Holiday Musings:

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Just Old Al
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Holiday Musings:

Post by Just Old Al »

In the Alexander household, the holiday started at sunset on the 20th of December.

Al, who had not celebrated Yule for years, felt the urge to do so again. The past few years, so full of grace and wonder, simply filled his heart to the bursting point, and he had to give thanks for it. Here, at the Solstice, he could thank his Gods for the years that had passed, and the wonders that could come with the new year.

So, in the light of the dying sun, he went to a small table that had been set up at the back of the house facing in the direction of the setting sun.

On it were offerings – bread, fruit, flowers – the edibles would be given to the forest friends when he was done. Also there was a wreath of mistletoe and holly, a small log of wood and candles. Solemnly, he lit the candles one by one as the light dimmed and finally faded, reciting the prayers to himself as he had not done for so many years. The stillness of the night, and the stars above lent a poignancy to his simple ritual, stripped to the bone from the elaborate practices of others.

From the kitchen, Daisy watched him. Behind her, Cinnamon stood as well, also silently observing the scene.

“I forget, sometimes, where he’s been, and what he’s done, and the path he’s taken that brought him here.” Daisy said, musing to herself more than anything else.

“He’s seen things, done things and been places we could never understand, and would probably make us sick. On the surface, he’s just an old soldier, almost a parody of himself. But seeing this, and knowing him – there’s so much more.

I’ll never understand him.”

Cinnamon spoke up. “Momma, what you just said shows you do understand him. There’s a lot there and as you say we’ll never understand him, or it. But he is the man you love, and married. Did you ever think about joining him in his rituals?”

Surprised, Daisy turned to her daughter. “Yes, I did. I asked if he wanted me to join him. He said no. As he said, “You have your Path to the gods, and I have mine. Be true to yourself, not to what you think I need.”

Cinnamon laughed. “He’s an odd one.”

“Yes he is.”

Ritual over, Al scattered the fruit and the bread over the snow – the little ones would enjoy it. Extinguishing the candles, he took them up along with the log and the wreath and brought them indoors.

Walking to the fireplace in the great room, he set the log in the hearth on a bed of tinder and ignited it. The wreath of holly and mistletoe went onto the coffee table, and the candles into a box on the shelf for when they were next wanted.

Finishing, he rubbed his hands together and shivered. Turning to his much-beloved bride (who had followed him) he asked, “Time for a cuppa before dinner, love? It’s a bit cold out there – these short days never warm up.”

*~*~*~*~*

On the morning of the 25th, the household awoke as it had the year before – slowly, languorously, and in no hurry to move at all.

There were few people in the big house. Edward and Rosalita had given their staffs the day off, as there were few in residence and these they could easily serve themselves.

Cinnamon was home, but Rowdy was not – he had gone to Hyde Park, VT to spend the holiday with his companion’s family. He was expected back before the New Year, and would catch up with the family then.

Daisy woke, warm and utterly comfortable, wrapped around her lover. Unwilling to move but driven by necessity she slid out of bed and to the en-suite. Al still slumbered, beginning to show signs of wakefulness but not aware yet.

Donning her robe, she slipped downstairs to the kitchen and started coffee. While it brewed she gathered a tray – scones, jam, clotted cream, and condiments for the coffee, now finished. A thermal pot and crockery joined the savoury contents of the tray, and she carried it back to the bedroom.

Setting the tray down on the table, she poured and prepared two cups of Kona (brewed strong, with cream and Demara sugar). Returning to the bed with the cups, she set one down on the nightstand, sipped from the other and watched the show.

Al’s nostrils twitched as the scent of the coffee reached him. His eyes opened, slowly, reason returning to them as he blinked. Sitting up, he reached over, snagged the cup and took a long draught of the contents, then a smaller one. Sighing with contentment, he looked at his dam, thinking How did I ever become so lucky?

She returned to the tray, split and prepared two scones, and carried them back to the bed, setting them down on the nightstand. Climbing back in, she settled down snuggled against her husband, and reached out an arm for a scone.

Both spoke. “Merry Christmas-“ then laughed.

“You first.”
“No, you. Go on, then.”
She sighed, snuggled in closer, and commenced to eat her scone, utterly content in the embrace of her husband. Al looked down on her, relishing the sight of her – his wife. What a wonderful word – wife. So much held in four small letters.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Nothing, really. Dinner this evening, and Buck, Kat and the kids will be over. Other than that, nothing. Just you and me. Cinnamon won’t be out of bed till late – she’s been working hard and is going to sleep in, most likely.”

“Anything on your mind, dear?”

“No, meduck. Nothing at all. I just thank the gods for being here, with you, and for everything we have together.”
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Sgt. Howard
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Sgt. Howard »

Greg caught the first rays of sunlight on the morning of the 25th- the sensation stirred him to consciousness. Slowly he looked around at the old clock on the opposite wall and squinted to read the time- 0754- then hunted up his bifocals on the desk next to his side of the bed. Next to him, Annie snored gently. Greg slipped out of bed and relived himself in the small bathroom off the bedroom- then he softly padded down the hallway and to the kitchen where he started coffee and hog jowls. After the jowls were fried up properly and cooling on a paper towel, Greg shifted to the flat griddles and did a light sauté of four corn tortillas while he fluffed up four beaten eggs. Tortillas and jowl were dispersed between two plates and the whipped eggs were split between two griddles, topped with cheese and mushrooms flopped over to make a simple pair of omelets. These also made it to the plates with a decent dollop of some rather hot salsa. Greg then poured two cups of coffee and doctored them with grated 'Abuelita' chocolate and peppermint oil.

A sound of creaking floorboards announced the approach of Annie- the scent of breakfast alerted her to the efforts in the kitchen. She plopped down in front of the tree as Greg served her coffee first- then the plate followed. A simple grace was offered and the two tucked in- neither being particularly articulate BC (before coffee).

"What is on the agenda for the day, pretty Lady?" Greg asked.
"Um... Yitzak will be here with James and Andrew for Christmas Dinner... that's about it..."
"Good thing I figured a kosher spread... and your boys don't mind at all,"
I remember the first time I served them matzoball soup," Greg mused, "James wouldn't have anything to do with it until he finally tasted it... then he declared we should have it every day."
"You know, I miss them under foot. I do. James started second grade from this house- it seems so weird that he's out on his own now. And Andrew... he's only eighteen, dammit!"
"And he is doing just fine, Dear... both of them are... but they are coming home for Christmas. You're still 'Mom' and they still call me 'Dad'... they are ready and able, and it is time for them to find their own space,"
"That doesn't mean I have to like it... "
"Well, maybe you'll like this... " Greg offered he a package the size of three shoeboxes side-by-side. Annie took it and was surprised by the weight- thing weighed a ton, whatever it was! Opening the wrapping, she read the 'Thompson TA510D' nomenclature on the box!
"OH! You SILLY MAN!! You DID! You got me a rattletrap!!! Is this the one with the Banjo?"
"Yes dear, and if you look in your stocking, you will find three 30 round magazines as well- along with an assortment of maple candies, peppermint bark and a ripe orange."
"But... dearest, we weren't supposed to worry about presents this year,"
"That's right- and we didn't- I bought one for each of us!" and Greg produced another identical package, "That way, we didn't have to worry about it."
"You obnoxious shit!" she giggled,"... consecutive numbers?"
"Of course,"
Opening the box, Annie pulled out a semi-automatic version of the famous Thompson sub-machinegun of another era- 10.5" barrel, no buttstock and horizontal grip. Also in the box was the wind-up 50 round drum magazine- the 'Banjo'- Annie wasted no time locking the bolt back and inserting the ponderous drum. Striking a pose in her chair, she asked 'Whatcha think, Honey?"
"I think you could bully Ma Barker into a corner," Greg laughed, "Finish yer brekkie an' we can break them in on those steel targets I welded last week."
"Is THAT what you were making them for? I was wondering..."

About half an hour later, Joyce Breummer was enjoying a happy, quiet family Christmas with her husband and two sons, when suddenly the rapid fire of heavy pistol ammo rolled down the valley, spooking her horses and disrupting the domesticity of the day. Sprinting out into her front yard while still in bathrobe, she braved the Winter cold and bellowed at the top of her lungs,
"DAMN YOU GREG HOWARD!!!"
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Dave
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Dave »

Sgt. Howard wrote:Greg slipped out of bed and relived himself in the small bathroom off the bedroom-
Y'know, I had a feeling that Greg was one of the Undead, and had to renew his "look normal to the living" medication periodically, but I don't think we'd ever seen this confirmed in print before.

Nice to have that issue clarified.

The man definitely has good taste in "for the living" breakfasts, I must say.
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Just Old Al
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Just Old Al »

Dave wrote:
Sgt. Howard wrote:Greg slipped out of bed and relived himself in the small bathroom off the bedroom-
Y'know, I had a feeling that Greg was one of the Undead, and had to renew his "look normal to the living" medication periodically, but I don't think we'd ever seen this confirmed in print before.

Nice to have that issue clarified.

The man definitely has good taste in "for the living" breakfasts, I must say.
Miserable git. You start making undead jokes and there are two quasi-Feds who will want to...talk... to you.

Remember them? Sharp pointy fangs?

I thought you would. :)
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by jwhouk »

"You know, we really should get that woman some sort of sound dampening wall for her property."

Agent Billens sipped his hot cocoa infused with salted caramel, and considered his cell phone. He briefly brought up the phone number for Glytch, but then paused.

"Nah. Besides, watching this is more fun." He swiped off the cell and put it back in his pocket before taking another sip of his drink.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by FreeFlier »

Sgt. Howard wrote:. . . About half an hour later, Joyce Breummer was enjoying a happy, quiet family Christmas with her husband and two sons, when suddenly the rapid fire of heavy pistol ammo rolled down the valley, spooking her horses and disrupting the domesticity of the day. Sprinting out into her front yard while still in bathrobe, she braved the Winter cold and bellowed at the top of her lungs,
"DAMN YOU GREG HOWARD!!!"
Odd . . . you'd think she and the horses would be used to it by now . . .

--FreeFlier
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Just Old Al
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Just Old Al »

FreeFlier wrote:
Sgt. Howard wrote:. . . About half an hour later, Joyce Breummer was enjoying a happy, quiet family Christmas with her husband and two sons, when suddenly the rapid fire of heavy pistol ammo rolled down the valley, spooking her horses and disrupting the domesticity of the day. Sprinting out into her front yard while still in bathrobe, she braved the Winter cold and bellowed at the top of her lungs,
"DAMN YOU GREG HOWARD!!!"
Odd . . . you'd think she and the horses would be used to it by now . . .

--FreeFlier
Trains...yes. Motor traffic...yes.

Large-bore weapons fire? Uhhhhh...no.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by FreeFlier »

Just Old Al wrote:
FreeFlier wrote:
Sgt. Howard wrote:. . . About half an hour later, Joyce Breummer was enjoying a happy, quiet family Christmas with her husband and two sons, when suddenly the rapid fire of heavy pistol ammo rolled down the valley, spooking her horses and disrupting the domesticity of the day. Sprinting out into her front yard while still in bathrobe, she braved the Winter cold and bellowed at the top of her lungs,
"DAMN YOU GREG HOWARD!!!"
Odd . . . you'd think she and the horses would be used to it by now . . .
Trains...yes. Motor traffic...yes.

Large-bore weapons fire? Uhhhhh...no.
I'd expect large-bore weapons fire to be a routine occurrence when you live near a madboy gunsmith . . . or am I getting people confused here?

Besides, it's only 45 ACP. Now if it was .50 BMG . . .

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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Dave »

FreeFlier wrote:Besides, it's only 45 ACP. Now if it was .50 BMG . . .
Things will be much worse if they ever invite Phix over for a shoot.

She's a Sphinx, and since she's a big cat her weapon-of-choice would naturally be a huge Mauser.
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Just Old Al
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Just Old Al »

Dave wrote: Things will be much worse if they ever invite Phix over for a shoot.

She's a Sphinx, and since she's a big cat her weapon-of-choice would naturally be a huge Mauser.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! HISSSSSSSSSSS!

She'd never use powder weapons...it would be a cat-apult.
"The Empire was founded on cups of tea, mate, and if you think I am going to war without one you are sadly mistaken."
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Dave »

Just Old Al wrote:She'd never use powder weapons...it would be a cat-apult.
Heh! :)

Ever read "Rogue Male"? The protagonist actually made a catgut catapult (well, a to be precise, an improvised cat-skin-powered ballista) which saved his life.
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Sgt. Howard »

Joyce Bruemmer was my supervisor at Three Rivers Hospital until the fire of 2014 took out her property to the basement. She lost everything... including the will to run the Operating Room. She now works as an in-house Nurse and wound up buying a place right down the road from me. She pays less attention to the explosions at my place than she pays to the weather... but as she raises horses, I know how skittish the fool things get with gunfire. HERS ARE GUN TRAINED! I told her how she's included in this fiction and how I have her swearing vengeance for disturbing the peace- she laughs at it. The fact that I am right down the road is something she considers as 'Riot Insurance'.

'Mauser'/ 'CAT a pult'? Really? First off, she would have to fight the urge to chase down any projectile....
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Just Old Al
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Just Old Al »

Sgt. Howard wrote: 'Mauser'/ 'CAT a pult'? Really? First off, she would have to fight the urge to chase down any projectile....
SO, are you saying the Kryptonite of a Sphinx is a laser pointer? :)
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by Sgt. Howard »

Just Old Al wrote:
Sgt. Howard wrote: 'Mauser'/ 'CAT a pult'? Really? First off, she would have to fight the urge to chase down any projectile....
SO, are you saying the Kryptonite of a Sphinx is a laser pointer? :)
That bastardly red dot vexed her again, this time to a vengeance. Skittering over one surface after another in a totally improbable fashion, it went straight to the marble wall opposite the stairway... and sat there...
"I HAVE YOU NOW, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!" Phix swore as she increased her velocity. It would not escape, not this time- it was cornered, it had no egress... and at the last possible nanosecond, Phix suddenly had a flash back about Newtonian physics.

Too late.

The resulting crash was heard throughout the library... felt through the floor in fact. Chunks of marble were strewn over a sizable impact zone, dust was heavy in the air and books were scattered over a sizable radius.

Phix was out cold as a fish.

"You know, Sis, she will figure out who did this," Tsilla commented.
Shutting off the laser pointer, Nudge responded, "Yea... still worth it..."
Rule 17 of the Bombay Golf Course- "You shall play the ball where the monkey drops it,"
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Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by jwhouk »

There's a reason behind this. Trust me.

---

After two days of snow, the weather had finally let up enough that the snow could be cleared - in most areas, anyways. Mostly, it was slushy and wet, but the sheet of white was thick enough that it wasn't going to be going away overnight on Christmas Eve.

The little church in a former roadhouse bar that unknowingly housed a Library portal had a wonderful Christmas Eve service - and despite Sarah's suggestion, they didn't use it to visit friends or family elsewhere.

The pair decided to sleep in on Christmas morning - though Joe had to get up around 8 to put the pork roast in the slow cooker, then make some breakfast for the two of them. Nothing elaborate was exchanged that year - the Range Rover Sport was their Christmas gift, as was that little upgrade that RE made (with help from MIB) to the sound and nav system.

The day was spent lounging around, contemplating the events of the previous year and calling family to wish them Christmas tidings. However, there was an unexpected buzz on the door late that afternoon. Joe, clad in his sweats, socks, and scrub top, went to the speaker to answer the bell.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, it's your favorite agent," came a somewhat forthright voice. "Can I come in? I have some... news."

Sarah had already risen from the couch to peek out the peephole - and she verified the source: "It's Suzi."

The two looked at each other for a moment. Sarah shrugged. Joe rolled his eyes upward - and pressed the buzzer to open the outside door.

Sarah looked back at her husband as she gingerly opened the door. "May we help you?" she asked, somewhat more pointedly than she wanted.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," Suzi replied. That was when Joe noticed the large black jacket and pants that Suzi was wearing. Most people wouldn't pay much attention to such a combination, other than to note that they seemed to be part of a uniform of some type.

Joe, however, noticed the WISCONSIN DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTIONS patch on the one shoulder, and the WIDOC on the side of the right pants leg utility pocket.

"That WAS you I saw on the seniority list!" Joe exclaimed. Suzi just rolled her eyes and then nodded.

"Blame it on Glytch's girlfriend," she retorted. "Director Oduya thought I'd be a good fit to shadow YC Alexander on the job - so he doesn't have another incident happen to him like that one kid."

"You drew the short straw, hm?" Joe asked. Suzi stepped in and onto the shoe rug where her boots weren't seeping into the carpeting.

"More like I was voluntold to do it," she said. "And it kinda looks like we're gonna be neighbors. They got me a one-bedroom up in the second building that I can use as a base. At least I have a garage for the Trans Am."

"Please tell me you're not going to be working third shift," Joe said with trepidation.

"They haven't told me, but it looks like I'm going to be working second most of the time. At least I'm not at the bottom of the list, seniority-wise, thankfully." She thumbed back to the door. "Just got back from doing some observation checks in Dusty's cottage. Couple of kids remembered me from when we were there last year with Cavin. They were pretty quiet for most of the day."

"Most?" Joe's trepidation was now bordering on What the hell did she do now?

"Ah, it was nothing. One of the boys was going to refuse to go in, and I just stepped up and told him that wasn't a good idea. He was... easily persuaded."

"By your words or your dentition?" Joe asked.

"Oh, you know I have a way with these young men," she replied. "Anyways - I have a regular shift tomorrow afternoon, and I gotta touch base with Lily and the kids back in Minnetonka." She looked at Joe for a moment. "You know that Buck got Lily a place at the Gates of Alexander Center? Damn nice layout, and it's para-friendly to boot."

"Complete with pool boys that she can ogle?"

"I haven't asked her. She moves in this week; it was her Christmas present from Kath and the family."

The entire time Suzi and Joe had been talking, Sarah had been staring at both of them - and not, as they say, in a good way. The sudden uncomfortable silence was broken by a beeping noise in the kitchen.

"Oh, that's the oven," Joe explained. "We're having pulled pork roast, and we were just about to put the biscuits in."

Sarah just walked between the two, giving Suzi a bit of a hard stare, before going into the kitchen.

"Uh, well, I guess I better get going," Suzi said, turning back to the door. "Hey, maybe I'll see you around on grounds, then," she added, opening the door slightly.

"Maybe. But don't get any ideas about carpooling. I'm trying to get away from working doubles."

Suzi only smirked a bit, then waved as she headed out. "Oh, and Merry Christmas to you two!"

"Same, yeah," Joe waved as she closed the door.

Something told Joe that the new year was going to be an interesting one.
Last edited by jwhouk on Mon Dec 26, 2016 4:11 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Holiday Musings:

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---

The alarm went off.

The bed, which looked to be a mass of blankets, duvets, pillows and sheets, moved slightly. That is, something underneath the sheets moved slightly, then a determined thrust of one section of the mass moved towards the noise.

The alarm continued buzzing, even as a rustling and groaning came from the moving mass of bedding. Finally, a hand appeared out of the corner of the mass, and then a full arm. It patted the edge of the bed, then the stand next to it. A thud sent a cell phone skittering off into the distance, then finally the hand reached the source of the noise...

...and threw it across the room toward the far wall, where it hit with the force of Ryan Suter slapshot, causing the plaster to give way immediately. Sparks flew as the clock was yanked unceremoniously from its outlet, and the remainder of its existence ended with a loud CRASH that was heard by anyone in a 100 foot radius.

Which included a sleeping form in the other room, whose reverie was interrupted by the sudden hole in the wall between them.

"What the fu..." The form, suddenly bolt-right and awake, screamed as she saw the remnants of the clock lying on the floor. She peeked blearily at the wall, then through the hole.

"Dammit, Mori, I told you to turn the damn alarm off," the figure said, softly at first - then repeating it loudly. "You KNOW how much the landlord charged us when you last threw your clock like that!"

"Don't care" came the mumbled response. "Got some plaster left over, can fix it." In a few seconds, she heard the sound of snoring coming through the wall.

Drey sighed deeply, swinging out of bed. She picked up the remains of the clock - the face was amazingly still in one piece - and carried them out to the garbage can in the kitchen.

"Stupid sister," Drey grumbled. "I was in the middle of dreaming I was flying again. Can't remember to turn the damn alarm off. It's the only day we've had off in weeks."

She stomped back into her bedroom, closing the door in a huff.
"Character is what you are in the dark." - D.L. Moody
"You should never run from the voices in your head. That's how you give them power." - Jin
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Re: Holiday Musings:

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Hmm. I wonder if Santa actually is real. Glytch furrowed his brow as this new implication of the fact that magic was indeed a real thing suddenly surfaced in his mind. And the tooth fairy... And the Easter bunny... And... Hmm. The young man scratched under his casual red hood before slipping on a pair of black sneakers and heading out to his living room, where he had set up a grid of strings not unlike what could be found at a professional archeological dig. But instead of artifacts being unearthed, each square in the grid contained a wrapped gift or bag, each with a card. Glytch glanced at his watch. It was almost midnight...

*VORP*

Several sets of aluminum-nickel-steel alloy horseshoes (the B-2 crystals were very small and homogenous in the rest of the metal), each set wrapped in its own box, were sent to the Alexander Centaurs.
Daisy got an additional necklace chain that Glytch himself had forged, using a custom formula of dwarven mithril reinforced with carbon nanotubes similar to Damascus steel. The surface had been carefully pitted with a swarm of nanites and subsequently coated with buckyballs, creating a "structural color" effect similar to morpho butterflies, hummingbird feathers, or oil on water. It added a flash of color to the otherwise plain (if bright) silver appearance of the mithril. Not only was it enormously strong, it was pretty and a little bit different.
Al got a modern reproduction of an antique watchmaker's toolkit... The handles were lignum vitae, and, if used by skilled enough hands, the tools were perfectly capable of tolerances even the elven sisters would admire.

Atsali got a set of flight goggles based on the snowboarding goggles Glytch had tested out earlier. These were more lightweight, snug, streamlined, and also had a micron-scale roughness inside and out that prevented fogging (condensation merely filled in the roughness - if anything, they would become clearer as they got foggy). The HUD program could be run on her phone, at the expense of losing some of the more advanced features. Glytch offered to work with her on the program to tailor it to her preferences.
Castela got a Monarch butterfly broach/pendant/hair doohickey Glytch had bought for her from a late-night Gem TV show (for really cheap). Onyx, Amber, and mother-of-pearl. He knew she liked putting things on the tie she used on her ponytail, so he figured this might work. If nothing else it was pretty and it reminded him of their first conversation.
Kath received a window garden - it mounted to the inside of any average-sized window or could be hung from a curtain pole, and was a vertical arrangement of herbs and other kitchen-useful plants. The framework of the structure itself was hollow, and incorporated a water funnel at the top and an overflow tank at the bottom... The frame itself contained holes that watered each little pot of herbs and whatnot.

Glytch bought Monica a kangaroo leather holster and high-quality storage case for her grandfather's revolver. Georgette got a gift card from Burger Boat. His card to her specifically mentioned the Leviathan, an enormous and wildly unhealthy yet amazingly delicious burger that used grilled cheeses as the top and bottom bun.

Another hour, and another box disappeared - this one headed to Arizona. Glytch had gotten Yana a gift certificate to Lydia's. He didn't know the model very well, but he figured a gift card would suffice if it came from an awesome, borderline-magic bra shop. He actually had a few correspondences with the owner regarding advanced materials and structural engineering... The connection had been fostered by Monica.

Emerauld received several large pieces of kangaroo leather - the strongest non-magical leather Earth had to offer (to avoid unpredictable magical interference and spell mixtures), and a tub of organic honey butter, churned by Saul the Sasquatch... in a steel vacuum-insulated container made entirely without plastics or harsh artificial chemicals. The butter wouldn't even begin to soften due to warmth for another several days.
Safyr got a tub of garlic butter and a small box containing several glass vials filled with various natural oils and extracts useful in maintaining metal armor, preventing rust and corrosion, squeaking, and smell. There was also another vial containing a mixture of naturally obtained oils and extracts that would polish her turtle-shell shield, as well as rags of various thread-count and poofiness for various levels of cleaning and polishing.
Sterling stumped Glytch. In the end, he didn't really know much about her, so he went for something that might be worth having to an artist: a really good pencil. Glytch designed, fabricated, and assembled a mechanical pencil that took any lead thickness due to an adjustable chuck not unlike those found on electrics drills, would not jam due to a set of grooves and channels in the feeding funnel on the hopper, had a high lead capacity in the hopper, was extremely durable due to its steel construction, and had an ergonomic grip fashioned from silicone, as well as a replacement grip in lignum vitae in case she didn't like the gooshy grips.

Finally, one more hour, and two more boxes *VORP*'d to a residence in the northwest corner of the nation... Sarge got a set of tools much like Al's, but Sarge's were made more for gunwork and other such tasks; equal quality, but sturdier and altogether a bit larger.
Miss Annie, meanwhile, got a metal bracelet... Well, it was almost a vambrace... that clipped snugly onto her left arm. The outer surface was finely engraved in a manner not unlike how Emerauld might have done it, but instead of leaves and vines, the seemingly decorative bracer was engraved with a mountain landscape, reflected by a mirror pool, the line of reflection placed right at the nearly invisible hinge, on the outside of her arm so the engraving was easy to see. The entire thing was composed of the same iridescent nanotube-reinforced dwarven mithril... And Miss Annie would find an instruction note with the gift:
"To calibrate, draw, then holster or sheathe your weapon of choice while saying 'mark.' Repeat three times or until it activates. Will unfold quickly into a gauntlet good for blocking blades, rearranging faces, or otherwise adjusting attitudes. Electrified! Will return to original state when you sheathe or holster the linked weapon. Charge by zapping it with a car battery a few times. It dings when it's fully charged and when it needs to be charged. Merry Christmas."

There were other gifts and cards, but those were the ones that stood out to Glytch. Once everything was on its way, he smiled and sat down at his dinette table and pulled back his red hood before helping himself to a chocolate-chip cookie.

*Poit!*

A pair of gentle hands rested on his shoulders before slowly working their way downward as another pair of objects softly pressed against the back of Glytch's neck, behaving a bit like a contoured neck pillow.
"Hey."
"Hey. Happy holidays, beautiful." Glytch grinned and looked up at Brandi. "It's technically Christmas, so you can open your present from me if you want."
"Ok." Brandi smiled brightly as Glytch stood, pausing briefly to give her a warm kiss, before retrieving a thin, flat, 12"x24" box.
"Here you go."
Brandi eagerly unwrapped it, revealing a rectangular metal plate covered in what at first appeared to be oil paint. However, on closer examination, it turned out to be colored warped crystals... Not glass but actual stone, molten and reshaped and fused together like paint on canvas... Depicting a portrait of Brandi and Glytch in the final moments of their tango together at the Reunion - their first kiss.
Glytch cleared his throat. "I, uh, know there's some challenges with you being a golem and whatnot. And I dunno if I'll be of any help in that department, but I hope to be. And I know you probably have a whole bunch of not-so-nice memories floating around in there and all kinds of reminders of that stuff hanging around in the modern world. So... I figured I'd make a reminder of a good memory and make sure it lasted a good long while, too. Hopefully I can... I dunno. Help balance that all out at least a bit." Glytch scratched the back of his head a bit nervously.
Brandi smiled wide and pulled Glytch into a solid hug, bestowing a passionate kiss before whispering, "Thank you."
"Glad you like it."
"And now I get to unwrap my second gift..."
"Huh?" Glytch felt fingers curl underneath the hem of his shirt. "...Oh."
He's mister GlytchMeister, he's mister code
He's mister exploiter, he's mister ones and zeros
They call me GlytchMeister, whatever I touch
Starts to glitch in my clutch!
I'm too much!
ShneekeyTheLost
Posts: 609
Joined: Tue Jul 31, 2012 4:45 pm

Re: Holiday Musings:

Post by ShneekeyTheLost »

[AN: Written in conjunction with Al. While not a prank on the level of Aluminum Angel, there is some comeuppance to be had here.]

Al was quietly meditating in his garden on a cold Christmas morning. Oddly enough, it was without interruption by certain dryads, which was enough of a Christmas Miracle for him. The past year had been... hectic. Ups and downs don't even begin to describe the events which have happened. But here, with enough snow from the previous night to be decorative, in the quiet just before the sun actually peeks over the horizon, and the sky blushing with the thought of dawn, he was able to compile his thoughts and process.

When he came out of his meditation, he discovered that he was not, in fact, alone. Prroul had decided to also meditate in the garden, it seems, sitting on the ground with apparent indifference to the chill, although he supposed that the fur was sufficient for that. He didn't make any noise, yet Prroul's eyes came open just as he was contemplating trying to quietly egress, and gave Al a friendly smile: one without teeth.

"Good morning, I had not expected to see you until quite a bit later, along with the rest of the revelers."

"Well, old army habits and Reveille at dawn and all that."

"Oh, I anticipated you would be awake by dawn, I just wasn't expecting you out and about until later, what with the new construction to... stress test." Al suspected Prroul did, indeed, have some sort of a sense of humor lurking in there somewhere, but the line was delivered so dead-pat that he wasn't quite sure if it was intended as teasing or serious.

"Ahh, well. What with all that's gone on, it's a good time and place to process it all. Hard to believe how far we've come." Not knowing if it was teasing or serious, he simply changed the topic slightly.

"Indeed. I would not have disturbed your meditations, however since you seem to be done, I have a question concerning something Eme said, referencing a bit of 'pop culture', and I suspect I have been... how is the saying? Ahh yes... 'played'. She was singing a 'Christmas Carol', which she then claimed reminded her of me."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but go ahead. Which one was it?" Al's brain was gearing up, wondering which one would even remotely fit him.

"It is a reference to a 'Mr. Grintch. I gather from the lyrics that he is a somewhat unlikable fellow." Al was privately glad he was not drinking coffee at the time, and so avoided a spit-take. As in control of his features as any non-com, only a tweak of the corner of his mouth betrayed his reaction.

"I..." Al chose his words as carefully as giving a report to a butter bar, while he had nothing but respect for Prroul, there was something inherently intimidating about him that Al didn't want to accidentally upset "... would not have said there is much in the way of similarity. It is a reference to a children's book which was later turned into a picture. It is something of a redemption play, the title character spends around three quarters of the play showing how evil he was, then has a change of heart and spends the last quarter reversing all the evils he did and ending happily ever after."

"Mmmm, perhaps she was teasing me, then. It is almost a shame that I am not able to participate in most mediums of media used these days."

"Just how far exactly does that aura of yours go? I know you blew out that motel room's power, but their construction is... cheap. Bare wires were likely inches from the door frame."

"Well, part of it depends on my state of mind. I don't have perfect control over it, but it normally seems to be within what people these days would say would be my 'personal space'. Arm's reach at best. However, when I enter battle, the radius expands somewhat to perhaps two or three meter radius around me."

"Hmm... and it's just the electromagnetic spectrum and magic, right?" Al's engineering mind simply could not refuse a challenge, and the gears were already turning.

"I believe so. I haven't done much testing with technology to know for sure."

"Then I have an idea on how to be able to show you the flick, and perhaps get a bit of return on Eme for the tease."

Prroul's grin was not quite predatory, but there was a bit of snaggletooth in the grin "Oh? Do tell..."

"Well, the problem is you getting close to the device itself, so that lets out TV, but I bet we could rent a movie theater room. The projector is some ten plus meters away from the audience, and the screen has no kind of wiring at all, except maybe the motors at the top for retraction. If you're interested, I could probably set it up. For that matter, we could probably make a gathering of it, those close to us. Maybe Atsali and her little adopted sister."

"The Blackthorn?"

"...Yes, but please don't refer to her by that. It's a bit of a sore subject, to say the least."

"I can understand. We have something in common, really. We were both built to be weapons, and both of us... objected to that. We met once out in the woods, she was coming to visit Eme and I was present. We had an interesting conversation. If she displays any additional weapon-like abilities which seem out of control, I would be more than willing to assist her in getting full conscious control over them. I was vaguely aware of the project, but it didn't seem like it needed my intervention at the time."

"So, just those you've already met. I may even make it happen this evening, as a Christmas outing. What do you say?"

"I think it would be something quite... interesting. I haven't seen a play since that old Opera House out in Paris burned down... right around the turn of the twentieth century, I believe. And, as you say, everyone there will already be familiar with me, so no security measures will be broken."

"Done, then. I'll see what I can do. And what, pray tell are you planning on doing after?" Al asked with a grin which Prroul mirrored almost exactly, save for a few extra points here and there.

"I think, perhaps, her hats have been a bit too tight lately with all these modern references bantered about. Perhaps it is time to... call her out on it. Oh no, she won't be harmed, but I think, perhaps, a bit of an adrenaline rush would be a perfect way to thank her for all these confusing references these past few months. Call it a holiday gift, if you like."
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