polylogs | Happy Holidays

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Happy Holidays

✖ THE MALL

Ⅰ. THE REASON FOR THE SEASON
Boy, wasn’t November exciting? How about those Black Friday deals, huh? Hope you’ve had fun camping out in furniture stores! You can of course continue to bunk there, but the High Temple is also open to all Travelers again this month if you’d rather sleep there. Don’t forget to stock up on items that could fit inside your Traveler bag - this is the perfect time to get that fancy moisturizer you’ve been missing, some books, or maybe a copy of the hot new video game Bonestorm!

As December rolls in, you’ll notice that there’s even MORE holiday cheer to be found! Pressing in on all sides of you! Suffocating you! Or maybe you’re one of those people who just lives for carols and huge plastic evergreens decked out in tinsel and lights, in which case you’re going to be thrilled!

There are indeed plenty of those aforementioned trees throughout the mall, alongside wire and light reindeer, glowing stars, and oversized novelty gift boxes. If you have keen eyes you’ll notice that hidden throughout the mall are dozens of small, creepy elves with dead vacant eyes. They don’t do anything. They just… watch.

Who on earth could they be reporting to?

Ⅱ. HE SEES YOU WHEN YOU’RE SLEEPING

At the center of the mall concourse there is now a miniature village set up, themed entirely in ice and snow and candy. At the center of this plastic paradise is a lavishly decorated chair, and in front of it a camera. At times marked clearly on a schedule at the village gate you can wait in line behind a red velvet rope for your turn to see him.

Who? Well. That depends.

In many worlds, there is a benevolent figure who appears in December, bearing gifts for all the good children. Santa is the most likely person you’ll find sitting on that big chair, ho-ho-hoing and looking as kind and jolly as any creature possibly could.

Maybe you’re from somewhere without a Santa Claus, but with some other equivalent. In that case, you might see what you’re familiar with instead!

Regardless of his exact form, the figure who beckons you to sit beside him has only one concern: have you been nice?

Niceness is subjective, but if you’ve managed it you will be rewarded. With a twinkle in his eye, the Non-Denominational Mall Figure will reach into his magic bag and pull out a gift, JUST for you! What could it be?!

Oh, and don’t forget to smile for the photo! You may pick it up in half an hour once it is developed.

But if you’ve been naughty, or if you sneak over to that chair during the OFF hours? In that case there will be a cracking noise and the sudden overwhelming scent of rank goat.

“Better luck next year,” the Non-Denominational Mall Figure says sadly, his eyes trained on something over your shoulder. Turn your head and you’ll see that your naughtiness has attracted another holiday staple: Krampus.

Yes, this hairy, horned devil carries chains and bitch rods, the latter of which he uses to whip the everloving shit out of you if he catches you. You’ll have to outrun him long enough that he gets bored, or find some other way to distract him or pay him off. Maybe there’s a German market set up in the mall somewhere where you could get Krampus to do a Smorgasvein with you?

Notes:
1. This month if your character has been nice, they may receive ONE special item! They may only receive this gift once - multiple attempts to see the Non-Denominational Mall Figure will result in Krampus appearing instead.

The special item you may pick for your character can be one of the following:

- one animal companion. This animal can travel with your character from island to island from now on. The only stipulation is that it must be able to fit comfortably on the ferryboat. If your animal is too large, your character can instead get a mini version!

- one carriable item from your character’s homeland. In the case of weapons, this must be something that is not game breaking in terms of power level. (ie: yes, you can get a gun, no you can’t get a gun that explodes the sun.)

- a collection of holiday candies, all of which have magical healing properties.

2. You determine if your character’s actions put them on the Naughty or Nice list

Ⅲ. WINTER WONDERLAND
As you wander through the mall you will notice that amongst all the holiday decorations a large area on the first floor that was closed last month is now lit up and has a welcome sign standing outside. Whatever could it be?

Perhaps a bigger and better Orange Julius?

No silly! It's an indoor ice skating rink. And as if that isn't cool enough - get it? Cool? - it would seem that for the whole month skate rentals are free. So go on, slap on a pair of skates and take a whirl around the ice rink! Show everyone your fancy moves or just try not to fall on your ass.

Don't feel like skating? That's okay, there are dorky performances happening at noon and 5pm where a group of people dressed up as holiday creatures will skate around in formation and do tricks.

If you’re more mature, at 8pm there's a live jazz band that will play music for the skaters.

There’s plenty of beverages and foods to be sampled from the holiday kiosks that have popped up close to the rink.

Notes:
1. This is a public ice rink so you will have to share space with people, so if you plan on throwing out a triple lutz or whatever then you might want to make sure you don't hit or slice into anyone with your skates.

Ⅳ. ALL I WANT IS YOU
Cheerful generic holiday music fills the hall as the Christmas celebration hits full swing with a slightly panicked glee. The same rotation of a dozen different carols cycles through, one after the other, hour after hour. There are only a few refuges from the mind numbing music through the mall - that one New Age import shop that hasn’t changed its world music CD in a decade, and Spicy Subject which only plays pop punk covers of carols. Even the bathrooms aren’t safe from that rise and fall of notes that let you know a certain diva is going to tell you that you’re all she wants for Christmas.

Just as the hundredth iteration of the song is about to drive you mad, there’s a tremendous crash. A twenty foot tall Christmas tree that had once been suspended in the middle of the food court has crushed the Pizza Corner and taken out the power source for half the Mall’s sound system in one go. A caped figure escapes along the rafters that once supported the tree in a cloud of heavy fragrance. He pauses only once to bow as banner unfurls. Crude letters have been painted over a previous black Friday announcement: You have been warned: The Phantom!

The crowd begins to murmur and huddle in groups, and if you get nosy there are plenty of rumors. A teen from one of the ear piercing boutiques mentions a ghost story about a Luxuriate employee who got in a terrible accident while mixing bath bombs on site that rendered him permanently aromatic and with a permanent splitting headache that would have killed a lesser person. An older man from the Hotdog Hut pipes up that he disappeared into the labyrinth of hidden hallways that allow employees to navigate the mall for restocking and avoiding the overly aggressive salespeople. Every year the Phantom emerges in an attempt to banish the sky high notes of that ever popular Christmas carol, and every year the people who run the mall put it back in rotation.

Even after the incident with the choir.

A mother with two small children who are more puffy coat than person hushes the hotdog seller. It’s all nonsense of course. Some kind of interactive theater to drive up sales before the holidays. The looks that pass between the other employees, and the signs that the poor twenty-something postgrad working at Pizza Corner might have been crushed say otherwise.

So does the pungent waft of multifloral scent that starts to stalk you through the mall. Apparently, someone’s formed a crush, or are you giving him a terrible headache? What is it about you that you do better than anyone that might be appreciated by this deeply eccentric murder? Or what makes you the most annoying? Either way, it might be good to keep your hand at the level of your eyes because you’re about to be whisked away to the depths of the Mall into the Phantom’s lair.

Notes:
1. The Phantom is now more archetype than human. Killing him will probably not solve the issue, but it will make you smell like you’ve been eating bath bombs and drinking essential oils until New Year. Which could be fun.

2. Alternatively, if you agree with him about the music, you can always agree to team up to take out the rest of the sound system.

3. The Phantom has an excellent tenor voice. Just, you know, in case you were wondering.

Come on Jessica, come on Tori! Let's go to the mall, you won't be sorry!

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Kyle laughs. "No, no. He's non-denominational. At Christmas he'll visit all the boys and girls who have enough fiber in their diets."

Kyle stops, not quite at the lineup, as he suddenly realises what he's doing.

"Oh, god. Oh no. This is another one of my weird childhood things," he bemoans.

"Q, what I'm about to tell you is disgusting and you might think less of me for it, so please remember I love you and also I was like, eight."

He takes a deep breath. "Mr. Hankey is a piece of shit."

"Fiber. Right. Well that tracks..." he mutters.

There's a moment when Kyle is humming and hawing about explaining what's going on here and when Quentin already expects is coming — to some degree — that he's looking intently for signs of a prank in action, because there's no avoiding the fact that this doesn't feel like some weird joke designed to get him to believe something that cannot possibly be true. And Quentin refuses to be made gullible.

He narrows his eyes at Kyle as he speaks and quite without permission he goes scanning for signs of a lie. But finds none.

"Kyle. Babe," he says. "I don't need you to tell me what a piece of shit looks like." He nudges his glasses up his nose. "I need you to tell me why. Why is it in a hat. Why does it talk. Why do you know it by name. All of the whys."

Kyle hides his face in his hands.

"I dunno, he just likes the hat I guess, it's Christmasy. I know him by name because he came to me one year when I was sad because I was, you know. The only kid not doing Christmas. I was in the Christmas pageant as Joseph and my mom flipped the fuck out so they had to change it. And that's when he appeared.

"Nobody believed me. I got committed for a little while. But then eventually other people saw him, and it all worked out okay. Well, until he ruined his career but that was later."

He looks at Quentin. "I am aware of how weird that sounds."

"Mhm. Mhm. Mhm," he nods along with all of this, filing away important follow up questions for later. Because God knows there are many.

"Ok. Well. It's heartening to hear you admit that sounds like something worthy of committing someone. Bodes well for us." Quentin takes a long breath that smacks of a kind of patience and maturity he doesn't often exhibit, but without any sense of a lie from Kyle he wants to believe this.

He holds Kyle's face in hands and looks at him. "I'm sorry you were committed though. That's a raw deal. I would know. But I have more question. Like a lot more questions. And I need you to know that I'm not touching that thing. So please don't ask."

Kyle watches Quentin nervously, not entirely sure what his reaction is going to be. Why this of all things is what makes him feel uncertain he couldn't say.

He relaxes when Quentin touches him. He even tries a smile.

"I wouldn't make you. Also I think it's just a guy in a costume.

"You can ask me anything."

There's a moment of visible relief that relaxes Quentin's posture just to know he doesn't have to go anywhere near a walking talking piece of literal crap. Even if it's just a costume.

"Oh God, thank you. Mascots are creepy. Even when they're not anthropomorphized excrement." He presses a kiss to Kyle's lips while he has him there.

"I need to know why it's sentient. And why it chose you. And what his 'career' was exactly."

"Yeah. They are." He makes a note to tell Quentin about his little skating adventure later.

"Uhm. I dunno, he just is? Like Towelie. He's just a towel who's alive. And he picked me because I was sad, I think."

He laughs. "He's a Christmas figure, that's totally a job! But he kept tweeting stupid bullshit, so. Yeah."

He looks over at the line.

"Will you judge me if I go? Just to make sure it's not really him."

"Towelie. Right. Got it." There's a major gap in his understanding he's not sure he can fill when he doesn't yet know how to ask after things he'd have to find a word for in the first place. He pets Kyle's face sweetly a moment. "Your whole dimension sounds like a fever dream sometimes."

"No. But if you hug that sentient turd I'm going to have to lobotomize myself just enough to keep from teasing you about it for the rest of our lives."

Kyle smiles and leans into Quentin's touch.

"Mm. Says the guy who is host to a bird god or whatever."

He giggles and kisses Quentin's forehead. "Okay, should I meet you somewhere or will you wait here?"

Quentin pulls a face of such sarcastic bewilderment he looks like he can't even decide where to start in with his defence. "Ok but like, I can explain that without being like 'Christmas figure is a career path' so don't even try to come for me."

"Oh, I'm waiting right here. My coprophobia will not let me trust that thing along with you."

"What, it IS! That's Santa's job!" Said completely seriously.

Kyle laughs. "Okay. Okay I'll be right back, I probably won't even like, see him."

[Kyle hurries over to the line, giving Quentin a thumbs up.

He waits a bit, but the line moves quickly. He's at the head of it before he knows it. And then...

Then...

Kyle walks back to Quentin about fifteen minutes later, holding a photograph and thankfully not smelling of shit.]

Hey, dude.

Quentin watches every step of the way too, glowering intensely the closer Kyle gets. Does he feel like an idiot for harbouring any amount of suspicion for a person in a turd costume? Yes. But not enough to regret it.

"Well?" he asks, looking at that photo.

Kyle holds up the photo. It has a cartoon candy cane border, and shows Kyle seated beside a guy in, yes, a turd costume. With a Santa hat. Kyle is laughing in the photo.

"Got my photo taken with a mall Mr. Hankey," he says, amused. "He did the voice REALLY well. Anyway, he said I was a good boy in spite of what we did to the Crate and Barrel and I got to pick a present."

He puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a phone. "Dude, this is my phone from home, it has all of my music and photos on it!"

Quentin looks at that picture a long time. Despite the costume that makes him a little uneasy Kyle looks genuinely happy in that picture and he can't take his eyes off that.

"You told that piece of shit what we did in the Crate and Barrel?" he sounds bewildered. "Wait— you got a present?? I want a present..." maybe he should rethink this whole aversion to trashy costumes.

"Like your phone?" he asks. "Does it... can you text with it and stuff? Does it work here?"

"No, of course I didn't! He just... knew. Whatever, god, no, I wouldn't tell strangers about that. ...did you know David thinks I have 'bottom energy'? Like, what, come ON."

He nods. "It's definitely mine, but I don't get a signal, no. Here, look..."

He unlocks it and goes to his photo gallery. There's a lot of pictures, the most recent of which is just of a dumpster with graffiti reading, "JIZZ STAIN."

"He said I could have one thing from home."

Quentin smiles at Kyle like he's looking a meek little animal. "Aw. He's right babe."

"Maybe the T Mobile kiosk can give you a SIM card," he suggests even if he can't imagine whoever fit them with the Scrywatches would allow for any other means of communication.

He leans against Kyle to get a better look at those photos as he flips through them. "What did that say? What are you taking pictures of on this thing? How come you asked for your phone if you can't call anyone?"

Kyle scowls. "What?! Why?! You tell me why!"

He turns to kiss the side of Quentin's head. "It said 'jizz stain.' I thought it was funny. And I asked for it so I could have my photos and my music, silly. Just think: the next island we're on, even if it's like, the 1970s or an alien planet or whatever, we can listen to makeout music."

He scrolls a bit more then shows Quentin a picture of his brother and himself in front of the Denver museum of nature and science.

"That was me and Ike last year, it was cool. And now I can do this."

He flips on the camera and takes a shot of the two of them.

"Because," he says petting Kyle's cheek. "You're a soft boi. Not Jersey Kyle though. He's a fuck boi. You're a soft boi. Which is almost a tenderqueer. But not as annoying," he says all this kind of matter-of-factly.

"It is funny," he decides with a chuckle. Perhaps it's even more funny to think that Kyle thought it was funny, but whatever the case it seems exactly like the kind of thing that would end up on a college boy's phone. "Did you put it there? Are you an adorably nerdy vandal?" He wants more pictures and more stories and more details from Kyle's life.

"Maybe I should ask them for a bluetooth speaker for better audio quality— hey! I wasn't ready! Do over!"

Kyle's scowl is now also confused. "Tenderqueer? What the fuck is that?! And how am I soft, I'd fight both of you!"

He shakes his head. "No, not me. I feel too guilty about ruining people's property."

He snorts but holds the phone out again. "Okay, you say when."

"Shhh, it's ok. I know you would fight us. But you'd probably feel bad about it. Because you're a soft boi. Even if you've got a hard bod. The two exhibit no correlation," he says.

"And THAT'S why you're a soft boi," he beams at Kyle and plants a lingering smooch on his cheek.

"When," he says, as Quentin strikes a practiced cool face and briefly dons some pink glasses that obscure his eyes. For the gram.

"FINE I'm a soft boi. But you made up 'tenderqueer'!" he accuses.

Kyle takes the photo, then looks at it and snorts. "Mr. Cool," he says. "I'm totally taking candids of you when your guard is down."

"I did not! Get on tiktok already!" he barks back.

Quentin's self satisfied grin doesn't falter for a minute. Even if Kyle's laughing at him he's still looking at him after all. "As long as your phone never has any bars— that's ok," he smirks.

"I can't, we're on a magic island you dork! And I still don't believe you. I'm asking David."

Kyle rolls his eyes. "Oh, shut up, you're always adorable. Look, did you wanna go see Mr. Hankey or not?"

"Go for it. If he doesn't back me up on this you're both out of touch," he grumps, but as usual it's a noncommittal grump.

He looks back at the costumed character a long moment, "I don't know what... like... what's his whole deal? What am I supposed to ask him. It's not like Santa right? I don't tell him I've been a good boy and I want a firetruck or whatever. Also, what do I want? Like what should I ask for? Did you ask for that phone or did he just... know?"

Kyle rolls his eyes yet again.

He laughs and nudges Quentin with his shoulder. "Dude, I literally walked up, sat down, and he said, 'Howdy-ho, Kyle! You've been a good boy in spite of what you did in that Crate and Barrel. Have you been getting enough fibre?' And I said, yeah, and he said I could ask for one object from home or I could have something else. So I picked my phone."

He kisses Quentin's cheek. "I think you've been really good, dude. Like, you've done nothing but help me out lately, and you've been getting along with people. I bet you'd get a present."

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