Happy Holidays

[polymods]

✖ 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!

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Comments

[kyley_b]

Kyle makes a noise that sounds more like a puppy whining in pain than anything else. He gropes for Quentin, mentally and physically, craving his warmth and comfort.

"Am I okay?" he asks.

[quire]

"Yes, yes, of course. Of course you are. You're great. We're all great. You're just uh... call it an out of body experience. Totally fine. People have them all the time. I've got you," he babbles, inviting Kyle's hand against his chest for something to hold onto.

[kyley_b]

Kyle curls against Quentin, not entirely sure if he's doing so physically or not.

"I'm sorry," he says. "That you got hurt."

[quire]

For the moment both are true. He holds Kyle against him and tries to bridge the gap between both places just to limit the sensory input Kyle's got to deal with.

"No, you got hurt. I didn't mean that for you though. But it's ok. It's not permanent. It's just a hangover. We'll go to the CVS I saw down there and get you some pills. We'll sleep it off together, don't worry."

[kyley_b]

"No," Kyle manages, thoughts coming more naturally now.

"YOU did. In the past. And it hurt you again now. Just now." He wraps his arms around Quentin's neck and hugs him tightly.

[quire]

"hey, hey don't fight so much. It'll tire you out. I know that's a lot coming from me but like, trust me..." he says, holding Kyle against him. He doesn't slip through his fingers like sand either. Not like others have.

"I know, it's just like fuel, you know? It doesn't matter, just do me a favour and think about like... the smell of linoleum and the way fake leather La-Z-Boys feel. Just 'til you're back on your feet."

[kyley_b]

Kyle is a stubborn one. "It DOES matter. It matters a lot," he says, but he does try to do as Quentin asks. He can feel cheap fake leather under his hands.

"I'm okay."

[quire]

When he can hear the words as much on Kyle's lips as in his head, Quentin takes a breath of relief. "Ok, ok, it matters a lot. But like not as much, at this very moment, as your continued consciousness so just, one thing at a time ok? Please?"

[kyley_b]

"Okay." Hah, take that, he made you admit your trauma is significant.

Kyle stays hugging Quentin, feeling the real world seep in little by little. He becomes aware that Wham! is playing over the PA system.

"I hate Christmas music," he murmurs.

[quire]

Point Kyle.

"Me too," he says. "It's smothering." After a moment there's a crackling on the P.A. and some discombobulated voice comes on muttering a confused apology before the the dulcet crooning of Morrissey replaces it with Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now.

"C'mon. There's a McPlayPlace over there. Let's go sit in the ballpit and chill. I'll make it quiet there. If you think you can walk yet..."

[kyley_b]

Kyle snorts. "Q, you're hilarious," he says, smiling a little.

He nods and gets to his feet. He's a little wobbly so he hangs onto Quentin as they walk.

"I'm sorry I grabbed you. I was afraid you were going to hurt the stupid Santa village."

[quire]

He smiles meekly, but a little reassured that Kyle's well enough to laugh at him.

Quentin tucks his arm around him and finds himself glad that a little telekinesis can make like he's a bit sturdier than he is.

As they shuffle into the Playplace everyone using it seems to suddenly and inexplicably realize they prefer the Burger King.

"No, don't be. Don't be sorry for that. You're always allowed to grab me. I just didn't know you were gonna. Because I was gonna hurt the stupid Santa Village."

[kyley_b]

"Quentin, you can't just hurt people because they jabbed you in the childhood trauma," Kyle says gently. "I guess at least now I understand why you were so mad at not being flat out denied a stupid present."

Kyle peers at the ball pit and then sniffs. Okay. It doesn't smell like piss. Should be fine.

"Your parents sucked, dude."

[quire]

"I definitely canshouldn't," he huffs. "I don't care about their presents. But they can't just like fuck with people either and call it bettering. That's bullshit.

"Kid cooties? You're right. I got you. It's cool. Totally hygienic," he promises and each of the balls in the ball pit, one at a time, go pop like a little piece of popcorn, leaving it like the kernel surrounded by a pink fluffy exoskeleton. "Hermetically sealed. All of them," he promises flopping back into the sea of them.

"Everybody sucks," he agrees and reaches out for Kyle to follow.

[kyley_b]

Kyle sighs and turns, falling backwards into the ball pit. He can't remember the last time he was in one, and of course he sinks further down than he did as a child. Luckily it's deep enough that he doesn't bang his head on the ground.

He struggles up enough that he can see his boyfriend.

"I'm just saying. You got a gift, so obviously Santa thinks you're doing okay. And I agree with him. That said, I'm sorry that literally this entire situation is basically forcing you to feel like you need to earn straight As to get approval."

He wriggleflops through the balls toward Quentin, which feels ridiculous and looks even more so. He reaches for him, snorting laughter against his will.

"Sorry. Just. Balls in my face. Quentin, you know I'm not gonna leave you behind, right? And you can talk to me, dude. About anything."

[quire]

On his back he sinks into his now tightly controlled ball pit until little more than his face remains clear of their psionic popcorn pool.

"I know you're just like, trying show me the silver lining here. Or maybe, I dunno, give me a reason to think I should be grateful. But I'm not. And maybe that makes me an entitled asshole. Fine. So be it. Because like, I can't swallow being grateful for being willfully ignored. For being taken like I don't know what's good for me. You know? Like if I went to a doctor and said, my leg is broken, I need a cast. And they were like, here's some Advil walk it off. Should I be grateful for the Advil? Fuck no. I know what I'm asking for. I know what I need. But no one over the age of like 40 ever fucking listens when you tell them that. Because they don't want to give you what you need. They just wanna give you what they think you need."

He lets out a deep huff of breath because he could keep on rambling but he'll only work himself up again and Kyle struggling through all these balls is kind of funny even if he sort of wants to scream. Instead he chuckles quietly.

"I know you're not," he says reaching out for Kyle's hand and dragging him closer. "Not intentionally anyway. It just seemed a good idea. To get something we could control. Maybe autonomously. To stay in touch. 'Cause like. The more ways to reach you the better."

[kyley_b]

"So what DO you think you deserved, Q?" There's no malice or even frustration in the question.

Kyle manages to get even closer, pressing his face into Quentin's neck. "You're trying to keep an eye on me, huh?" he asks, smiling against Quentin's warm skin. "I don't mind that. I wanna keep an eye on you too, 'cause I worry."

He sighs and brings both hands up to cup Quentin's face. "I love you so, SO much, dude."

[quire]

"Nothing! Everything! Null! Void! How long is a piece of string?" he says turning up his open palms like he can't come up with any more words to explain the sort of absence of an answer he means. "To deserve, as a concept, implies the existence of some kind of objective moral truth. Some metric by which I ought to be judging that. Even if—" he plants his hands as if he means to sit himself up, forgetting then instability of the balls that surround him and sinking immediately. Feet stuck out of the ball pit and head buried under it somewhere he gives up trying to right himself amidst a lack of frictive mass and just carries on. Voice muffled by balls.

"Even if you wanna say mine, like just my own personal, individual metric is the one in question here, my belief is that no one deserves anything. Ipso facto everyone deserves everything. Neither of which is a condemnation of myself or a declaration of ego. It's just like, an expression of some nihilistic belief about the universe."

He finds Kyle amongst the balls and drags himself upright with him as an anchor.

"Of course I'm trying to keep an eye on you. I don't wanna be in this dimension or any other stupid dimension if you're not in it."

[kyley_b]

Kyle sighs deeply. There's nothing to argue with, really - if that's how Quentin sees it, that's how he sees it. Still, he can't help but feel it's a bit of a cop-out.

"Fine," he says. "I was mostly interested in YOUR individual metric, yes. So. Thank you for explaining."

He wraps his arms around Quentin. "I won't leave you," he says again. "No matter what. I'll stay with you, somehow."

[quire]

He can taste the dissatisfaction Kyle feels in hearing that, even if Quentin does believe it. It's hard not to think Kyle was hoping he possessed more altruistic beliefs.

"That is my metric," he mumbles a little. "If you're asking what I think. That's what I think. If you're asking what I feel. Then... sure. That's different. What I think and what I feel aren't always the same thing. But how can anyone trust the thing that's categorically less objective." The boy who lives in his head is not quick to give his feelings any credence. But he can find them. If he shuts up for a minute.

He wraps his arm around Kyle and lets the rest of his weight go slack, dragging them back down into the ball pit. "You better," he mumbles into the crook of Kyle's neck. "It's the same with you. I know I don't deserve you. I just know I need you. And everyone is waiting to tell me what I akshully need."

[kyley_b]

Kyle gives Quentin a look that implies he might be a little nuts. "Okay, well," he says slowly. "How do you FEEL, then? Because that's just as important, dude. Even if it's not rational."

He snuggles closer, worming past balls. "You deserve me," he asserts. "And I need you too, you know. I dunno what other people think we need."

[quire]

“I feel like I don’t deserve you,” he admits, as plainly as he’ll ever cop to anything. “You or whatever stupid giveaways they’re dishing out. I know rationally that’s not true. Not because I do deserve anything but because of all that stuff about deserving anything being a totally fabricated concept dependant on a socially constructed moral framework. But I mean, I was raised in one of those. So I know when I’m not living up to it,” he sighs.

“It’s really only important if other people actually give a shit. And generally they don’t.” As cynical as that is he doesn’t delight in it. Instead he finds a place for his head in the crook of Kyle’s shoulder and closes his eyes a moment.

He scoffs a little. “Life lessons, mostly— that’s what they’d prescribe us.”

[kyley_b]

Kyle doesn't entirely believe that Quentin fully buys his own bullshit, but it doesn't really matter. What matters is that he's hurt, and it's an old hurt that runs deep.

"I give a shit," he says quietly. "I really do."

He hugs him a little tighter. "You sure picked the wrong boyfriend. I'm all about life lessons. I'm just full of em."

[quire]

“I know,” he says. “That’s why you’re such a weirdo.” Which of course means, that’s why I love you.

“You are not,” he groans. “I mean, you are. I get it. But also like you don’t go around trying to each everyone what’s for their own good. You’re not paternalistic.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get a phone. And I’m sorry I flash fried your brain. That wasn’t meant for you.”

[kyley_b]

"Takes one to know one," he says with a grin.

His grin turns into something more embarrassed. "I mean... I TRY not to," he says. "But I do, sometimes. It's always been a problem."

He leans in and kisses Quentin's forehead. "Dude, don't be sorry about the phone. That's fine. Just don't lose those candies, okay?"

He kisses his lips. "And that's okay. I'm just glad you didn't go on a rampage."