed to wake up from it. marta can chase happy fairy tales for a fix of relief, but he knows better. ]

I used to do the opposite. [ he sighs, feeling the weight in his body a little heavier. ] As kids, my sister and I would ... change the stories around to make them even scarier. Helped make reality seem nicer somehow.

[ a different kind of escapism. not that it made anything better ultimately. but it's a different kind of relief for him in comparison.

but right now, he's exhausted, hungover, and too weak to want to move from this bed. he shouldn't waste his time here, but he has nowhere else to go, and as much as he shouldn't bother, he's somewhat curious. he knows the end of his own story so at least maybe there's a different story with something a little more uplifting. ]

So, alright, these two — they just met. It's the start of their story. [ he raises a brow at her. ] So this is the point that we, what — root for them to save each other?

[naloxone]

[ as he speaks, marta can't help but think of harlan. of his macabre stories, spurred by his morbid imagination. how, even at the very end, faced with the possibility of an awful death, the man could still sit back so calmly and pen the situation down like it were nothing more than a funny little anecdote he could incorporate into his next bestseller. he was a man who dreamed in murders and mysteries, lived and breathed the genre like it were as familiar as coming home. yet he was kind, and he was gentle. was writing it all down his own way of coping? ]

We all do what we can, don't we.

[ her thoughtful hum is matched with a brief wistfulness that she is quick to draw back in on a breath. another page turned, though not a single word was read. ]

Something like that, [ she says, carrying on like neither of them had made such melancholy pitstops in conversation. ] They start off at odds with each other, two very different people with very different wants. Saving each other is a pretty tall order for any relationship's beginning. I'd say right now it's just enough to hope that their paths keep crossing. That they'll figure it out along the way.

[kovach]

[ he's almost surprised to hear no judgment on it, concern for how two kids would settle for something more frightening than a lighter tone in their fairy tales, but it does seem like she's open enough to his every word, enough so that ht feels inclined to be open to hers, listening to her describe a story he probably wouldn't have cared for listening to otherwise.

but the kind of tale it is seems familiar enough, a set up for something hopeful, even if he's so often cautious to avoid too much of the word.

he knows all about crossed paths, about being at odds and watching things unravel in ways no one might have expected. his own version of the tales never ends well. maybe this one turns out better. ]

Something to look forward to then. [ because he might as well try for something different, knowing that his reality isn't going to improve, that it'll only fall apart further, especially with the bargain he's made. for him — there's little hope for anything or anyone to save him.

but there's no harm in a story. in something that doesn't end in death and tragedy.

quiet for a moment, he finally asks quietly, ] Keep reading it? [ to me, he doesn't say. ]

[naloxone]

[ marta remembers her first night here, the night they shared mulling over glasses of whiskey, toasting to survival and lonely stars. she thinks of the man who'd sat across from her, smirking around the rim of his glass and offering words of realistic encouragement, minding her expectations, keeping them reasonable.

she knows that the man seated in front of her now is that very same man, even if only a shadow remains. even if the his edges seem blurred, lost.

she expects to hear a scoff, maybe even a laugh. to see a roll of eyes or a shake of the head. nothing patronizing, but close enough that a dismissal is obvious. she thinks at best, he would humor her, egg her on with a quietly snide smirk until she explained herself raw.

she doesn't expect the quietness in his voice, making this giant of a man seem so much smaller than the bed that he occupies.

slowly, she nods, like any sudden movement might cause the fragile air around them to shatter. ]

Sure. [ quiet begets quiet, tender and gentle in a silent promise. ] I can do that. [ whenever you need. ]