Holiday Traditions, Part two

[Ayshela]

Ayshela hurried toward the Conservatory, nervously checking over her notes. While she'd participated in several things, this was not her normal arena for hostessing events but Salinye was unavoidably detained and someone needed to get things going, so...

 

oh dear.

 

Well...

 

Ayshela took a deep breath to steady herself, smiled at the reassuring nods of her friends, and began:

 

 

This event is a follow-up to Part One, over in the Assembly Room, so if you haven't done that yet i recommend you start there.

 

For THIS event, you will be taking the holiday tradition you've already chosen and implementing it for the holiday season, now. So, if your tradition was caroling, you might post about waking Wyvern at the crack of midnight for some late-night christmas caroling, or something of the sort.

 

You've chosen your significant *in character* tradition. Now, how does that play out here and now?

 

The holidays are upon us, let's deck the halls!

 

(25 geld for your in character post)

[Annael]

Opening her eyes slowly, Annael let out a sigh of relief to see that she was back in one piece, so to speek, in the Pen Keep. Not knowing how long she would last before she was sucked back into nothingness, Annael hiked her skirt up around her knees and took off at a dead run, the little blue butterfly clutched tightly to her ear as her curls bounced crazily around her head. Soon, two other little butterflies had found her and were following her as fast as they could. A surprised Tanny blinked as Annael sprinted past.

 

"Hey, I found Annael! Wait, she's gone again...what the heck?"

 

Tanny scratched her head as Annael disappeared around a corner. Annael skidded to a stop before a door and took a deep breath before slowly opening it and sneaking inside. Pausing with one foot in the air, Annael let her eyes adjust to the darkness before venturing forth into the room. Sneaking over to the bed, Annael cupped one of the two floating butterflies in her hand and placed it on the pillow. Blowing softly on its wings, Annael smiled as the little butterfly started to glow.

 

"There now, Falcon won't squish you when he comes in to sleep. Treat him well little one."

 

Quickly sliding out of the room, she stopped to hold onto the wall as things started to blur before her eyes. Not yet she thought. I still have one more butterfly to deliver! Concentrating as hard as she could to stay in the Keep, Annael ran as quickly as she could to the Banquet room, hoping to find the last recipient of a butterfly there. Pushing open the door to the room, people stopped their conversation to stare at Annael who was literally flickering in and out. Seeing Gyrfalcon sitting down with Daryl, Annael pushed her way towards them. Holding out her hand with a brownish-red butterfly on her palm, she reached towards Daryl and faded right before their eyes. The butterfly hovered in the air infront of Daryl before drifting over to land on his head. Looking at Gyrfalcon with a question in his eyes, he gestured at the butterfly.

 

"That's her way of saying Merry Christmas. You've got you're own little pet now Daryl." Gyrfalcon said with a laugh.

 

"What's a werefox supposed to do with a butterfly??" Daryl asked and gave a little laugh as it crawled down his forehead to rest on his nose. Crossing his eyes to stare at it where it sat, then blinking to uncross his eyes, he sighed.

 

"Merry Christmas Annael."

[Wyvern]

Wyvern continues sitting at his "Traditional Almost Dragonic Brand Last Minute Presents™ Booth," twiddling his claws innocently and whistling to the tune of "Wyvern the Blue Nosed Elder." The greedy lizard rearranges the items on the tabletop to make sure that people notice them better, placing the ancient jarred candy cane powder in front of the moldy ruins of past gingerbread houses to strengthen the looks of their textures. Grumbling as people ignore the fine line of age-old products available at the booth, he underlines the word "Traditional" on his sign twice and proceeds to ring a little Christmas bell, which promptly collapses due to its aged decrepitude. The reptilian Elder curses to himself as he reaches down to pick up the remains of the bell, only to perk up as he notices Morgane standing in front of his booth holding a huge lollipop.

 

"Well, hello there little girl" hisses Wyvern sinisterly, seating himself back in his position at the front of the product stand and grinning. "Searching for a last minute gift for mommy and daddy? Want some Almost Dragonic Brand Aged Candy Cane Powder™ to compliment that lolly?"

 

"Nuh uh" mutters Morgane, shaking her head vigorously and sucking on her lolly. "Watcha doin?"

 

"Why, selling Traditional Almost Dragonic Brand Last Minute Presents™ of course." Wyvern winks. "I'm hoping these tattered old Christmas stockings will be a big hit. After all, you never know when someone might get their stocking stuffed with geld, and it could give a whole new meaning to the word 'holy.'"

 

"Um" Morgane stops sucking on her lolly for a moment and stares. "Who's gonna buy'em if Christmas was yesterday? I gotta lolly, see?"

 

Wyvern raises a scaly claw to respond, only to consider Morgane's point for a moment and scratch his scaly chin in contemplation. The reptilian vendor takes out a quill as Morgane waves and skips off to another part of the Carnival, turning towards his sign and scrawling:

 

"98% off Post-Christmas Sale! Never too late to buy a last minute present for New Years!"

 

After he's written this, the overgrown lizard grins and sits back in his seat, taking out a few tangled slinkies for the table and waiting for the profits to start rolling in.

 

;-)

[Gwaihir]

That day when Gwaihir woke up, he was in bed--in doors--and thus he naturally expected a mammoth headache, so the first thing he did when he woke up was grab his head and look puzzled. Where was his headache? It was foolish to sleep inside anyway, because the hangover it caused was always terrible, but there had been some party last night that he couldn't get away from so he'd slept in doors.

Only the Cabbages could remove his headaches when he got them and even for them it took two of them at work constantly for the duration of the headache. The Cabbages! That was it. Today was Christmas! That's what the party last night had been about and today was a perfect day to go see the Wiggly Cabbages.

 

He practically jumped out of bed at the thought and remarkably enough even managed not to trip over his nightgown, a long odd looking shirt that his grandfather had put away as too old-fashioned to wear. Funny the way some things have a way of staying in the family. Finding his way to his feet, Gwaihir looked for the nearest way out. The door would have occured to most of us, but when he looked out his window in the keep, he noticed that it bordered on the garden, so he crawled right out. Even a clumsy elf should be somewhat light of foot, so it was about half way down (when he would have had about a floor and a half to go) that the tousle-haired crazy realized he was a fool. D-nit! This is why I wasn't supposed to leave home this way. I Know I've made a mental note about not climbing out windows someone muttered.

 

He was only about a floor from the ground when he finally lost grip of the stones and toppled down(a new record for him, if he only noticed it) He took the fall well though, having been trained by long experience, and the only yells of pain came from pink Clotilda, beneath him. He apologized profusely, but she was tempermental and liked primping, so she was not easily mollified. Also, she had spent the last hour doing her face and then some clumsy creature comes and falls on her! The impudence. Probably those who passed by on the road would have thought Gwaihir a thug, but they only considered him crazy, because he spent half an hour sweet talking a pink rose who he said called herself Clotilda. No matter, Peasant number 3 thought he was crazy anyway.

 

After that, the lillies demanded attention and Jane Smiley said she hadn't gotten her share of fertilizer, so he had to tend to that. But Gwahir did not forget the Cabbages.

 

A short walk further brought him to Baron Pine who was old and deserved a bit of Christmas cheer, so Gwaihir stopped there too. He was an sickly fellow and old even for his race, respect was certainly due. But Gwahir did not forget the Cabbages.

 

Then came the weeds. As he walked past a violet bed, Gwaihir heard a loud fight breaking out. Apparently a few onions had landed there and Missy Prissy was having trouble getting the light she needed because of them. She was young and this would be her first flowering, so all the grownups were protective. However, the onions were strong and quite hardy, so the match was messy. This sort of justice was Gwaihir's least favorite part of gardening, but he knew it must be done. Obviously he would not kill anyone, even an uninvited visitor, but something must be done, so he gave the onions the usual offer. Either they could be transplanted (a painful and often very scarring process from the plant's point of view, possibly even fatal, though that wasn't likely for a hearty plant, considering Gwaihir's skill) or if they wished to stay where they were, that would be allowed, but he would put a spell on them so that they could not grow or flower anymore. Weeds could not be allowed to take over other people's beds. These onions were very offended that Gwaihir would not let them stay as they were, but they insisted that they were scared of nothing, so after much coaxing (which the violets said was wasted on such offensive creatures) they agreed to be transplanted. He moved each one of them seperately into the lawn and that too took time, but Gwahir did not forget the Cabbages.

 

Indeed, no one's face has shown more than this worthy's as he topped a hill and saw the Cabbage Patch. The sun was setting, but he sat down for a long talk. Nothing could make him forget these people.

[Peredhil]

Nuncio was still wiping ice and snow from his face and suit, laughing, and trying to catch his breath.

Guido had finally caught up with him and paid him back for the snowball. And abandoning him in the Kissing Booth.

 

Even though he had a snow wedgie, it was still worth it. He didn't slip one over on his brother very often.

 

Together they searched for a suitable tree. Watching their breath mist in the air and trying unsuccessfully to make "smoke rings", they rested Under the Oak Tree.

After they caught their breaths, they looked at each other, stricken with the same thought.

 

The Oak Tree!

 

By morning, the Oak Tree was covered with Dancing Lights, and Shiny ornaments. Small wicker baskets held candles which gleamed brightly through the loose weaves, dancing as the branches moved, carefully magicked not to start fires.

Enormous loops of threaded popcorn circled the tree round and round, up and down, interspersed with candied clumps of various seeds shaped into balls.

As the dawn peeped into the Courtyard, birds began feeding on the various seeds scattered on the snows around the Oak Tree.

 

Nuncio and Guido were bellowing songs as they headed back to their Room to get some rest, and to find things to give away. They figured they'd wait until the Boss was done with the Kissing Booth, so he could participate as well.

[dragonqueen]

Breath puffing in the cold air, Dq marches through the Christmas Eve snow determinedly. Behind her she drags a small, rather bedraggled, pine tree. The door to the Keep is open a crack, and she shoves it open with a foot. Struggling with the tree, Dq finally manages to get herself and her plant through more or less in one piece. She stops briefly to catch her breath, and then starts towards the Conservatory.

 

Finally arriving at her destination, Dq proudly sets up her tree off to the side. From her pockets she pulls several ornaments, and arranges them on the branches. For the crowning touch she reaches deep into her coat to reveal a glittery star. Handling it carefully, Dq stands on her tiptoes to balance the star on the very top. The tree situated to her liking, Dq pulls out a fleecy picnic blanket and spreads it on the ground. Standing back to admire her handiwork, she considers her next line of action. Obviously, she couldn't simply sit down and start singing alone.

 

From somewhere under her bulky coat, Dq produces a guitar which is only a little too small. She begins to play, awkardly, but the tune resolves itself into something not unlike 'Jingle Bells'. Before long she has a listener or two, singing along. Satsified, she smiles to herself. Now that's a holiday tradition.

[Mynx]

Mynx sat alone in a corner and quietly mused over her thoughts. Her memories kept taking her back to the time she spent with her family during this time of year.

She sighed softly, all of a sudden missing the simple life she once had.

Suddenly, Mynx began to grin to herself as an idea struck. Moving from her corner, the feline sorceress wandered off to an emptier part of the Pen, already rehearsing the spell she had in mind...

 

Later that night, all throughout the Pen music and laughter was heard. Anyone who wandered by to look found a miniature banquet, a bonfire of mage flame in the middle of a circle of Pennites, the number steadily growing as more joined. Mynx sat with Gryphon and Cryptomancer, sharing stories with any others who happened to wander by as the joyful mood infected everyone in the area.

 

All that night, and through to the morning, Mynx's conjured tradition remained as she spent the holiday season with the new family she had found.

[cryptomancer]

Drenched in the early morning light of the year’s shortest day, feathers ruffled against the cold air of dawn, a small form sits perched on the highest point of the Pen Keep. The eddies of the warming air growing around him, The Raven sat watching, seeing all with the open eye of his mind, undistracted by the tainted visions of the physical body.

 

Time drifts in its twists and turns, but for now it has provided the quiet solitude of meditation. His first seeing of the new world around him, a first chance to assess the experience and inspirations, as his mind paces the shadows around the fringe of his thoughts.

 

“Why does this place feel so much like home?”

The cynical muttering of doubt interjected, “Fortress filled with those that teach and study”

“shh”

“Everything you left behind”

“shh”

“Admit it, you should never have left.”

 

The Raven ruffled the feathers a little more, the cool air warming as it became trapped beside the warmth of his body, his foot drawing into the embrace of down escaping the biting cold of his perch.

 

“I am no longer the being I once was.”

“You are the same”

“Yet should have died a lifetime ago”

“You are the same”

“Unchanged since the year I took up my gift”

“Curse”

“Gift, I made me fulfill who I was to become”

“A nameless wanderer?”

“I shall find my place”

“Where?”

“For now, Here”

 

The Raven drew back the shades of his eyes, the glow of the morning air filling his open mind with the colours of dream, the trance drifting from him, his thoughts again resting, at peace with themselves.

 

“For now this place is home, home is where you make it, home is where you are welcomed, home is where you find all you seek.”

 

“How long shall you stay?”

 

“Until it is time?”