tramitem_log | Time to jingle those bells!

~*~*Silver Bells~*!

[The rink at Rockefellar Center is busy this time of year, and looks a bit like a post card or a film set. People muffled against the cold skate on the silvery surface under a dark sky, softly illuminated by lights. There are also vendors here and there that sell hot cocoa or coffee or anything warm to cup between the hands.

Alec is there as well, either gliding on the ice with remarkable grace considering his gangly form, or else sitting on the sidelines and watching with a cup of something steaming in his hands. Feel free to join him on the ice, or be the object of his ridicule or require his help… or else just take a seat with him and watch the show. At some point a violinist will come by and play Christmas Carols, completing the enchanting scene]

[Martin isn't one for skating, himself, but whenever he finds himself in the vicinity during the winter, it's a nice little break to stop and watch the skaters with a cup of coffee. A consultation brought him up toward the Center, and after a particularly long and difficult discussion with the patient and his primary, Martin's more than ready for some winter Zen. he curls a red paper cup in his gloved hands, watching the figures sliding along the ice, focusing more on the sound of the scrape and scratch of blades on the ice than on the violinist on the other side of the rink.

something about it amuses him... he smiles a little, without really thinking about where this sudden development came from. it's not the sort of sound most would be taken with, but one corner of his mouth almost curls up into a lopsided grin. whether Alec is procuring his own beverage or out there on the ice to be spotted, well ... anyone's guess]

[he is on the ice, gliding along, even backwards with a sort of effortlessness that might surprise even people that know him. It's a very hidden talent and one he would deny.

It takes him a moment to spot the familiar figure and slides up to him with expert ease, a faint smile on his face, only for it to disappear as realization sinks in]

Oh. It's you.

Thought I was Fell, hm?

[that gets a small chuckle, and it's only a tad bitter. people always seem to be so disappointed when he isn't. it's the sort of thing that would make a lesser man jealous ... all that ... attention ... irritation buzzes around his mind like a fly, and he tries to ignore it. this sort of thing didn't used to bother him, did it? then again, he never had a doppelganger before. he'll chalk it up to that]

I'd say you were the first, but I'd be lying. ... You're quite good at that. I have a feeling if I strapped on a pair of skates, I'd be flat on my ass in moments. [his eyes flash wide for just a brief moment for emphasis as he gives Alec a self-deprecating grin]

It takes skill and practice. [he's not answering the Fell question. Though as a child he understood the sentiment. As adults, he was far enough from Anthony that so far no one had made made the mistake]

If you wanted you could learn.

And a great deal of balance, I'm sure.

[he glances between them - Alec's whip-thin body and his own nearly Mall Santa physique]

Not quite sure I have the build for it. Or at least, I figure I don't.

[he's funny, see?]

[he doesn't find it particularly amusing really, but smirks a bit]

Well, not everyone can be Fell. [he doesn't even know if Fell can skate, he just wants to ruffle the doctor's feathers]

[he's not even going to dignify that bait with more of a response than a moment's deadpan stare. really, Alec? THEY HAVE THE SAME BUILD. he sips at his coffee while he gives the aforementioned stinkface, just to cover the silence, then continues as though Alec had just said 'hey, if you don't want to try, that's okay'.]

You must have come here quite a lot in the past, then, hmm? ... Or do you go to the Aviator rink in Brooklyn? One of the other Different works there, you know. Trains skaters, even.

Edited 2020-12-24 05:22 (UTC)

Do I sound like I'm from anywhere near here? [he is rampantly Scottish and proud of it]

I used to do it a lot when I was a teenager. Great way to get away from it all, you know? No one wanted to freeze their balls off in minus six c, which would be twenty degrees to you heathens. Have I mentioned Fahrenheit makes no bloody sense? Because it doesn't.

It's New York, Alec, anyone can be from anywhere. [he rolls his eyes a little at how sharp he's being - typical Alec, really, since the day they met. he doesn't expect any less]

Though, as a man of science, I really do have to agree about Fahrenheit. Metric, as well. Learning how to switch back and forth during my training was frustrating as all hell. Must be on a daily basis for you.

Not me, but then I'm better educated to boot. [a challenging grin as he glides backwards a bit on the ice, making an easy turn to glide backwards the other way]

You're not to be blamed for it, I suppose, and it would be a shame to damage your ego or your arse. Big as they both are.

[is he needling him? Maybe. But he's also enjoying it]

Better educated? [a snort of a laugh as he watches Alec. the man's definitely teasing the hell out of him, but ... he seems to be enjoying it too. attention is attention, after all, and it reminds him a bit of how some of the people he did his army training with would rag on each other. and there's something else. someone else, who needled him constantly ... who? he feels he should know by now, that he's seen them in a memory but no evidence of it yet. someone just as savage with their tongue as Alec]

That sounds more like cultural pride than actual scholastic evidence, to me. Also, thanks for the compliment.

[he rather likes his ass. glad you do too]

You're welcome. [a bit of a bow]

Well I've definitely more courage then. That's a proven fact.

Courage? [he laughs - not in a dismissive way, just amused and confused] How do you figure that?

I don't see skates on your feet, or a willingness to try. But it could be you only try when you know you're going to succeed.

[said lightly but he's watching him]

So it's a challenge, is it?

[he's grinning, genuinely, but something is creeping into his eyes, a flash of something a little more feral that says he's beginning to think he can't deny any sort of challenge. that some part of him HAS to prove himself capable.]

More of a massacre but as you like.

Oh come on, you've had more practice. The fact that you're going to skate circles around me if I try is a given.

[he arches an eyebrow. he may be subtly trying to locate the nearest rental booth]

Yeah, yeah, stop whining and get on the ice. I'll be waiting. [and after a final smirk he glides away]

[Martin gives an affronted little gasp that Alec might have found terribly familiar (if a little less histrionic) if he hadn't started moving away. that's followed by a little low grumble at the back of his throat as he starts toward the rental booth and purchases himself a pair of hockey skates - they look a little more stable to him, better bracing around the ankles. after a few minutes of fighting with the laces, he stands ... and is surprised at how well he keeps his balance]

Well, now.

[he's convinced he's a natural as he makes his way onto the rink. whether or not that was just dumb luck remains to be seen]

[he couldn't help but be surprised, and a bit suspicious at this, but wasn't about to let it ruffle his feathers. He skated around Whitley instead as if looking him over.]

Not bad. Not great but good for a first start. [he's lying through his teeth] Let's see what you can do.

[Martin tilts his head. what he can do? is Alec expecting him to do one of those triple lunks or whatever the hell they're called? in his dreams. his eyes narrow a little as he thinks, then begins to follow Alec, slowly, in circles, so that it's hard to tell who's circling who]

You first? A little 'anything you can do'?

[his own eyes narrow. It was definitely not Whitley's first time on the ice. But that didn't mean he was good]

Just about anything. [well he couldn't compete but he wasn't unskilled. He breaks from the circle and skates backwards on one leg, the hell of the other skate lightly scoring the ice] What do you want to see.

[in perfect honesty, that was about as good as it got, but he wasn't about to admit that out loud. Martin skates forward, following him: part tease, partly a way to avoid having to show that he isn't sure he can do reverse]

Let's see how far you can go on one foot, then.

Just that? Come on. [he's pretty much on one foot now, but he does lift it off the ice just a bit, ankle wobbling only a fraction]

Now you.

Well, I'm not going to ask you for a triple whatever it is right off the bat, now am I? That'd ruin the fun.

[now that they've been standing and talking for a moment, he's got his balance, so it's easy enough to lift his foot off the ice as well]

Your turn. Pick something.

[Alec watched him critically for a moment, setting the tip of his skate down before he nearly lost his own balance]

Do a spin.

[Martin nodded, considering, then gave it a college try. however, the result was something more out of elementary school. the toe of his skate caught on the ice, and his weight shifted unfavorably - he lost his balance and fell sideways, catching himself by reaching out an arm and putting a hand to the ice. rolling sideways, his other hand connected with the ground and kept him from faceplanting, but still: it was a challenge doomed to be short-lived]

Well.

[the word came out as a cloud of steam]

That's that, I suppose. Damn.

The department stores have spared no expense. Fifth Avenue is dressed to the nines with extravagant window displays all along the street, treating shoppers to a magical wonderland of creative creations.

The air is nippy, so it's time to duck into a café for a hot cocoa with a stick of peppermint, or into a shop to do a little light holiday shopping--there will be none of that online Amazonian nonsense!

Fell is not nearly done with shopping, but already he's laden with packages--or maybe he's foisted them off on one of the Crowley men this time. He's bright-eyed, rosy cheeked, marveling at all the decorations, at the families and couples out enjoying the evening. He even indulges in a rare selfie with some angelic décor. You might just find him sending a photo of an angel tree topper to his beau.

Not even the bustle of shoppers seems to get to him, at least until a young woman tries to nab the last copy of a new mystery book right from under his upturned nose. He smiles, but his eyes have turned an icy steel and his tone brooks no argument when he tells her terribly sorry, but it is spoken for.

Ellie, ever the planner, has scored herself one of those little wire carts that are the common possession of many New York vagrants. She rolls up beside Fell as he's wrestling with his bags.

"Got a little room in here to share, if you don't mind me poking around the shops with you." She beams. His own gift is already there, in a bag near the bottom, pre-wrapped and therefore free from any accidental discoveries.

Oh, that is clever. Not that you'd ever see Fell pulling around one of those carts, but he can appreciate the practicality.

"Thank you, dear girl," he said with relief, gently placing the more cumbersome of the packages into her cart to spare himself some space. "No, I'd welcome the company, really. You're always such a delight." He flexes his tired fingers and rearranges the packages in his grip now that he's freed up a hand. "What's still on your list? Anything in particular we're looking for?"

"I've got Alec and Ant'ny, but ... d'you know one of the other Different, girl named Lisa? She's an absolute sweetheart, and I thought I should get her a little something. I just have no clue what."

"She is a dear." He pauses to look at some scarves on display. There is a red and black one that would look just lovely on Anthony, but he's already bought him so many things already.

"I know she likes music? Her memories are of being in a band, if I recall correctly, and I believe she's received earrings from--well, you know. So perhaps something very cute in that vein?"

"The band, yes! She did say I'd just barely missed her birthday concert when I got here." Ellie beamed. "It's just, you know, I'm afraid of being That Person who gets her something musical just because it's what they know, and ends up finding out everyone else got her musical things. ... Maybe a nice pair of fuzzy slippers? Everyone needs a good pair of fuzzy slippers."

Ellie's determined to make her first Christmas in New York one to remember ... so of course she'll be out and about as much as possible. In between the ice skating and event-attending and enjoying the pervasive holiday cheer, however, she is determined to also help spread some where it is lacking. A co-worker helped her find the biggest Toys for Tots drive in the borough, and she's volunteered to help run one of the Pick-A-Family boards. It's stationed outside FAO Schwarz, a large balsa-wood cutout of a tree with ornaments taped on. Each ornament has a child's name and age on it, and if they're hung in a cluster, it's a family. She's bundled against the cold in a colorful scarf and a bright orange anorak, fingerless gloves on her hands as she holds marshall over the tablet which would, in Ye Analog Days, have been a clipboard and pen. She is also wearing a headband with felt reindeer antlers on it - a gift from a certain family member who is slowly remembering that she doesn't consider such things humiliating. Anyone approaching gets her sunniest smile.

"Hi! Care to pick a child off the tree? Make their Christmas a little brighter?"

In a brand new late night event the New York Botanical Gardens now glows with lights and colors of all kinds. The large glass conservatory is now a warm blue while the surrounding bushes glow a festive red, green, and white. Twinkle lights hang from the trees giving the ice carvers inspiration for their very temporary castles, dragons, swans, and reindeer. Everywhere you go some one seems to have a hot coffee or coco clutched in their hands.

The inside of the conservatory has been transformed too. Trains run across massive trestles styled to look like the local bridges and around New York's famous buildings which have all been lovingly crafted from natural materials.

In an added bonus for the kids one of the wings has been transformed into Santa's workshop. Here the elves man the camera for that perfect shot with jolly old Saint Nick... or in this case grumpy, timeless demonic stand-in. He wasn't exactly plump with a tummy that shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly, but he was at least wearing a white beard. It was only too bad it didn't match his flaming red hair at all.

Edited 2020-12-08 00:20 (UTC)

“Right kid, I don't have all day. Tell Santa what you want and then smile for the stupid camera.”

The young boy looked ashen, glancing at his mom for only a moment, before he finally spoke.

“I want a Nintendo Switch! But...” The young boy paled and glanced down at his shoes, “Mommy says we can't afford it.”

“It has been a rough year,” The mother spoke as if any of this needed to be explained, “I told Billy that even Santa might have to cut back some.”

Anthony looked between the pair of them before pointing at the camera and brilliantly thinking up something that would make the disappointed kid smile. “NAH! Don't worry about it. You want a Switch, you got it.”

The mom's easygoing expression transformed as quickly to murderous rage as Billy's transformed into bright and giddy, just in time for the camera to flash. As Billy took off to meet the candy cane elf, for everyone who visits Santa gets a candy cane, the irate mother stormed up the steps to Santa's golden throne.

“Why did you tell him that! I just got through saying it's been a rough year and we can't...”

“Shut up.” Ever eloquent our grumpy Santa, he stood and ferreted around behind the throne for a nicely wrapped package which was pressed into the mother's hands before they could reach for his neck. “I said not to worry about it. Merry Christmas.”

Anthony flopped back into his throne, trying not to notice the grateful way the stunned women's lip quivered like she was about to cry. That wouldn't do at all... having a bawling lady in the middle of Santa's workshop.

“Go on, get out of here. You're holding up the line!”

There were many more people out there waiting to meet grumpy Santa.

Time to jingle those bells!

Alec Crowley - Ice Skating

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shit I rolled a 17 this time what the hell Martin

behold a budding metaphor

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I need to stop using this d20 it likes him way too much

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HA FINALLY

Aziraphale - Christmas shopping

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omg I swear I thought I tagged you back here, I am so sorry <3

Ellie - Doing good Deeds

Anthony J. Crowley - New York Botanical Gardens Lights and Trains

Bonus - Sit on Santa's knee