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

[tapestodiane]

<sub>[... well.]

[No lie; there's a strange sense of uneasiness when he follows the command, but he does. Unroots himself, pulls out the chair, and sits.]

[Wordlessly.]

[Waits.]</sub>

[likewatson]

[Harry allows a moment of awkward silence before he makes it clear that his patience is already running low by folding his arms across his chest. It's a defensive gesture, he knows, and Coop's welcome to read into it all he likes.]

I'm not gonna sit here and have a staring contest, Cooper. If you want us to talk, start talking.

[tapestodiane]

<sub>[Of course he reads into it, too. It's a reflexive action in many ways, something he can't help. And what he reads into it is not just defense. It's creating distance. Which in itself signals anger. Maybe a challenge.]

[It's a clear statement: don't come any closer.]

[But it's Cooper's job to keep digging until he finds answers and resolutions. That doesn't stop just because his badge doesn't mean anything in this world.]

[He weighs his words for a short moment, then decides to cut to the chase. Or part of it, anyway. There's a reason for asking this particular question.]</sub>

Where is this anger coming from?

[likewatson]

[And Harry recognizes Cooper's need to question, to push — Harry's done it, too, with just about everyone he's met. He knows that instinct doesn't go away, that it likely never will.

But that's the kind of rational thinking that's out of Harry's reach right now.]

The sky.

[But even in this state, he realizes that was too sarcastic, too mean. So he draws a breath and steadies himself, then makes a point to unfold his arms and place his hands on his knees, instead.]

Josie's dead and the best explanation you have to offer is that there isn't one. Put yourself in my shoes.

[tapestodiane]

<sub>[That's good. Better than what he was hoping for, anyway, an d it's the result he wanted: communication, or at least the beginnings of it.]

[He doesn't have to put himself in Harry's shoes. He's already been in them. But he doesn't voice that.]</sub>

There is one. I wasn't sure whether or not to let you know.

_{[He misjudged. Even now, though, he's testing; setting out verbal stepping stones.]}

[likewatson]

[Again, Harry thinks of what Coop and Carmen had both said about wanting to know, and then he thinks of what he'd said about needing to. His hesitance in responding may tell Coop that there's some weighing going on on this side, now.

But it's clear that he'll never be able to take that first step toward peace if he's left with unanswered questions. Unfortunately, that clarity does little to ease the anxiety stirring in his gut.]

Tell me.

[tapestodiane]

<sub>[And once the request is made, Cooper can't withhold the information in good conscience. Nor does he want to.]

[He's leaning forward some, now, and watching Harry's face as he lets the words out.]</sub>

When she died, I saw BOB.

[likewatson]

[What Coop will notice first is the way Harry's expression, sturdy and edging on anger as its been, yields immediately to blank fear. His eyes widen, the color drains from his face, and it's probably no surprise that he jumps to the following conclusion:]

Was she —

Like what happened to Leland?

[tapestodiane]

<sub>[Coop, who's had plenty of time to think this over, doesn't look nearly as rattled. But there'll always be something haunted in his eyes when BOB is discussed. Perhaps moreso now, given what happened that weekend before Harry showed up.]

[He shakes his head.]</sub>

No, not like that. For a moment, the other people in the room disappeared. BOB laughed and asked me what happened to her. Then I saw the little man from my dream.

_{[And after that, he'd seen Harry again, cradling Josie's body ... His voice softens notably with what he says next.]}

I wasn't lying when I said there was no way of telling what happened to her, Harry. I can't be sure of what it means myself.

_{[But he does have an idea.]}

[likewatson]

[Hearing as much is a relief, but it's not comforting. Harry focuses on the look in Coop's eyes and suddenly finds himself right there, right back in Twin Peaks, staring at a body count and a chalkboard full of traces to nowhere.

As soon as the tears threaten to spill past his eyelashes, he looks down at the table.

Carmen had asked if it was Johto that had him upset, or something else. The answer is that it's both. It'll always be both, because as long as he's here, he's not where he should be. And he can tell himself he's here for Cooper — here for exactly the reason he just saw in his friend's eyes — until he's as blue as Laura Palmer's body, but he can't quite convince himself that Coop needs him the way Twin Peaks does, or that he needs Coop the way he needs his home.

Now he's stuck forever with the knowledge that the first woman he loved in a long, long time, is dead.

When you strip away everything and get right down to the bone, what has Harry so angry is the simple fact that he loved her so much, he lost sight of just about everything else. He missed things he shouldn't have. And maybe it would have proven impossible to see Laura's death and the domino effect it caused regardless of Josie's role, but that doesn't matter. There's nothing he can do, not anymore.

Who's Harry so mad at?

Himself.]

[tapestodiane]

<sub>["A man who doesn't love easily loves too much." Harry won't remember that, but Coop recalls his own words when he watches the change in him; the vulnerability in the way he looks down, the shine in his eyes, the line of his shoulders broken into a curve.]

[Cooper reaches out - he recalls that, too - and touches Harry's arm in a firm grip that's both a quiet request for his attention and a gesture that's hopefully at least somewhat comforting. There's very little comfort to be found anywhere for Harry when his world has not only cracked with this new knowledge but been exchanged for a completely different one, and Coop's aware of this.]

[But he considers Harry a friend. That has to count for something. All he can do is try to show it.]</sub>

[likewatson]

[If this were happening in front of anyone else, Harry might shy away from the contact, shrug away the hand — I don't need you — but something about the firmness in Coop's touch grounds him in a way that gives him pause. The tears don't stop, but the spiral downward slows in its descent.

He takes a shuddering breath and looks up, not quite meeting Coop's eyes.]

She made me so happy.

[tapestodiane]

I know.

<sub>[He wants to add to that, wants to point out the grief she caused as well; not just in this mess with him, but her dishonesty and charades and disappearances. She'd taken pieces of Harry with her each time she'd left him without an answer.]

[Maybe one day Harry will see it that way, too. Cooper hopes so. It'll help him let her go and reclaim himself.]

[But for now, he knows that voicing any of that won't cause anything but a mess. Besides, he can't argue, can he?]

[The answer is no. Not really. He'd gotten there in time to see things fall apart - had entered Twin Peaks because things were falling apart - Josie included. It's not a stretch to imagine there being happiness before he drove past that sign.]


[What he can do, and does do, is shift: moves his chair closer so he can put his other arm around Harry's shoulders in a halfway hug, letting that first grip remain.]</sub>

[likewatson]

[It's been said that there's a time and place for everything. Harry's fairly certain that Christmas Eve in the middle of Albert's house is not the proper setting for this, but there's some relief in unraveling. He's been poised on the edge for far too long, anyway — everyone gives in sooner or later, in one way or another, and a beckoning hand can only be ignored for so long before it's followed.

He twists in his chair, wrenching his arm from Coop's hand so he can instead bury his face against his friend's shoulder.

Grief is a selfish emotion. No matter what Harry may think — she was so young, it's not fair, she didn't deserve to die — in the end, he's not as sorry for Josie as he is for himself. And if he's surrendering control to greed in this way already, he might as well give in completely and take more than what's been offered while he can get away with it — one broken sob later, Coop may feel tears leaking through his shirt as Harry presses into the bony curve of his shoulder.]