Fantasy GGN Christmas Scenes!

[Jet]

You can post your Christmas Secret Santas from December 23rd to the new year!

 

[Jet]

​

The elves worked hard in the workshop tonight. It was a week before Christmas and music filled the town, elves danced and partied and drank their sweet eggnog, and reindeer practiced in the clear starry sky. The workshop buzzed with life as every elf did their part. They made dresses and dolls and games of every kind, and they worked with smiles because this was the best, most wonderful time of the year.

Santa inspected the machines and encouraged every elf. He clapped their shoulders and asked them about their days, and he remembered every name in the whole place. He found himself in his favorite section of the entire workshop, a place dedicated to making prank toys for mischievous little kids. From whoopee cusions to stink bombs there was nothing they didn't make, and the manager was the happiest elf of them all.

"HO HO HO!" Santa stopped behind the elf. "Merry Christmas!"

"Oy!" Zak sipped from his beer. "Fuck off mate."

"Hahaha!" Santa grinned at the happy elf. "I can always count on your Christmas spirit!"

Zak scowled in response. "I'm gonna piss in your eggnog."

"Such a jokester!"

"Not kidding mate."

"Of course you are! Oh and there's someone you should meet." Santa looked back and waved at another elf. This one was different than the rest. He was made of metal and his eyes glowed blue.

"Our newest Elf!" Santa chimed. "Mavior is his name!"

Mavior walked over and stopped on a dime; his movements were sharp and precise. "I am Mavior-bot. May I offer you an exceptional new year... fleshbag."

"A fuckin what?" Zak cocked his head. "That ain't no elf big man."

"What do you mean?" Santa put his hands on his hips. "Mavior is an elf just like you! Even if he's made of metal!"

"I am an elf." Mavior extended his hand. "It is most excellent... to meet you."

"Are you taking the piss?" Zak looked up at Santa. "I think you're taking the piss."

"Zaaaak." Santa shook his head. "You've been good for the whole year, don't ruin it! I want to give you that Eviscerator knife you asked for."

"Toss in the widow-maker and I'll say he's an elf."

"Deal!" Santa said. "Now would you give Mavior a tour of your section? I think this would be a great fit!"

"Yeah yeah, hurry up my fellow elf." Zak waved Mavior along. "Alright mate, first things first."

"Don't work hard. You work hard and he raises the bloody quotas, savvy?"

Mavior nodded his head. "Do not work hard under any circumstances, sub optimal performance is desirable."

"Quick learner eh?" Zak pressed a button below a conveyor belt. The sound of hissing air filled the room; the floor opened revealing a dim speakeasy filled with elves. There was a table of them with drinks and cards and cigars in their mouths, and a pile of candy sat in the middle.

"Rule number two," Zak said. "Santa doesn't ask, elves don't tell."

"Copy that, discretion is required for employment in this facility. I will edit protocols."

"Yeah what you said." Zak climbed down and as Mavior followed him downstairs, the hatch closed with a metal thump. There was a bartender serving drinks at a long white countertop, and soon a pair of drinks sat beside the elves. "Rule three, you don't gamble what you don't have, and you don't drink what you can't handle."

"Instructions unecessary." Mavior poured the entire drink in his mouth. "Alcohol content within specifications. There is nothing I cannot handle."

"Oh yeah?" Zak snapped his fingers and more drinks arrived. He drank with reckless abandon and Mavior did the same, chugging drinks one after another. There was a growing mountain of cups and more were added every second, and soon a tower loomed over them. There was a crowd forming around them and bets were being made, some argued for Zak and others argued for Mavior!

"Zak's never lost!"

"The robot isn't even drunk!"

"But nobody can beat Zak, he's won a hundred straight!"

"He isn't looking too good though.... Zak are you okay?"

Zak turned towards a blurry mass of elves. His cheeks were red and he could barely stay in his seat, and he burped loud enough to shake walls. "Yesh you's wimp ittle, dumb moron, not even—

"Not even drunk. I'm not even drunk."

"Analysis," Mavior said. "Zak has superceded the natural limits of alcohol consumption, medical attention may be required — addendum, my fingers are rather tingly. Is that the intended effect of this beverage?"

"No way," Zak slurred. "No fuckin way I lose to—

He slumped from his seat and fell on the floor, snoring as the crowd erupted with cheers. They hoisted Mavior and paraded him as music came from the speakers — money changed hands and even the bartender smiled. The merriment continued for hours and soon everyone was unconscious, except for Mavior who sat with a thin, barely perceptible smile.

The next morning, the elves were called to see Santa. They stood in a row with pale faces and bags under their eyes, and the big man was less than pleased.

"Ho ho ho...."

"Tis not a merry Christmas, we have so much work to do. The world relies on us to bring more than just gifts! We bring smiles to every kid in need! They need you all, my diligent elves, to wait until Christmas ends! To focus on what's important and deliver the smiles we promise!"

"Not our fault." Zak stepped forward and stuck out his chin, his hands were crossed behind his back. "We got sick is all, a bloody plague that smacked us in the nads."

"Sick?" Santa frowned and clasped Zaks shoulder. "You know, if you lie I won't give you that Eviscerator."

Zak solemnly shook his head. "What about the widow maker?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"Good thing I ain't lying!"

Santa sighed and looked over at Mavior. "Mavior I must ask for the truth. What happened last night?"

The elves collectively winced and Zak clenched his jaw. He knew what was coming. Mavior was going to screw them and nothing could be done about it... the Eviscerator knife was further away than ever.

"Analysis," Mavior said. "The elves were poisoned by elemental conditions."

Zak gasped under his breath.

"There was a toxin present that caused a reduction in motor skills and cognitive performance, leading to the symptoms present."

"I see," Santa said. "Mavior cannot tell lies you see, so this is proof of what you say! I will have the section checked for contaminents, but until then!"

"One day off for the whole unit! It's the least I can do!"

The elves cheered as Santa gave them one final "HO HO HO!" and together they partied more than last night. They drank and danced and drank even more, and Zak approached his new friend with a smile. "OY MAVIOR!"

"YOU CHEEKY LITTLE BASTARD!"

"YOU LIED RIGHT TO HIS FACE!"

"Correction," Mavior said. "I am incapable of telling a lie. I presented the truth in accordance with your second rule."

"Mate!" Zak drank from his mug. "I think you've got a future in management!"

"That would be ideal," Mavior said. "I require more candy to purchase tingly drink. It is quite an experience."

"AYE!" Zak chimed. "Cheers to that!"

They cheered and the night carried on in the same fashion, and though the prank section was a bunch of drunken fools, they managed to make every toy before Christmas Eve. It was a close call as always, but with so much comraderie and good energy among them, delivering smiles was no trouble at all.

ManofManyRoles

 

[ZackStop]

O Christmas Robot​

As the days drew closer to Christmas, colder and colder the nights in Gem City became, which a young man taking a walk soon realized. Carrying a paper bag in his arms from a quick grocery run, Ren Shimamoto couldn't help but question his poor decisions.

"This... really bu-bu-bites... why'd I hadta... wait so long...? What t-time is it anyway?" He checked a vintage pocket watch he had stuffed in his coat pocket. "8 o'clock... It-t-ts almost C-Christmas- f-f-fuh... ACHOO!" The boy's sneeze was loud enough to shake a light post clean of snow. Ren stopped to look back at the sound of snow crumpling in a pile.

"D-did I say this bites already? This really r-really bites-" His voice was drowned out by the sound of a garage door slamming shut behind him and making him jump. Ren quickly whipped his head around to be greeted with a familiar face. The young woman locked her door and stood, pushing her short white hair behind her ear. The two soon locked eyes, staring at each other for a moment.

"A-Anya? W-what?" The boy continues to shiver as the girl's face lightened up with a smile. "Ren? Hey! It's been awhile!"

Anya, the techy from Nye and all it's adventures, immediately took notice of his insistent shivering. "You look cold." She announced, feeling like she should invite him in to warm up. After all even she began to rub her arms to warm up.

"Oh me? N-no! I'm totally fu-hu..- fine- ACHOO!" He was truly hopeless, and terrible at convincing the girl that he could handle the cold. It didn't take long for her to give in to her kindness, shaking her head at him. "What are you even doing out here? You do realize how underdressed you are, don't you?" She referred to his single hoodie he had thrown on before heading to the store. "Come on." She firmly took his arm, dragging him along. "You can stay for awhile to warm up." The two went around the garage next to the building up the stairs the her front door. "Wait- no! I-its fine really!" He weakly protested. "Crap, this is bad, I've never been to a girl's house before!" He thought to himself, but once inside, the warmth washed over him and all his worry went away in an instant. "Ooookay. I'll stay for just a little bit."

Now in a small kitchen, Ren tried not to let his eyes wander too much. He didn't want to be rude when she was giving him such hospitality. "So, what made you come to Gem City?" He asked cautiously, while finding a place to put his groceries down. "Well, I needed a change of scenery and I heard it was a good place for mechanics!" She pointed out with a raised finger while looking through a cabinet. There were stacks of boxes all around the small house, signifying that her move had been no more than a few weeks ago.

"So um... you moved here recently-" Ren clumsily backed up into a stack of boxes that soon came falling towards him. "Shit!" He thought as he sprawled out his arms to hold them back. The girl placed down a couple of tea cups before rushing to her guest's aid. "Well," she said with a shakiness in her voice before getting the tower steady again. "Ahem, about a month ago but I've been so busy that I haven't had time to unpack everything." The two went quiet for a moment, before letting out deep sighs in unison. They were just moments away from a disaster after all.

"So what's in the bag?" Anya asked with a peek, and to her surprise, it was all... "Just ramen? You can't survive off of just this, you know?" The girl scolded, but the boy only rubbed the back of his neck and laughed it off. "Yeah... Guess I've been living pretty cheap lately..."

Anya let out a defeated sigh. "I'll go find my teapot, don't be afraid to make yourself comfortable." She gave him a smile and wave before walking off into a hallway.

"Right..." Ren took a look around for a place to sit, but ended up wandering off absent mindedly. He strolled away until coming across a large slab of metal, Anya's iconic great sword leaning up against a wall. It was an impressive blade, but he never had the chance to appreciate it up close.

"Wow, so cool!" He said, gently placing his hand on the flat surface of the blade, but when he nudged it ever so slightly, the sword came falling over. Ren quickly panicked as the pommel dragged along the wall, only stopping when it knocked into an end table. "No no no-" He watched as a ceramic bowl rolled around in a circle, threatening to tumble off the edge. "You gotta be kidding me! I'm like a bad luck charm!" He said to himself as he balanced the blade back up against the wall. Only proving his hypothesis, the bowl soon came rolling off the edge. "Craaap!" With a dive, Ren managed to catch the bowl before crashing to the hardwood floor, only for his landing to knock something else out of place. A small clock came falling from a high place with a 'coo-coo' sound. Internally screaming at this point, Ren pushes himself back onto his feet with his hand outstretched, enough to successfully catch the antique clock. "...whew." But just when he through it was over, the sword once again came falling from the wall with an audible sliding sound. Luckily, Ren was nimble as a cat, managing to use one leg to balance and the other to stop the sword from clattering to the ground. That wasn't to say however, that the clutz wasn't stretched thin at the moment, having to grunt the whole time. "Beats the weather..."

Getting the sword back up against the wall and the bowl back on its table, all the boy had to do now was put the clock back. "Easy does it, coocoo clock." He said with a little awkward chuckle, putting it right back where it belongs. Ren placed both hands on his hips with satisfaction. But he was now too far away... That sword had a vendetta against the boy, and decided to fall once more, only this time making damn sure it knocked the bowl clean off it's surface. Time came to a snail crawl as he watched the bowl plummet, eyes going wide from his inability to stop what was coming. What felt like minutes soon came to pass, as the bowl split in two against the floor. He stared at it in disbelief, unable to fully register what was gonna happen. "Oh man... She's gonna hate me..." Perhaps it was the bowl the sword hated so much rather than Anya's guest.

"Uhhh, Anya?" He said aloud after turning down the hall where she had gone. There were a few doors, but one in particular caught his eye. It was cracked open slightly and had a blue-ish hue emanating from it, and figuring this is where she had gone, Ren cracked it open even more. "Anya?" He stepped inside, and turns his head left and right, and as soon as he looked straight ahead, he saw it. Ren became totally stunned by what stood before him. The door lead to the garage, or more accurately a small hangar, because what had left him speechless was the sheer magnitude of his discovery.

Standing at least 12 feet tall, just barely reaching the rafters, bold in appearance with sleek, decorative pieces that contrasted the chrome finish with red and gold, and a sharp V shape on its forehead that complemented it's scowl. What Ren had found was none other than a mecha. More specifically, a replica.

"Ren? I found the tea pot-" Anya returned gleefully, but upon seeing his discovery, dropped the pot and completely froze. Red with embarrassment, Anya screamed internally as it seemed the cat was out of the bag. "Oh crap... No no no! He's gonna think I'm a total nerd!" She thought to herself in a panic. "I got to salvage this, what do I do?! ...Hold on, don't panic... I can do this!"

The girl took a deep breath and glanced over to find a tool catalog she had been looking through earlier. She quickly scooped it up and ran out in front of her guest. "Hey, Ren, Check it out! I know a fellow gear-head can appreciate a good wrench! R-right?" Anya did her very best to sell it, but couldn't shake his gaze from her passion project. It's piercing emerald like eyes had him completely infatuated, only able to mindlessly utter, "What is it...?" Anya bit her lip at the sound of that question.

"I really have no choice do I?" She thought to herself, contemplating if it was worth revealing her secret to Ren of all people. "It must be done... good-bye world!" She dropped the magazine, becoming even redder as she tried her best to stay composed. "Ren... I..." She stopped herself. "I have to confess!" She said to herself, fighting back against her fears. "I have a confession... I'm..." She took a big breath through her nose and clenched her fists. "I'm... a huge mecha robot fan!" She shouted, her voice echoing.

The room went completely silent after that. If a pen dropped across the house they could hear it. The two just stood there, Anya's eyes shut tight as she practically held her breath. It took only a few seconds for the outburst to snap Ren back to reality and another to register what had been said. "mecha robot?" The term sounded foreign to him, but... "That sounds really cool." He said with a grin, which was almost the complete opposite of what Anya expected to hear. "It... is?" She opened her eyes and straightened up her posture before receiving a nod from the boy. "Yeah! It looks awesome, but..." He looked over again, noticing that a portions of it's left arm and parts of the torso were no more than it's inner framework. Not yet covered by it's outer coating.

The two sat there in the hanger each with a cup of tea and a blanket, as Anya told Ren all about the mech. "I really wanted to be finished by Christmas, but it's taken me way longer than I thought..." She said as her expression turned melancholy. "I guess that was wishful thinking." Ren looked over and sipped some tea, ready to try and say something comforting, but just then Anya's lightened back up. "But it's not the end of the world! It's just a little present to myself, that's all."

Ren looked down at his watch again. "It's not Christmas just yet." He placed his tea cup down and stood. "If we work together I bet we can get it done in a few hours!" He looked back at her still sitting on the floor, to which she looked up in disbelief. Surprised that he would lend a hand in her endeavor. "You... you mean that?" She said as she got up. "You'll really help!?"

He nodded. "Of course, just tell me what to do!" The two were filled with excitement at the prospect of completing such a marvel. "Ohh, Thank you, Ren! Let's get started right away!"

And they were off to the races, two gear-heads hard at work to complete the project before them. Welding and screwing in plates of metal together to fulfill the girl's wish. It was a great undertaking, but with their determination and a dash of Christmas spirit, the two put in the last few finishing touches before the clock struck 12. Now finished, the two just stared up at it. A battle robot straight out of an anime, with thrusters and weapon in hand.

"Wow..." Was all the two could think. Ren cleaned his hands with a rag while walking up to Anya. "We're all done?" to which she shook her head. "It's still missing something." She jogged off somewhere before returning a short while after.

"Give me a boost." She called out before stopping in front of the robot and facing Ren. "There's one last touch I want to add." She held forward a star, meant to be placed on top of a Christmas Tree. "Oh, that's a great idea!" Ren exclaimed before walking over to help her. He could feel the cold metal foot as she stepped into his hands, before hoisting her up, and with a bit of doing, the star was perfectly placed atop it's head.

"There, now for the best part." She said with an excited grin, taking two electrical cords and plugging them together, the emerald eyes flickered on, as well as a matching green glow from the chest, shoulders and shins. LED's with a pink glow shot up the laser sword in it's hand before the star atop it's head shined bright. It was the brightest Christmas tree the two had ever seen.

Ren sat down on the floor again, forgetting all about the cold he had been feeling as the Christmas robot gave off warmth he couldn't quite describe.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, he looked down at his watch, seeing the second hand steadily tick towards 12. With a smile, he announced the time. "Well, it's midnight..." He gazed up towards the robot, leaning back with his hands planted on the floor behind him. "Merry Christmas, Anya." He looked over with a smile. But the girl was fast asleep, curled up with a blanket around her. She had worked so hard, it was only natural she would be exhausted. It was rest well earned. Ren looked down at her with a bit of shock, but ultimately just let out a sigh. "Guess that figures..."

The boy yawned before getting up, tossing the blanket he had used earlier on top of her to make sure she was warm. He didn't want her to get sick. "That should be good... Sleep tight." He walked back into the kitchen to get his bag, before heading out to get some shut eye of his own... "ACHOO!"

Lost Echo

 

[rozukitsune]

Narzas stared at the piece of paper in her hand as she sat in the lounge area of the hotel the group was staying at. Johan had been being himself as per usual and had declared that since it was Christmas that everyone should throw their names into a hat and pull another’s out and then exchange gifts as was customary for the Holiday. Narzas played along without a word, noting the way both Anya and Ren seemed excited for the prospect and trusting the Centurion to have their best interests at heart when doing something as mundane as a trust-building exercise like this most assuredly was.

The major problem was… Zuanshi didn’t celebrate Christmas. They didn’t celebrate anything of the sort in her hometown, nor did they celebrate anything in particular during this time of year. The only holiday she could think of even remotely close was the one for the New Year. Not that any of that actually mattered in this context. The Hana sect, the secret order that ran all of the towns that housed the ones being raised as assassins, definitely didn’t approve of any kind of celebrations happening within the walls of its districts. They happened anyway, of course. Visitors looking to hire bodyguards, mercenaries and hitmen were inevitable - as were Hana sect delivery specialists who brought unwanted children to this place where they would be raised to hunt and kill without mercy. Most of the people she had known growing up had become proper psychopaths, sociopaths or both. Narzas, on the other hand, had barely made it to adulthood herself barely skating by on the minimum qualifications required to make it that far without the higher-ups just deciding to end a given ‘project’ to save themselves money. She rather suspected the reason she was still allowed to breathe was that they fully intended to use her as a teacher for future generations (you didn’t waste good talent on a teaching position after all), but in order to qualify she did need to pass one final exam… and that is what had brought her to Nye, and now to here.

So… without a direction, she wandered to the nearest pile of books on the subject and began to read. She flipped through pages and pages of rhyme and verse and stories. Myths and legends were plentiful and the stories across the cultures that did celebrate the holiday - or at least a similar one; pretty much all agreed on the rules. She read and she read… but though the information barely changed as she gathered it all in her mind - understanding evaded her. Why… would something like this exist? She wondered as she poured over everything she had learned. The story of a big, fat man swathed in red and laughing wherever he went - who gave children of all ages gifts on a single day of the year if they were nice, but coal if they were naughty just made no sense. Who decided who got put on the nice list? The naughty? Why was he fat? Why could his reindeer - an animal that definitely existed in real nature; fly? Why did they pull such a ridiculous sleigh like a team of snow dogs? Is that where the idea had come from? She squinted at a picture and frowned as she considered the plausible similarities. They both ‘flew’ from point a to point b with deliveries - to her knowledge. One did so through the tundra but, to anyone watching it happen it could be fantasized about. Still being overweight was never a good thing. She didn’t particularly register the image as being any more compelling than thinking of someone slim or fit wearing the same outfit. And him being fit would make way more sense given the sorts of stunts he was said to pull. Climbing up the insides of chimneys was no easy feat! Even if he was a wind-user (a reasonable suspicion given the amount of flying he seemed to do in all the stories) he’d need a decently thin frame to fit through most of those things.

Finally, as the day of the exchange drew nearer and Narzas realized she still hadn’t done anything but research - she set down the books and considered the male youth of the group in a more direct sense. She needed to get him something or do something for him - that was the clear expectation of the assignment. What did she know about him? Well… he had a cat for a familiar. One of the big ones too. So, he was probably both fierce and dextrous. She could maybe work with that. She approached him at last as others procured boxes or bits or bobs and handed him a little rectangle of cardstock she’d managed to acquire.

Ren blinked up at her as she handed him the card, and then down at the card itself - a quizzical expression crossing his young face. “Um… it says: Coupon for one lesson in fighting.” He read aloud awkwardly, glancing back up to the somewhat aloof and often confusing older woman who offered the object. He really didn’t know what to say. He was pretty sure he was decent in a fight. Just because he’d been late to his own match didn’t mean he couldn’t have faced his opponent. Did she think him incapable just because he was young? He forced a smile and scratched the side of his head with it. “Thanks, I guess.” What else could you do when you were given such a strange thing but to try and appreciate the thought. He had zero idea what exactly the thought was meant to be - but it was Christmas after all. If she’d gotten him a pair of socks or something else as weird, he knew better than to say what he was really thinking to her face. Watching her uncertain expression brighten, he knew it was enough that he’d at least kept her from feeling bad about getting him something lame.

“You accept it then. Excellent, we can start immediately.” Narzas said matter-of-factly to the rapidly sweating boy as she practically snatched him from his seat and dragged him outside.

“W-wait!” He stammered, hopping along on one foot for a moment as he tried to get one foot to go in front of the other. “You mean now?”

“Based on my research, it isn’t much of a gift if it is not given now.” She replied matter-of-factly.

The next few hours turned out to be more surprising than the youth could have ever imagined. He’d never spent so long exercising at one time before as Narzas ran him through drills and stood around criticizing his form. When she did deign to let him swing a punch at her, it was always to show him how he was doing it wrong and showing him the finer points of moving one’s body with precision and intent. It was certainly insightful, if not exactly a gift in the way one usually expected for the time of year. Once she'd worn him out, she handed him a bottle of water and then excused him back to his room.

ZackStop

 

[rozukitsune]

It was honestly one of her favorite seasons (were they all her favorite? Probably.) The land blanketed in snow and the city she called home dressed in lights alternating in red and green. Evergreen trees lining the streets and extra large ones in places of prominence, decorated in baubles both shiny and new and hand crafted, then wrapped again in garlands of silver and gold. Each topped with a five pointed star that shed enough light to rival the ones shining far overhead in the night sky.

So even in her current melancholy given the circumstances, it was still difficult to be truly sad when trying to devise gift ideas for her current… was ‘friends’ a good description? She decided ‘coworkers’ was probably as close as she was going to get and moved on from that curiosity of thought as she resumed carefully checking over her wrapping job. She'd gotten gifts for everyone, of course; but her last gift to give was to the strange and unusual Zulan - whom she didn't understand at all. Rather than try, she went with something any guy could use to have in their closet and frankly something she thought Zulan in particular could make immediate use of. She felt bad that he wandered around in almost nothing most of the time. How embarrassing and uncomfortable that must be.

She approached him and handed him the object wrapped neatly in brilliantly shiny but easily torn paper with a great big smile on her face.

Zulan, unused to her childlike innocence and indeed this entire custom; glanced first at the parcel, then at the girl in quiet consternation. “And this is…?”

Renee's smile somehow widened as she lifted her arms a bit higher. “It's a Christmas present, silly!”

Zulan frowned as he considered the slim, brightly wrapped parcel dubiously for several moments before just deciding to shrug and go with it. He picked the box up from her arms and tested its weight carefully. Well, it didn't seem like it might be an explosive or indeed anything at all with machinery, so he tore off the outer wrapping to find it covering a long white box. He cast Reneé one last raised eyebrow just to gage her attitude first: but her expression didn't appear unhappy or murderous, so he pulled the lid of the box free.

What sat inside the delicate edges and paper stuffing the box was a beautiful tailored suit: complete with Jacket, pants and shirt. He stared at the clothing in utter bafflement for several moments, then glanced up at Reneé in silent confusion.

“Well, you always go around wearing… not a whole lot, so I figured you must be poor and not have any nice clothes!” She said with a cheerful chirp in her voice. “I made a few calls, but I'm pretty sure I got your size right.” She then proceeded to ramble on about how the chosen color would definitely bring out his eyes and now he could go to formal events without drawing attention and so on.

Zulan just stood there, nonplussed as the deluge of information assaulted his ears. He neither knew what precisely what he was going to do with such a gift nor how to stop Reneé talking now she seemed to have broken some kind of conversational leak. Finally, as the rambling went from amusing to uncomfortably long; he just forced a smile and nodded. “Yes, yes… uh, thank you very much.”

That seemed to do the trick, Reneé stopped babbling, flashed him a smile brighter than before and then bounced off, leaving him with his new suit.

EldridSmith

 

[Jet]

​

He couldn't believe what he saw in the mirror. His fake beard looked completely ridiculous. The wig and hat were even worse than the beard, and his red coat made him consider suicide. He would never do another contract like this again, to go undercover and catch a monster hiding in the mall. It was an assignment that made him question his sanity and dignity, and being anonymous was the only consolation he had.

He checked his swords before heading outside. He wasn't going to be caught without his weapons, even a mall could be dangerous on occasion. There was no telling what lurked in the sweaters of weird hipster women, and hot topic attracted Necrophages. "Hmm..."

He twisted his hat to make sure it was proper. He wasn't going to half ass his assignment. He was going to be the best mall Santa that ever was.

"Ready," he said before tucking his swords in his belt. "Ho ho ho you sorry ingrates."

Meanwhile, Faraji strolled through the mall with his son riding on his shoulders. He was finally home and this was a chance to bond with him.

"Hey bud, it's your first time meeting Santa face to face!"

"I recall the first time I met Santa Claus. It was a cold night and I lay beneath the blankets. The fireplace crackled and I was drifting asleep. I looked at the window and—

He stopped when he noticed the crowd beside Santa. There were some troubling murmurs floating through the air.

"Excuse me?" He said to a woman. "Is there a problem?"

"Oh is there! He's got swords with him! He told my little Billy that he needed swords to kill monsters! What kind of asshole does that?"

"Oh dear," Faraji said before inching closer to the scene. He watched in horror as a boy approached Santa.

"Um...." The boy nervously shifted his weight. "Hello Santa."

"Ho ho ho," Adrian growled. "You should be more confident, never let them see your fear."

"Wha.... why do you have swords?" The boy clutched his list for dear life.

"Wendigos plague the northern ice fields. I'd be defenseless without them."

"What's a wendigo?"

"A beast that sustains itself on manflesh — dangerous and aggressive, marks its territory with the bones of its victims."

The boy stumbled back and ran to his mother, crying as the crowd booed and jeered. They scattered as Adrian stood and screamed, "Your boos mean nothing, I've seen what makes you cheer!"

"Pardon me, but are you really cut out for this?" Faraji stood his ground as the crowd dispersed, leaving him alone with Santa. "You seem more suited for security."

"Hmm?" Adrian sat on his throne of candy canes. "I'm the best Santa that ever was or will be. If this mall erupted into chaos, I'd be the one stopping it's destruction."

"Look," Faraji said. "Could you put on your best Santa impression for my son, please he's never met Santa before. It would mean to world to us."

"Fine," Adrian said. "Ho ho ho."

"Thankyou kindly!" Faraji approached the man and with every step he took, he felt like they'd met before. There was something quite familiar in his eyes. "Have we met before?"

"No."

"I'm quite sure we have."

"Nope."

"Is your name Adrian?"

"No never heard of him, my name is uhhh.... Steven."

"Steven?" Faraji chuckled and said, "Did you change your name?"

"You're not being very good this year, maybe your son should get coal?"

"Adrian..." Faraji rubbed his temples. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there, you know, killing stuff and—

Faraji stopped as something caught his eye. There was a figure in the passing crowds of people. "What the hell is that creature?"

"Hmm?" Adrian stood and looked around. "Where's the monster Faraji? Where is it? Tell me where the monster is and I'll kill it. It doesn't matter how many there are. It could be a hundred monsters, a thousand, a hundred thousand. Five billion years of monsters Faraji. Tell me where they are and I'll cut them into pieces."

"Ermm... my son is here you know?"

"That doesn't matter!" Adrian grabbed the collar of his shirt. "This isn't a game Faraji, we're hunting Krampus."

"We?"

"Yes we! Now, do you see it?"

"Maybe." Faraji narrowed his eyes. "Does a Krampus have wooden skin and long claws made of bark, with eyes glowing red and drool coming from its mouth?"

"Yes damnit!"

"Oh he's right over there." Faraji pointed at the monster he was looking at. It watched them from a table in the food court. "Good luck!"

"Good luck? I need your help!" Adrian grabbed his arm and rushed towards the Krampus. It screeched as the men approached its table. The ground frosted over and snow blew through the room, windows cracked and Christmas music distorted. It rose from its table and tossed away the Papa Johns it was eating, before grabbing a christmas tree and splitting it in half.

The food court filled with screams and people fled in fear, but the two men stood their ground. "Faraji," Adrian said. "He wants to destroy the Christmas spirit. He won't rest until every tree is torn down, until every gift is take from a child."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Faraji mused. "It could be a lot worse. He could be a murderer for example."

"You don't understand! He's going to kill Santa Claus unless we stop him!"

"Well this is rather dramatic isn't it?" Faraji looked up at his son. The happiness in his eyes was dimming because of Krampus. The sound of breaking lights filled his ears, festive decorations sparked and lit on fire, and in that moment, Faraji understood that he needed to help. He needed to protect Christmas no matter what.

"Tell me," he finally said. "What must be done?"

Adrian nodded with a smirk. "We need to overwhelm him with Christmas spirit."

He pulled two guitars from a nearby trashcan, he'd stashed them there just in case. He wiped teriyaki sauce from the strings before passing Faraji one of them. "We need twenty CCs of Jingle Bell Rock, stat!"

"What?" Faraji said. "I cant play this thing?"

"Yes you can." Adrian put his hand on Faraji's shoulder. "The Christmas spirit is inside all of us, tap into it you son of a bitch! Santa believes in you!"

"Santa isn't even real!"

Krampus grew closer with every second. His heavy steps thumped as the men argued. His breath was foul and creeping cold like the mist, and his fingers stretched out like roots. Adrian desperately shook Faraji and looked into his eyes. "You've never given up on anything in your life, don't start now you bastard! Trust in the Christmas spirit and play damnit! Play your heart out!"

"You're insane!"

"Do it!"

Faraji fumbled with the guitar before strumming the first note. In the moment he didn't have any thoughts or doubts, no hesitancy and fear. He only had a desire to protect Christmas. He felt music in his veins and as the note rang through the room, his hands worked on their own. He knew every note and how to sing every word, and together they performed the greatest Christmas song ever made.

​

Krumpus put up his hands as sound waves slammed into him, but there was no stopping the holiday spirit. His skin flaked away as he released a wretched scream, falling to his knees as he shrunk into a normal person, passing out on the ground with a thump.

"I should've known." Adrian walked forward and rolled the man over. It was none other than Goliath.

"Indeed," Faraji said. "I'm not surprised at all... what do we do with him?"

"There's only one thing we can do."

Ten minutes later, Goliath was strapped to a drum-kit and forced to play percussion for another song. He screamed and his ears bled to the Christmas music, but soon he was cured of his ailment.

And as for the baby? He played the triangle like nobody ever had before, and somewhere in the sky Santa sang "HO HO HO!" for a job well done, and another Christmas saved.

Arcanist

 

[Arcanist]

Still-Life​

Brynwyr paced the length of the log cabin, staring longingly past the snow pelting the windows. Any hope of her getting home was shattered, with the wind whistling and banging the door. Both her and Tessia, who seemed to be having a splendid time at her easel, were enclosed in this cabin, forced to wait for the storm to subside.

The knight envied Tessia’s patience, how relaxed and cut-off from the world she seemed as her paintbrush swept over the canvas.

Or so she was made to believe.

While Tessia always travelled somewhere in the landscape of her paintings, she still had the natural talent of any centurion of staying connected to the outside world. She watched Brynwyr pace the floor, stand and look outside, before pacing again. She sat on the sofa. She got up again and walked into the kitchen. She came back again. And again.

Tessia’s brush continued to caress the canvas. “Bryn, have you ever painted?”

The knight stopped, and Tessia could see her pout, as if it was a difficult question to ponder.

“No, not really,” she finally said. The question at least stopped her in her tracks. That was a good start if anything.

“Never? Really?” Tessia raised an eyebrow. She stopped painting, pausing to look at her latest masterpiece. An open bird cage, its inhabitant a songbird with an open beak.

“I’m not very…”

“Good? That hardly matters.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

Tessia laughed then, and Brynwyr looked all so seriously at her. “Not everyone paints for perfection, you know,” she lifted her canvas off the easel. “Some of us paint because we enjoy it, and we find it relaxing. Maybe it’s something you should give a chance.”

Brynwyr hesitated then and smiled politely. “Oh, no, I don’t think…”

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Brynwyr!” She set the canvas down near another window and grabbed Brynwyr by the shoulders. “Come, sit!” She forced Brynwyr down into the chair, her shoulders tensing under her hands. “It’s like making brand new life – well, without the ins and outs, pardon the pun,” she winked, and delighted in the knight’s cringe.

Tessia didn’t hesitate in gathering everything one needed to express themselves in an art piece. “There, you have your fresh paint, a blank canvas, brushes. Now…create!”

Brynwyr stared at the canvas and by the hesitance on her face, she seemed petrified of the inanimate paints and brushes. The only sound between the two women was the sound of the storm whooshing outside their door. Finally, Brynwyr turned to the eager Centurion, and cleared her throat. “Create…what, exactly?”

Tessia dropped her arms. She wasn’t serious, was she? “What do you mean ‘what’? That’s precisely the point. Something, anything you want. Let your imagination whisk you away and just go for it!”

Brynwyr shuffled in the chair, looking back at the white canvas with as much enthusiasm as a mucky dog being thrown into a washtub.

Tessia sighed, pulling up a stool and plopping herself down in it beside Brynwyr. “Well, let’s brainstorm a little, shall we?” She chuckled as the knight looked to her for help, a silent pleading to stop holding her hostage to a painting. “I’m not going to leave you to paint on your own. In fact, I’ll help with the brush strokes, the colour theory, everything! I’m not that mean.”

“A-alright then…” Brynwyr nodded, unsure of whether to be comforted by her words. She tried to think of something she could paint. Nothing too hard or strenuous. “How about…a flower?”

“A flower! Nice and easy. We can start with that,” Tessia smiled and nodded. She picked up a brush and dipped her brush into the paint water. “Careful not to drink that. I’ve done that one too many times,” she admitted. “You’ll want a bit of water on your brush. Not too much though, we don’t want to make the paint too watery. Just a nice consistency so it brushes nicely onto the canvas.”

Brynwyr swallowed back and nodded, taking her brush and tentatively dipped her brush into the water. “I’m thinking maybe yellow, like a sunflower?”

“What a great idea,” Tessia agreed with a smile. “We’ll do a huge one since we have a huge canvas.”

Tessia exercised patience with Brynwyr. She taught the knight to do a fine outline first of the sunflower, which spanned from the corner of the canvas and stretched over most of it. She guided her hand – literally, taking her hand – in strokes across the canvas. Brynwyr still felt tense under an artist’s gaze, being a complete amateur, but much less so when she was sat down by Tessia.

“What about a bee, or perhaps a ladybug crawling along one of the petals?” Brynwyr suggested, eyes glued to the yellow as she dragged yellow across the canvas. She didn’t quite have the stroke yet, but that would come in time.

“No reason to not do both!” Tessia grinned. “There are no rules in painting, you know. All part of the fantastic artistic experience. I’ll grab some more paint.”

Some yellow petals and a browned, dotted centre later, they both began work on some insects claiming the flower as home.

“Why a sunflower if you don’t mind me asking? A little strange to be painting in the dead of winter.”

Tessia believed Brynwyr hadn’t heard her at first, so deep in concentration as she dotted her ladybird. She hummed in thought.

“I suppose that’s true. I guess…I just like them. They remind me of happier times.”

Ohhhh, dear. Here comes the sob story, the trauma, all the baggage that people usually came with. Tessia hadn’t prompted her, but Brynwyr continued, too caught up in the painting to hesitate on what she was saying.

“I like summer the most out of all the seasons. Winter, not so much. After I started spending winters without my mother, it hasn’t been quite the same as it used to be.” Brynwyr pulled back from the ladybird, tilted her head, and wiped her paintbrush on a spare rag.

“Shit. Sorry to hear that.”

Brynwyr shrugged. “It’s one of those things. I suppose a lot of us go through it. My uncle and his family were good to me.” There was another pang of melancholy there, but she shook her head. “Could I have a smaller brush, please?”

Tessia pulled herself from the moment, one the knight seemed eager to move on from. “Sure.” She handed her a finer brush, and watched her dot black over the ladybird’s wings. She rose from her stool with an exaggerated groan and offered, “Eggnog?”

Brynwyr finished a dot. “Sure. But don’t be offended if I don’t like it. I’ve never had it before.”

“What do you Albions drink then at Christmas?”

“Anything alcoholic, like mulled wine. Or hot chocolate. Eggnog isn’t so big there,” Brynwyr explained.

Tessia shook her head as she walked into the kitchen. “Man, I’m glad you got out of there for a little. You’re in luck. I put brandy in mine.”

The painting continued, though, Tessia didn’t find it as uncomfortable as what others would. She rarely did, and again, thrived on situations like that. But she noted Brynwyr did not feel a discomfort either – or if she did, she masked it effectively. Tessia made the odd quip or joke, and she got something like a chuckle out of the knight, plus Brynwyr asked for one or two more eggnogs, which fairly loosened her up a little more.

“I think I’m done,” Brynwyr announced, putting down her brush.

For someone who hadn’t picked up a brush, she was pleased with the finished piece. The sunflower spanned most of the blue canvas, a myriad of gold following the sun, with bees and ladybirds resting or working upon the flower. Simple, but effective.

“It’s looking good,” Tessia nodded, giving her artistic approval. “See? You’re not so bad a painter after all. Some more practice and you’ll be well on your way.”

Brynwyr chuckled. “I don’t know about that. I think I’ll stick to my swordplay and magic. Although,” she tilted her head with a smile, “it was relaxing.”

“See? Kept you from pacing the cabin with that whole storm going on.” Tessia bumped her shoulder with her fist, and the two looked out the window. The storm was still raging, but some hours had passed since then. They’d be stuck overnight here for sure.

“Well,” Brynwyr finally rose from her stool, stiff from the long session of painting. “I suppose we have to waste more time before this storm is over.” She looked at Tessia and raised an eyebrow. “Another eggnog?”

Tessia laughed, getting up and clapping Brynwyr on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit. I’ll go whip up some more.”

Jet

 

[Arcanist]

Christmas Cookie Chaos​

“There we go,” Vixie struggled with effort as she hit the doorbell with a free pinkie. She balanced her bags, full of ingredients and cooking utensils on any limb that could hold such things. Though, the longer she waited outside the door, the more she wondered if Faraji was even home this Christmas Eve. Would he have gone back to his home country?

Vixie tried the doorbell again. “Come on, please…” She knew this was last minute, a huge favour to ask of him, but everyone else was either away from home or couldn’t help her. She was about to knock in her desperation until the door opened.

She expected someone taller, but instead she looked down and found the toothy grin of a boy with dark curls.

“Hello!” He greeted with a loud enthusiasm only children could muster.

“Oh, um,” Vixie was taken aback, but she returned a smile just as bright and big for the boy. “H-hello! I’m looking for…” She considered her words. Was this Faraji’s son? She forgot that he even had a son, though, he lived alone and was constantly at work or some other social gathering that the fact slipped her mind entirely.

Vixie tried again. “I’m looking for your father. Is he here?”

“Casimir!” His father’s voice carried from further within, and Vixie heard the rushed footsteps get closer to the door. “I told you not to go and open the door on your own!” Faraji scooped the boy into his arms, only glancing out the door at who had called. His surprise was as prevalent as Vixie’s. “Oh, Vixie. I didn’t expect to see you at my door so close to Christmas. Don’t tell meal those gifts are for us,” he nodded to the bags with a grin.

Vixie smiled sheepishly, though, she did have to drop one or two on the doorstep. “Um, well, not exactly,” she admitted, “I’ve actually come to ask you a favour?”

Something in his smile was forced, a similar politeness to what Vixie was putting on herself. Asking favours, especially on the eve of Christmas, was not often looked upon fondly. “Yes? What’s the favour?”

“Well,” Vixie sighed, “I was baking Christmas cookies, and I specifically started doing them this morning so my parents wouldn’t see me baking them since I want to give them some for Christmas. So I left the cookies to cool near the window and was planning to wrap them up and keep them hidden but I turned my back for a minute – just a minute! – and they were gone! And there was a crumb trail leading from the window all the way to the alleyway nearby and all these raccoons were just eating all my cookies!”

Faraji listened to her babble on about her stolen cookies, in something of a state of disbelief. He tried to follow her line of dialogue, all while Casimir pulled on his collar and equally babbled on about wanting cookies, because of course, any conversation about the dreaded c-word was bound to set Casimir off on an obsession with cookies.

“So, I’ve come to you – because I can’t bake a new batch with my parents in the house, so…?”

Faraji hesitated for a moment. “I’m…mm. I’m not exactly a baker, Vixie. I wouldn’t even know where to start!” He chuckled nervously. It was a pathetic excuse. Casimir was running around his feet enough already – did he want Vixie doing the same too?

“Oh, no, you wouldn’t be baking! I just need to use your kitchen. Everyone else I’ve asked are all using their ovens. So, I figured, who wouldn’t be using theirs?”

The two were quiet, staring at each other, Vixie urging Faraji with her eyes to say…

“…me. You thought I wouldn’t be using the oven?” He wasn’t sure whether to be offended.

Vixie shrugged and gave him an apologetic smile. “Please? Pretty please? I’ll give you and Casimir some cookies as thanks! And I’ll leave your kitchen spick and span afterwards, I promise!”

“Pleaseeee, Papa?” Casimir tugged at Faraji’s collar, pouting. “I want a cookie!”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Faraji sighed, putting Casimir down and opening the door further for Vixie to enter.

“Oh, great! Thank you, Faraji, you don’t know how much this means to me,” Vixie squealed with delight, grabbing her bags again and waddling through the door with them. “Where’s your kitchen?”

Faraji watched Casimir stomp after her, and called after her, “Straight ahead and through to the back.” He sighed, following the two.

Vixie was already setting out all her ingredients, cooking utensils, turning the oven on, practically taking over the whole kitchen. Casimir pulled at her clothing and begged, “I want to help! Let me help!”

“Casimir,” Faraji warned, though, Vixie just laughed.

“Oh, no, it’s no problem,” Vixie insisted, “in fact, it might be quite fun, if you’re ok with him baking with me.”

Faraji hummed, scratching his chin, and he sighed, shrugging. “He’s like his mother - determined to get his own way. I won’t be able to drag him away easily from something he wants to do, so I guess he’s free to bake cookies to his heart’s desire.” Faraji lifted Casimir onto a stool, so he had full view of their workspace. “Alright, Miss Baker, what do we need to do first? Casimir, you have to use your ears to listen, remember?”

Casimir nodded, and cupped his ears to show he was in full, epic listening mode! Even though he might zone out somewhere in between, no doubt.

“Okay! First, we have to put all our ingredients in. I already have everything measured out,” Vixie explained, moving some icing sugar, vanilla extract, and butter towards Casimir and Faraji. “Can you put these into a bowl for me, and I’ll separate the egg yolk?”

Faraji was surprised at the patience he had with his son in baking. He thought he would slow the process down for Vixie, considering how flustered and anxious she was to get into his kitchen, but she took her time with the two of them and showed them exactly what needed to be done. Faraji and Casimir mixed in the ingredients, creating a fine dough for them to work with, which they rolled out and got to cut with some cute Christmas shape cutters Vixie had offered.

It wasn’t nearly as difficult as Faraji imagined baking would be. If anything, it was quite relaxing, and the concentration Casimir had in cutting out shapes was unmatched.

The three sat with some hot cocoa while waiting for the cookies to bake, delighting in the tasty beverage and talking over what would happen over Christmas. The affair went on for that long that Vixie paled and leapt up from her seat.

“The cookies! Turn the oven off!”

“Oh, shi—”

By the time they got to the oven and pulled out the cookies, most of them looked like charcoal Christmas trees and blackened hooks than the delightful images of Christmas images.

“Ahh, fuc….” Faraji cut himself off, sighing and rubbing his face. Vixie could only stare at what could have been. Casimir’s eyes were already welling with tears.

“Sorry, Vixie. I was sure we put a timer on for these things…” He scratched his head.

Vixie’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Those were the only ingredients I had left too…now what am I gonna do?”

Faraji stared at the cookies, until his eyes widened, and he snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute,” he pointed to Vixie, and he sprinted over to one of his cupboards, reaching into the back and pulling out a container. “I forgot I got these for Christmas,” he grinned, handing Vixie the box. “Now, I know what you’re thinking – it’s hardly what you set out to do, making cookies from scratch just to end up using storebought ones. But these don’t have any icing on them. Why don’t we just decorate these ones?”

Vixie tapped her chin, pondering. She hesitated at the idea, but then she shrugged, “I guess you could say we made them by decorating…that still counts, right?”

“Of course, it does! Better than me bringing storebought canopies and passing them off as me making them,” Faraji winked.

A Christmas miracle – or half-miracle, whatever. Faraji, Casimir and Vixie got to decorating their cookies with green and white and red icing, with sprinkles here and there and a dash of delicious Christmas cheer. Casimir did get his cookie in the end (really, he wouldn’t taste the difference in a storebought one or baked one), Vixie got some cookies to give out for Christmas, and Faraji was given an honorary shoutout as co-baker (and was gifted his own cookies as a gift).

Faraji left the other cookies outside his window purposefully for the neighbourhood thieves…but surprisingly, no takers.

Lost Echo

 

[ZackStop]

Run Merc Run
​

Howling winds swept snow across the Nye in all its glory, freezing your very soul if you dared leave the warmth of your cozy homes. Yes, it was a dreadful winter night, a bitter cold that brought out the worst in people. That blisteringly unpleasant cold that makes your fingers freeze off and your face goes numb. The only thing that can make it all better is... One second.

The pop of a cork off a bottle was almost loud enough to echo as Spivey stopped to drink. They were used to the cold, sure, but on a night as viciously frigid as tonight, even they needed booze to warm them up, and a few gulps later, they were back to full strength. "Now where was I? Right..." They let out a belch as the scene set back in. In this silver hued hell that is possibly one of Nye's worst winters to date, there was a touch of gold within it, a warm fiery glow that radiated out of the Gonpander Mansion. Drawing closer, one could hear the laughter and classy jazz that played inside. A Christmas party was being thrown by the Gonpanders, a grossly rich family known for their distribution of oil and trades of pelts from exotic beasts all across the globe. Countless rich folk all piled inside, blissfully unaware of the winter turmoil Mother Nature had whipped up.

"Real swell people." Spivey once again broke away from the narrating, revealing their crossed fingers as they spoke. "You know, take from the rich, give to the poor. Except the poor get nothing, and Gonpanders line their pockets." The merc hoisted themselves up with a little grunt as they stood atop the mansion. "Same story, different characters. But why am I here? Well..." They looked down from the rooftop seeing two guards doing their best to stay sane as every so often the wind cut through their ribs. "I'm the honorary guest, but those guys just don't know it."

Wearing a nice wool trench coat over a suit with a blue necktie that matched their 'eyes', the blue lenses on their mask, Spivey swung the doors open to the fanciest party they may have ever seen. No one paid the masked individual any mind despite the strange mix matched appearance; they were too busy mingling with one another to care. They gazed left and right as the doors shut behind them, in search of a certain someone.

"Spivey, are you inside?" A man's voice cut in on the earpiece hidden under the mask. "Say the code word when you're inside and I'll give you your instruction." The merc was a little distracted at the moment, responding with some delay. "Cosmopolitan cocktail..." They said with a flat tone, before a server walked by and handed them one. Spivey took the drink on instinct, only to double take a moment later. "Alright, good. I'll be activating the camera now." Pulling out a little straw from their gasmask, Spivey started sipping on the cocktail with a slurping sound while walking deeper in the density of people of high society. "Mhm." The merc responded with limited interest. While their companion in their ear was after one person in particular, the person our resident drunk was looking for was a lady to take home tonight. On that front however, no one in caught their eye. Sure there were some beautiful women in this crowd, but non compared to what graced their eyes in the coming moments.

The voice in Spivey's ear quickly began to take a backseat to what the merc was seeing. Stunning red locks like a bouquet of roses, curled to perfection and resting upon her fair skin, just barely gracing her bare shoulders. A lithe woman wrapped in a velvet dress that matched her deep majestic eyes, eyes that, if were to gaze upon a lesser man, they would certainly turn him to stone. But Spivey was no mere mortal man, but practically a womanizer by trade. This woman however, just might be their match, as she confidently stood with one glass of champagne held between her fingers, while her other hand gently combed through a lock of hair beside her ear. The extravagant gold hanging from her earlobes, each with four white gemstones dangling from beneath them, only added to her majesty. All the while, multiple men stood around her, clearly trying to romance her with varying success, but she wouldn't tell them so.

Spivey tosses their drink off to the side and strutted forward confidently as the glass shattered to the ground. Uncaring of the people in the way, shoving them all out of the way as they approached this ruby in the pile of coal. Grabbing hold of the arms of two men around her and throwing them off to either side, before approaching her and taking her hand. "Senorita... you're as beautiful as a sunset rose. Shall we dance?" The woman was not at all taken aback by this, instead giving a little smirk where her face was already a faint smile. "A dance with the legendary 007?" The woman responded, surprising Spivey. "Oh, you've heard of me?" Asking rhetorically before the woman dropped her drink before slapping Spivey across the face (mask).

"Spivey..." a faint voice called out.

"Let's skip the dance." The fiery woman suggested, before attacking Spivey's mask with her mouth.

"Spivey!" Like the scratch of a needle falling off the vinyl, the fantasy ends abruptly. "Spivey? Hello? Are you even listening?" The man in their ear had been trying to get the damn drunk's attention.

"Hm? Right yeah, who's my hit?" Spivey looked around before spotting the man being described. He was a rather large man, and not around the waist either. Broad shoulders were wrapped in a jet black blazer below dark brown slicked back hair. There wasn't much more to note as the man had his back turned and was heading up the stairs across the ballroom. He tilted his head off to the side, revealing his heavybrowed scowl with a scar on his cheek. He certainly looked tough, but not too tough thought our merc.

"That's our hit, Spivey, Richard Gonpander, son of the late Drake Gonpander." Spivey whistled which crackled through the mask in response to the man in the chair. "Tough break huh? First her husband and now her son. My condolences Mrs. Gonpander."

As they said these empty words, going for the gun at their hip, the voice quickly interjected. "Spivey I swear to god, do NOT fire that thing off in the ballroom!" The killer tsked, taking their hand away from the handgun. "He's heading up into a hallway, follow him there and do it quietly will you?"

"Fuck, you play too much, Doc. Fine I'll do it all stealthy like. Straight out of the movies, 007 type shit." They strutted forward while giving lip, glancing back over where the woman once stood. In that small amount of time however, she up and vanished, and that alone distracted Spivey, long enough to get snuck up from behind by three large men dressed as servers.

A quick pistol whip to the head was enough to knock them, as one of the trio quickly caught the falling body. "Son of a-!" Naturally, the merc tried to resist, but these guys were simply more built.

"Not to worry, this one's had too much to drink!" One spoke with a thick accent to reassure the crowd, which worked like a charm as it seemed no one was too interested in questioning the commotion. Meanwhile, the other two wrestled Spivey away through a door, leading into some sort of broom closet.

"Ffffuck! Fucking Russians! Sons of fucking... bitches!" They thought to themself with a kick that almost managed to get the drunk free. "Why are there fucking Russians here!?"

"Consider this as payment for what you took from us." BOOM. The door slammed shut behind them before Spivey was chucked to the floor. Quickly, they went for their gun, but once again these three wasted no time to restrain by the two, aka, the muscle, while the brains of the operation was equally large. Brains wasted no time nonchalantly pulling the pistol from Spivey's holster with a scummy smirk on his face.

The duo continued to yank their arms and legs to try and get out of the Russians' grips. It was everyone's worst fear, getting jumped by guys like these Russian mob types. Worse over, the welt on the back of Spivey's head was really starting to hurt. It was dulling their vision and weakening their every move.

"It brings me great pleasure finding you here, oh mythical Sphinx." The brains stated, playing with the pistol like it was a toy. "You don't know who the fuck we are, do you? That's okay." Saying with a shrug, before instructing one of his lackeys to "remove the mask." In their tongue. These words rang in Spivey's ear. They knew exactly what they said and wasn't about to let the likes of these unmask the great Spivey.

As soon as they let go of their leg to then go for the mask, Spivey put everything they had into one kick, practically skewering brains in the gut as it sank right in. The man fell back and slumped to the floor, and it was instantly pandemonium. Everything from cleaning chemicals to mops flying any which way. In the chaos Spivey managed to land a solid hit to a man's throat, the flesh between their thumb and index stinging from the impact.

In a moment of resourcefulness, Spivey uncapped a bottle of bleach and splashed it onto a man's face, while another fruitlessly gasped on the floor through his broken windpipe. The Russians did everything they could, but they were a slippery one.

Managing to scoop up their pistol and bursting out the door, the hit was back in progress. The brains and a half burnt Russian left their suffocated brother behind, looking around for where Spivey had gone in this crowd. The half blind bastard spotted them running up the staircase, whipping out and pointing their gun, only to get it yanked away and reprimanded by the man in charge. Cursing him out with something along the lines of "blowing their cover."

"Doc... Doc!" Spivey yelled into their mic as they speed walked down the hallway. "Why the fuck, are there fucking Russians here!" Luckily no one was in this part of the mansion, except for maybe Richard.

"Calm down Spivey, I don't fucking know. No one's supposed to even know you're here. Look, just stay on route. Richy Rich should be around here somewhere." Spivey suspiciously looked over their shoulder for just a moment before quickening their pace. "Yeah he fucking better be, I'm racing against the clock here! I need to get out of here before those cock suckers find me again!" They quickly turned the corner then backed up again. Then they stood there, peeking around the corner. "Bingo."

There he was, walking down the hall, ready to turn the corner. Spivey got their gun ready, checking to see if it's still good to go after the fiasco, but a sneak attack was on it's way just before they could raise their gun.

Black heels quietly moved in behind the merc, attached to a red haired vixen. She flipped her hair to the side, before wacking em over the head with a candle stick. "What the-!" Spivey nearly shouted in frustration, just unable to catch a break.

"Hiyah!" Was all they heard before getting a firm kick to the back of the knee, forcing them to the ground. She twirled around gracefully, leaping up and putting Spivey into an armbar mid air, their head nearly smooshed between the woman's legs. "What the fuh-SHOOF-" Putting all her body weight into a rapid turning motion, her victim became a corkscrew that was soon to slam into solid marble.

"Whew! That felt good." Euclaire exclaimed, pushing all her hair back and out of her face. The redhead turned on a heel to face the man in the mask, who she so effortlessly grounded. She gave Spivey a nice smile. "Sorry sweetheart, can't have you putting a hole in my man, can I?" She placed both hands on her knees, looking down at Spivey who was still groaning on the floor.

"What are you? Some god damn ninja?" The drunk stood, but not nearly drunk enough for this. "... Is that a candle stick?" The question made her look down a tad surprised. "What's with this 'who done it' shtick-" They huffed. "Listen lady, you're hot and all..." They huffed. "But killing that son of a bitch is my mission, and I really gotta do it in a flash you hear? So no more of that ninja crap!"

In an attempt to walk past her peacefully, all they were met with was a swift kick with a sharp high heel only inches away from their face. Her foot went back to the ground with a click. "Sorry darling, but that man has something I want and I need him alive to get it. You can understand, right?" She said with a pouty expression.

"You're really barking up the wrong tree, woman. I got enough problems as it is so the sooner I get my hit the sooner I can get out of this madhouse."

The words of a trained killer fell on deaf ears, as the woman began to slowly remove her earrings. "It appears that we have conflicting motives, and I don't have time to squabble. Seems we'll have to settle this the old fashioned way."

Taking a quick step back, Spivey holstered the gun. "That's how you wanna play it huh?" They put up their hands, ready for this to get ugly. "I'm not afraid to hit a woman."

"neither am I." She said with a smirk, clearly very confident in their abilities to be taunting.

"Oh you..." They let out a laugh, really trying not to get more frustrated. "So you got a sharp tongue. but I don't got time pussy cat!" With two strides Spivey went in with a straight, only to get redirected and struck twice in the ribs. "Fuck!"

"Be careful who you're calling 'pussy cat.' You might get..." She swiftly raised a knee, her heel slashing through the air like a blade. "...claws!"

The kick came close to connecting, but Spivey was able to push it away, going in for another frontal assault. The two traded blows, but never managing to fully connect. The wind whizzed as the two tried to find openings, eyes peeled for the smallest mistake, and the first one to make one was the merc. Putting way too much force into a punch that was easily avoided.

"You'd probably be able to fight better without that gasmask on! What's under there anyway I wonder?" She quickly ducked back as a backhand came flying towards her face.

"You wanna know so bad?" The two engaged in a clench for a moment, fighting to get leverage. "We can take this to the sheets and you can find out." They announced the unsavory comment with confidence, only getting a disgusted grunt in response as the woman pushed away her opponent. Not without taking something however.

Placing one hand on her hip, she hooked the trigger guard around her finger and let it hang like a carrot on a stick. "I assume you're gonna need this? I should let you know I am an excellent pickpocket." Spivey looked down, almost in disbelief, holding open one end of the coat to find it missing.

"You give that back." They commanded, only for her to get the biggest grin on her face.

"Spivey you're getting your ass kicked. You should probably hurry it up." Doc spoke up. "The Russians are hot on your tail." Their voice was rather uncaring, but had the smallest hint of urgency.

They quickly lunged for the gun in her hand, surprising red with their swiftness as the two wrestled for the gun. "Come on, let go already!"

She winced at Spivey's sudden strength. "Whatever the rush is, it's really riled him up!" She thought before responding. "Why? So you can shoot me!?"

Glancing over down the hall, Spivey could see Richard turning yet another corner, blissfully unaware of what's going on just behind him. "What, is this guy deaf or something?" They thought.

Cutting over to Richard briefly, He was casually humming a tune as the black earbuds in his ears played some pop music.

It didn't take long for the two to inevitably lose their grip on the firearm, which caused it to go flying into the air before clattering against the fine molding on the wall. The two stopped what they were doing, pausing as they held each other's hands where the gun once was. Both looked at each other for a moment, then quickly scrambled towards the gun. Spivey playing dirty, shoved her down before diving for it, but only inches away, she grabbed onto their leg, trying to pull them away from the gun.

"Gah! Bitch- let- go!" With all they had, Spivey managed to pull the gun towards them using their fingertips, shoving her away and breaking into a full sprint down the hall.

"Dammit!" She shouted, her heels clacking on the floor as she followed close behind. The killer had turned the corner and outstretched their shooting hand, so she had no choice but to tackle them to the ground. Both of their heads bashed into the wall, tacking onto Spivey's head trauma of the night, and once again this rich bastard got away.

Spivey slammed their fist into the ground in pure frustration. "What is your problem, woman? It's just one guy. There's plenty more out there!"

"If you must know..." The woman grunted while rubbing her head. "...that particular man can get me into a safe, so I can score myself a particularly large diamond, and I can't do that if he's dead!"

Euclaire took this moment to shove her hand into Spivey's chin and pushing their face into the ground. This gave her more control as she attempted to climb on top to keep them pinned, which proved a little tricky when Spivey began to squirm. But before either of them could get a meaningful advantage over one another, a couple of new faces to the fight arrived.

"Hey!" Yelled the burly men from before, pointing his finger at Euclaire and Spivey, to which the rivals both whipped their heads towards. They then started yelling in Russian as the other one began to fire. Bullets whizzed overhead and blasted holes in the wall, barely missing the two. They both ran around the corner and planted their backs against the wall, Spivey closer to the corner while Euclaire went wide eyed at the sudden leap in danger. She was only inches away from getting her brains splattered after all. She definitely didn't sign up for all this.

"That was supposed to be a quick and easy job..." She stated out loud, to which Spivey replied with, "You're telling me! Couldn't have said it better myself!" Their voice quickly became drowned out by the insistent gun shots blasting through the mahogany molding, making the two flinch.

"Just who the hell are those guys!?" A fiery glare shot over at the mercenary who was laying down some return fire, more or less blindly shooting with only a hand exposed.

"Russians!" They flinched and pulled their gun hand away as bullets nearly blew it off. "Fuck! Shit! You just had to slow me down with your ninja moves, didn't you?!"

Upon turning back towards Euclaire, the woman was already gone. She was taking advantage of the situation to get back on Richard's tail and leaving Spivey behind. "Yeah, just lead the way then!" sarcastically announcing before springing up and running after them. "Tell you what, I let you get that safe open and we share the earnings."

"I'm not splitting a thing with you! Just look at this mess! If it weren't for you I wouldn't have Russian mobsters hot on my tail!" She made very good points, but that was no concern of Spivey's. This whole situation was fucked to begin with ever since the comrades came for them.

Quickly turning, Spivey let out two shots, getting the grunt once in the leg and once in the lung, and seeing the sack of meat drop, they turned and continued running. "Just one Russian now!"

"Oh so much better!" She complained some more. "And then there's you, trying to cut a deal after screwing everything up! Are you insane?"

"A tad." Spivey responded like it was a casual thing, even making a hand gesture to emphasize what 'a tad' looked like. "They're gonna outrun us soon." They stopped at a door, gripping the handle firmly before swinging it up as it creaked and slammed into the wall. "In here!"

Euclaire threw her hands up and rolled her eyes with exasperation at the relatively sober drunk's plot to hide. "Fine!" She followed Spivey into the room before shutting the door behind her. "Just don't think this makes us allies."

They scoffed. "I'm hurt!" Spivey's sarcasm was as on point as their aim; only the sarcasm had more chances to hit. They placed their hand on their chest to further emote and push the performance of an offended individual, which only soured Euclaire's mood. Her face flared up with a hint of redness with her mouth clasped shut; otherwise they might have screamed. The fellow they found themselves lumped with was particularly gifted when it came to testing the patience of even the most easy going of people, but Euclaire's gift was to put on a pretty face so to not let people know how she was feeling. A front that worked to keep herself safe and make men vulnerable to manipulation, a tactic she would be employing in spades right now if it weren't for this maniac's interference.

Nonetheless, the woman relaxed herself, swallowed her rage, and gave a grin. It soon faded, however, when just outside their hide out they heard the Russian's footsteps approach, slow down, then stop. The heavy sound of his soles against marble began to slowly make their way across the hall.

Closing one eye, Euclaire knelt down and peeked through the old door's keyhole. "Oh no." She didn't like what she was seeing. Just across the hall, parallel to the room they were in, was Richard Gonpander, back turned to the grizzly bear making his approach.

"What do you see? Is it good?"

"What part of 'oh no' sounds good to you?" She retorted before pulling at the slit in her dress to reveal a small handgun strapped to her thigh, nearly knocking the merc out with the sight. "I'm gonna kill a Russian."

"What?" Spivey didn't know what to make of that. "Let me see." Shoving Euclaire out of the way as the flabbergasted woman scoffed at their audacity. "Oh hell no, you're not taking my fucking hit, you bastard!"

"Or my diamond!" Euclaire followed up, clicking her gun off the safety. The two came bursting through the door with guns in hands and motives aligned, ready to make swiss cheese.

As the door slammed into the wall, Richard, an absolute unit standing at least 6'5 and built like a lineman and permanently having the scowl of a man ready to rip your head off, jumped and turned around quickly, screaming off the top of his lungs. It wasn't just any scream of fear either; the man had the highest, squeakiest voice, more akin to that of a little girl, stunning all three of his armed guests.

"What the fuck?" Spivey said with disbelief, so much so that they almost didn't realize the Russian was lifting his arm to aim. Euclaire however, was not so stunned. The woman was still extremely confused about how this man with that voice didn't quite match up, but she was quick with her peashooter, able to put two holes in the Russian before he could even fire a shot. And with a large 'THUD', the big man fell, once again causing Mr. Gonpander to scream his girly scream.

"Zip it!" She pointed the tiny gun at him, making the man cease. "Where's the safe?"

"W-what?" He responded, still in a comically high-pitched voice.

"The safe, where is it?"

"What?"

Spivey shook off the surprise of the man's admittedly funny voice and walked up to him, his anxiety growing with every step. Plucking out an earbud, the merc reiterated. "WHERE'S THE SAFE!?" Screaming it as loud as possible.

"The one with the diamond." Euclaire specified while walking up closer, her gun kept on him in case he did anything.

A few short minutes later, Richard, with both hands up, as the two shoved him along with the guns up against his back, led them to a room with a safe. With much anticipation, he began to put in the combination.

"You're still not getting a cut." Euclaire whispered to Spivey.

"Yeah, whatever."

"You are insufferable."

"Okay."

Euclaire growled under her breath, but then it happened. A clicking sound indicated that it was open.

"Move aside, pixie-breath!" Spivey eagerly shoved the man to the side as he fell over with ease, like the weakling he was.

"Hey, my safe, my diamond." Euclaire corrected. Spivey simply shrugged and stepped aside to let her do the honors. A golden glow began to emanate from within it as the woman slowly opened the metal hatch, as if it were heaven's gates. The two looked on in preparation to see something spectacular.

"It's... Empty." Euclaire said out loud, almost unable to register what she was seeing, or rather what she wasn't seeing. "Where the hell is the diamond, you fat pig?!" She gave him a quick kick to the gut.

"Oof! W-we sold it..."

"Sold it?! When?!" The woman was quickly losing her temper. With all she went through to get into this party and to come this far only for this to be the outcome, it had her at her wits' end.

"Our last auction. Its value had gone down significantly as of two years ago. You know, with inflation and all." The man who never seemed to hit puberty let out a nervous laugh. "Please don't be mad."

"So you wasted our time leading us all this way to show us an empty safe?" Spivey too began to feel the rage burning up inside them.

"Well, I was afraid you would shoot me right then and there! Maybe you can have the safe. It might be worth somethi-"

'BANG'

Euclaire, with a look of defeat, closed her eyes and wiped a drip of blood off her face while Spivey's gun still smoked.

"Well, this must suck for you." They said, holstering the gun before pushing the body under the desk in the room. "Coming up empty handed like that. I still get what I want though." They looked over their shoulder, looking directly at the redhead "A nice payout!"

"I hate you... so much."

The two walked together down a snowy street, sometime after the two slipped out of the party. They had not quiet set their differences aside, but after an experience like that, who else would they talk to when it's all said and done?

'So, Spivey, is it?" Euclaire huffed some icy breath out between her crimson-colored lips while covering herself up in a big fur coat that reached her ankles.

"And you are?" Their deep, almost robotic sounding voice asked.

She responded truthfully, however hesitantly, figuring there was no harm in it since they hadn't tried to kill her. "Euclaire Huilotzin... Now I must ask about the mask. What do you have hiding under there?"

Spivey stopped, and so did she, as they looked over. "Are you sure you want to know? It isn't for the faint of heart."

"I think I can handle it."

"It's horribly scarred!"

"Oh, don't be dramatic."

There was a pause between the two while Euclaire patiently waited.

"Fine." Spivey reached up with both hands to break the gasmask's seal around their face as a few puffs of steam were released, and as soon as the mask was off, Euclaire's face changed to a look of surprise before raising an eyebrow with intrigue.

"Oh." Was all that escaped her lips as she smirked.

Monbon

 

[ZackStop]

Making Spirits Bright
​

"She's been in and out of juvenile detention centers for the past couple of years now..." The woman explained the situation in a somber, but sincere tone to the man sitting across from her desk in the small office. There was a window to the left of Ivan with its blinds half open to let in some sun. Placing her hands down on the desk to stack some papers, the middle-aged woman continued. "...that's around the time she lost someone close to her, her 'Sifu', she says. A mentor of some kind, but she doesn't like to talk about it, understandably."

Ivan nodded to signify that he did indeed understand. He could imagine how he would feel if he lost his own mentor at such a young age; surely a negative experience like that would have turned him into a much different person.

"It might be..." He paused as he gazed down to think. "...inappropriate to ask, but what was the cause for her being placed in juvie so frequently?" He leaned back and felt for the stubble along his jaw.

The woman inhaled deeply through her nose, gazing up at the ceiling as she thought. "Well, petty theft, resisting arrest, but it's mostly the fighting. It doesn't matter where we put her; she always manages to find a scrap." She leaned forward and placed her elbows on her desk. "Ilana is not a bad kid, but she has no one. That's why we have this program, so these kids can have a wonderful Christmas."

While the adults were talking, just outside the office, she sat beside a row of empty, cushioned chairs. A teen disinterested in Christmas and cheer and everything that came with it. At the end of the day, it was just the adults telling her what to do again, even if it was 'for her own good.' When she wasn't scrolling through her phone, Ilana was mindlessly picking at the fluffy fur at the wrists of her long green parka. It was perfect for keeping her warm during the time of the year, and also exceptionally made to smuggle some occasional candy bars and other kinds of convenient store goodies she could get her hands on. Not like they were all for her; she had a soft spot for the younger orphans, and seeing smiles on their faces gave her brief moments of happiness in an otherwise miserable existence. She was a pain in the ass. She knew that, but nothing really mattered to her, not anymore.

Ilana sat there on her phone for another few minutes before the door beside her opened, where both Ivan and Mrs. Matthews emerged, and the only thing she could think about was when this would be over.

"Hey Ilana, it's great to see you! This is Ivan." The woman held her hands out close to her body to introduce the large man. "He'll be your chaperone for today. You guys are going to have lots of fun!" she exclaimed while giving a big smile, brightened by her red lipstick. However, despite her effort to sound positive, Ilana wasn't receptive to Mrs. Matthews' cheerful attitude. She only slouched lower in her chair.

"Are you a cop?" Ilana said while staring at her phone, and just before Ivan could open his mouth to say hello.

"Well, no I-"

"You look like a cop." She said flatly, turning her head away from her screen and up at the two standing by the doorway.

Mr. Berg had an awkward smile on his face, as this girl wasn't giving him much of a chance to be friendly. He could only glance back at the director, to which she returned a reassuring grin, as if wishing him luck.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. Merry Christmas!" she said with a small wave before walking back into her office, leaving Ivan with his work cut out for him. He once again looked down at Ilana, hooked on whatever phone game she was playing. He couldn't do much but pass his fingers through his hair and wonder to himself how he'll pull this off.

The two strolled down the sidewalk of a bustling city street, occasionally dodging a pile of snow. It was a cool Christmas morning—not too cold or windy, a pleasant winter climate. Although this was unlike Ilana's energy. On the contrary. She was exceptionally cold, like snow that clumped together and formed more of an unsatisfying slushy ice than a nice fluffy snow. But Ivan wasn't going to accept her cold shoulder for much longer. He was given a very important task, and he was going to see it through.

"So, uh, wonderful weather, don't you think?" Ivan began with the most vanilla conversation starter.

"I guess..." Both her hands were grasping the phone in her face. She didn't so much as look up from it while the small popping sounds from her game could be heard among the sounds of the street. It was impressive that she didn't bump into anyone.

"you're, uh, 15 right?"

"16."

"Oh... Did you... get any presents this year?"

"Yeah."

"What did you get?"

"Stuff."

It was a wonder that she was even responding at all, as dry as the responses were. Ivan combed his bangs out of his face while thinking of a way over this hurdle.

"Err... What is it you're doing there?"

"Nothing."

"This is going nowhere..." Ivan thought to himself while he led her down the street. They came to a stop at the crosswalk as cars blew cold air towards them. "There has to be a way past that cell phone."

"How do you know where you're going with that in your face?" He tried his best not to sound condescending, playing it light so as not to come off like a jerk. She said nothing, though it managed to get her to glance over, but with a glare that gave Ivan a similar reaction you get when touching the metal edges in operation.

"Did you buy it?"

"...no." She looked back at it.

"Someone must have bought it for you, then. How else would you get one like that?" He asked rhetorically.

"I stole it."

Upon hearing this, Ivan nearly lost his balance on the somewhat slick concrete. "You what?!" He couldn't help himself. He had always been on the straight and narrow. He reached out and snatched it up and out of her hands, making her flinch and blink. "I'll hold on to this stolen merchandise for now."

"Hey! Come on, give it back!" She balled up her fists in rage.

"No can do. It is my job to make your day and I can't do that with this phone in the way. Stolen or otherwise."

"You're not my dad, y'know? You can't just lecture me." She scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Oh, don't be like that." Ivan pushed the cellphone into the back pocket of his jeans. He gave her a smile. "Not to worry, I have the whole day planned out. I know exactly what will make you feel better!"

Ilana rolled her eyes and took a breath. "What?"

The next thing she knew, Ivan had brought her to the greatest place on earth. According to him, at least. "There's nothing quite like 10 o'clock mass!" He held his hand out, presenting the grandiose structure that was the local Catholic church. "Ta-dah! Hm? What's with that sour look?"

She was absolutely dumbfounded by what he dragged her all the way out here for. "No way am I going in there." She began walking away with haste, swinging her arms vigorously with each step she took.

"Hey, now hold on!" He caught up in just two strides to pull her back. She cursed his longer legs. "Doesn't the saying go, 'Don't knock it till you try it?'" He gave her a firm pat on the back to lead her up the steps. "Come on, you'll love it! I know you will!"

She groaned deeply, trudging up the stairs. "You expect me to ring a bell and say 'God is good' or something like that?" She said as she clapped her hands twice, drawing parallels to a different sort of religion.

"No, no, nothing like that. Just follow my lead." He said with a chuckle before holding the door open.

Things unfortunately did not go as planned for Ivan. He was cheerfully sitting in the pew, listening to the sermon, only to look over to find Ilana sound asleep, one arm resting on the backrest with a snoring head tilted back. A sigh left him with a facepalm.

The two walked out when mass ended, Ilana rubbing her eye with a yawn, when the two came across Christmas carolers.

Ivan enjoyed the music as the two joined the crowd that was forming. It was all high spirits, but when Ivan looked over at Ilana, She had her fingers firmly placed in her ears and her tongue out. The sour expression on her face once again caused Ivan to sigh and gently facepalm.

They moved on to a quick trip to the zoo, where surely nothing could go wrong. Ivan was enjoying himself, pointing at a flamingo enclosure for Ilana to see, only to find her missing from his side. He quickly looked around, only to spot her at a tiger enclosure, casually standing on top of the rail with shocked onlookers around.

"Mommy, look at that girl!" a kid shouted with excitement.

Ivan let out a yell of surprise and concern. "Ilana, what are you doing?!" He said while rushing over and pulling the wild child down before the zookeepers fussed.

The two left once more, with Ivan having to carry her out under his arm this time while bowing his head apologetically to the workers.

Continuing the montage of mishaps was a third change of scenery; this time they found themselves at a public bakery event making gingerbread houses. One of the most common Christmas traditions where surely nothing could go wrong, Ivan thought. Wearing a nice, clean apron, Ivan painstakingly perfected his house. He was no artist by any means, but he was proud of what he created. Though when he looked over to see Ilana's progress, he was stunned to find her eating the roof rather than putting it together first. Both elbows were planted on the counter, gingerbread in one hand and phone in the other.

Ivan once again sighing and facepalming before snatching the phone away. "No cellphones."

She groaned, rolling her eyes, before moving on to the next activity.

"Wo-oah. Woah- huh!" Ivan gasped and struggled as he did his best to keep his balance. The next place they found themselves now was an outdoor ice skating rink just beside the largest Christmas tree he had ever seen. Only he didn't consider how terrible he was at ice skating, as opposed to the natural, Ilana. "You must- ah- come here often. You look well-practi-iced!" He waved his arms around like a madman, about as graceful on the ice as a tree.

Ilana, on the other hand, effortlessly cut through the ice at an impressive speed, even spinning through the air before sticking the landing on one foot. "First time, actually." The girl said it like that was normal, still on one foot as she leaned forward with perfect balance.

Ivan just stopped to watch in disbelief, having to place his hands on his knees. He felt out of breath just seeing her go. "Okay, let's keep trying..." He mumbled to himself before falling on to his back. "Oof!"

Ilana spun around and let her momentum slow as she came back towards him. "I've never been very good at this..." He said with a defeated expression as he got to one knee.

"I can tell." It was a somewhat snarky response, but her face looked almost strange. Ivan spotted her most genuine smile, albeit a small, faint smile, but one of content.

Ilana started swaying her arms as she began to skate away again. He could have sworn he even heard her humming to herself.

"Wait... Ilana!" He huffed, getting back to his feet. "Don't leave me behind! Oh, great. Here we go." He steadily picked up his pace, trying to catch up.

Once they were done ice skating, Ivan decided it would be a good idea to visit the oversized Christmas tree, a true marvel.

"So how does this work? I just press go?" He asked, fumbling with the girl's stolen device and it's GPS.

"No! Just- agh! Hand me my damn phone back!" She reached for it but Ivan's arm was simply raised too high, he was well over 6 ft. after all.

"No cellphones."

Ilana huffed, fixing to climb the behemoth, but before she could trek up Everest, the lights around the tree lit up while the sun hid behind the city's skyscrapers. This stunned not just her but Ivan as well, as they both just stopped and stared for what felt like hours.

"Wow... nothing quite like that where I'm from." Ivan said out loud, looking over at Ilana, but instead of having a smile on her face, it was replaced with melancholy. He couldn't quite tell what she was feeling. For the majority of the day, she had been mostly without feeling. The man looked down at the GPS, showing that their last minute destination was only a 10 minute walk.

"Where are we going, Ivan? It's getting dark." It was now dusk, and where they had ended up was quiet and unpopulated by people. The only other sounds they heard besides the crunching of snow under foot, were peaceful sounding birds that chirped in the trees, as well as the low cooing of pigeons scattered across the ground.

"Here it is." Ivan stopped and turned. Between two tall, gray brick walls stood a short red torii that signified a shrine off the beaten path. Seeing this left Ilana hesitant and speechless, but she was noticeably trying to find words to speak. "Would you like me to go first?" Ivan asked, breaking the silence.

Once again, she paused, then shook her head. "No." A dry response. She proceeded under the torii and down the path, Ivan close behind, before reaching the worn down shrine. Two steps lay in front of it, which she quickly jogged up, and dropped a few coins into the box as an offering. She rang the bell gently and began to pray in silence.

When she was done, Ilana took a seat on the steps. Feeling like it was the appropriate thing to do, Ivan quietly took a seat on the opposite end of the stairs. The two sat in complete silence until Ilana finally spoke.

"I really miss him." She spoke plainly before glancing over at her new companion.

Ivan took a big inhale through his nose while he tried to think before exhaling just the same. "Your mentor?"

"Sifu..." She quickly corrected him before resting her head on her knees. "We used to come to a shrine a lot like this one."

The two sat in silence for a time, but Ivan had no idea what to say.

"He was all I had..."

"I know." Ivan responded, though feeling somewhat guilty for having been informed of her business. "You're a good kid, Ilana." He gave her a pat on the shoulder, then reached out with her cellphone. "You'll grow into someone great someday."

She refused to cry, only taking in a big sniff as she took her phone back, staring at her reflection in the black screen. "I don't know why I'm even telling you all this," She looked over at Ivan again "but thank you." She stood up and began slowly walking back towards the gate, almost dragging her feet, before Ivan too stood up to take in the tranquil scenery. He left through the gate like Ilana did but did not follow her, as he felt that this was a natural conclusion to their time spent.

"Hey, Ivan." She called out just before he was about to walk in the opposite direction, instead looking over at the young woman. "Merry Christmas." She said it with a faint smile.

"Oh." He nodded, smiling back.

"Merry Christmas."

EldridSmith

 

[Jet]

Narzas never liked Christmas very much. It was a corporate holiday where people spent too much money, got wasted and pretended to care about family. It was a sham so when Christmas came around this year, she didn't do anything special. She sat at home practicing magic in the basement, doing push-ups and simulating combat in her mind. There was a healthy snack and a cat-nap in the middle, but as for Christmas spirit? That didn't exist at all. Her night ended as she slunk down on the couch, a book in her hands as the fireplace crackled in the background. The kind of cozy, normal night seen every day of the year.

But then a sound filled the room. The whoosh of wind and a chilly cold breeze. The lights flickered and a voice echoed from the walls.

"OoOoOoOh." It was like a ghost from a bad movie. "OoOoOoH sPoOky. I am sPoOky."

Narzas reached into the couch and withdrew seventeen knives one after another, building a neat pile on the cushion. Her eyes darted around the room as she looked for a target, because whatever this was, it was uninvited. Johan was away so this wasn't him playing pranks, this was an invasion of some kind, perhaps an assassin with a twisted sense of humor.

"I am sPoOoOoKyyy," the voice said again. "Spooooky ghost man."

"Who are you?" Narzas clenched two knives in her hands, one in each foot and one in her mouth. "Come or I'll drag you out myself."

"Oh calm down will you?" The ghost emerged from the floor and planted his hands on his hips. He was a young man with crazy eyes and a shit eating grin, and his name was Bean. "It's me govna! The ghost of Christmas past! You're a right grinch and I'm here to fix that, kapeesh?"

"Is this some kind of illusion?"

"No-no silly Narzas spider Narzas. I bring the Christmas spirit to those in need, and you need it more than most!"

"This is ridiculous, you're the one who almost killed Johan."

"Bygones misses Spider! Bygones! That's water below the bridge! I've turned over a new leaf and now I work for Santa!"

"Whatever... I'm not doing anything with you."

"Bollocks!" Bean snapped his fingers and suddenly Narzas was a ghost too. They floated in the sky above her home. "You're coming with me or you'll never find your body again!"

"Blackmail?" said Narzas. "That's pathetic."

"No no! I'm encouraging you! Just a wee bit of encouragement from wee little Bean, because you see—

He spun through the air and began to sing,

"Christmaaaaas is the best time of year — the best time of year — the best time of year! With snowflakes, and presents sat below the treeeee. Christmaaaas is a time for cheer, a time for cheer, a time for cheer! Christmaaas is the time for love, and love, is floating in the—

"OKAY!" Narzas clenched her teeth. "Whatever you little mutant, where are we going?"

"Brilliant!" Bean flew towards the moon with Narzas trailing behind him. "There's a man in Zuanshi who's stealing Christmas, and we need your help to stop him!"

Narzas said nothing. It was better to let him explain.

"You might know him! He's a real meanie who's stopped Santa from delivering gifts! That's no bueno so he needs... you know... taking care of!"

"You want me to kill him???"

"No no silly goose, we're ghosts of Christmas spirit. We're more creative than that!" He laughed as they traveled far across the world, coming to a small town where no-one smiled. They were government owned and everyone had a task, centered around an assassin school for orphaned kids. The adults were all in on it. They pretended to be normal and lived a farce for all to see, and the children could never leave. It was a place she knew quite well.

"Wait!" Narzas stopped in her tracks. "What the hell are we doing here? You can't just—

"I can't be here!"

"Why not?" asked Bean. "Afraid of a little revenge?"

"Revenge?" The word had a nice ring to it; many residents deserved a fate worse than death. "On who?"

"The overseer! He's the one stopping all the gifts! This is your present for being good this year!"

"I'm in." Narzas flew past him and soared into town, she knew exactly where she was going. Bean followed along with a smirk on his face, snickering as they flew through a window. Within stood a man covered in green hair. He cackled and coughed and muttered curses to himself, and all around were unwrapped presents. He shoveled them into a fireplace and with each one he burned, a sick smile inched further across his face.

"Into the fires into the flames, the presents are gone and will never be claimed! The kids they laughed but now they cry, and you Santa! Now you know why! I am the grinch the greenest of grinches, destroyer of Gifts and killer of wishes! I dance and preen and—

"Ahhh!" He screamed as a small dog bit his kneecap. "No you runt! Leave me to my work! He shoved away the dog and continued his evil song, burning presents as Narzas watched in horror.

"Is this why I never got a present?"

"Yep," said Bean. "Dastardly innit?"

"He deserves whatever is coming to him." Narzas steeled her resolve and pounded her hands together. This was going to be fun. "What's the plan now? Does Santa care what happens to him."

"Nope, he tried sending elven ops but they got lost on the way. The north pole has never been a premier military force, so you're up chief." Bean produced a briefcase and popped the latches, revealing a dozen devices of varying horror. "Brought these if you're feeling torturous."

"You really are sick," Narzas said before approaching the Grinch, tapping him on the shoulder. "Hello there."

"What?" He swiveled around but then stumbled back in horror, knocking over a table and sprawling on the floor. His dog returned and bit his kneecap once again. "Ahhhh!"

"Who are you that invades my sanctum of hate, who creeps in my room at an hour so late? Who comes in the night and lets my dog bite, and looks as pale as a ghost!"

"Well I am a ghost after all."

"What kind of ghost I wonder?"

"I'm the ghost of Christmas revenge you thieving bastard, and your operation is over for good."

"Oh?" Grinch pushed up from the ground. "How will you do that I wonder?"

"Easy." Narzas drew her knife and lunged forwards, but the Grinch had something up his sleeve.

"Pocket sand!" He screamed as glitter burst from his hand, burying itself in her eyes. He spun around and ran from the room, and all the while Bean laughed.

"What!" Narzas growled. "Is something funny?"

"Fuckin hilarious really, but don't worry about me." Bean looked at the fleeing Grinch and Narzas was soon upon him, chasing him through the house. There were piles of presents high enough to reach the ceiling, and captured elves were chained to the walls. "This is insane," she muttered before finally catching up to him.

"You can't stop the Grinch and can't stop the burnings! The world is harsh the children are learning!"

"You're ruining Christmas for them," she said. "You ruined it for me!

"This has to end!" Narzas tackled him and pressed him against the floor. He struggled against her and grabbed a knife from his belt, swinging back at her stomach. She grabbed his wrist and pinned it down, fighting for the knife as he rolled to his back. He reached up and and grabbed her neck, throttling her as she too grabbed a knife.

"The grinch will take your life," he said. "He will take your life like he took your presents... Narzas."

Her eyes widened and she felt strength running though her veins. Her grip around the knife was strong enough to rip it from his hand, and with a single swipe she buried it in his head.

The Grinch was gone forever.

He slumped over and Bean clapped from down the hallway, winking as she awoke in her living room. Johan was sleeping beside her on the couch; it seemed he arrived at some point during her dream.

"Stupid dream," she said before looking out the window. Her dream left her disoriented and she needed a moment, standing from the couch as she groaned. "What the hell."

"I must be the sick—

Narzas stopped as she noticed something in the window, a fleeting flash of white like the skin of a ghost, and there on the window was a message written in frost.

Enjoy your present govna. ​

rozukitsune

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Santa and 'n Elf
The night air had a certain crispness to it, like the crinkle of wrapping paper or the firm, crisp bite of a fresh apple. The chill could be felt in the marrow of one’s bones, and Jack Frost didn’t nip at the nose…but instead bit down, as if it was trying to steal it from your face. The twinkle of lights could be seen up and down the streets, or what could be taken as lights. Passed down through generations to the point it was little more than electrical wiring wrapped twice and then thrice in electrical tape to keep the lights affixed and prevent electrical burns of any sort.

Tree’s in houses didn’t pass for much, looking more akin to something Charlie Brown would call his own. And in spite of it, Charlie was as cheery as she could be. Though of course, if anyone caught her smiling, she was quick to dismiss the notion and threaten violence if anyone were to suggest the contrary. Though there was individual who was getting a chance to see her smile, if only for the fact it couldn’t be avoided in the moment. Kwame, the proverbial ‘knight in shining armor’ that he was…well he was pretty damn easy to rope into her schemes. “Ahem…Charlie? Is the beard necessary?”

She looked up to him, the giant of a man having been politely convinced to dress up in a red suit lined with white fur, large boots upon his feet and a sack over his back…and of course the biggest beard one could imagine on his face, the likes of which hid his lips, chin, and cheeks. “Eh? Nah, ‘spose not. We could always tell kids that Santa stopped given a shite and went to shave his beard. C’mawn, take it off, let’s crush some dreams tonight.”

Kwame flinched at the cutting sarcasm, a grumbled apology for it. Charlie, for her part, had even gone out of her way to get dressed up…and truly, it was the sort of attire that she would threaten the worst kind of murder upon anyone who’d have suggested it otherwise. A little green dress and candycane stockings and a green cap on her head, false elf ears to hide her own. “Er…Charlie?” She looked up, fussing with a bell on her sleeve while she looked Kwame’s ‘uniform’ over thoroughly. “Aye? Don’t tell me yer gettin’ cold feet there, Santa?”

Kwame paused, trying to figure out how to pose the question without getting threatened with some sort of creative method of bodily harm…Charlie had a skill for it, nay an art he’d call it. He didn’t routinely feel fear, but something about her bordered on feral and brilliant in the most…terrifying way. “No, no. No second thoughts. I was going to ask…do you do this every Christmas?”

“Eh, nah. Usually I just leave the presents outside the orphanage and ditch, savvy? But…y’know, Christmas spirit and all that. Felt like goin’ the extra yard for once…” She paused, glancing out the window with a thoughtful hum. “Right…and this isn’t just an excuse to dress me up, then?” She snapped her attention towards him, a loud laugh as she slapped him on the back. “Oh, nah, this is definitely an excuse to dress ya up, lad. But it’s for a good cause, tis a good cause!”

With little further encouragement she coaxed him out into the snow covered streets, starlight all but gone to light pollution…thus, the brightest stars were all that were seen overhead. She could be heard humming to herself, the faintest smile on her lips. Despite the absolute chill in the air and how her clothes were ill-fit for such weather…she didn’t seem to shudder, shiver, or bemoan it. “Charlie-” “Oi what now?!” “Forgive me, I do not mean to pester…Why do you love Christmas? You seem a bit like a-” “A grinch? Izzat it?” “..Not the words I’d have chosen, but yes?”

Charlie gave a nod, seemingly unoffended by the thought process. “Aye, fair enough. It’s the one time’a year when people ain’t total shit-heads, you follow? Plus…I ain’t the sort to go woe-ways-me, but my sister and I didn’t always have a great time growin’ up. But Christmas I always had a chance to save up a little more, pull a few more odd jobs, and get her somethin’. I never asked for something back, just seein’ her smile brighten up the room was enough. Not a single childlike soul should go without a happy memory this time of year, ya get me? So in recent years, I make one’a these donations to orphanages in the easily forgotten spots. Kids deserve to have somethin’ nice. Adults can piss off though, they can get their own shite.”

“I see. That’s…surprisingly kind of you.” “Yeah, yeah, shove it up yer stockin’. Tell anyone and I’ll turn ya into a jack-in-the-box, Kwame.” Despite the threat, he couldn’t help but give a slight grin through the large beard. “I see. Well…we’re almost there, then. What did you say your name was tonight-” “Charity.” “...Charity?” “Aye, ya heard me.” “...A bit on the noise, don’t you think?”

“Oi! It’s hard to come up with a fuckin’ Christmas themed name starting with a C, H, and A! Bite me!” “Of course, my apologies, Charity,” Kwame replied with a chuckle, Charlie rolling her eyes. “Right ‘fat-man’-” “I am not fat-” “Yer fuckin’ santa, you’re fat tonight. We’re here.” “Please tell me you will not call me that in front of children.” “Gimme a lil’ credit here mate! Yer Santa in front of the kids! Now kick in the blasted door!” “I’m sorry, kick in-” “Aye! I said it! Kick in the blasted door! I can’t shove ya’ down a chimney…and don’t you gimme that fuckin’ look, the matron knows we’re showin’ up. Police aren’t gonna come beat the daylights out of us for this, promise.”

Kwame stared at her for a moment before taking a deep breath. This was for children he reminded himself. Briefly, he wondered if this was all one big elaborate prank being played by ‘Charity’ over there…but no, something about her smile was as far from malicious as he had ever seen. Steeling his nerves, and preparing to make a total fool of himself, the door was kicked in, a loud “Ho-ho-ho!” filling the main room. There was a deafening silence that hung in the air for a moment before the dozens of eyes staring at him seemed to grasp the situation. “SANTA!” came a chorus of cheers from girls and boys, none older than ten and still with a spark of innocent magic in their souls. Kwame couldn’t help but smile, feeling Charlie’s hand on his back and shoving him further inside. “Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas! Alright-oi oi! No shovin’, no shovin’! Santa’s got somethin’ for everyone now!”

There, Charlie and Kwame spent the better part of the evening playing their part for the holidays. Gifts were given, songs were sang, and Kwame was fed an overabundance of cookies and milk to the point he swore that if he never had either again, it would still be far too soon.
Jet​

 

[Lost Echo]

Bean and Vixie
Sometimes her father was too nice. How could she explain that this was such a bad idea. He’d offered, knowing the boy was an orphan and, of course, like the little chaos monster he was, he agreed. Vivian was terrified. What did you even get a maniac? Would he laugh if she found a straightjacket? Her parents would never understand. And in a way, Vivian hoped they actually never did. Maybe he’d act well behaved. She knew he could act, he could do it. But what would make him?

This was a disaster. The house was decorated to the nines, and everytime Vixie tried to make it a little less perfect, her mother would just put it back. “What is wrong with you today?” The school teacher asked, censor in her voice. “Your friend is coming, and you just keep adding to my workload.”

“I don’t think he has any friends.” Muttered Vixie as she stressed further, trying to keep still while Philos-o-fur twisted around her ankles.

“Vivian Van Winkle! I’ve never heard such cruel words from you! This boy saved your life! What he lacks is a family and that’s just what we’re going to give him this holiday season!”

Viv drooped. If she’d been merged, her ears would have fallen against her head. Shoulders down, she tried to explain. Well, what she could “What if it’s too much? I mean he might have everything now but…” What if he took it as if they were rubbing it in? You have those? Nihal had blurted out while drunk, refering to her parents.

She could tell what her mom was thinking. I don’t have time for this. Still, because her mom was the best, she wrapped Apa around her shoulders. “We’re going to include him the best we can. He’ll be fine. He’s a sweet kid; he’ll understand.” A timer rang out, “Oh the ham!” And then the woman was gone.

Her father wrapped her in his characteristic bear hug. “You and your mother worry too much, little spark. Treat this like every other Christmas Eve, and it’ll go fine.” But it wasn't like every other Christmas Eve. All of those didn't include someone who found murder a game.

There was a knock on the door. He was right on time. Was that a good sign? After a nudge from her father, she went to the door, hesitating for a moment. This was it. The moment of truth. The next few hours might end up with all of them killed. Boiled alive or burned slowly from their toes up, with an impossible to put out fire. Apa tightened around her, sensing her unease, but not the source.

Vixie opened the door to Bean. He was dressed in a suit with a Christmas tie, his hair combed. If it weren’t for his characteristic smirk, she’d have thought he’d sent a replacement for this farce. “Hard to open door is it?” He asked the smirk widening at her confusion. “Took ya a minute to do it.”

Oh! He must have sensed her just standing there, freaking out. Her blush went up to her ears, but she managed to stutter out, “I--I’m glad you made it.”

“Are ya?” Was that rhetorical? He kept going nonetheless, “I’m sure it’ll be fun.” He walked past her, looking around “Nice place. Plenty of stuff. Did you know real Christmas trees are fire hazards?” Turning, he stopped abruptly.

Oh no. He’d seen it. On their mantle were their familiars. Plush animals wrapped in ribbon and holly. They’d bought one of the mantis shrimp souvenirs to include him. They’d made various paraphernalia after he’d won the games. While he was winning actually. It had seemed like a good idea, but now, how did she explain it? “Um, well,” Again Vixie stumbled over her words, but he didn’t wait for her.

“Always surprising me, ain’t cha?” The words were quiet, likely not for her.

Vixie was saved from speaking by her dad. “Bean! It’s great to have you.” He walked over and picked the slender boy up in a bear hug. Choking, she ran over, Phil yelping in alarm!

But Bean just started laughing, patting the large man hard enough to make him wince. “Oh yeah, this’ll be fun.” Stepping back, he broke the hug, and smirked at Vixie. He obviously had enjoyed her reaction enough to not kill him. Be interesting. She reminded herself. Do that and they’ll make it through this alive.

Her mother came out, unwrapping her apron. Apa slithered off of Vivian, who missed the steadying weight immediately, and went to join her father’s familiar in what the family thought of as their chair. “It’s a pleasure to see you again Bean. Come, dinner’s ready.”

Somehow Bean was all ma’ams and smiles. They sat down, and her father, who truly could talk to anyone, started to engage the boy. Vivian was starting to relax. Obviously the centurion had decided to be polite. They could survive this. But suddenly, to her left, she sensed it. Heat. Heat that would burn down to the bone. “Stop!” Her head jerked up and she cast a hand out, sucking the heat from the fork her father was about to pick up.

Silence rang out. “Vivian?” Her mother asked, censor once more in her voice.

“It was…it was too hot.”

The frown told her she wasn’t believed. Her father hissed, “Well now it’s too cold. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were ice, little spark.” He rubbed the utensil between his palms. “If we’re goldilocks-ing this, it’s your mom that’s supposed to be too cold, not me.”

“But it was--” Her mother’s glare was enough to stop her protests, muttering, “Sorry.” Bean looked over his glass at her and smirked. She glared back.

From then on, she had to focus. Bean would randomly heat something, and in order to prevent a fire or her parents being burned, she’d have to cool the temperature. She hadn’t even realized she could do that before. As time passed, with Bean still schmoozing her parents, there were more and more close calls. He’d heat the food on its way to their mouths, somehow keeping the silverware cool as normal.

Her mother could tell something was going on. Her sharp eyes, even without merging, were trained on an increasingly silent and stressed Vivian. But she was earth, like her husband and couldn’t sense the temperature changes without Apa.

Her father noticed nothing it seemed. He ate steadily, laughing at the antics of some centurion named Johan.

Dinner ended with relief for Vixie. She was twitchy, worried more when Bean waited to fuck with her, than when he did two at once. Phil had snuck into her lap, and only her tight grip in his fur kept her sane.

Her mother encouraged her to take Bean to the living room, while they cleaned up. And Vixie took that opportunity with both hands. Grabbing his, she marched out of the dining room. Once they were alone, she immediately whirled on him. “What were you thinking! What if they got hurt?”

Bean just looked at her, “What’s a game with no risk?”

“A fun one!” She snapped back. Beverly, her father’s familiar growled softly, reminding Vixie she wasn’t completely alone. “We’re okay Bev, Bean’s just…not used to this.” She kept her gaze on the centurion’s. “You’ll see with Charades. Just please don’t burn the house down?”

“I’ll be on my best behavior, luv, Scout’s honor!” He held up his middle finger, then saluted with it.

Vixie rolled her eyes, turning to walk away. She went to the cabinet, pulling out 2 jars. One of sand and the other clay. “For charades, we use our elements, shaping them into what the prompt says.” She opened the jars, but left them where they were on the floor. Then she pulled out a cloth bag, reaching in and pulling out a slip of paper. “You can be as accurate or esoteric as you want. Just do the word. So if I have dragonfly,” She held up the paper for him to see the written word, “I might not just do this,” With a wave of her hand, she formed the basic shape of a dragonfly. “I might instead try for…” Here she had to concentrate, but formed a clear caricature of a dragon, then had it fly around the room, its little wings flapping. “A dragon, flying."

After the explanation, her parents came in, sitting on the couch. “Ready to get trounced Bean? My wife is a beast at this.” Her dad asked good naturedly. “Usually we go in order for ages, so Viv’ll be first. She’ll show you how it’s done.”

Again, Vixie reached into the bag. She pulled out a slip of paper, read it, then set it to the side, face down. Carefully, she made a plate of fire, keeping the flames controlled well enough to keep it flat. Then several discs, almost like squished round coals appeared, stacking on each other. “Cookies!” Her father called out. Finally, she picked one up with her hand, and brought it up to her mouth, miming a bite. Then she let the flames dissipate, pointing at the older man, “Yep!”

Bean seemed to enjoy the game, starting simple, with a Cheshire cat, fading until only its smile was left, for smile. For amusement park, he transformed the entire room into a fair, the burning ferris wheel competing with the tree. Eventually Viv started to relax. It was fun. She was surprised at how much better her control had gotten, even if she could do nothing on Bean’s scale. Not without losing control.

Bean ended up winning. He could almost predict the intent in the magic, answering before the image was realized. Vivian wasn’t too surprised he could do it with her fire, but even her parent’s various dirt sculptures seemed to be anticipated. Still, it wasn’t too much of a surprise when Bean tried to control her fire, distorting her scenes. After the second time, Sybil spoke mildly, “No cheating Mr. Marino.” And even though he scowled, he grew more subtle in his sabotage.

After the game, it was growing dark. All there was left to do was for each of them to open a present. Vivian practically bounced over to the tree, pulling out 4 presents and passing them out to the individuals. She laughed at Bean’s surprised look but simply sat down in an armchair. “You first Bean” She said, half wanting the wait to be over. Her nerves were coming back the longer he just stared at it.

Suddenly, the package burst into flames, and ignoring her parents’ gasps, Vixie, by instinct now, reached a hand out, trying to save the gift inside. She didn’t need to worry. Bean was just being dramatic. He was laughing at her reaction up until the framed painting was revealed. It was of a mantis shrimp. The detail in exquisite oils.

“I tried to use as many different colors as I could. I’m sure it’ll be more interesting with those eyes of yours.”

They watched as his eyes changed, bulging out slightly in an eerie way. He said not a word as he looked at the painting, then unmerged his familiar skittering over his shoulder. “This is good.” He sounded tight, before he started laugh.

Jet

 

[Lost Echo]

Kilderkin and Anya
CW: Use of a corpse for experimental purposes
Anya walked into the room and stopped. This ship had looked normal, not that she was one with experience, but this? It was like a morgue. Dead body included. She stared at the man, then looked at Kilderkin. “What the hell did you want to teach me?” Autopsies were asking too much, even from a friend as weird as Kilderkin.

The sailor waved a hand at the corpse. “Stop being so squeamish, he doesn’t even smell yet.”

“Don’t you think I’ve seen enough dead people? I think I’ve seen enough.” The arena affected its survivors in many ways, but Anya felt hers made sense. No more dead people. She looked back down at the man.


“Do you want to learn or not?” Kilderkin seemed unbothered as she knelt down beside the body.


Since she’d shed her persona, they’d become something like friends. So when the blonde had offered lessons, Anya might not have expected something normal like sailing, but dead people were not in her guesses. “How’s he gonna teach me anything?”


“He’s the lesson.” Her already serious face focused and she outstretched an arm above it. It was only this preparation that kept Anya from screaming as the corpse sat up. Like a puppet, it raised its arm in a strange salute, before it dropped down and Kilderkin caught the weight of the body, lowering it back down easily.


“With your electricity, you can do more than that. Make it sit up, maybe even walk if you’re good enough.” The spy looked excited at the challenge.


Anya had to admit. She loved experimenting with electricity. It was like a drug, feeling the buzz of energy threatening to escape, keeping it under her control. She looked at the man again. “You didn’t kill him just for this, right?”


“I didn’t even kill him.”

She probably had a minion do it. Anya ignored the fact that her friend hadn’t answered her question and nodded. Apparently Peirama was more in her blood than she realized. “Let’s do this.”


They started small. Kilderkin got her in some meditation pose and had her focus on the flow of power to her finger. It took her a bit to quiet down enough to ignore the corpse, but soon she could focus on the pulse in her finger. It was hard to separate the energy from the rest of her body, but after a moment, she nodded. “Yeah, I think I got it.” She knew how much electricity it took to move her finger.


She hesitated to touch the man, but she took his hand in hers, laying it on her upturned left palm, so her right could trace his nerves. Then she gasped, dropping it. “Something’s moving in there!”


“It’s just blood--I’m keeping it cycling, it slows the decay. Thus the smell.”


Oh. Right. Of course Kilderkin had experience like that. Picking up his hand once more, she got in position, running a finger along the rough skin, until she reached the tip.


It was good the man had 10 fingers. Burning out the nerve was much easier than Anya would have imagined. They went through the first five so quickly, she was worried they’d have to try toes. But finally, on finger number eight, she got movement. She felt her excitement rise, then gasped realizing her magic was rising with it. POP.


Now he smelled. Charred flesh of an exploded finger covered her. Kilderkin was quick enough to put up a shield of water, keeping herself clean. “Ew.” Even knowing she deserved it--it was such a rookie mistake!--Anya pulled her shirt away from her body, grimacing at the mess.


“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you a shirt. Keep going! I saw movement.” Kilderkin almost sounded like Kildi: her excitement was like that of a kid.


“Hold on, give me a second.” Thankful that the blood wasn’t coming out further, she went to the finger beside the space. Carefully, she felt for the nerve, sending the smallest of sparks down its path. Again, the finger spasmed. At Kilderkin’s cheer, she smiled, but kept at it. Again and again it twitched, but she couldn’t get it to move like Kilderkin could with blood.


“Wait a second! You’re focusing only on the tip, aren’t you?” The sailor didn’t wait for her nod, “The muscles for the fingers are in the palm. Try there.”


Anya took a moment to be embarrassed by her ignorance, before casting it off. She ran her finger along the palm, sending out pulses of electricity almost like echolocation. Then finally, finally a finger curled up. In fact, she managed to make all of them curl, even the stump left behind.


“Good good!” Kilderkin sounded like a pleased teacher. "It’ll be a bit before you’re precise enough to move it as you want. Start with the wrist now.”


From there, getting the body to move was easy. The sailor had spoken true, all she could do was tighten a muscle, then release it, but after causing the corpse to sit up once more, Kilderkin pointed out, “That’d freak out anyone enough to distract them, while you get away.”

“Now let’s do it together!” Anya suggested. “You can keep the body up, right? Maybe I can get the leg muscles to move enough to simulate walking.”

It was a bit of a farce. Standing, with blood pooling on its shoulders, the corpse sagged within Kilderkin’s grasp. Without any help from Anya, the water mage could lift and move it forward and backward, but when the electrical mage added her sparks, the legs began to shift and shuffle, in an awkward imitation of any movie zombie. “Now that’ll send them running. Especially at dark.”

Kilderkin let the body sag until it collapsed on the floor. “Thank you for the lesson.” Anya started to sound unsure again, seeming to remember this body was once a person.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get someone to clean up. What about that shirt and some dinner?”

“I’d love to.”

Fred Colon

 

[ManofManyRoles]

It was a beautiful day outside with a blanket of snow covering the ground. Nay, not a blanket, it was an entire comforter of snow, a duvet of frost! The sun overhead had not a cloud to obscure it from all to see, and yet such was the chill in the air that all it did to the snow was add a beautiful sparkle and twinkle to it as it turned ice crystals into shimmering gems. The large estate was comfortably kept behind a fence and gate all the way in the most upscale and nice end of the city. However, there was no creature stirring, not even a mouse. For indeed, the house staff had been released to celebrate the Holiday today, and that included Felix. Well, released was a strong word…more aptly he had been forced to take the Holiday at much insistance from the young mistress of the estate.

A large estate as beautiful could be, straight from a picture book, was empty. The two owners of the estate were away on business as they often were, which meant there was only one occupant inside. Seated downstairs on the couch in only the coziest flannel pyjama’s and gnawing at a piece of peanut brittle was Yua, Hallmark films playing on the T.V early in the morning while she glanced through her phone and the feed of everyone’s life’s cropping up on the social media scroll. She had just finished her “breakfast” when there came a knock at the door. Attention snapped up as she slowly padded her way towards the front door. “Hello?” It was an ucncertain call that earned no refrain.

She supposed maybe it was a courier who’d left a package at the door, or someone wanting to play “ding dong ditch”, maybe? The door opened up, only to reveal a pair of legs that travelled upwards to a stack of boxes that obscured the head and torso of the figure. “Uh…can I help you-” she started.

“Yeah, yeah! C’mon, gimme a hand here, won’t you?” Yua paused at the voice, grabbing a few of the boxes and nearly dropping them in the process as she saw who it was. “Mischa!? What’re you doing here!?” She of course knew a friendly face, but she figured she’d have been at home rather than…well, here. “What do you think I’m doing!? Celebrating Christmas! Can I come in, it’s freezin’ out here!” “Oh, right! Right, yes, please come in!”

Yua scurried out of the way with a few Christmas presents in hand, the door shut and locked up tight behind the red-head. “So, your folks are out of town, right?” “I mean…yeah, per usual-” “Gotcha, gotcha. So your butler and them are gone too then, yeah?” Yua found this line of questioning odd, but didn’t find reason to lie. “I mean…of course, no one should celebrate Christmas alone-” “Glad you agree! And that’s why I’m here!” “You’re…what?”

Yua blue screened at that. “I am here. To spend Christmas. With my friend,” stated Mischa in smaller sentences that time. “My friend. Is spending Christmas. With me,” she finished, once again in smaller bite sized thoughts. Yua stared at her before she awkwardly cleared her throat. “You uh…don’t need to do that. I’m kinda used to the whole-” “Spending Christmas alone thing, yeah, I gathered. Well say goodbye to that habit, we’re gonna have a blast!”

Yua didn’t get a chance to object or protest, Mischa grabbing her prosthetic hand and tugging her along towards the kitchen, the Christmas presents suddenly forgotten where they had been set in the foyer. “Where are we going!?” “Pft, it’s your house! You know where your kitchen is right? We’re making cookies! C’mon, I know this killer sugar cookie recipe!” Mischa’s positivity and energy was practically infectious…Yua’s apprehension of breaking her routine was quickly fading away into the background as the gravitational pull of ‘Planet Mischa’ yanked her in.

Baking cookies was probably not the most idea breakfast, but she had just been snacking on peanut brittle so what did she know? And thankfully the baking did go well, even if it meant the kitchen looked like it had a wild bull charge through it. Clean up took a bit, but no sooner had they finished was the oven done and cookies pulled out to cool.

And while the cookies were cooling, Mischa suggested they use that time to open the presents she’d brought in for her friend. Yua didn’t want for much, and thus never knew what to ask for. What she did get however was a few gardening tools and seeds for her personal garden, and a big fluffy coat that was perfect for winter weather!

And with a big fluffy coat that wa perfect for winter weather, Mischa argued, the only way to test it was to go have a snowball fight! The cookies were forgotten in the kitchen, and the torn open packages in the living area while the two girls went outside to pelt eachother with snowballs.

With snowballs came chill, of course, and no big fluffy coat could keep out all that chill. Thus, Mischa argued, that they should go inside and warm up by the fire with a cup of cocoa. And so the two did just that, Mischa using the remote to flip through Christmas movies on the T.V. “After all,” she said, “You can’t just sit around doing nothing! There’s gotta be a good Christmas film on right now.” Despite the fact one could very much do absolutely nothing while they sat around and enjoy it.

The two watched a few Christmas films before the umpteenth Hallmark movie put them into a light doze. When Mischa awoke, it was already late afternoon, and she was shaking Yua awake. “C’mon, sleepyhead! You can’t sleep your Christmas away! Cookies should be done now!” Yua blinked…cookies? Wait…they’d made those hours ago!

In spite of this, she did relent to the decorating of Christmas sugar cookies without issue, listening to Mischa ramble on about this or that ever so steadily. Her routine had been so thoroughly demolished she would never get back to that level of perfect solitude she’d accomplished earlier today…though perhaps that wasn’t so bad for today? After all, not every day was Christmas. And Mischa’s impromptu game of ‘If you give a mouse a cookie’, for indeed that’s what it had been (intentionally or not) had made this a most memorable Christmas to stand out in memory. “So, when are you going home, Mishca?” “Eh? Oh, like…after midnight?” “What!? Why!?” The girl sported a wide grin, as if what she was about to say was genius…”Well, Christmas doesn’t end till the 26th, so right after midnight!”

Yua balked at her at this ‘genius’ thought process before giving a small sigh, a slight laugh escaping her. “Oh…I guess…that makes sense-” “Yeah, it’s basic logic!” “Just let me order the ride home for you? I can cover expenses, but it’s supposed to snow at least a few more inches tonight and I don’t want you caught in a storm.” “Ah…yeah suppose that makes sense.” "...You forgot about the weather, didn't you." "Just a bit, yeah."
Jet ​

 

[Jet]

Kwame stood backstage wearing full plate armor, three swords and The Art of War (a really old book) under his arm. He had camo facepaint and was bouncing on his toes, reviewing combat situations in his head. There was never enough preparation for conflict. Never enough scenarios he could replay and never enough planning. The least he could do was be prepared for a few situations, even if this was a christmas bash in the countryside.

"When an enemy makes a mistake," he began. "Never interrupt them."

"Feign weakness to lure them into an attack, then strike when the time is—

"Kwame!" Renee busted through the wall beside him; pieces of brick bounced from his armor.

"Did you?" Kwame blinked a few times. "How did you?"

"Don't worry about it!" There was an awkward pause before she said, "You're taking this way too seriously! It's supposed to be fun you know?"

"Erm." Kwame cleared his throat. "I was tasked with keeping a secure perimeter, no enemies in, no brawls and no political debates."

"Oh come on! You're being a buzzkill, all this talk of war and stuff..." Her train of thought shifted as she said, "Anyways, how bout you backup dance for me?"

"Surely you jest Lady Renee, I was born without the gift of rhythm and dance. I'm afraid to fall hither and snap your spine by accident, or shatter the drumset to smithereens."

"Oh please," Renee said. "I've been working out with Charlie everyday, something in those lolipops is making me really strong, and she's been feeding me nails! Nails can you believe it!"

"Well I don't believe that's healthy."

"Oh sure it is! Just watch this." Renee ran through the wall once again, then emerged from another spot in the same way. Now there were three gaping holes in the wall.

"You know..." Kwame raised his brow. "Maybe I shouldn't question your regiment — with provocation my spine may be the one in danger."

"Exactly! Now come on, we've got a song to perform." Renee grabbed his hand and dragged him onstage — quite literally dragged him. His feet skidded on the ground as she pulled him like a tow truck. He found himself under bright red and green lights, a christmas tree twinkled beside him, and Bean pranced around in an elf costume. The entire crowd was composed of the whole GGN cast. There were centurions beside Vincent at the back wall, each wearing ugly Christmas sweaters. Johan and Narzas drank at a table together, Anya and Ren looked like a couple, but they were too nervous to do anything about it, Zulan argued politics with Kilderkin and Charlie gave Renee a huge double thumbs up.

Evaline manned the drums at the back of the stage, and Renee wore snug christmas clothes with pinstripe pants, a red coat and Santa hat.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Renee picked up her microphone. "Welcome to the annual GGN christmas bash, where all characters are welcome even if you're a really mean asshole!"

Irina toasted her glass and Acacius, the terrorist from the games, clapped his hands like a dolphin.

"We have a special guest up here tonight!" Renee twirled around and pointed at Kwame. "Kwame! Our newest backup dancer!"

"Let's give it up for Kwame everyone, he's gonna rock this town tonight!" The drums kicked in and suddenly she was singing, the crowd twisted and turned and danced along with her, and Kwame stumbled back and forth tripping on his feet. He felt like a baby giraffe when he danced; every step was more unsure than the last. He could barely focus on the beat as Renee sang—

​

Renee was a marvelous singer and dancer as well, every note was perfect and each step precise. The microphone was dented from her superhuman strength, but somehow it survived through the song. Kwame however, was spinning with dizziness before tumbling from the stage, knocking over Bean in the process. The giant man crashed into a table and stars swam through his vision, duckies went around his head like planets around a star, and his antics drew a wave of laughter from the crowd.

But Renee had sympathy instead of mockery. In the same way she struggled to fight when she arrived on Xysma, Kwame was struggling now. She rushed down to the crowd and clasped his armored hand. "They're laughing with you, not at you! You're really not a bad dancer."

Her eyes softened a little. "But sometimes we need to start small and build ourselves up, little by little until we're big as a house!" She effortlessly pulled him to his feet. "How about this, for christmas I'll give you dance lessons, and you can teach me stuff from that—

"Whatever that book is called, but in a way that won't put me to sleep."

"I believe..." Kwame shook his dizziness away. "I believe that is a fair exchange Lady Renee."

"Can you just call me Renee, seriously, Lady makes me feel like an old woman."

"Yes at once my—

He bit on his tongue. "Renee."

"Fantastic! Now about those baby steps, for the next song just do two of them!" She stepped forward once and then stepped back, and then did the same with her other foot. "See! The two step is easy as pie."

"Yes... yes that looks easy," he said, but despite the confidence of his words, a drop of sweat trickled down his face.

rozukitsune

 

[Lost Echo]

Brynwyr and Esther
There once was a witch who didn’t give a fuck.

“Must you be so crude? This is for the historical record.”
“Then it should be accurate, shouldn’t it?”​

Again, witch, no fucks. Except of course, she wasn’t a witch: people are just idiots. Magic didn’t exist, it was just science that hadn’t been explained.

“Aren’t unicorns--”
“Seriously?”​

Anyway, she was living her life as a doctor, which is the science term for healer, because she had to eat. And she was not a gardener. Or a botanist.

Still that day, the 32nd of Mai, in the 1509th year of our, or well your lord, when she heard the knock on the door, she gave her usual response. “Go away.”

“It’s for the king.”

“I don’t particularly care.”

“It’s his daughter.” Now here the witch, who I should have already told you was Esther, paused. She may have been called a witch, but she wasn’t heartless and she knew enough about the princess to know her age, and six wasn’t an age to be left outside. Even if she didn’t sound like she was six.

So, in a move that she still regrets

“Hey!”. ​

In the most regrettable move she’s ever made, she opened the door.

“You’re not her.” That much was very obvious. For it was a young woman, spinster by her age and reputation (not that Esther could judge at 32) standing there. Not a child.

It should be noted that she was also not a witch, for all idiots called her one. Nor was she a scientist. She was just a woman who for some reason

“Honor. Loyalty”
​

Some stupid reason, wanted to be a knight. An desire as unnatural to the men of the court as thinking was. Due to his wife’s urging, the king had allowed her to train, probably hoping she’d make a fool of herself. Instead, she made one of him,

“You can’t put that!”
“Will you stop reading over my shoulder?”
“Not if you’re putting crap like this!”​

~Though there was no one else to report it, a scuffle ensued, as the knight (sorry, not sorry for the spoiler) retrieved the quill, and sat upon the non-witch to continue the narrative. ~​

Brynwyr Protheroe, having accomplished all of the training required, was given a task.

“You misspelled impossible.”
“We did it it.”
“He was expecting you to fail.”​

A rather difficult task. To grace his daughter with a braid of unicorn hair, for her lifelong protection. The woman took her task with grace, and immediately set out.

Her first stop was to the witch doctor, who had just opened the door.

“I am Brynwyr, on a quest for the king’s daughter.”

Esther’s unwelcoming expression did not change. “I didn’t even know she was kidnapped.”

For a moment, the blonde was concerned, before she realized the misunderstanding. “She is not. I am to get unicorn hairs to braid for her safety.”

The witch doctor was pleased to do her duty.

“Oh come on, at least be accurate.”
“I’m trying to do your legacy a favor.”
“My science notes are my legacy. This is bullshit.”​

~Again there was an undignified scuffle that no one else witnessed. After resorting to biting, Esther once more wielded the quill.~​

“Right. Because a braid’s going to stop an arrow or sword.” Esther held up a hand before she could respond. “I’m a doctor. What makes you think I have a unicorn?”

“You go into the forests alone, and commune with the animals, do you not?”

Outright snorting, she waved a hand, “Is that what they’re calling it? I study animals, yes. But they have to be real, not mythical.”

“There are too many tales of unicorns for them not to be real.”

“Yet none of those story-tellers even have a hair.”

Brynwyr tightened her jaw. “You will help me.”

“You know what, here.” Turning, Esther left her at the door (the rude knight just followed her in) and grabbed a pair of shears. Lifting them to her hair, she cut off a few of the strangely colored strands and offered them over. “Say they’re from the mane of a unicorn and you’ll be fine.”

But Brynwyr balked at this inspired

“Dishonorable”​

tactic. “I am no fraud!” She declared fiercely, “And for all your strange ways, the villagers say you are not either.”

“Really, I didn’t even know they liked me. Maybe I should care.”

“They say you are the one who can control animals. You’ve protected crops.”

“WOAH there. That’d be fraud if I claimed that. I just figured out their patterns, and made the people adjust. There was no controlling of animals.”

But Brynwyr was undeterred and used her strongest persuasion. “I will pay you a year’s worth of pay in advance. For 6 months of searching.”

And like mentioned before, Esther did need to eat. That would provide her 6 months of not needing to deal with people. And that was enough to convince her to go on the fool’s errand. “You’ll leave me alone after 6 months?”

“Or as soon as we find one.”

And with a nod, Esther agreed.

“You’re not going to mention you already knew where to go?”
“It’s not like I’d seen one before, just rumors from travelers. And the horn. Besides, I don’t want to spoil the story early.”​

Arcanist

 

[ManofManyRoles]

“I don’t suppose,” a voice started to say politely, “that you are willing to explain what exactly we are looking for?” Maverick glanced over his shoulder towards Elriel as they wandered the thrift mall silently. It was Christmas Eve, and it hardly screamed ‘festive spirit’ in any regard. Indeed, if anything, it smelled of mothballs and looked rather homely. It wasn’t even a nice thrift store that was run by a charity or a local church. No, it was a run-down sort of spot in the spot of town Elriel actually made a point to stay out of…honestly, he was pretty sure half of this was salvaged from a landfill. And yet…this was the twelfth one he’d been dragged to today by his friend, who pointedly avoided much explanation. “We are looking for something of importance,” was his answer each time, and it was the one he offered now.

Elriel was a patient and kind soul, but everyone’s patience had a certain limit. Especially when it was in a store like this and the sun was preparing to depart from the evening sky to be replaced by moon and stars. Second hand clothes and old electronics no one cared for anymore, chipped porcelain and what he was almost certain was someone’s cremation urn. Why in God’s name did Mav have him running to all these stores? “If you would tell me,” he started again, “I could assist you.”

“I am looking for a teddy bear.” It was an offhanded statement and as ambiguous as ever…and Elriel felt his eye twitch ever so slightly. “All of this is for a toy?” Maverick stopped as he turned about to face in that near empty stall, here before an isle of old yarn and sewing supplies. “Yes. It’s Christmastime, you give toys during Christmas.” “Yes, I suppose you do. However, couldn’t you just…order it, or get a different one? We’ve been out all day.”

He paused at the question, as if it had never dawned on him. “No. I can’t. It’s a one of a kind bear. It is white, like a polar bear, with button eyes and a blue nose. It’s got a build-a-bear logo on the foot.” Elriel deflated a bi at that. “Maverick. I understand that you’re trying to do something nice for someone important no doubt…but if the bear’s not been at any of the nice shops we’ve been to so far, I don’t think it’ll be here. Besides, can’t you just…get another build-a-bear?”

Maverick offered no response, turning about face and starting for the toy aisle. “No,” was the simple reply, “This one smells like blueberries.” This was it. Elriel was certain of it. Maverick had always been an odd fellow, and people whispered such behind his back. And now, he was sure, Mav had finally gone fully off the deep end. But, for some reason, he felt like he had to follow along. So they searched the toy aisle up and down, twice, thrice…four times. By the fifth time, he was certain Mav had gone so far off the deep end he’d never recover.

“Maverick, it’s not here-” “I found it.” Calmly as ever he pulled the bear from the back of a shelf, hidden far in the back behind so many things it was like someone intentionally hid it. It was an ugly thing, an off sort of white with a torn ear and a button eye barely hanging on. Its smile almost seemed pained. And then, to Elriel’s shock, Maverick lifted it to his nose and took a deep inhale of the tattered thing. “It smells like blueberries,” he stated simply…as if there was great wisdom to be found there. “...Maverick, we spent all day looking for this bear, when you could have bout thirty in the time we spent.” “But,” he offered, “They would not smell like blueberries.”

If Elriel had less composure as a person, he’d have screamed. Dejectedly, he followed Maverick to the front counter and watched in shock as the price tallied up to a total of two hundred dollars. “...You can’t seriously-” and yet, he watched as Maverick began to pull the money from his wallet. He paid the cashier, and started for the door. At this point, Elriel was invested to see what sort of reason he had for such madness to overtake him.

“What is so special about this bear!? And don’t tell me it smells like blueberries, nor that it’s one of a kind!” Finally, as if Elriel had offered the correct set of questions to obtain esoteric information, Maverick answered him as they started the way back to his house. “This model of bear stopped being sold about two decades ago. They are very rare, and cost a college tuition in some cases. I got this for a steal. This one, however, is the only one that smells like blueberries.”

“...And why does it smell like blueberries, then, if none other does?” Maverick looked over to him, and then back ahead. “Because Ace dumped an entire bottle of blueberry perfume on it. My parents held a yard sale when my family moved when I was younger. We sold appliances, kitchenware, old furniture, and toys no one played with anymore. However…this bear should not have been sold. It was a mistake, and my father sold it without really looking at what he was selling.” “...I see.” “My sister Ace loved her bear more than she loved me at the time, I think. She named him Berry Bearington. I found him, by chance, on a facebook post from a community I’m in. Someone saw it, joked about how absolutely ugly it looked, and shoved it in the back of a shelf. I knew it was in a thrift store, but I didn’t know which one, just that it was a local one. I don’t know who had it before, or where it’s been…it’ll have to be washed, I”m sure. But it’ll still smell like blueberries.”

Elriel stared at him for a long while. He knew Mavericks sister, of course. She was the epitome of an athlete and had played just about every sport in school, and had participated in several local tournaments…a car accident as of last month, however, had landed her in a wheelchair. “You drug me around all day, in the cold to find this bear…for your sister?” “I have spent my entire Christmas savings on this. Because-” “It’s a one of a kind bear…that smells like blueberries.” “...She’s been very down since the accident.”

Maverick gave a simple nod at that. “...You’re an odd man, mister Booker.” “So I have been told,” Mav replied politely. “However…you have a good heart.” “That,” he replied, “I have not often been told…Before I forget,” Maverick paused as he reached into his pocket, offering a small wrapped box towards Elriel, “Merry Christmas. Thank you for helping me with my shopping trip, today.” Elriel paused, unwrapping the gift and opening it up. Inside was a nice watch…not a Rolex, of course, but it was a very nice watch by all measure. “I hope you like it. You often seem very intent to sticking to a schedule and routine.” “...You’re quite thoughtful, Maverick. I thought you said the bear was your entire Christmas savings though?” “It was. This, however, was not my Christmas savings.” At that, Maverick left the subject and the two travelled back to his home in relative silence. Elriel was certain, now, that Maverick was undeniably insane. An oddball of the highest measure…but now, he was also certain, that his heart was often in the most proper of places.

Goliath​

 

[Goliath]

Elriel & Adrian at the Nutcracker
​

Christmas time in Valencia was a magical experience. From the already lavish, extravagant city came decorations that were unlike anywhere else in the world. There were hundreds of light displays that took weeks to set up, along with a massive tree that sat in the courtyard of the middle ring and was adorned with sparkling ornaments. When walking down any street there were many pop-up stalls that sold delicious Christmas treats such as hot cocoa, fresh gingerbread, and sugar cookies. While a common attraction was the outdoor ice skating rink that was full of smiling patrons nightly. It was operated by an older couple, who were water and ice users, who maintained the venue.

Valencia was home to the fine arts, meaning that there were many Christmas plays nightly, but one in particular was always sold out. The Nutcracker. Elriel Whitlock had taken over the role of coordinating the play that he’d participated in since he was a young child. This year he had cast all the members himself and ran every rehearsal to make sure it was perfect. But despite it being a lot of work for the noble, it was worth it. And now it was finally going to pay off. Opening night. — But what he never would have expected was within the backstage crew there would be a red-headed male who would inevitably save his show.

The large curtain rose for the first scene and everyone was in high spirits. There wasn’t an empty seat in the entire large auditorium, and all the proceeds from tonight were going to a charity that provided toys and other items to children in need. In Elriel’s opinion everything was going perfectly — until one of the female leads, who was practicing backstage before her scene, fell out of her pirouette and hurt her foot. She couldn’t continue to dance in the performance which left Elriel scrambling. They had no backup, at least not for her role. He had cast one, but she got upset that she wasn’t the lead and quit.

Which now meant Elriel was left needing someone who could perform her role in the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. He rubbed his temples for an answer until his eyes fell upon a man who had never auditioned but had signed up to be on the stage crew. He had never missed a rehearsal and Elriel had seen how the male had watched their practices while they were designing different backdrops for the show. Plus .. he had good lines. It could work. “Adrian,” Elriel approached the rough man with his long blades attached to his hips, currently adding final touches to the castle backdrop. “I need you to dance the fairy role for me tonight.”

The scoff that came from his lips wasn’t very reassuring but Elriel had to persist. He wasn’t joking. “I know that it’s not ideal. But I don’t want to have to refund all these people. This is a fundraiser for the children after all.” Adrian glared at him, standing from where he’d been working on one of the props. “Well. That sucks. But I can’t dance. Find someone else.” The redhead snapped, half-drowned out from the show that was advancing. Every song pushing them closer to curtain call adding a hint of desperation to the noble's voice. “Well, I think you can!! Dancing isn’t all that different than fighting a monster. Just for this one night. I know you know it! I saw how you watched us.”

Elriel sighed, realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere with this conversation. They would just have to skip the number despite it being arguably one of the most famous. He turned to walk off when he felt the hand grab his bicep firmly, pretty sure it was going to bruise. “It’s only for the kids you hear me. And we never talk about this again. Just bring me a mask or something.” Adrian growled. But Elriel just nodded back with a soft smile. He pulled him to the nearby changing room, throwing him a costume that should fit while also matching the scene, not wanting to push his luck with the original costume or a tutu. “I will meet you on stage for the last part. The room will be empty for a few minutes so please warm up. Good luck and break a leg.”

Elriel stood in the wing, watching the show and offering words of encouragement to his team as new dancers went out to perform their numbers. But he still didn’t see Adrian. He checked his watch for the hundredth time knowing that it was almost time. He had only a small bit of hope to begin with that the male would follow through, and as it got closer that feeling only shrunk. The lights went down and he was about to call the sound crew to skip the song when he saw someone walk out from the opposite wing to take position.

Elriel was the only one in the auditorium to know who was behind the mask as the lights came back up, quiet murmurs able to be heard from the crowd about who the person was because the program listed a woman’s name. But they quickly stopped talking as soon as the music started and Adrian did the first entrechat. His form was pretty good, his arms extended in a way that complemented the flow of the movements while he watched the piqué turn into an arabesque. It would be a lie to say Elriel didn’t wonder where he had learned to dance like this. But he knew better than to ever ask. Adrian might actually kill him.

Being a pas de deux, the ending was a duet between the fairy and the prince which was his own role tonight. Elriel glided out onto the center stage to join him, his hand firmly placed on Adrian’s back. As he looked out from the stage into the lights any thoughts he had been judging melted away only able to focus on the moment. Truth be told the pair had undeniable synergy despite never practicing together, no one being any the wiser, minus the rest of the crew who was also puzzled trying to figure out who it was between the successful lifts and jumps that made the crowd gasp in awe.

When they completed the number the cheering was louder than he had ever heard it before. Elriel was smiling and he felt like he could almost see Adrian doing so as well, though it might have just been his imagination as they bowed. “Good job,” he whispered. The moment they stepped behind the curtains the redhead quickly hurried off to change while Elriel blocked the view and attention as best he could, wanting to let him sneak away. Adrian managed to avoid any questions and maintained his identity as the masked dancer, later seeing him once again working on the backdrop with his blades on his hips once more, but to Elriel he had been the true spirit of Christmas that year.

Jet (Adrian)

 

[ManofManyRoles]

“That’s right chuck! Based off what we’re seeing this year it’s not just a white Christmas, it’s the whitest one we’ve had in years! School’s projected to be closed for more than a few days, so those kids are sure to enjoy the days off from school! Now we go over to Barbara with the daily news!” Felix glanced up from his tea cup as he sat as one of the few patrons of this little shop in the mall, watching the T.V play on about the daily events. It was odd, having a Christmas to himself. No master or mistress of the house to tend to, no young miss to wait on…what in God’s name did he do with himself? Finishing his tea and leaving a generous tip on the table he stood up and made his way out of the shop.

“-yes mom, I’ll be home soon! I just have to pick up a few things! I love you! Bye!” No sooner did Vixie hang up the phone was there a soft oof as she ran face first into someone’s side as they walked out of a shop…she should know better thann to get so distracted that she’s running into people! Before she could begin to apologize at any length she looked up and caught sight of a familiar sight. “...Mr. Abdon?” “Ah, hello there Miss Viv…you have my apologies, I appear to have been in your way.” No, she was supposed to be the one apologizing, she ran into him she thought! She looked this way, and then that…someone was missing. “Where’s Yua?” Felix gave a knowing little smile at that question. Anyone who knew Felix, of course, knew Yua…if only for the fact the butler was glued to her at any time. One could always anticipate that where the heiress was, so too was the gentleman like butler.

“She has released me for Christmas. I am on a ‘day off’, as it were.” “Oh, that’s so nice of her! So what are you doing today? Are you spending time with your family?” “Ah, I am afraid not. I have no wife to go home to, nor children I should buy gifts for.” Vixie’s cheeks blushed in embarrassment as she realized she just made the situation awkward, albeit unintentionally. Felix, however, appeared unbothered. “And what of yourself, Miss Viv? I would think you would be home with your family.” “Oh…I mean, yes, I’ll be back home by this evening! I was trying to get a last minute gift for my dad. I want to get him something, but I didn’t get a chance to do it yet.”

Felix gave a thoughtful nod at that, a pause of silence that Vixie felt was growing increasingly awkward. What was there to talk about now? Felix just said he didn’t have anyone to spend Christmas with or anyone to buy gifts for or- “I have naught much else to do today, I’ve done everything I’d wanted to do today,” he said…all he’d wanted to do was get a tea from a new shop. Quite adventurous was Felix, indeed. “So if you should like, I can assist you in your expedition and get you back home. Unless, of course, your mother is doing so.”

In almost any other case, one should never accept offers of help from people that were not their family or a very close friend. However, Felix was as close to a friend as Vixie could call an adult his age. After all, not many people ran into a burning building to help you get out of it! Vixie shuddered as she remembered that unfortunate event at the local rollerblading center…it was still burned out last she’d checked, and they still hadn’t found the person responsible. That, however, was neither here nor there. Felix was as trustworthy as someone could come. Plus… “I uh…no, Mom didn’t give me a lift. I took a taxi. Are you sure you’re okay with helping me, though?” Internally, Vixie was relieved at the concept. She didn’t have to worry about paying extra out of pocket for a taxi if he helped, or having to lug the large box she’d be getting all by herself.

“I am certain, I do not offer things I am not certain of. After all, tis the season, is it not? Do lead on, Miss Viv.” She flashed a smile, a slight nod of her head as she beckoned him on. The shop she wanted to go to was dead center of the mall, and with it being a rather sizeable mall…well, it was a walk. “So you uhm…absolutely no plans for your Christmas, Mr. Abdon?” “None,” he replied politely, “but Miss Smith insists I take the time off.” “...What do you do on Christmas, usually?” “I work,” he replied simply.

Vixie couldn’t help but feel a bit bad as she considered that, even if the older gentleman seemed fine with it. A Christmas with nowhere to go? No one to see, no one to get a gift for, just working? “Don’t you have any friends you can spend the day with?” Felix gave a somewhat sad smile, a slight shake of his head. “No, I’m afraid not. Some of my best friends I shan’t ever see again. Others are very much out of the country, and I do not travel near enough to invade their Christmas in such a way.”

It was an awkward silence as Vixie was out of things to discuss on the subject. Felix was the one who broke the silence, this time. “What are you getting your father, if you don’t mind me asking?” “Hm? Oh! There’s this figure sculpture he’s been wanting. I think it’s kind of silly, but it’s this huge grizzly bear…I always joke it looks like it’s waving hello when we see it when we pass through. Dad’s always like antique stuff, so I thought it’d be something nice to get him! I just didn’t have a chance to get it between school and home life…so this is my last shot for it.”

“I think that sounds rather nice, then. Let’s go get him his gift then, why don’t we?” Once they finally arrived to the antique shop, Vixie had absolutely no issue leading the way to where it was. Honestly it was a rather hefty figure, the size of a medium dog when it sat upright (or perhaps just a bit larger) and weighed like a sack of bricks. It was the sort of thing Vixie would have struggled and puffed along to move and get into a taxi, so she really was thankful she ran into Felix…literally. However, to her astonishment they had raised the price by a hundred dollars, and her heart sank. “I can’t afford it now…”

Felix quirked a brow, glancing between Vixie and the bear. “No? And why is that?” “The price is up by a hundred dollars…this is crazy...” Felix gave a hum in thought. He straightened his back out, a loud snap crackle pop in the most awful of ways that made him keel over with a wince. “Oh my,” he grumbled.

Vixie’s attention immediately went over to Felix, eyes wide as she rushed to his side, the older man resting a hand on her hip as it was the closest thing he could reach. “Mr. Abdon, what happened!?” “I’m just an old man, these sort of things happen…give me but a moment.” He stood upright after a moment with a wince, offering her a polite smile. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” “Oh yes, I’m quite certain…Miss Viv, it appears your pocket is trying to escape you.” “Huh?”

Vixie reached down to her pockets and pat herself down…something was falling out of her pocket. She grabbed it and lifted it up, finding a crisp hundred dollar bill. She squinted at it like she was going crazy, her attention slooowly going up to Felix. “Mr. Abdon…where did this come from?” Felix, for his part, gave a polite shrug of his shoulders. “I would imagine your pocket.” “Mr. Abdon, I can’t accept this…” “Well, I suppose that would be a fair complaint if I had given it to you. Forgive me for being bold in saying so, but perhaps you simply miscounted this morning?”

Vixie stared at him. She wasn’t an idiot, nor did she think he took her as one. She was good with her money, she always double-checked everything. This was his money. But when did he even slip it in? The question was quickly answered with the realization he probably faked hurting himself as a distraction to slip it into her pocket. But she couldn’t prove that, it’s not like she wrote her name on her money, and the old man certainly wasn’t going to take it back. Eventually, she relented to his good will, and the large figure was purchased and lugged back to his car. As they started down the road with Vixie giving directions this way and that, finally she spoke up again.

“Thank you, Mr. Abdon. I appreciate it.” “Of course. It’d be rather frightful to walk home in such snow.” That wasn’t what she was thanking him for…but something about the way his lips twitched into a slight smile before he went stoic again. He knew what she was actually thanking him for. Vixie spent most of her time on the ride home texting someone, though it wasn’t Felix’s place to read over her shoulder of course. Once they arrived Felix paused in the drive way, glancing over to her. “I wish you a very Merry Christmas, Miss Viv.” “And you as well Mr. Abdon! But…you said you were going to help me carry it?”

Felix paused before he gave a slight nod, forgetting himself. “Of course. It was terribly incorrect of myself to follow through.” “Great, thank you so much! Let me run ahead and unlock the door for you!” With that, she was off in a dash, slipping on the ice at least once but not falling…and then she was through the front door. Felix was slow going up to the home, large package in his hands before he saw the door open. Except, it wasn’t Vixie standing there, but instead her mother. “Hello, ma’am. Forgive me, I am just helping your young miss get this package inside.” “Of course! Thank you so much for helping her out. I’ll be honest, I don’t even know what she bought my husband…that looks quite heavy though.” “Oh it’s not terribly so, I have carried worse.”

As Felix stepped through the threshold and set the package down he started back towards the door, his dutied fulfilled. However, he heard a voice again, “Mr. Abdon?” He turned about, looking towards Vixie and her mother now. “You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?” “Oh, I do apologize, but I should suppose not. I don’t wish to impose on you and your household by any measure.” “You’re not imposing!” Vixie objected politely, “You said it yourself. You don’t have any plans today, so you’re invited to dinner.” “...Mis Viv, that is very kind of you, however this is an awful thing to just spring on your mother.” “Oh, hush. She told me the entire thing while you were driving her home. She also told me you’re difficult and stubborn. Which is fine, because so am I. Mr. Abdon, you are welcome in my house for a Christmas dinner. We’ll have too much food anyways! Beyond that, consider it a very late thanks for all the help you’ve given me daughter today, as well as with that whole rollerblading rink incident…”

Felix gave a slight sigh, though he did smile. “Very well then. Thank you. How may I help you in the kitchen?” “You’re not,” Vixie interrupted, “You’re helping me wrap this present! And then you’re sitting down and resting.” Felix couldn’t help but chuckle as he heard Vixie grumble something about ‘old man faking his back injury’, though he offered no further objections. He had been roped into an eventful Christmas, when he had no events to plan for. Perhaps, though, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Lost Echo​