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vestigelogs2020-12-10 04:06 am
vestigemods) wrote in vestigelogs2020-12-10 04:06 am
(december catch-all) LEGGY KRAMPUS IS COMING TO TOWN
DECEMBER CATCH-ALL
► YOU WANT SNOW? WE GOT SNOW
- To all who've endured the last couple of dismal months, congratulations - you've broken through the windy rains of October and damp, depressing ones of November to an inexplicable peace falling over the containment zone. Untouched snow covers the ground, a veritable winter wonderland. It's almost idyllic, even if not quite in the same way that the early weeks of summer may have been. The air is brisk and chilly, but at least you can see the sun again. In fact, the heat of it on your skin is almost enough to make up for the chill, at least when the sun is at its peak.
Make snowmen! Have a snowball fight! Perhaps even skate on the frozen lake - Foodland seems to be stocking brand new sets of ice skates in various sizes, their colors obtuse enough to make sure you'll be spotted even if it starts to snow. And... consider showing a little pity on the local wildlife if they come a-scritching at your door? If you're cold, they're cold, et cetera.
BABY IT'S COLD OUTSIDE
- But December has a little bit more misfortune in store than just a little bit of nippy weather. On the 16th + 17th, you might start to feel... a little strange. Maybe you've come inside from a rousing snowball war to park by the fire, but instead of warming up, you just... keep getting colder. In fact, your temperature keeps on dropping no matter what you try - blankets, a hot bath, none of it seems to do more than slow down the speed at which you're cooling.
Or maybe you're not cold at all... but oh, you're starting to wish you were. Because your temperature only keeps rising, like a hot flash from hell no matter what you do to cool down, with sweat beading on your forehead and dripping down your neck. You may even find yourself desperate enough to strip down to your underclothes and lie in the snow, if only for some sort of relief. Don't worry, though - whether you're too hot or too cold, it'll go away on its own eventually. Let's hope it's before the hypothermia gets too bad or you go delirious with fever.
Then, throughout the couple of days before Christmas, the snow kicks up to a flurry. According to the children's books in Foodland, this is a telltale sign that a magical gift-bearing man called Santa Claus is on his way. But kids' books never do tell the full story, do they?
True to form, there's a pitter-patter up on the rooftop. Is it reindeer paws? Since when do reindeer have paws, anyway? Then the fire in your fireplace, if lit, goes out with a magical puff of air... but what comes down your chimney is quite a bit worse than the stories. His Naughty List is filled with those who have yet to satisfy the elder gods with their horrible death, and rather than bringing gifts and cheer, this particular Santa has come to collect.
Two clawed hands wrap around each side of the fireplace, eyes pale as the snow, the beard around his gaping mouth tinged with the red of blood. But there are more hands now, so many hands, so many too-long arms, peeling himself from your fireplace to attack. He moves quickly, almost uncannily so, with an agility one might not expect from one with such gangly arm-legs. His hands are sharply clawed, perfect for swiping and drawing blood - but that's not what he's trying to do. No, his goal is to drag those who've been Naughty back up the chimney from whence he came, hauling them off through the flurry of snow and disappearing from sight if you try to pursue. But it's fine. Being choked to death by Leggy Krampus's obscenely long prehensile tongue isn't... the worst death, at least?
► MOD NOTES
- This is the December Catch-All Log, for any action top-levels throughout the month. Large gatherings (parties, meetings, etc) are still encouraged to post their own logs for organizational purposes!
- Refer to the bottom half of the November + December Bulletin for any December-specific info to potentially include in your prompt, as well as more specifics regarding the events.
- Because this is a catch-all for everywhere + all month, try to remember to label your top-levels with identifying information like the IC date and location of each prompt (whether in the subject or in the prompt title within the comment). Also consider mentioning if any of your prompts are event prompts!
- December's specific resources can be found in the Not-Bulletin.
- Any questions can be directed to this top-level or, for a quicker response, to Trace on discord/plurk.
Naminé | OTA
[ Naminé doesn't make it off of her porch before the view outside her house draws her up short, bringing her originally brisk pace to a stuttering stop. The door swings shut - loudly - behind her, but the sound only makes her shoulders flinch, the rest of her too preoccupied with gaping at the blanket of white covering everything to actually glance backward.
The way she looks at it, you'd think she'd never seen snow before. ]
B. || LAKE SHORE | EARLY DECEMBER
[ It seems that since this place previously held the distinction of being her primary location for drawing in the sand, the snow hasn't entirely put a stop to Naminé's creative endeavors here. The shore might be hidden under all the crisp mounds of white, but she's acquainted enough with at least some of the policies of winter to know that there are entertainment options available to her even now.
Not that she's been exceptionally successful with getting the snow to clump together sufficiently to form anything out of it yet. The evidence of that is clear, as a few failed attempts are sitting here and there like sad little hills of uncooperative slush. She did endeavor once to scrape some sort of pattern into the frost, which looked promising enough - but made her hands awfully cold. (Too cold, in fact, to go on with the idea.) By now she's finally gotten around to figuring out how to roll a ball of snow into a slightly larger ball of snow, and is dutifully pushing it along near the frozen surface of the lake with all the concentration that any art project deserves. ]
C. || ANYWHERE OUTSIDE | DECEMBER 16TH
[ Breath clouding in the air, Naminé regards the stick she holds in front of her in one slim hand with a strangely intense concentration. The fact that she's shivering doesn't help much, since both it and her arm keep wiggling, but one can't say that she isn't trying. Her other hand hovers next to it, fingers splayed carefully as though she were about to grasp it. She doesn't, however - and instead they curl in, almost as if in anticipation.
This isn't her first try. Everything so far has created nothing more than disappointing sparks at best, and not one of them has taken. So when she attempts one last time to cast Fire, she's fully expecting to be as resounding a failure as before. Her fingers flick out just the way they did the last time, she forces the magic out the same as last time, and yet - maybe it's the interference of some vaguely remembered recollection finally finding the appropriate place in her mind, but this time, the result is different.
Unfortunately, it's different in a much bigger way than anticipated. A short burst of flame appears from her opened palm, instantly engulfing the small piece of wood. This would be excellent news if not for the fact that it lights all of the stick, including the part still clutched in her gloved hand. Her startled squeak is simultaneous with said stick being immediately released from her hold, whereupon it falls into the snow with an accusatory hiss of steam. The smoldering glove follows in short order, her eyes round as she pulls it off and drops it as expediently as she can manage. Almost disbelievingly, she regards the fallen items in the moments thereafter as they settle, slowly cooling on the ground.
As preoccupied as she is, she's wholly unaware of the gradually growing flame still clinging to the end of her scarf. Someone should probably give her a heads up about that one. ]
D. || WILDCARD
[ Choose your own adventure. ]
C
He's already making his way over to Naminé, because she's a familiar face that he hasn't really had a chance to talk to beyond the network yet, when she sets her glove and scarf on fire. Which is, obviously, very alarming, especially when she doesn't seem to notice.
He's still far enough away that he has to shout. ]
Naminé! Your scarf!
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The girl goes rigid, startled into stillness as she attempts to distance herself from the previous moment's internal panic. The mental block doesn't last long before her head turns, body angling with it quickly enough that her the scarf whips out and back in again, still lightly aflame as she looks around for the source of the noise. ]
-- Rhys?
[ She blurts the name out as soon as she spots him and her mind provides it - which takes a precious few seconds, as she's never spoken the moniker aloud in her current recollections - and follows it up with a blink, baffled by his urgency. The flicker of her smoldering scarf catching the edge of her vision answers that question soon enough, however, as his other words click into place. From that point (and her startled noise of exclamation) on, the girl busies herself with hurriedly attempting to unwind the scarf from her neck - which makes for a rather harrowing attempt to watch, what with her shaky fingers. ]
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something
Or maybe she manages to get the scarf off before he gets there. Time will tell. ]
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By the time he gets close, she's finally made some headway. The remaining end of the fabric finally slides free as he draws near and she lets the whole thing fall into the snow to join her other hapless possessions. The icy ground isn't enough to put it out immediately now that the fire's had more opportunity to spread, which isn't exactly a welcome development, but-- he might be just in time to help her stomp on it.
Somebody's got to, anyway, because it's not showing any sign of stopping. ]
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Are you okay? You didn't get burned?
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No, I don't think so. It doesn't feel like--
[ When she looks down in an automatic attempt to check, though, she can see a growing hint of redness on the hand that was initially holding the stick. Startled, she blinks at it. ]
... Oh. That's strange...!
[ Except for the part where, you know, she set her glove on fire just now. ]
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[ Are you okay??? ]
You don't feel it?
[ That's more than a little disturbing. ]
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No, not exactly. I just feel-- cold.
[ Which might explain why she couldn't recognize the heat from the less visibly obvious flame before. She's shivering slightly when she lifts the opposite hand to press a finger against the burn - which makes her hiss quietly, arm drawing back from it immediately. ]
But it still hurts.
[ When she touches it, anyway. Is that a good sign or a bad one...? ]
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[ He pauses for a moment, and makes a face. ]
You're feeling it too, huh?
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... Mm.
[ Her eyelids flutter in a blink at his expression, only for his words to lift her brows with that 'too'. It takes her a second to grasp what he means, but when she does it prompts a subtle tilt of her head and more obvious concern. ]
Can... you not get warm either?
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[ Wait, does that sound weird? Whatever, it's out now. ]
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I know exactly what you mean. I had the same problem with the soup I ate for breakfast. I thought maybe I just hadn't heated it long enough.
[ But apparently not. Well, this is an unpleasant development. Face still scrunched, she turns her eyes toward the ground in thought only to realize her articles of clothing are waiting in the snow. She bends to pick up the glove, inspecting it; it's singed black over a considerable portion of the surface. Maybe wearable in a pinch, but-- she glances up, as if remembering something. ]
Does it hurt? Your tongue, that is.
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[ So it's just pretty irritating, really. ]
I guess you need to get a new pair of gloves.
[ Even if they feel constantly cold, he assumes that being covered properly means you won't get frostbite that easily. Hopefully. ]
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I'm sorry.
[ Tucking the damaged gloves into her pocket, she reaches for the scarf next; one end is charred and ugly. Exhaling a rueful sigh, she stands with the knit object in hand, then glances up to offer him the shadow of a wry smile at his comment. ]
Yeah. 'Guess I do. [ A little more quietly, ] I was just at Foodland the other day, too.
[ She takes her time about stuffing the scarf into her other pocket, looking as though she's quietly considering something. Presently, ]
Hey... Rhys? Does-- your world have magic in it?
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Err ... That depends how you define magic.
[ Because they don't really call it that, but Sirens can do some really freaky stuff. ]
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Um-- [ She says, because it takes her a second to remind herself that she was asking for a good cause (and that it'll seem weirder if she doesn't finish the thought). Shifting in place slightly, uncertainly, ] Well... how do you define it?
[ Because being cagey about it definitely won't make him think she's even stranger, right? Still, it's probably(?) a valid question. ]
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[ Somehow he didn't expect to have to give an answer to his own question. ]
I guess ... abilities and things that we can't really explain yet?
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So it's the stuff you don't understand...?
[ That'd certainly apply to her own type of magic. Even she doesn't know why she can do what she can do. ]
In that case - what do you think about it? [ People do tend to fear that which they can't comprehend, after all. Hypothetically speaking, ] If someone wanted to cast a spell on you, would it make you nervous?
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[ And he's really unsure about having it himself, since he never had magic his whole life. He thinks he still has his magic from Asgard, because the others did, but he hasn't actually tried. Makes him uneasy. ]
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I guess that could be pretty dangerous. But... what if they were someone you knew was your friend?
[ It hardly even matters whether or not that applies in this case; now she's just curious about the root of this issue itself. ]
Or-- if it was to help you with something really important?
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[ Yvette's betrayal still hurts, and while Jack was never really his friend, that one really sucked too. It seems now like the people he keeps closest are fully on his side, but how can he know that for certain?
The answer is he can't. ]
But I'm not anti-magic or anything like that.
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There are a lot of cruel people out there, [ she has to agree, because she's met several of them. One of her hands tucks under her opposite elbow, then is mirrored by the other. (It doesn't really help with either of the types of chill she's feeling.) ] I can see why that would be hard for you, especially considering where we are.
[ Would she have known his feelings already if she hadn't forgotten so much? Naminé isn't certain of that either, but it isn't worth fretting over when there's nothing to be done about it. Now she can't help but wonder, though, if he's suspicious of her as well. She wouldn't blame him, truthfully. Perking a little bit at his last statement, Naminé seems to find that part at least a fraction more comforting. ]
No? [ Mentally, she chalks him up on a 'maybe' list somewhere, with a little, 'talk about it first' next to his name. ] That's probably for the best. Around here, I think everyone needs all the advantages they can get. [ A beat, then, ] Have you never thought about learning magic for yourself?
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I supposedly had magic in Asgard but ... I never actually learned how to use it. I don't know, it felt ... weird?
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Not even a little bit?
[ As much as that sounds like a waste, she's more than a small amount familiar with how terrifying it can feel to know you're of harming others with magic, even when you don't mean to. But-- you know, that was just her experience with it, and she's not about to assume it was the same for him. Still, she hasn't got the presence of mind to hide her sympathy or her curiosity as she inquires with tilted head, ]
Weird... how?
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