EVENT LOG: FEAST OF LIGHTS

[inthenightmods]

EVENT LOG:
FEAST OF LIGHTS

characters: everyone.
location: around town.
date/time: december 23 - 30
content: Holiday cheer is here!
warnings: n/a. please cw tags appropriately.

a show of lights

When characters wake on the "morning" of the 23rd, they'll find all of Beacon is lit up beautifully. Spirits have carefully placed candles all around the town, lighting up the familiar buildings and streets with a warm, comforting glow. If others wish to help, they're more than welcome, but it won't take too long: they've clearly spent all night getting things ready. If asked, Rastus will explain the spirits do this every few years, and yes, those candles are lit from the bonfire, but he'll get them back before the end of the event.

Once the spirits finish their task, it's time to hand out dreidels! While the four-sided toy has the usual Hebrew letters on it, characters will soon realize that they've little correlation to the typical rules. Instead: each side offers a certain kind of prize (listed below). Characters can play against the spirits or among themselves, but either way, they'll find a personal dreidel in their possession for the duration of the event.

secret santa

Of course, the spirits aren't the only ones in a holiday mood. Thanks to the tireless (and secretive) efforts of Eleven, quite a number of people wake up to find a present nearby. The wrappings vary from elegant to, well, an effort, and the gifts range form big to small, but there's no doubt each was given with at least a little thoughtfulness in mind.

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Comments

[sauntered_downward]

Crowley takes the scarf and the gloves and looks at them with something like confusion on his face.

"Did you---did you make these?" He knew that the human soldier person was going to be sewing something for Aziraphale, but he had no idea that they'd be sewing something for Crowley. Especially not something so nice.

He slips off the gloves he's been wearing to hide his missing fingernails and pulls on the ones that the human soldier person made. They fit fantastically. He gives his hands a flex.

"This is----well. I mean. It's----" He doesn't want to say it's nice, but it really, really is. And incredibly thoughtful. All sorts of words that are basically insults when coming from a demon. Crowley can't possibly understand why the human soldier person thought he was worthy of such nice gifts. He's basically been a lousy flatmate and an even lousier friend to them for the entirety of their time together.

"High fashion." he decides on.

[worthallthis]

Oh thank fuck, he likes them. Some of the tension goes out of the Soldier's shoulders and they smile tentatively, nodding, because yeah, they made those. Reach over to grasp Crowley's wrist, grateful and relieved and warm and alive-feeling. (They're happy. That's that feeling. Even if they don't have a name for it. This has been a surprisingly mostly great day.)

High fashion. Jesus. (Absolutely not high fashion, pal. Shut up. He likes them.) But they do say, "Don't know that I'd go that far. But I'm glad you like them." Doesn't hide the fingernails anymore, but who cares. Show off those fingers, Crowley. They're great just like they are.

[sauntered_downward]

Crowley offers the human soldier person a small smile, and gives his hand in their grasp another flex. Definitely flexes, definitely warm, which is always nice, considering how cold Crowley's cold-blooded snake life can be. He twists the scarf around his neck with his other hand.

"See, I don't know. You might've missed your calling on the runway. Don't quote me on it, but if you come back to London with Aziraphale and I, I could definitely make something happen for you. Turn a few souls in your direction."

[worthallthis]

The clasp doesn't last long, they never do on the rare occasions they happen, but Crowley's still one of the only people who gets them. The Soldier snorts at little as they let go and step back, but it's an amused sound rather than the opposite. "Pass. Too many people looking at me. Looks good on you, though."

The colors are good for his hair and complexion, which is probably why Crowley keeps wearing them. So the scarf and gloves match.

[sauntered_downward]

Crowley gives them a nonchalant shrug. "Of course they do," he replies, in that way that says 'everything looks good on me.' It's very easy to see that he is immensely, immensely pleased by these presents, though.

More than just the gifts themselves, it's what they mean. They're symbols of connection, and the human soldier person made them themself. That's special. It's important, even if Crowley isn't entirely sure how. He's going to remember it.

[worthallthis]

And that's all the Soldier wanted: to see their gives appreciated. To see their friend happy. They give the end of the scarf a gentle tug. "Come on. Come have dinner. I promise there's something edible."

[sauntered_downward]

Crowley offers the human soldier person a small smile, then looks at the stove with an annoyed face.

"I can't," he says. "You, you go ahead. I'll watch. But that----that thing at the night market. I can't eat."

[worthallthis]

The Soldier's expression falls a little-- not unhappy, but a little disappointed, a little sympathetic. He can't even eat for Christmas? That's terrible. "Still? It's been weeks." They're gonna punch that machine if it comes back in town again.