Personification Life, the Universe, & Everything [closed]

[Swith Witherward]

If folks want to go to the Island, that's fine by me. I'd like to finish the scene in the holodeck, though. If we cut it after we finish introductions, we're almost done. I can meet my original goal -- Amanda finding out just how crazy dedicated her husband is -- with a single plost.

Alternatively, if people want to explore holo-Alexandria, the Island could sprout a holodeck/holosuite/holo-it just works because we want it to.

*nods* Yep! Or we could use a backup holodeck/holosuite/holoplotholie for the Island bit.

[Tiltjuice]

Am down with beachcombing if peoples wanna go for it. *nod*

[Mincaldenteans]

Am down with beachcombing if peoples wanna go for it. *nod*

Slow post beachcombing? Sprinkles moar stars and shells ^_^

[Tiltjuice]

Am down with beachcombing if peoples wanna go for it. *nod*

Slow post beachcombing? Sprinkles moar stars and shells ^_^

*nodnods* Hurrah!

[Swith Witherward]

We can do it either way. People would be able to come-and-go if it were on the holosuite, which means their stories aren't paused elsewhere.

It's just... the Island. We've never missed a year, have we?

---

The Island of Ni, much like the Bielefeld nation, was located far off the coast of somewhere that best felt right at that exact moment. Difficult to chart, impossible to fly to without a guide, and isolated from the world's bullshit, it had existed for thousands of years. It was, simply put, unplottable, for those of you of magical talents.

The Island haunt was extremely familiar to many, but for the newer Residents, this was their first glimpse of paradise. It loomed ever nearer as the aircraft made their approach. Their first view was of the steep and ominous cliffs on the far side of this ocean jewel, and the top of a volcano (the raptors' secret not-so-secret lair). These rose up from the sea at a steep angle. The surf crashed heavily at the rocks and boulders which protected the shear wall from eroding away.

Several openings in the jungle contained primitive huts and fire pits - the natives were still there. Anyone with half a brain would realize that killing natives for pleasure was a Bad Thing (*ominous glare at any Luxans, vampires, werewolves or other violent sort*)

The flock of tubs banked and circled around the island, allowing those on board to see her full glory in the rising sun. Sunlight glistened upon the crystal clear waters beneath them. The rays kissed the pristine beaches and then warmed the dense vegetation that served as a backdrop for a row of huts perched between jungle and shoreline. Those huts were a welcomed sight for so many. They were the holiday homes of the Residents. Some stood vacant in anticipation of new owners. Most were already stocked with provisions thanks to the Lads.

Oh these huts! If organic walls could talk, they would weave tales of romance and sorrow, of anticipation and trepidation. The consummation of nuptials and the sleeping off of proper drunken benders! Each Resident had a hut, although some opted to share the dwelling, and each hut was just as cozy as the next. A few inhabited ones still had baubles and decorations placed there by Residents the prior trip. They did not have electricity, however. Candles and oil lamps cast a merry glow each evening. It was only through handwavium magic that the mini-fridges worked.

The cheery huts lined the shore in a neat row which gave everyone reason to visit everyone else. A large pavilion welcomed them all. This was where Residents held their Christmas feast, and where they gathered in the morning to see who was up for adventure. Each night, thousands of twinkling white lights lit up the pavilion. Outside, multicolored Christmas lights illuminated a path that forked into two directions. One led to a large fire pit set up for roasting marshmallows and other things on sticks, and the other path led to a small grotto used for prayer and meditation by some of the Residents. The bonfire pit had been the place of so many fond memories, but it had sat vacant for a long while. The sitting logs were still there, but it lacked firewood. Someone would have to beachcomb for it. Cuisine's tiki bar still stood, though it was in need of dusting. The Lads had stocked it, as promised.

The tubs continued onward, and the morning sun revealed the glint of rusting metal amidst some trees. These once belonged to the Germanic Templars, though nobody would be foolish enough to explore them now. Undoutedly the Emperor had some sort of nefarious security device in place (which is the writer's way of saying "no fairsies, so leave this area alone"). Somewhere in that jungle was the entrance to an old bunker that served as a base for Bones and his brothers. Only Naomi knew of its exact location, though it wasn't hard to find if one were looking for an adventure. Also below were the remains of the Monfroxian compound, although it had been heavily damaged during the Drone Invasion; no weapons were left and the building itself was a husk.

A strange cottage nestled atop an odd rocky outcrop just off the main beach. This was Minerva and Klaus' love next, of course. It was always worth wading the waters for a cuppa, or to see if either were up for adventure.

A small, perfectly round atoll sat just off the main island, its watery center an intensely deep blue in contrast to the white beaches and palm trees surrounding it. There was a compound of sorts… more a series of open buildings interlinked by covered walkways… that faced the island huts. It could only be reached by a thin pathway from beach to atoll, and the visitor would need to wade through ankle deep water if using it.

In the vegetation only a few minute's walking distance to the hub of activity, the tech priests had already sequestered a bunker to serve as their space. This was where FUBAR would lurk, and where Opa could dock, and any androids or cyborgs or robots could receive repairs or escape the sand.

Mer Lagoon, a secretive place cherished by some former Residents, was the last treasure to come into view. The crystal clear waters there revealed the massive form of Pookie the Leviathan swimming from it, craggy spines breaking the water and casting up spray in his wake. Minerva shook her head at the sight of Charumati's weird pet.

A short distance away from all this were wooden platforms constructed right on the beach. These were docks which normally served VTOL craft. The tubs drifted towards them, alighting one at a time to allow people to disembark before floating away to cluster in a vacant stretch of white sand.

[Northwest Slobovia]

We can do it either way. People would be able to come-and-go if it were on the holosuite, which means their stories aren't paused elsewhere.

It's just... the Island. We've never missed a year, have we?

Either is fine with me. I can wrap up the current scene in the holodeck with a plost tomorrow if we want to go, or people can head off to the other holodeck *waves hands airily towards a door which didn't exist before, except it did* if we want to do it that way.

[Tiltjuice]

Island!

[Cerillium]

I'm for Island. It's familiar and allows us to work on strengthening character bonds. Let's face it, most don't socialize anymore. There's no reason to "help" a neighbor if you don't know them (ie finding a connection between characters means players have a reason to participate in your stories).

Also, I hate seeing these threads move so slowly. It's a sign of approaching game death. I can transition us to the Island if people wrap up by tonight (Thursday) or tomorrow afternoon (Friday).

[Northwest Slobovia]

Also, I hate seeing these threads move so slowly. It's a sign of approaching game death.

Nah, it's because we're in limbo. The rebooty-fication started, but because of RL, none of us has anything to work with about it. So, everything is dragging while we wait for the other shoe to drop.

I can transition us to the Island if people wrap up by tonight (Thursday) or tomorrow afternoon (Friday).

The holodeck scene can be cut now, and we'll write our own stuff to go with the overall transition.

[Giovenith]

I can pull something up at the island.

[Monfrox]

It's also the holiday season so many people may be getting ready for family gatherings.

[Tiltjuice]

o/ Cer

Gonna see about coding up some apps.

[Cerillium]

PL: SITREP 22 DEC, 2017 CURRENT IC CONDITIONS Location: Island of Ni Time: 8:30 AM (0830 hours) Weather: 81 °F / 27 °C Precipitation: 23% Humidity: 75% Wind: 2 mph Forecast: Clear skies IC Kickoff Post: viewtopic.php?p=33134107#p33134107 CURRENT GAME EVENTS NONE - Holiday PLAYER-SUGGESTED EVENTS FOR THE ISLAND Christmas dinner Hunt for interesting stuff Big bonfire (we usually do this during the week leading up to the New Year) OP/CoOP STUFF Please read IC and OOC posts prior to posting. It saves confusion over time of day, weather, etc. As always, please don't advance time in your posts. Archive: It's woefully lacking character bios. Please make sure you'll filled out a new application. Posting: It's freeform through the New Year. Players can post less than 3 lines if engaged in conversation. Physical Limitations: Some characters, such as Desmond, have physical limitations outside of the Building. For the duration of the holiday, Klaus' magic will allow them to ambulate without too much trouble (would be just like the Building's magic). COOP Away: Swith is taking the next week off, posting when she can while she recovers. Min is on holiday. Tilt is in HK, or will be shortly. Stories: Players are encouraged to run their own silly stories. Please keep collabs to a minimum. I'd prefer short posts rather than long stretches without any posts.

[Monfrox]

I'm gonna work on getting a Christmas feast happening, but people are free to do whatever. I'm not looking to hold people up if they want to do Christmas adventures. It would actually help if characters went off to do such things so that they could come back to see everything laid out for them all suddenly and have it be a surprise.

[Swith Witherward]

Yay Mon!

I still haven't figured out what to do. It was a long day for me. Meh... lemme sleep on it and see what I can think up for Christmas Eve.

[Swith Witherward]

ANNUAL CHRISTMAS ONE-SHOT... with a twist.

"Well?" the figment of Charumati stirred in the corner of my mind. Brushing the lingering cobwebs from her shoulders, she settled down on a stack of fading memories to take stock of my apathy.

I... don't know what to write. It's an honest approach, though it's not one I pride myself on.

"Yes, but it's Christmas."

Well, duh. It's Christmas for much of the world but, for me, it hasn't been much of a holiday season. The house is barely decorated. I've had to bow out of most of the traditional holiday events. I didn't even set the nativity up this year... and that is where my inspiration for each year's one-shot comes from. This stuff doesn't write itself, you know.

"It doesn't?" the avatar's mouth curled itself into smugness.

Of course it doesn't. I can't seem to recapture it. Hans feels like an overly-stretched leather glove. Neste sits neglected due to guilt. Nila has lost her cheerful warble. It's been an oppressive year for me as a writer. I've lost my spark.

"More like you allowed others to dim in," frowned the avatar. "Suck it up, buttercup. This is tradition."

No! And you know what, Charu? Go fuck yourself. I am NOT writing a Christmas one-shot. I am NOT, do you hear me? You can't make me. I don't care about tradition. In fact, as far as I'm concerned... oh jesus god, Charu, what are you-

29 November 2012
Christmas would be interesting. Swith could try to figure out what's so special about celebrating the birth of the Christian God.

--

"Isn't that pretty?" Naomi smiled. "It seems to humble and peaceful." She added a small plastic sheep to the manger.

"I don't get it," Swith grumbled, gnawing on the other plastic sheep. "What the f*ck is this supposed to represent? It's a filthy barn."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "It's not a barn, it's a stable, Swith. Jesus came to earth, not to rule it like a physical king, but to offer Salvation to mankind. He would later die for their sins. It's the ultimate and most selfless act of love that any god could give. Where's your holiday spirit?"

"The only holiday I care about is Zalgofest," Swith spat out a plastic sheep leg. "And it's a barn. Animals sh*t there."

"Humble beginnings, really, for something so precious," Naomi said patiently, annoyed at Swith for ruining yet another holy day. "There's Mary. She's the blessed Mother who bore the Christ child into the world. And Joseph, who followed God's will and cared for Mary. And the shepherds, to whom the angels appeared to herald the birth of the Savior. And the wise men, who followed the star to Bethlehem and saw the truth of God's blessing, and didn't betray the Christ child to King Harod. And then there's the beautiful baby Jesus Himself, swaddled in blank- hey! Where's the baby? OH MY GOSH! NVE! Get that out of your mouth!"

"I was there. It didn't happen that way," Swith picked up a plastic camel and sampled its head.

Naomi smacked NVE with a newspaper and retrieved the plastic baby from his mouth. "Stop it. I don't care. It's CHRISTMAS, damn it. It's IMPORTANT to people like Thriller and others who follow Elohim. You are all TERRIBLE. Why can't you respect other people's right to celebrate the birth of their Savior? You're all assholes." Naomi stormed off, crying in frustration.

"I got her socks for Christmas, "Swith whispered to NVE, and then finished eating the plastic camel

Oh God, NVE! We used to have so much fun together! He was hilarious! It's like everything he did with his characters was one epic pratfall after the other.

6 Dec 2013

Naomi added a new plastic camel to the nativity scene and smiled at the Baby Jesus (which still bore the impression of Raptor teeth along his toes). Most of the pieces had survived. The little plastic sheep was missing its leg, but Naomi had used a toothpick to get it to stand upright again. She stepped back to admire her work and then quickly moved to protect the whole thing as Swith walked into the room.

"Eh? Oh shit, is it that time of year again? Stupid Christian holidays." The god sucked her front teeth and squinted at the display.

"They aren't stupid," Naomi protested, "Don't you come near my nativity!"

Swith glared at her. "I don't know why you don't trust me."

"I don't trust you because you don't respect Christmas! You practically ruined it last year."

"I didn't ruin it. I made that fancy dinner, didn't I, and I helped decorate. That whole stupid party was my idea." Swith crossed her arms and tipped her nose up at the indignity of Naomi's implication.

Naomi stomped her foot. "You ate my plastic camel!"

"You didn't say I couldn't."

It was a fair retort. Technically, Naomi hadn't said a thing about not consuming the holiday decor last year. None-the-less, Naomi wasn't having any of it this year. "You don't respect the meaning of Christmas, you don't respect my manger scene, and you don't even bother to pay attention to the significance of Elohim's gift to Mankind. So... so..."

Swith's eyebrow raised. "I believe the words you're looking for are 'fuck' and 'off', dear."

Naomi's dread further increased as two small forms entered the room and flocked to their mother's side. Their eager faces peered at the weird little things grouped on the table. They looked at Naomi and smiled. "Can we play dolls with you, Aunt Naomi?"

"Those aren't dolls." The response had come from Swith. She settled Siduer on her hip and then lifted Sydney to the other. Ignoring Naomi's sputtering and wild hand waving, she approached the nativity and allowed the twins to see it more clearly.

"This is special to your father," Swith told them, "so you need to pay attention to the story and show respect. Do you remember what Daddy told you about Christmas? This is a representation of that day, but it's not accurate. Medieval writers fucked it up and modern Christians miss the symbolism involved. They don't see the gifts Mankind exchanged with Elohim."

She adjusted the twins on her hips and sighed. "According to the story, Mary and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem. There wasn't room anywhere for them. They were forced to stay outside the city during a time period where walls kept out thieves and brigands. It was very dangerous. Thus came the first Gift: Compassion. A man took pity on them and allowed them to stay in his stable.

"Now about those shepherds. Shepherds aren't nocturnal. They set watches because of the wild animals and because thieves would make off with their sheep. When the angels spoke to them, they ran to see this miracle. Their hope was the genesis of the second Gift: Good Will. They put aside their own issues and needs and saw to it that another's needs were taken care of. No evil-minded men or wild animals would harm the family with those watchmen gathered around the stable. Your gift of Good Will... getting off your ass and doing something... allows others to survive hard times.

"The Wise Men. Three men, considered great scholars, traveled far to see this child. They arrived much later, but bore gifts. You might think these gifts were the Gift, but they weren't. The Gift itself was Charity. Mary and Joseph would lose everything because of their flight to Egypt. The gifts given to them would aid them along the way, and pay for their food and shelter while Joseph sought to establish himself. Never hesitate to give to the poor. Your generosity might help that person regain his life, which will allow him to provide for his family.

"Compassion, Good Will and Charity are Gifts from the Heart. This ties in with a message told much later in the story. Remember the story Daddy told you? This baby grows up to be a man. He was challenged by a Pharisee one day who tried to trap him with regard to Elohim's laws. He asked him, "Well, what is the greatest Commandment in the Law." And Elohim's son replied, "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

"When Daddy offers Compassion, Good Will and Charity to others, think of them as his effort to keep the greatest Commandments and his determination to continue his pledge to exchange Gifts with Elohim. That is how Mankind honors Elohim and helps his fellow Man, his neighbor."

Naomi balked. "Why did you take the time to learn that?"

"I married a Catholic," Swith quipped. "My only problem with Christmas is that so many Christians get hung up on "Jesus is my gift and the reason for the season" that they forget all about the gift exchange. Anyway, Merry Christmas." She shrugged and set the twins down.

Naomi watched her leave and shook her head. She looked at the nativity, wondering where in the hell Swith came up with that stuff. And then she noticed that the new plastic camel was missing.

"HA! I thought-"

Not one word, Charu. Not one. It was poor planning on my part, yes. Didn't I salvage it by practically writing the twins out over time?

"Excuse me? I never asked you to, you know," the avatar's brows narrowed momentarily, relaxing a few seconds later as she chewed over her thoughts. "Actually, I can't harbor any resentment. That was during treatment. You were barely there, girl."

Thank you for remembering.

"There's a lot I remember, even when you don't, Aut."

24 Dec 2014

"Oh, ew, tsk! What is this?" Fram gingerly plucked a candy-stuffed Christmas stocking from the fireplace mantel and held it up. "The fuck, ladies? We don't put food in socks."

The "ladies" were Naomi and Swith. Both were crowded around the kitchen table, a pile of presents nearby and wrapping paper tubes, scraps of paper, bows, ribbons and tags littering the entire area. It was a festive, colorful and glittery mess that Giovenith would have been proud of.

"Shut up, Fram," Swith growled to her lustful counterpart. "It's Christmas. Ho, ho, ho and all."

"Did you just call me a ho?" Fram snapped peevishly.

"You are a ho," Naomi gently reminded him.

Fram snorted and tossed the stocking on top of the mantle. "Yes, darling, but you needn't point it out."

He sashayed across the living room to observe the little manger in the corner. It was fairly beat up after all these years. The little Mary figurine had a small chip to her base. Joseph's staff and entire left hand was missing. The plastic sheep all bore teeth marks and one had a toothpick in place of its missing leg, and the camel was missing (having been eaten the first year). Fram leaned over to peer at the empty manger. "Why are these people gathered around a slop troth?"

"It's a manger," Naomi chimed. "For the baby."

Fram slapped a palm to his chest. "The baby? The fuck? Is it alive when they eat it? Nasty old sweets in nasty old stockings. Mutilated farm stock-"

"Blame that on Swith."

"- and damaged people. This is a stupid holiday."

"Now you wait just one moment," Swith slammed down the tape dispenser and brandished a pair of scissors at the Chaos god. "You celebrated the holiday before. You damn well know all about the nativity. I don't see why you have to stand there like some bristling bitch queen and mock everything joyful and innocent. You corrupt everything. I have children and they like Christmas and if you ruin it, I'll snip your balls and serve them in a glass of rancid eggnog. I won't have you mock it. I won't tolerate you mocking any pantheon. I won't have it. You don't know shit about this holiday."

Fram snorted and crossed his arms. "The problem with you, Swith, is that you celebrate the wrong things at the wrong time."

He gracefully lowered himself into the stuffed wing chair and crossed his legs. "Let's not get into Nordic belief. Instead, let's look at Rome. In Rome, the divinity of the Sun came very early on; and then, centuries afterwards, in the superb dome of Hadrian's Pantheon, the central opening, surrounded by star-like rosettes, represented the solar orb....Before long, the emperor Aurelian established a massive temple of the Unconquerable Sun as the central and focal point of the entire religious system of the state. The birthday of the god was to be on December 25, and this, transformed into Christmas day, was one of the heritages that Christianity owed to his cult. Christianity took over the birthday of the sun god, the cult of the sun, and transformed it into CHRISTMAS DAY, the "birthday" of Yeshua the Messiah! It was in reality the birth day of the pagan sun god, worshipped by millions throughout the Roman Empire! The fuck is wrong with all you people?"

The nut bowl rattled as Fram fished out the pistachios. "Pointless holiday celebrated by misguided and misinformed followers."

"You're wrong," Swith placed the scissors onto the table and leaned against the edge. "The point isn't all the trappings or the time of year. The point for Christians is to commemorate the gift exchange between Elohim and Mankind. Compassion, Good Will and Charity are Gifts from the Heart, and Mankind exchanged them with Elohim that Christmas Day. His gift would blossom into Salvation. I won't go into it, you know I hate preaching, but I also think you should show a little respect. The actual day doesn't matter. People are entitled to their beliefs. If you have problems with Elohim or his followers, I suggest you leave. We have several Christian Residents... and I invited Yeshua for dinner."

Naomi clapped her hands like a small, excited child. "Bully for Swith! What time will he be here?"

"Dunno," Swith shrugged. "Lucifer's dropping him off. They were going to stop by Odin's on the way to pick up some mead."

Tsss. Yeah, that was round two for treatment. Nobody said remission was guaranteed. We got through that pretty alright, Charu.

"You did, thanks to the Asian Lug," Charu folded her hands and offered a knowing smile. "And Bones. Tilt, too, and Gio. Prim, Bran, NVE, still there. Also new players breathing life into new characters that populate my dingy world. They've enriched my fictional world."

They really mean the world to me, actually. Our little PL family kept growing. Even the ones that no longer played still kept in touch. During those two years, my life had slowed to a halt. I felt paused in time, focused on only one real world objective. Meanwhile, they carried on with their schooling or work, growing as people with each passing month. They allowed me to see the real world through their eyes, and kept the magic alive in our fictional world.

"Fictional?"

Yes, Charu. Oh, it contains elements from our real lives, but it's our imaginations that empower the real magic within those IC threads.

"Unless people become fuckwhistles incapable of seperating the character from the player. You know, Aut, I was much happier when I was still "Swith, the personification of Swith Witherward. I hated being called Charumati."

Well, we moved away from "personfications" years ago, and you had died. We needed a way to distinguish you from the old concept.

"Oh stop. Fuck these 'concepts'. Is Giovenith not still Giovenith?"

Point goes to the crass figment of my imagination! God, I'd forgotten all about the original concept... and how fun it was for all of us! We checked in each day just to see the stupid shit other players had woven into the setting. The abductions, the mini wars in the halls, the really lame attempts at romance. It was all so absolfuckinglutely fun! And the humor! Oh man, shit was funny back then, eh Charu? I used to love reading the tongue-in-cheek stuff. Writing my one-shots felt like recapturing a year's worth of insanity!

The avatar squinted to better peer through Ren's ghastly cigarette smoke (he refuses to go outside tonight!) "Are you teary eyed?"

Yep. This happens every Christmas Eve, along with sniffles. I'm convinced I'm allergic to this stupid holiday. If it wasn't for the Sprite, I wouldn't have set up anything this year. I really don't see the point. I'm a frikken atheist.

25 Dec 2016

She almost threw the cheap nativity away last year. She vowed to never set it up again. The cardboard stable was frayed, the sheep were chewed up and had toothpick legs, the camel never lasted a year, and the baby bore NVE’s teeth marks. Even Marcus had rolled his eyes and asked her why she kept it. Why bother at all?

Naomi had asked herself that very question while digging the box out of the closet the night before. Charumati was gone and Naomi was divorced. Thaddeus finally had what he wanted – solitude. Wren was far away; Marcus worked and spent his spare time with his girlfriend; Argus was a stranger to him.

“It’s here because Tradition,” Naomi lifted Argus from his playpen so he could better see the manger scene. “Because the first year, I yelled at your Auntie Charu and Uncle Neil for not keeping Christmas, and the second year I learned that she wasn’t as tuned out as I thought, and the third year she chewed on your Uncle Fram. Because you don’t have to believe in something in order to appreciate the stories behind it. Because it’s a nice story, too. I don’t have to believe a turtle carries the world on his back in order to fancy a picture of him doing it, right?”

Argus burbled laughter as she perched him on her hip. She was hard pressed to keep him from snatching up the plastic figures.

“We keep Christmas because we like it,” she poked his nose with her finger to distract him from the sheep. “Elisabeth Cornwell said that. She also said celebration does not belong solely to the pious, and I must agree. Christmas is a perfect time to remember family and friends who are no longer with us. She says they stay with us in loving memory, and we celebrate how much richer our lives are because they were a part of us, shaping us, and making us better for knowing them. It’s not all about presents and Santa, or whether or not you believe a baby in a manger is the son of a god. We put up this manky old manger with its chewed up figures because there are wonderful memories tied to it. The people involved were good people, and they left their marks upon our hearts just as readily as they did the plastic sheep.”

Naomi looked down at the crèche and sighed. “So, even though they’re either gone or far away, they’re still here with us thanks to Tradition. Maybe you’ll set this old manger up someday, when you’re older and have your own children. Maybe they’ll ask you why the sheep have toothpick legs. You can pass the stories on to them, the really good ones about compassion and goodwill and charity among friends and loved ones, and let those stories help shape them and enrich their lives.”

She peered into the manger and then plucked the baby from the straw. “Let me tell you about the time your Uncle Neil ate Baby Jesus…”

"I miss NVE," the avatar murmured. "And Bran. You interact with the players, Aut. I interact with the bits and fragments they pour into their characters. Those bits are eternally a part of us, just like your one-shot manger is as vital to tradition as the real one you kept in the box this year."

...put up this manky old manger with its chewed up figures because there are wonderful memories tied to it. The people involved were good people, and they left their marks upon our hearts just as readily as they did the plastic sheep.

Ouch.

"And where did the 'merry Swithmas' go? No santa hat on your avatar this year," Charu crossed her arms and tossed a professional pout towards me. "It's like you've forgotten all the lessons you crafted every year. Demens bless us, but I liked you better when you had brain fog."

25 Dec 2016

They stood in the darkened room. No words passed between them. There wasn’t any need, really. Their eyes took in the careworn manger scene resting upon white felt snow. Illuminated by a single candle placed beside it on the dresser, it brought to mind the chance for peace on earth.

This was the first year that Naomi didn’t feel the need to retell the Christmas story. Everyone had heard it by now, and all the people she would want to tell it to were gone. Or out. Or just too busy. There were no Raptors gnawing on the Baby Jesus, nor little children to explain things to. It was just Naomi and Charu.

Naomi’s eyes flickered over the scene. Virgin Mary and old Joseph, and the Baby - check. Three Wise Men - check. Shepherds - yep. And six sheep - sure thing. The donkey rested just inside the candle’s glow, and the camel-

“Charu! Are you chewing the camel?”

“Noph,” the avatar replied.

Naomi thrust a cupped hand towards her. “Spit it out. Now.”

The camel landed wetly in Naomi’s palm.

“You never let me have any fun,” Charu wiped drool strands from her chin.

“Is it too much to ask for one violence-free Christmas? Just one damn year without this shit?!” Naomi scrubbed the spit off the figurine and then placed it next to the sheep with toothpick legs. Her voice sounded more fatigued than usual. “Listen, it’s been a shitty year. Just… a really shitty year, Charumati. Let’s let it end without further vexing each other. M’kay?”

Charu regarded Naomi with narrow eyes. No sermon? No cute retelling of the bible story? Not even a pretend chastisement? “Alright,” she sounded more than a little apprehensive of her companion’s unexpected behavior. Things weren’t right. Not anymore. In fact, things were absolute hell recently. How the fuck was Naomi even getting through it all?

“Naomi?”

“Yes, Charu?”

“Would you like me to tell you the Christmas story? The good one, not the one I slaughter just to annoy the fuck out of you. We can make some hot chocolate afterwards.”

Naomi’s brows knitted together. She turned to face her other half, tears brimming but not falling. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Because you love Christmas.”

Charu slipped an arm around her companion’s waist, pulling her close. Gone were Perfection’s pride and ego, and the perpetual taunts and mockery that always seemed poised on Charu’s tongue were laid aside. Instead, Charu used her power to grant a gift. For a moment, in that dark room lit only by a single candle, Naomi touched a moment of genuine peace. The tears came to her then, moistening her companion’s chest as the young god buried her face against the elder.

“It goes like this,” Charu wrapped her arms more tightly around Naomi as she whispered into her ear, “In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world…”

Well... that was dreadful. That really was a rough year for PL. Player upheaval. Character deaths. We missed out on a lot of fun opportunities because we were all caught up in OOC... wait, what on earth are you doing, Charu?

"I'm digging out the PL nativity box. Oh ho, keep the real one tucked away. The one we use here requires no unpacking." She pulled a box from under a pile of pristine catalogs. "You may not want to write it, but I want to see it again."

25 Dec 2016

“Why do the sheep have toothpick legs?”

It was a fair question. Marcus lowered his magazine to regard his little brother. Argus stood on his tiptoes, his fingertips blanching as he tried to lift himself higher to see the nativity display on the old dresser.

“I think because Auntie Charu snapped them off,” he uncurled from the couch and joined Argus. The child turned and raised his arms. Marcus obliged by setting him on a hip.

A chubby arm pointed towards a strange brown object. “What is that?”

“The camel. Auntie Charu chewed him to death.”

Argus cocked his head as he examined the rest of the display. “Did she chew the baby, too? Did it hurt?”

A soft snort ruffled the young boy’s hair. Why were children so animistic? “Uncle Neil chewed the baby,” Marcus sighed. “And no, it’s not alive. It can’t feel pain. It only represents Elohim’s son.”

Argus had seen Neil briefly, at a distance, and the Raptor scared the beans out of him. He imagined the poor baby rattling between the dinosaur’s sharp teeth. Of course it felt something - fear. It had to have felt that. Plus if the camel was chewed to death, it had to be alive at one point. And then there was the reference to another pantheon. “Isn’t Mama Chaos?” Argus adopted a much more serious tone as he placed his hands on Marcus’ cheeks. “That is not our pantheon, Marcus.”

“Chaos isn’t your pantheon, either,” the young priest peevishly snapped and shook away his brother’s touch. “We don’t worship the Chaos gods. Ever. Got it? Doesn’t matter if Mama is one. And we don’t worship Elohim.”

The child’s brows knitted together. “Then why is his baby here?”

“Didn’t you pay attention last year?”

“Nope,” the child fibbed in hope of hearing a story.

Marcus sighed again before casting his gaze about. Perhaps Naomi was in? Or Charu? Somebody other than him? “Okay, fine. Once upon a time, in some blistering desert, this teenage girl got knocked up by-”

“That isn’t how the story begins,” came a low growl from the doorway. The hulking form of Argus’ father loomed inside it. “Don’t disrespect other pantheons.”

“It’s not our pantheon,” Marcus pointed out. “I don’t see the need to pay proper homage to anything outs-”

Thaddeus’s frown deepened. “Once upon a time, there was a silly girl that played with paper and didn’t know who the fuck she actually was because her Greater Being mother filled her head with music and pocket lint, and one day some moronic, testosterone-filled shitbag-”

“Point taken,” the young priest conceded as his adoptive father lifted Argus from his arms.

“Good.” Thaddeus scowled at his older son then turned his attention back to his youngest. “You remember some of the story. The Roman Emperor Augustus wanted to have a list of all the people in the empire, to make sure they paid their taxes. He ordered everyone to return to the town where their families originally came from, and enter their names in a register there. Mary and Joseph traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem, because that is where Joseph's family came from. Most people walked but some lucky people had a donkey to help carry the goods needed for the journey. Joseph and Mary traveled very slowly because Mary's baby was due to be born soon.”

“OH!” Argus’ face lit up. Naomi had told the story before. “There wasn’t any room in hotels because consensus, so they had to sleep outside the city walls, and the only place was a stable. So they stayed there.”

“Technically-”

“And then she had the baby,” Argus happily continued, “But they didn’t have no crib, so they used a troth. And then bangles went to the hills because reasons, and there were sheep people there. So the sheep people listened to the bangles and went to the hotel stable-”

“That’s angels. And what?” Thaddeus’s eyes widened. Marcus covered his smirk with a hand.

“And then they came to see the baby. Because maybe they’d never seen a baby. But then the bangles must have been daemon hosts and belonged to Uncle Fritz, because they knew about a plot, so they went and found three kings and sent them to the stable to warn Mary. And then Mary and Joseph and Jesus became refugees. And there was a star-”

Thaddeus scowl intensified. He shot an accusatory glance at Marcus.

“No, uh uh,” Marcus held up his hands while his brother continued to babble (he was on the part about Herod). “I didn’t tell him that. Honest.”

“Daddy, are you paying attention?” Argus’ fat finger poked his father’s chest. “The toddler and his parents made a late-night escape from their home country in the Middle East. Not long after, all the boys his age, 2 and under, were ordered killed by the oppressive regime they had fled.”

“Where’d you learn big words like that,” Thaddeus hadn’t lifted his searing gaze from Marcus.

“Anubis,” both Argus and Marcus replied, though it was clear by their tones that one enjoyed the Egyptian god’s visits while the latter would rather chew broken glass than spend much time with him.

“Anubis glosses over the beginning and picks up where his pantheon enters the picture,” Marcus went on to explain to his vexed patriarch. “Egypt, and the Messiah’s youth. It’s covered in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, though Anubis puts a playful spin on it. The modern bible doesn’t have that book. Krampus nitpicks them whenever the subject comes up when he babysi-”

“Krampus?!” Thaddeus wasn’t pleased to learn Charu’s tennis partner still lurked. St. Nick’s companion was an entirely darker matter. What the fuck was Naomi thinking?? Letting Krampus and Anubis have any access to the children was preposterous!

Of course, if our readers paid attention to the IC, they’d shake their heads at Thaddeus’ ignorance. Krampus makes several appearances. Of course, you could always search for “Krampus” and “sock drawer” if you can’t take my word for it!

“Nobody disobeys when Krampus babysits,” Argus pursed his lips. It was true.

“The fuck is he doing babysitting?”

A soft crunching interrupted Thaddeus before his anger could morph itself into a fierce rant. The men turned to find Charu next to the dresser, one hip propped against it as she worked what was left of the camel over with her sharp teeth.

“Maybe,” she said after spitting out some plastic, “Just maybe Naomi wouldn’t be so hard up for a babysitter if you were around more? You could learn something from the manger story, Thaddy.”

The old cyborg winced at the nickname.

“You see, Jesus was the son of a god,” Charu continued. “Yet it wasn’t Elohim that stepped up to raise him. It was Joseph. He didn’t have to. It wasn’t his kid. But he walked every step to Bethlehem, and then put his life on hold to flee with the child. If I recall, you fled with a child and his mother, once upon a time. Fucked that one up, too. Anyway, Joseph returned home, bringing both with him, in order to see to it the child was presented at the temple in time. So, really, the moral of this story is simple: if you don’t want Krampus and Anubis playing the role of father figure, figure out your fucking priorities. Some day, you might not be around. And then who will comfort your kid’s mother while your son hangs on a cross?”


Thaddeus was momentarily insulted by the notion. And then he remembered the avatar’s love of crucifixion. He wouldn’t put it past her, considering the lack of love she felt for him. “Fair point. Perhaps I should talk with Naomi-”

Charu barked laughter as she tucked the slimed camel into the display again. “Forget about Naomi. Aegis, you know? And Bones. And a few others. You fucked up there, asshole. How much more can you fuck up her life? How much more pain can she endure? But yeah, be there for your kid if you don’t like the way others are raising him.” She sauntered out of the room, offering the bird to him as she went. “...And Merry fucking Christmas.”

“Merry fucking Christmas, Auntie Charu!” Argus waved to her.

Marcus closed his eyes as he counted the seconds between his brother’s potty word and his patriarch’s rebuke, but the latter didn’t come. Curious, he peered at Thaddeus, but the old cyborg had turned and was already walking away.

"I hated that one," Charu grunted as a plastic sheep emerged from the old box. "Why did you write it?"

Dunno, really. It was done in the midst of real life chaos. No, let's be straight. I wrote it in a hurry just so I wouldn't break tradition. I knocked out two that year because I couldn't decide which one should be posted in the OOC. It was a weak attempt to lift the group's spirits.

"Do you know what I like best about this Christmas?" the avatar's beady eyes twinkled. She set the sheep next to the remnants of the plastic camel. "Mon's character is making the meal, just like the old days. Maybe you can ask her to offer music again this year? That's tradition, too. And you want to know what else?"

No, but I'm sure Charu will tell me anyway.

Her voice lowers to conspirator's pitch as she hisses, "The Grump and the Gentleman. This is their first Christmas, and it's been cocks-and-guillotines for their first foray into PL."

Wha-who?

"New fam, fam. Koth and Souls." Charu rolled her eyes and added the last piece to the manger scene. "They're as lost in the setting as you are regarding this stupid one-shot."

At least they don't ramble!

"True. They also don't typo 'manger' as 'manager' I know you'll go through and correct it before posting this."

God, I am sooooo tempted to ask for a Personification PLayer story to finish out the year. Something that gives us a chance to let our hair down in the IC, and to just walk in that world and figure out what needs fixing. That's what we did for Bielefeld a few years back.

"Ask? You know, Aut, in the old days... well, you would open the box and shake out whatever was inside, and people rolled with it. Right now, all this planning is killing all of us in the IC. We're sorta wondering how all the changes fit for us, and it just doesn't feel like PL. That's what needs fixing."

Hmmmm.

"I smell smoke. You must be thinking."

Give me that box. It's time to get our Christmas on.

"My, but that's an evil grin, Aut!"

---

Merry Christmas, PLeeps, whether you celebrate it or not.
May your holiday contain joy, love, and peace.
Thank you for so many years of weirdness and humor. I love you all.

[Tiltjuice]

Thanks again, Swithy, for making PL what it is today. Much respect and surreal humor and melting nuts and bolts.

/pie

[Cerillium]

Happy Yule, Joyous Solstice, Merry Christmas, and Hanukkah Greetings to all our PLeeps.


Someone remind me to ask Ched if his canon includes a Maccabean revolt against the Seleucid Empire.

I telecommute this week. Will kick off my holiday posts tomorrow. Got to sleep off tonight's dinner first.

[Northwest Slobovia]

Happy Yule, Joyous Solstice, Merry Christmas, and Hanukkah Greetings to all our PLeeps.


Someone remind me to ask Ched if his canon includes a Maccabean revolt against the Seleucid Empire.

*Adjusts the aim of Ched's canon until it does.*

[Swith Witherward]

*yawns*

[Tiltjuice]

10/10 would fennec again

[Cerillium]

Frozen badger, frozen fennec, frozen pipes, frozen door locks.

[Highfort]

Frozen badger, frozen fennec, frozen pipes, frozen door locks.

Frozen II: Badger and Fennec Boogaloo

[Northwest Slobovia]

Frozen badger, frozen fennec, frozen pipes, frozen door locks.

Oy! I hope y'all can thaw everything out pronto!

[Tiltjuice]

Frozen badger, frozen fennec, frozen pipes, frozen door locks.

Frozen II: Badger and Fennec Boogaloo

Let's tootling them vigorously.

(French horn)

And on a PLost-related note... the bubbles do things. Feel free to ask - or just run headlong into them.