We Survived the Snowmageddon

[worktodo]

Who: Albert Rosenfield (worktodo) and whoever is congregating at the Justice Farm for the Christmas holiday!
Where: El Rancho del Justicia, aka Albert's house in Saffron City
When: Anytime between Monday the 24th and Wednesday the 26th!
Summary: A lot has changed in a month, but some things never do. Losers getting together to fail their way through the holiday season is one of them.
Rating: Individual threads may vary, but let's go with G overall and warn otherwise!
Log:

Despite generally doing a very excellent Grinch impression, Albert doesn't actually hate Christmas. Granted, it's not one of his favorite holidays the way that Thanksgiving is — it's a little too overdone, a little too commercial, lacking in some of the spirit of togetherness in favor of the spirit of consumerism — but it is decidedly a holiday, and once again Johto has presented him with a situation where he is forced to make a choice. For the second time this year (by Albert's reckoning), Johto appears to have done everything in its power to prevent them from putting on a holiday, including but not limited to summoning up the actual apocalypse. The question that begs to be asked, therefore, is simply: is Albert willing to surrender Christmas in the face of all these apparent attempts to ruin it?

The answer, naturally, is: oh, hell no.

It is, however, an undeniably different atmosphere from the one that filled the house on Thanksgiving. Most of the occupants of the house are worse off now than they were then, be it emotionally or physically — some from spooky encounters, some from harsh truths, and some from going out in the apocalyptic snow like the damn fools they are — so if there's slightly less pep and enthusiasm saturating the grounds, that could certainly be why. Any decorations applied to the outside of the house have been battered at best and outright wrecked at worst. But as the slightly paraphrased song lyric goes, "Though the weather outside is frightful, by the fire it's so delightful", and the interior of the house is a thankfully different story.

On Monday, Albert will be spending the Eve of Christmas largely in the kitchen, having allotted the whole day for getting all the components of Christmas dinner prepared and readied in advance; on Thanksgiving, it's a fundamental part of the holiday tradition to run around the kitchen like a madman trying to get dinner to the table on time, but for Christmas, he'd rather everything just go smoothly. Early arrivals are welcome to hang out in the cozy parts of the house, grab some cocoa, and carefully avoid him; otherwise, they might get drafted into menial labor like shoveling out the front walk or putting the finishing touches on the interior decor before the party officially kicks off.

By Tuesday, it's all Christmas all the time; there is no victory quite so sweet as the one that comes hard-won, and as far as Albert is concerned, the most effective "screw you" to Johto's Snowmageddon is putting on an occasion that is positively bursting with holly and jolly anyway. Somewhere near the kitchen, Zack the Porygon2 is contributing by blasting from his Gear's speakers a concert of every Christmas song he knows (of which there are three: "Feliz Navidad", "Grandma Got Run Over By A Stantler Reindeer", and the Weather Girls' "It's Raining Men"). A stately (albeit slightly lopsided) Christmas tree that is probably the Johto equivalent of a Douglas fir is set up in a corner of the living room near the fireplace — which is burning merrily — and its branches are decorated with makeshift ornaments like Pokeballs and paper throwing stars along with the standard colored bauble variety. Stuff your presents below; there'll be time for opening them later, but for now they're part of the decor. There's holly on the piano and fake candles in the windows, and you better believe at least half of those doorways have mistletoe strategically placed near them. Don't get caught! (Or do, if that's what you're here for.)

The one new and interesting addition to the house can be found in a corner of the living room, where a little space has been carved out for a small end table topped with coasters, a chair, and a tripod apparatus just the right size for holding a standard Pokegear. Got someone to call and wish a Merry Christmas? Do it from the comfort of this corner like it's Masterpiece Theater.

But however Tuesday is spent, there's sure to be a lot of love, gifting, and good Christmas cheer. Or else.

When Wednesday comes along, it'll be the standard post-Christmas wind-down — leftovers aplenty in the kitchen, trash bags of crumpled wrapping paper tucked into the corners, and a nice low-pressure environment in which to interact, gush over gifts, and enjoy the spirit of the season a little longer before getting right back to work on Important Business. For some, that might mean playing in the snow or having a snowball fight; for others, that might mean coordinating federal agent business for the future. But either way, it's another Christmas survived, and that's what really matters, right?


[OOC: Just like last time, this is an open log for everybody coming to Albert's for Christmas! Feel free to start your own threads as you please — open them to everybody, close them to specific people, whatever works for you. Just make a note in the header of what day it's taking place on and who all's invited, and have fun, everybody! Also, for people who aren't physically present at the Farm on Christmas, feel free to use the designated Skype Thread™ to chat with them over video anyway!]

Comments

SKYPE THREAD

[worktodo]

[Got someone to call who isn't present and accounted for on the Justice Farm? Ring them up for a conversation in here!]

{OPEN!} Incoming call on Christmas Eve!

[triptoprofiling]

[This will only take a couple of minutes.

These past few days have been nothing but a roller coaster of blustering winds, frustration and small triumphs. Jayden has had his fair share of life throwing shit at him before but he can't quite put his finger on it. Partially because it feels like his head is in a daze. He could blame the damn weather but he knows that isn't just it.

So here he is. In Cherrygrove finally hunkering down just in time for the holidays and suffice to say, he looks like shit. Well, he knows even on a good day he looks like a mess but he keeps it under wraps by keeping himself well groomed. After being tossed into the wilderness in the beginning of winter, grooming becomes a secondary thought. Even in his second set of clothes, his hair is two strands out of place and his face looks a shade paler than before.

Jayden finds a secluded area in the Pokémon Center to give the guys he first spoke to at New Bark Town a call. A quick hello and thank you should be good, yeah? He doesn't want to be a bother.]

OPEN! Monday all day and Tueday, late afternoon!

[foolishwren]

Christmas cheer.

Yeah, everybody could use a little of that lately. A LOT of that, in fact.

Which is why Heather, who truth be told has not been in the mood to celebrate at ALL, knows that she has to drag the family away from their quiet hotel rooms and off to the edge of town to immerse themselves in absolute holiday chaos again. It's the only way.

So around 11 AM on Christmas Eve's morning, Heather, oxymoronically clad in a leather coat as black as a Hot Topic broom closet and .... um.... this, shows up at the door with her ragtag family band behind her, bearing baskets of cookies as a sort of pre-planned peace offering for the havoc they'll surely wreak. Considering their arrival had been preceded by a big orange barking juggernaut plowing up the snowy path ahead of them and promptly slamming into a bush outside the house and probably making the living room wall rattle inside, this was probably a good plan.

After depositing a few gifts under the tree (intended for the more permanent residents of the ranch to open the following morning), Heather can be found for the rest of the day around the house, generally trying to soak in the holiday cheer as much as possible and avoid being spotted by Albert*. Whether or not she's spotted casually hanging out in the cozy spots or blatantly sneaking around may vary.



_{*Fortunately, the mistakes from last time will apparently not be repeated leaving room for entirely new ones. She apparently decided to remedy the problem of an escape-artist, havoc-wreaking Murkrow by tying Wren to a balloon. With her wings pinned to her sides and no real control over what direction she floats in, anyone in the house may witness a black bird roughly the size of a football floating past them down the hall, suspended from a bright orange balloon and cheerfully emitting a stream of profanity as she passes.}

Monday!

[bywiseguidance]

Ziva smiled as another person arrived, and swept toward the door. "Hello, Merry Christmas!" Though she didn't celebrate the holiday, she could appreciate the celebration. "May I take your coat for you?" Making herself useful and all.

Monday~

[newberktown]

[WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT NOISE JUST NOW oh okay, looking out the window he can see that it was a giant dog. That made sense. Off the window seat and down the stairs he goes! It would probably be rude to spend any more of the morning upstairs reading, after all.]

Hi, Heather! [Hiccup's good on the 'cheer' front, even after his rough patch with poison and the bad memories of ~NO DRAGONS~ that comes with the holiday season, if his tone is anything to go by.] Need any help with anything?

Open: Monday- all day and Tuesday, later afternoon

[haveyouseenalittlegirl]

Crowds, Harry is not a fan of crowds. But holidays are supposed to be with friends so he's here of course. Putting his gifts under the tree, and being one of the rare quiet members of the Silent Hill+ travelling party.

And both days, Harry will be off to the side, in whatever room has the least amount of people.

T...uesday? /BAD AT DECISIONS

[newberktown]

[After storms and Snoggletog celebrations in the great hall back home, living in Goldenrod for several months, and spending Thanksgiving at the Justice Farm, Hiccup is pretty comfortable in the crowds! But every once in a while, the bony teen just needs some time away to get some air. The ability to be in a crowd didn't mean that solitude wasn't something he was more used to.

It takes him a moment to place Harry's face, what with all the people around, so he sounds a little uncertain when he speaks.]

...Heather's dad, right? We've spoken before, I think.

monday?

[tapestodiane]

Well, the tough thing about crowds is that they're really not so easy to avoid, and Harry's un/fortunately likely to cross paths with a handful of people despite wanting to be more or less left alone. Harry can decide for himself if Coop being one of them is a good thing or not, but once spotted, he'll be approached.

"Harry! Glad you came", and that's a soft greeting if there ever was one - their last conversation hadn't been all that optimistic.

Monday!

[bakaitoukid]

Kaito, on the other hand, was very much a fan of crowds at people. But even the hustle and bustle of the holidays tended to wear him out, and it's only after weaving through the crowd of people that he happens to slip into the same room Harry was hiding out in.

He leans against the door with a sigh, Biz the Aipom (so naturally perched on top of his head), mirroring his actions. And it's only then that he notices he's not alone.

There is a pause, and then he smiles. "Hey there!" he says cheerfully, pushing away from the door, "Merry Christmas, too."

open; christmas eve

[likewatson]

[Let the record show that Harry tried. In spite of the news weighing him down, in spite of the new strain in his relationship with Cooper, in spite of the almost-apocalypse and Albert's moronic escapade out in it, in spite of the lack of sleep and the anger and the fact that he can pass for fine during the day but just can't stop crying when he's alone in his room at night —

In spite of all that, he tried. He bought presents, helped decorate, and even caught himself humming a holiday tune or two while doing so. And for a little while, the distractions were enough. It's not that he forgot, of course — it was just that those situations offered escape into a world where Josie was nothing more than a dull, ignorable ache in his chest, so he ignored it.

He thought he was doing pretty well, too, for a guy who had to deal with all that on top of being completely misplaced on top of celebrating Christmas only three months ago. (Holiday fatigue exists, and anyone who wants to say otherwise can either fight him or spend the bulk of December in Twin Peaks. Talk to him after you've sat through half a dozen pageants in which plastic baby Jesus is dropped on his head by some child who couldn't remember dialogue if you wrote it on his hand. And then there's the annual tree lighting, which is followed by the annual panicked phone call from Andy, which goes something like this: "Sheriff Truman! The lights shorted out and there's a tree on fire! Again!")

Unfortunately, Christmas Eve finds Harry in bad shape. It's not that he's on the brink of another crying fit, and he's certainly not trying to dampen any spirits by dragging his wet blanket self around the house, but there's a decidedly unhappy air about him. He's pretty sure that part of the problem is the lack of communication happening — he's avoiding Cooper because he doesn't want to discuss Josie or, even worse, how he's feeling about the whole thing; he's avoiding Albert because he's still pissed off that Mr. Ivy League Smartass almost wound up dead by his own volition; he's avoiding Carmen and everyone else because he just doesn't have the energy to keep up a friendly conversation right now, and boy, managing to keep out of everyone's way when the house is steadily filling up with people is a feat.

So it's Clara who joins him when he finally emerges from the back porch. He drifts through the kitchen, past Albert, and claims a spot at the still-empty dining room table, where he can pretend to consider fixing a broken ornament that someone put there while his little Cleffa toddles off to inspect the company.]

I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE IF THIS MAKES THINGS WORSE

[foolishwren]

<sub>[Harry's not alone in feeling burned out, although he's probably got more of an excuse for it than most. The holidays have been harder on the folks from Twin Peaks than most, probably.]

[But sadly for him, thinking he can get away with not enjoying the company while sitting in the middle of the dining room is a big mistake.]

[He may note some movement in his peripheral vision-- something black, roughly at eye-level. And it's getting closer. AND CLOSER.]

[And-- should he turn to look, it's-- ... it's a crow. A crow with a string tied around it, floating gently through the air with what must be a helium-filled orange balloon bumping gently against the ceiling as it goes.]

[The deep, indigo-black bird regards him solemnly, as if it had just stepped out of a poem written by Edgar Allen Poe. If, you know, he was high.]

[And then, it opens its beak and cheerfully delivers a single word of wisdom.]</sub>

BUTTS.

Mopey Harry's Unite

[haveyouseenalittlegirl]

[Someone else has the same idea. Harry is still a bit under the weather after his wife's disappearance again, and being in crowds doesn't help. He sits down at the table while Lisa, the Togetic floats next to him.

Then floats over to see the other person at the table. Hello.]

[doitrockapella]

[And look who it is, sneaking into a chair across the table and reaching across it to set a mug of hot spiced cider within optimal reaching distances.]

Is it salvageable?

[She means the ornament, naturally. Probably.]

[worktodo]

[HARRY ARE YOU SAD

GUESS WHAT WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY

A LAPFUL OF PUPPY SNOUT

HELLO C8 ]

aaaand here we go

[tapestodiane]

<sub>[And as cute as the pink little creature is, Coop sidesteps her when he enters the dining room as well - but not without a quiet greeting and a smile, which is both to appease the Cleffa and to let Harry know he's there. Which isn't to let him flee the conversation that has to happen, because Coop won't let him do that any more than he already has. He's given him time, more than he would have anyone else, but time alone can only do so much to fix a problem.]

[Which is why he's here now.]</sub>

Harry, we should talk.

Christmas Eve, main room

[leftinbasketforfbi]

Someone discovered the piano. That someone was also getting pretty sick of an ongoing loop of the same three songs.

"Hey, Zack? You can take a break. I'll handle the music for a bit." Yeah, on top of everything else, he's also a pianist. Reid sipped the apple cider he was drinking, then put it carefully to the side before sitting at the piano bench. As he experimentally played a couple scales to see if it needed tuning, he called to the house, "Does anyone have any requests?"

Who knows? Perhaps everyone could start singing Christmas Carols while he plays along.

[foolishwren]

AND THEN A HEATHER EMERGED FROM THE SHADOWS.

Or, you know, from where she'd been standing by the fireplace with her own glass of cider. Either or.

"Whoa, you play piano too? ... Try Jingle Bells."

She had to hear it to believe it-- although given the way this guy seemed to be full of intellectual surprises, she had a feeling she probably wouldn't be disappointed.

[doitrockapella]

[And lo, from the Gear apparatus, hopped a small pink and blue cybernetic tinybird, bouncing over toward the piano to say hello to Reid in person. Also because the piano makes interesting sounds! Sounds he could add to his collection and someday remix, moo hoo ha ha ha.

But of course, the problem with being out of the Gear is that Zack's ability to communicate abruptly becomes a lot more limited, and so once he makes it over to the piano bench, he hops up and down a little before firing off a rapid string of beeps and boops for Reid's listening pleasure.]

.... . .-.. .-.. --- / .- --. . -. - / .-. . .. -.. / .... . .-.. .-.. --- !!!

[Or, for those capable of translating Morse Code on the fly —

HELLO AGENT REID HELLO !!!]

Tuesday, in the main room by the fireplace/tree

[doitrockapella]

[From the way Carmen's carrying herself on Christmas, you'd hardly even guess that just five days earlier she'd come home pelted with snow and ice and high on adrenaline, having just flown a daring aerial mission through a blizzard in an attempt to tip over a legendary golem like a frat boy faced with a field of unsuspecting cows. The downer news was, her efforts hadn't managed to stop Regice's reign of terror for more than an hour or two at most; the silver lining, however, was that she'd managed to down the thing a good four times, and hey, from her perspective, you take your successes wherever you get them.

As it is, though, she's taking it relatively easy today. Christmas colors being red and green, she's dressed for the holiday in a rich (and heavy, for subtle extra warmth) red turtleneck sweater and a green-and-gray plaid pencil skirt with knee-high boots to round things out. And she's spending most of her time sticking close to the fireplace and Christmas tree, getting up only to go filch food and drink when the whim strikes her, and otherwise seeming to contemplate the decorations strewn all over the house with a silent yet unusually focused air.

Christmas. She ought to be having a quiet evening at home, playing chess with the Chief. And yet she's here in this warm house full of chatter and people, and there are gifts in those brightly-wrapped boxes under the tree, and some of them are intended for her. The very thought is...astounding.

It's one of two thoughts she's got on her mind at the moment, really.

The other, of course, is that jesus christ someone needs to get Zack to stop playing Feliz Navidad already.]

[foolishwren]

<sub>[Despite the general chaos, it's a day where a LOT of them could frankly use some relaxation. Which is actually why Heather is indoors rather than outside trying to goad people into starting, like, the Normandy of snowball fights. She'll probably try to do that later anyway, since she promised Mio to teach her the fine art of snow wars, but for the moment, the warmth and comfort of the ranch is a little more appealing.]

[It's probably a little later in the day, since Harry had wanted a small, quiet Christmas morning in the hotel room rather than a big spectacle (understandable, really... rambunctious kiddo or not, twenty-four years of celebrating the holiday alone with his daughter made an already-shy man reluctant to change), but Heather can't stay away, and she wanted to come up at least during the afternoon. If only to see in person if the gifts she left were opened or not.]</sub>

... Hey!

_{[It's a quieter greeting than normal for Heather, who spotted Carmen by the fire when she came in.]}

Busy morning?

_{[Cue a quick glance at the tree to see if the gifts she'd brought the previous day had been touched yet.]}

GRATUITOUS SMOOCHING THREADS GO HERE

[worktodo]

ALSO THERE'S MISTLETOE
You don't need a reason, just make up an excuse and kiss somebody.

[bywiseguidance]

[This is one tradition Ziva has never gotten to experience. She doesn't know what mistletoe looks like. Much less what one does under it. Surprising, for having Tony for a teammate.

Someone obviously needs to enlighten her. 'Cause she's standing right there.]

Monday and onward.

[no_ufo_ending]

It was hard to notice at first. The anomaly only appeared if one looked hard enough, but there it was plain as day! Something was appearing in the holiday photographs taken those few cheerful days.

That something was Henry Townshend on his life quest to photobomb the everloving shit out of everyone at this party.

He could be spotted in the background of nearly every single picture taken wearing an almost ridiculously intense expression. Maybe it was the edge of his face. Maybe he was hanging in a doorway or even appearing between the gaps of people's shoulders. Wherever there is a photo to be taken, he is there. Silent. Efficient. Sort of unnerving.

The only time Henry isn't ruining photos is when he's hovering at the edge of the kitchen and around the tables tables while sampling the snacks that have been set out.

[foolishwren]

Henry.

Henry.

Jesus christ.

Okay, so Heather wouldn't exactly disapprove (photobombing is hilarious), she would be a little creeped out by the extent to which he's taking it.

If, you know. She knew.

She doesn't.

So when she sidles up to him at the snack table, it's with purely photobomb-unrelated intentions.

"Sup, Shaggy?"

She pats him on the back, seemingly in greeting.

She's actually sticking a giant decorative bow intended to go on presents back there.

It's probably pretty obvious.

"Anything good to eat?"

Monday and on

[remainingtwin]

[Mio will never quite understand the fact that Westerners don't get all dressed up in their best for holidays. It seems like such an integral and solid fact of life: There's a holiday or celebration? Dress in your best kimono.

She thought maybe Christmas would've been different, but alas. Mio finds herself in the beautiful kimono again on Christmas Eve, feeling overly dressed and sullen because of it.

On Christmas day she'll be wearing something more modern, courtesy of Carmen.

Unfortunately, since Christmas is celebrated differently in Japan, she didn't get presents for, well, anyone. She's got two envelopes of nicely written cards with money in them for Albert and Cooper, and some books for Reid. And that's it.

Any presents gifted to her will be met with flustered confusion--In Japan, Christmas is a romantic holiday, after all. Giving a gift to the hosts and to the man who was more-or-less her brother obviously didn't count in that regard, but still.]

[foolishwren]

_{[If Mio's hoping to spot someone dressed up, she'll be sadly disappointed when Heather catches her eye and waves to her-- the older girl is just as scruffy as ever, wearing a leather coat and jeans with the knees busted to hell and back.]}

Hey!

Merry Christmas!

So, you plannin' on having that snowball fight up here on the farm?

_{[If so, she likes that plan! Plenty of space, some woods to duck in and out of for cover...]}

outside, monday!

[tapestodiane]

<sub>[Obviously, Christmas isn't quite Christmas without decorations. And Cooper is, let's face it, pretty enthusiastic about this little part of the holiday - if only because he hasn't actually decorated anything for literally years.]

[It's a tragedy.]

[But it's a tragedy he's making up for (and has been doing for the past few days, if the trails of garland and ornaments are any indication), and since the End Of The World sort of ruined a lot of things, he's taken it upon himself to make sure that at least the decorations are in order. There's only so much you can do about what's inside of people, after all; that's a much more delicate issue and one he won't tackle just yet.]

[So if you're outside on monday morning until early afternoon or so, you might find one Dale Cooper balancing on the top of one of those stepladders as he straightens the lights and tinsel and holly out.]

[Well, either that or taking a walk in the woods to try to locate whatever things were blown off the house during the blizzard. Not so much cause he truly believes in finding half the stuff, but you know. It's the principle of the thing.]</sub>

[doitrockapella]

[COOPER WHY ARE YOU WALKING IN THE WOODS

WHAT IS ACTUALLY WRONG WITH YOU

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, MAJOR BRIGGS?

That is, he might just hear footsteps behind him crunching rapidly through the snow like someone's running — and that would be because, well, someone is.]

Monday; afternoon and post-Reid thread!

[doitrockapella]

[So having been summarily told to can it after approximately three thousand and seven renditions of Feliz Navidad (and the rude awakening that It's Raining Men is not, in fact, a Traditional Holiday Carol at all), Zack has taken the opportunity — and temporary exile from Carmen's Gear — to go hop up onto the piano bench and putter around, playing with the notes and repeating some of the sequences that Reid had showed him earlier.

Turns out he's actually rather good at a cappella, and he doesn't really need to tune when he knows the Hz for every note, so it's mostly just a game for him — plucking out a few notes on the piano, and singing to himself in beeps and boops that come in tinny 8-bit pitches.

And so he sits around, cycling through the songs he knows that aren't the three he was playing earlier, which currently include I've Told Ev'ry Little Star, Carol of the Bells, and Carmen's battle theme (courtesy of Rockapella).]

open; wednesday

[likewatson]

[Waking up in Albert's bed would have been confusing enough, but no — Harry had to wake up in Albert's bed with something small and furry on his face that shocked him when he poked it.

All that and a hangover.

Anyway, skipping past an awkward exit and a too-hot shower and a mostly untouched breakfast, Harry is now seated on the living room couch with his beautiful new baby in hand.

...no, not the Emolga; we're talking about his guitar. He plucks gently at the strings to get a feel for it and makes some slight adjustments in the tuning, thinking all the while how pleased he is that his friends chose such a perfect gift. It's almost enough to distract him from the fuzzy memories of the day and night prior, but they stubbornly remain. For this reason, the first song he decides to play and quietly sing along with is a lot slower and a little sadder than it should be.]

[bywiseguidance]

[Ziva's head is a little fuzzy as well, having hit the sauce a little harder than she has in a good while last night. Nothing a cup of very black, very strong tea couldn't fix in her opinion, and she'd woken up early to get it. Though three teabags in one cup would seem perhaps a bit excessive to most.

There hadn't been anyone awake when she first came down, but the sound of a guitar would imply that had changed. She slid into the living room to see who was up and, perhaps, listen.]