The Estate in Glacia, Tuesday Evening

[wwiii]

Between the multiple days of Winsol being celebrated by the Blood of Kaeleer, and the fact that Christmas was pretty much upon them now, it had been a hectic week leading up to tonight. Warren hadn't really expected a Christmas celebration on top of all of the festivities of Winsol, no, but Karla had insisted, and so he was going to make certain that if they were doing Christmas in Glacia, they were going to at least do it right. He really didn't ask for much - he had a home that felt like home and people that he could call family, and he'd have been happy settling for Winsol as his stand-in winter holiday - but he suspected that Karla had grown pretty fond of Christmas over the years, too, which might have had some role in the tree he'd been allowed to spend the morning setting up in one of the living rooms with Julian and Morton's help.

... Which, to Morton and Julian, had seemed a bit redundant. After all, there was already a Winsol tree up in the other room. But Warren had insisted that if he was celebrating Christmas, he wanted to at least be able to decorate a tree with ornaments that seemed at least somewhat reminiscent of the holiday he remembered. The Winsol tree was lovely in its own way, but it was very... Well...

... Blood.

So he'd ransacked the storage room for some of the less gaudy gilt ornaments that had been left over when they'd re-claimed the estate, picking out ones shaped that seemed a little more wintry than others, like caribou and Arcerian cats and children playing in snow, along with an assortment of golden bells. Up until that morning, he'd been wondering just what use anyone could have for so many damn bells, anyhow. He did borrow a few spare garlands for the tree, though, and he'd asked Karla really nicely if she could maybe hook him up with some tiny witchlights for the whole arrangement. She'd done so, a little distracted, before wandering off to make some more agitated phone calls to Jono. The end result was a tree that looked a little more Christmas than Winsol, especially once Warren got a fire going in one of the fireplaces nearby.

He'd never really celebrated Christmas growing up, and now he was one of the only people around who even knew what it was. But he couldn't help but feel a bit of nostalgic pride as he looked at his tree and wrestled with some fancy paper and ribbon. As it would turn out, claws weren't meant for wrapping presents at all. Thanks for that, creepy space virus.

[OOC: Merry Winsmas! Open for phone calls, or anyone who might be in Glacia for the occasion!]

Comments

[glacial_queen]

"Okay, Jono..." Karla was saying, "...I know you don't give a damn about Winsol and that's fine, but now it's Christmas and for all that you're a giant Scrooge McDuck about the holiday, I know for a fact that you secretly love it. So why aren't you here, with your family, celebrating your stupid holiday? You said you'd be home in time for Christmas and unless you plan to come down a chimney dressed as Santa--which would be funny, I'll grant--you're supposed to be home by now."

Her voice kept wavering between worried and cross. "Did you decide to stay with Lee and Ange through the holiday? Is that why you're avoiding my calls? Dammit, Jono, I can be reasonable! I can be understanding! But you have to call me back so I can be those things, jerkhead!"

[wwiii]

Warren glanced away from his wrapping with a frown. He'd probably be happier for the distraction from fingers stuck together with tape if it wasn't for just how upset it was making Karla.

"Still no answer, love? Is this something that he's prone to doing?"

[glacial_queen]

Karla scowled and threw her phone onto a sofa--a completely mature and rational reaction, thank you very much.

"Generally not," she admitted, flopping down beside him and just looking at his hands. How in the world--? You know what? She just wasn't even asking. "Which means he's either in trouble, which is practically par for the fucking course for the X-idiots, or he's just having such a great time with the friends he hasn't seen in a million years that he's forgotten his phone completely or we're looking at some kind of freaky time shift where it's barely been twenty minutes there and he's, just, like in a shower or something."

Either way, Karla was displeased with the whole idea.

[wwiii]

"Fun with multiple realities," Warren noted, nodding faintly and giving a thoughtful frown as he attempted to unstick his fingers by wiping his hand on his pant leg. "How long are we giving him before we call in the cavalry?"

Look, it had been a while since the cavalry had been called in. Warren almost missed it. Except for all of the life-threatening danger and such.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal liked to cultivate friends, especially powerful and interesting ones. Therefor, a number of people were going to find things delivered to them in time for the holiday.

He wasn't entirely certain how the portals functioned with the time difference between Fandom and Glacia, but he hoped they would arrive on time.

Everything was beautifully (and professionally) wrapped in subdued yet classy paper and cloth ribbon.

Warren (whenever he chose to unwrap them) got goggles and a book.
Dear Warren,
I've enjoyed getting to know you, and I hope you don't mind my sending presents. I don't know how often you return to Earth, but if you do, I thought you might be interested in some sightseeing of the type that not many can do. And the goggles seemed useful and appropriate, particularly given the company they're from. Have a lovely Christmas.
Your friend,
Hannibal Lecter


Karla's present was larger and flatter, and she'd open it to see (a very good-quality reproduction of) Artemisia Gentileschi's Judith Slaying Holofernes.
My dear Karla,
It has been truly lovely making your acquaintance. I realize that Christmas is not a part of your tradition, and I'm unsure if your Winsol involves the giving of gifts, but I hope you will accept this token of my esteem nevertheless, and perhaps find a place for it amongst the new decorations I'm certain your home will be seeing. It's a rendition by a female painter named Artemisia Gentileschi of the story of Judith. The enemy ruler Holofernes planned to destroy her homeland, so she used his lechery and overconfidence to get him alone and then killed him. Inspired by her actions, her people were victorious. I thought you might find it cheering.
Your friend,
Hannibal Lecter


There was also a smaller package for Ermengarde, containing two books: Libellus De Arte Coquinaria: An Early Northern Cookery Book, and Modernist Cuisine. (The fact the medieval one had an article on cannibalism was completely accidental, naturally.)
My dear Ermengarde,
It's been lovely speaking with you. It's the custom in my homeland now to give gifts, and I naturally thought of you. You'll find here one of the oldest cookbooks extant, and one which is very new. Whether you'll be able to put any of the recipes into practice I don't know, but I thought you might appreciate the glimpse into how people think about food regardless. I look forward to your next letter, and I wish you a very good Winsol and able assistants for the feast.
Your dear friend,
Hannibal Lecter

[glacial_queen]

"Till tomorrow," Karla said, glaring back at her phone. "And if he's off somewhere gallivanting around with hookers and blow he is going to long for the days when the Healers were harassing him."

She didn't think Jono was off gallivanting. She really, really wished he were.

[wwiii]

"He really doesn't strike me as the 'hookers and blow' sort," Warren noted, mildly. "Though, I guess, all power to him if he ever decides to be, just so long as he's not brushing off holiday plans without warning to do so."

Seriously, from what Warren could tell, that would be a step up for him, wouldn't it?

"I'll make certain my sticks are sharp."

They always were.

[wwiii]

Warren actually grinned a little as he opened his gift. The Alps, hm? Maybe he'd have to keep them in mind, if ever they had another opportunity to take a vacation back on Earth. Affairs in Sidra wouldn't be insane forever, would they?

He could hope.

And the goggles, while not entirely necessary, were also appreciated. His eyes had mutated right along with the rest of him and could handle a bit of wind, but you never knew what else you might have to fly through. The witchblood smoke during the war had been proof enough of that. He made a mental note to write a letter of thanks for Hannibal while tucking the goggles away in a pouch on the same belt that held the sheaths for his bladed sticks.

[glacial_queen]

If he'd said that middle bit aloud, Karla would have smacked him in the back of his head. Instead, all she could do was frown and nod.

"He's healed up enough to use his collar again, at least for a little while," she said, refusing to get up and pace again. There was already a small divot in the rug from earlier. "So, if something were going on in his world, he'd be able to handle himself. And he knows that he can call if he needs us. Hell's fire, he knows he'd better call."

[wwiii]

"Well, he was visiting friends, right? Do you know any of their numbers?"

Maybe not Jubilee, but... other ones? Who else was there? That one that had given Karla the idea to skip rope or something?

Look, Warren was a few memos behind.

[glacial_queen]

"No," Karla said sourly. "The only time I met either of them was when we visited the mansion that time."

You remember, that time, Warren? With the crucifixion and the Church of Humanity and all? Karla hadn't been in the right headspace for exchanging numbers with folks.

"Maybe I still have his old New Warriors contacts..." She dove for her phone and sped through her contacts.

"...Oh."

[wwiii]

"... Oh?"

Look, Karla, your reaction to thumbing through your contact list was not exactly reassuring, either.

"Is something the matter with those?"

[icecoldfrost]

There were, of course, packages recently arrived from New York. Because Emma loved shopping too much to send just one present.

For Karla, with love, Auntie Em
Karla had a number of small boxes to unwrap. And yes, Karla, those two tiny items were in pink. You can wear colors other than blue.

(You're welcome, Warren)

For Warren. Place them high enough that tiny-you cannot reach them. Love, Auntie Em. Warren's boxes were a bit heavier, as they contained six bottles of Iroshizuku inks in various colors, and three sleek, steel fountain pens with extra nibs.

[trigons_child]

Raven had never celebrated Christmas before coming to Fandom, and she'd grown quite fond of it, especially the giving of presents. She'd learned about Winsol as well, of course, but she was pleased to see Christmas wouldn't be forgotten.

[trigons_child]

"Jono is not coming?" Raven said, frowning a little in Karla's direction.

[wwiii]

"Merry Christmas, Raven," Warren greeted her from where he was sitting, half-folded into a chair that still wasn't quite fitted for a man with wings, claws all stuck up in tape that he was having terrible luck actually getting to stick to the paper, rather than himself. "Um... next year, remind me to invest in gift bags, please."

Less tape.

[wwiii]

Well, now that Lucivar had spent a weekend teaching tiny-Warren the joys of actually using those tiny little wings of his, it was entirely possible that there wasn't actually a place in the estate that tiny-him couldn't get to. Still, he found himself smiling as he opened his gift, poking through the inks for a while and making a mental note to get her a nice gift and to write a thank-you note using his own later.

[trigons_child]

"Merry Christmas," Raven said, pressing a finger to her lips to hold back a giggle at his predicament.

"Would you like some help?"

[wwiii]

"I think I might need some," Warren confessed, wrinkling his nose at his hands. "I forget sometimes that I'm not half as dextrous as I used to be. For the most part, I'm fine, but..."

Tape wasn't the most agreeable substance even when you didn't have claws.

[glacial_queen]

"I only have one number," Karla said softly. "It was Mira's. Her death was one of the reasons they disbanded."

There was an unexpected lump in her throat as she said that. She and Mira had never been close, but she'd liked the older woman. Still, it had been more than a year since her death. Odd that Karla would be choking up now.

Must be holiday-related emotions.

[glacial_queen]

"Jono's not answering," Karla said with a scowl. "So, we have another few hours of playing Schroedinger's Jono before we know for sure whether he'll be here."

You know. Like he'd said he'd be.

[glacial_queen]

Karla held up the first of Emma's gifts and showed it to Warren. "How long do you think this'll last?" she checked. "And will Ems see its inevitable destruction as a compliment?"

[wwiii]

Rather than the fact that nobody had really had any time to mourn before throwing themselves into another, different war?

Warren bit his lip as he set aside the box he was trying to wrap, and then made his way across the room to wrap his arms around Karla.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he murmured. He hadn't known the woman at all, but Karla was obviously upset. "She was a friend of yours, too?"

[wwiii]

Oh, Warren was going to get himself snagged in that little number so quickly.

"I can try to be gentle with it," he offered, smirking faintly. "I'm making no promises, though. Unless we set that one aside as the one I make you take off while I watch..."

[glacial_queen]

Or that she was taking that as a terrible omen, as foolish as that was at all?

Karla held tightly to him, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck and losing her hands in his feathers. "More a friendly acquaintance than anything else," she murmured. "She had a lot of useful ideas, though. Like a certain video from college."