mythopoeics

[What is Christmas to the Adversary? Oh, do not think that he is a Grinch who despises Christmas and everything it stands for (although he does, a little).

The true meaning of Christmas angers him; it sends him into such a rage that the Father truly felt that humans deserved such a gift. Fortunately, the little mortals have done a damned good job in making Christmas bearable, even for the Devil. The greed - such avarice as to make his toes tingle - and the inevitable petty arguments and the overwhelming misery as the poor watch the rich glut themselves. He sees it even in the jaded sermons in faded churches.

Christmas brings out the worst in people and Lucifer cannot help but applaud that, from the corner of his quiet apartment]

I slept through most of Christmas day, but Pasithea and I made a snowman. I don't have any gifts to give, but... I can offer hugs and kisses. Oh, and Merry yesterday-was-Christmas. And all other things...

( In which Gwynevere is the Arthurian Santa Claus. Gifts for Hemera, Tristan, Morgan, Elaine, Mordred, Agravaine, Arthur, and Lancelot. )

[December 26th, around 2 in the morning]

[Filter: King Leodegrance]
You should not have sold me off[no, gwyn, he's not here.]

[Filter: Public]
Thank God those gifts were boxed and wrapped

It's very wet outside. My dog almost tripped when I let him out to walk. Did something happen?

[Filter: Kendra Sinclair]
I hope you checked outside your room! ♥

His Christmas was still some time away in January. He had even scheduled himself to work partly on Christmas Day. Clearly the holiday didn't go as planned for anyone.

His mood had been bleak since the hotel incident. He couldn't help it, had thrown himself into his work and had been far less social. Even now, he was so very reluctant to reach out to those he cared for, those he called family.

And as he laid in bed, he made a vow to turn things around next year. He had to for his own sake if no one else's. Perhaps it was also time to let go of the past and find something new.

I don't much care for holidays, but I'm thankful that the people I care for are all here and safe. Let's hope this lasts through the end of the year.

It's Christmas, I'm with family and loved ones, and I have a sock monkey hat.

I can't really ask for anything more.

Sledding down the staircases, or snowball fight in the hallway. Who's in?

[Patroklos' family had not been particularly devout Christians, though he had nominally been brought up in the Orthodox faith. They were devoted to family, though, and since he had gotten married and had children, Christmas had been an important time to him.

Today, he was supposed to be in Arizona with Sasha and Mishka. Today, he was an absentee father.]

I am going to find a bar in this building if it's the last thing I do. Weather like this calls for vodka.

Happy Christmas, Vova.

Now I couldn't help but notice that I've been snowed in. Happy Christmas to me.

MERRY XMAS
& HAPPY HOLIDAYS

& everything else ♥

[ Text to Bastet ]
bastbastbast what floor are you on?!

[it was time to do some caroling. no mistletoe was going inspire this. this was all Elaine and she was going to tackle the fifth floor with some cheery songs. she had started with apartments 5J and 5I (doing them in twos to save time!), continuing down until she got closer and closer to her own apartment. the songs weren't meant to be lengthy and she didn't linger as well.

now she came upon the final apartments, hers and 5B. the voice post begins here]

Fifth floor, that noise in the hallway? Was me! I'm sorry if you didn't fully appreciate the caroling but I was in the mood and it's almost Christmas. I had to. Of course, if that doesn't cut it, I do have treats in my apartment. I've been requesting a lot of sugar and flour. And yeast. And...well, anyway. Stuff. Knock on 5A's door if you want any.

That aside, I'm going to wrap up here and get back to making honey cakes and taffy.

[she already knew which song to sing (Deck the Halls). her throat cleared, she launched into the song with gutso, forgetting to kill the recording]

Minos had been caught by mistletoe. Was it worse that it was the one that inspired a man to dance? Perhaps. His personal luck tended to be strong but not this time. Nothing was perfect. In particular as today was his forty-seventh birthday.

But that didn't matter. What mattered was that it happened. Anyone on the second floor around three PM would have witnessed Minos bring back the seventies (think Saturday Night Fever, the Bee Gees). He had only turned fifteen as the the seventies had come to a close but he knew the moves and, quite frankly, the eighties hadn't offered anything that better (God in Heaven, the eighties). And when he was done, he walked off, uncaring of any reaction. He wasn't going to let a little fucking plant make him suffer.

No shame, no regret.

Though we're pretty much stuck here, building pillow fortresses and making out in the office, let's not be entirely put out, eh?

I'm just going to go ahead and ram Christmas spirit right up your faces. Say 'Merry Christmas', or whatever equivalent, in as many languages as possible. Top of your head, people. No Googling.

I'd go ahead, but that'd be more languages for everyone else, right? No fun in that.

Bring your worst!

( nothing is really what it seems )

[ ooc: backdated to early morning of the first day ]

A year ago, I was having some vivid dreams about Jesus's crucifixion. Now? Now I'm having visions about being a seven-year-old girl with a really bad cough calling for her mother in Russian.

Interesting.

Like other people have said, though, the lack of killer ghosts is a distinct plus.

It's been so long since I've felt like dancing that having the urge to do so now makes me incredibly happy.

[filter; polyxena]

Princess, are you safe?

[filter; gwynevere]

...

My Queen. I gather we are in the same building.

[filter; public]

Having gotten over the urge to build a fort (it is a fine fort but I will hear no more about it), I have investigated the building a little more. The room service is prompt. I'll say that much for it.

Knights, my Ladies - how do you fare?

Mistletoe... Why'd it have to be mistletoe?

I don't like hotels. I also don't like having my holiday plans disrupted. However, I'm discovering I do like having something non-lethal to shoot at people with. Approach at your own risk.

Well... it's my birthday, I'm in a hotel, and I've got a paintball gun. Let's rock.

Blackwells, front and centre. I have paintball equipment and I'm not afraid to use it.

(There is no way out. Save yourselves, &c)

[filter; greek deities & their offspring]

I trust you are all healthy and safe. Pheme, I commend you on your pyjamas. If we are still here come Christmas Day, I propose we select the least mischievous floor and meet there.

(Or, perhaps the most mischievous, if my son Hermes has his way~?)

I really want to dance with someone. [And somehow, Hebe sounds happier than she's been in a long time. In a way, she is.] Someone come dance with me, or maybe. Um. Against me, like a competition? Please?

Oh. But it's kind of too quiet. Has anyone found any music? I'd really like some.

...why do they always take me when I'm in my damned jammies!

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

We should have seen this coming. We really should.

Alright then. I was on the second floor but I'm in the lobby now. Elevators appear safe enough. The Christmas tree here is lovely but I'm pretty sure there is something in it. Maybe more than one something.

I'm not counting on mercy but it would be nice to be out of here before Christmas. If we aren't, let's make the best of things, shall we?

Plants are always suspicious.

This shit? Again?

I HAD A TERRIBLE MORNING. :( Six hours. Six hours of torture. I only had my hand. And now all these towels[gone]

I need a hug. And assurance. And cookies. Maybe in that order.



Probably need some pants before that.

[ Waking up in a strange room was not precisely normal for Samael, in spite of his reputation. Waking up with his sister in a strange room was somewhat more normal so he allowed himself to take in his surroundings gradually without immediately jumping into fight-or-flight mode. (To be fair, for Samael, it tended to be fight-or-fight-harder mode).

This definitely wasn't Daphne's apartment and it wasn't Azazel's. The decor was classy and the neighborhood was quiet. Too quiet.

Samael was uneasy. He dipped his head to press a kiss to Daphne's shoulder and said, in a sing-song voice, "Reza. They're fucking with us again."

Reza groaned and propped one eye-open, "Well, they can fuck off until I've had a few more hours of sleep. I hope you're as bruised as I feel." Always such a charming girl, but she was content enough waking up with Dante's familiar body by her side. She would never really let him go, nor would she look kindly upon his other flings, but... well, she'd do what she'd have to. Even if it meant slitting throats along the way.

She even swatted Dante away a bit and rolled around the sheets, trying to make a bit more space for herself in the bed. He was rather big and she kept bumping limbs into him even when she wasn't planning on that. "Oh fucking hell, you're also fat." He wasn't, but this was Daphne, she'd find something insulting to spit out when she was being poked the wrong way. And being woken up was certainly on the list of being poked the wrong way.]

Keep calm and don't break anything. It's a nice place so let's keep it that way. Be grateful we didn't invite anything to devour you or poke you in the middle of the night. Unless one of the chipmunks come up with you. But we will remain faultless.

If you should have a need for something or require something to be repaired, please place a neatly-written request on the front desk in the lobby or pick up your apartment's phone and press zero. State your request and hang up. We'll attend to the matter as swiftly as possible.

Happy holidays.



And don't break anything.