FIRE! Who: Felix [Narrative] Where: 2nd Floor Landing When: Around 2am
Felix likes to think that he wasn't an idiot. Starting a fire in the house was always a pretty stupid idea, but with how fast the overall response time had been for the past few blazes, he wasn't terribly worried. At any rate, it didn't need to be a big fire, it just needed to exist to give Madison as proper as send off as he was comfortable with providing. Madison probably would have preferred if he tried burning the whole house to the ground, but he didn't particularly feel like schlepping around in the snow for something that was already uncharacteristically sentimental.
He made a bit of a show of getting adorably wasted at the holiday party, then finding a corner to appear to doze off in. It didn't take long for someone to come by to gently nudge him awake and suggest he go upstairs and call it a night. He did, bringing the remains of his drink with him as he trudged up the stairs in probably his best performance at being sloshed ever. He'd leaned heavily on the railing, half-stumbling around the tree on the landing and making sure to "accidentally" spill the remains of his drink there, all while glowering at the thing as if it were it's fault he hadn't been looking where he was going.
At the top of the stairs to the second floor, his movements had turned into a smooth sneak, and he slipped into Gemma's old, empty room, where he'd stashed a long stem lighter and a flashlight in the closet. Waiting until the party died down wasn't ideal, but with the snow, and so many people awake, it simply wasn't logical to go hopping out of windows to get the job done this time. At least, not for this part. For now, he sat in the closet, closing the door and letting that be his best defense against anyone who decided they might use the empty room for sexy shenanigans. Using the flashlight, and the pen and paper he'd stashed in his pocket, be continued to work on his gift list.
He didn't quite know how much time had passed by the time Daphne poked her head in to let him know it was time, and true to her word, she was out of sight by the time he slipped out. Quietly stepping down the stairs, he listened for potential interruptions from the first floor, but figured that from the angle he was standing at someone would have to be standing pretty much right on the edge of the foyer to see over the railing to him. Moving silently, he leaned down to unplug the lights, then used the clippers on one of the wires to create the effect of a stripped and fraying line in the area he'd dumped his alcohol earlier. When he plugged the lights back in, he half expected that they'd short out, but the result was only that half the lights didn't flicker on. Using the lighter, he started the blaze on the needles closest to the fray he'd created, letting the alcohol carrying the flame to the nearest branches as he stepped back and headed back toward Gemma's room, and the window, while pocketing his supplies.
Merry Christmas, Red, he thought as he slipped out into the cold air to drop to the ground, the plan to head to Simms' window next. Wherever the fuck you are now.