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As we're nearing the end of November, it seems a bit pointless doing one for that month. So, we're going to do a special festive vignette that will cover November and December!
Here is your theme:
Out of Character:
It really was Christmas Eve. That didn't mean anything to the withering enthusiasm of an aging shaman. Gum was rubbing his wrinkled eyes at the worst bar in town. He looked out the small window next to the hand print covered door. Outside the snow came thick and the river through town had lost its flow to a thin veneer of ice. An old woman, alone for the winter, shuffled down the street with more bags than anybody was willing to help her with. And her husband went a winter or ten ago. Gum looked back into the dregs of his glass. Dull coals whimpered in the hearth. The stool next to his creaked aloud to the absence of company.
That's when an old spirit sat next to him and began to speak.
"You didn't see me coming, did you?" the man smiled with the warmth of all humanity, "I was eternal you know?"
It was a strange claim for such an expired life.
"I know you were," the shaman's words were thick with sympathy.
"I'm still not sure after so many years cheating the clock just how I ended up here."
"Everybody ends up here, we all do. No matter how alive we feel."
"I know, but..."
"Do not let it trouble you. My mother told me that worrying changes nothing. She was right."
A young woman, tempered by the unwelcoming environment, teased sentimental tunes out of the establishment's long wrecked piano. She was in the corner of the room, but she faded from focus like she was a memory of a life. Her music was part of the ether, so was she. Gum daren't look beyond the corner of his eye out of fear she might not be there and that her music would fade too. He just listened.
"You like the music, young fella?" the stranger saw Gum through time worn eyes.
"I do, sir," Gum offered the man reverence for what melancholy may come.
"So do I," he laughed. "We're not here, are we?"
"Of course you are," insisted Gum, not so much lying as concealing the reality of existence.
"I crashed, you know?"
"I know."
"Ya know, it's my job to get all them presents out to the wee kiddies. Who's gonna do it now?"
"I can make a bargain for you. You can ride tonight."
"I..." the old man's crystal eyes swelled cerulean.
"You can walk out the door. Go, do it now. Before my boss refuses me," Gum cracked his glum face with a stymied laugh. It was the warmth of just his humanity.
There was no great crashing sound. Rather, more of a twinkle of bells.
There was also the pitiful whirr of a sick machine, sputtering like choking man sucking for breath. It was that sound that caught Rayleigh's attention, as her mechanic ears were fine-tuned to such things. She paused mid-step, her head tilted like curious dog's as she isolated the noise. The source was close, within a mile by her best estimate, and coming from further up river. All thoughts of her holiday trip to Radasanth proper were lost, and she moved into a jog toward the direction of the noise.
Though she was a mousy woman, maxing out at a measly five foot, three inches, anyone who heard her would mistake her for a giant. Her footfalls were impossibly loud as she trudged through the lush green underbrush, managing to snap every hidden twig as she went.
As such, it was no surprise that the man she found in the small clearing was preparing to fight an army, not a single small woman in her early twenties. The deep lines of worry across his face softened slightly with the relief her appearance brought. She was just a little girl. She was no threat.
The emotions that cycled through Rayleigh's expressive face, however, were far more abundant. First, there was surprise, as she was not entirely sure what she had expected to find in the first place. It certainly was not this. Next, confusion, as her mind stumbled through the site before her. A sleek, red sled that belched smoke and shuddered. A handful of reindeer, who pawed impatiently at the dirt, the tiny bells that adorned their bridles and harnesses ringing cheerfully. And a man, dressed in a suit of deep crimson velvet. Then, there was recognition, her emerald eyes widening as she uttered a single word.
"Santa?"
She blinked at him, and he blinked back, as the pair were plunged into an uncomfortable silence. Then, finally, the stranger nodded. Now, the brunette's face lit with excitement. "I always knew you were real," she continued.
"I appreciate your faith in me," he answered, though there was an edge in his tone that suggested her beliefs were the absolute least of his worries.
Only then did the woman hesitate, realization dawning on her. "But why are you here?" His sleigh looked painfully out of place among the rich greens of Radasanth; it was a scene reserved instead for the frozen plains of northern Salvar.
Santa raked his fingers through his long white hair, and turned back to his rig. "The cursed thing quit on me," he explained. "Not sure why. Managed to land it, but I suspect we would have fallen out of the sky if we had waited any longer." Now, his hand flicked toward the plume of black smoke that roiled from beneath the sleigh. "Just started smoking."
Her initial reason for finding the meadow returned to her, piquing her interest once more. "Is that," she began slowly, peering around the portly man, "an engine?"
For the second time, he nodded. His expression bordered on sheepish as he explained, "I prefer to let people keep believing it is all magic, but this technology has been easier, and more reliable." He caught himself, and added, "until now."
Already, Rayleigh was shrugging her worn, leather pack off her shoulder. Her iron tools clinked against themselves pleasantly. "Want me to take a look?"
This seemed to catch the old man off-guard. "You think you can fix it?"
The smile she flashed him was devilish. "I know I can fix it."
It took a mere twenty minutes for Rayleigh to locate and attend to the problem. All the while, Santa paced back and forth, patting his reindeer, and rummaging through his overstuffed bag. To his credit, he never glanced under the sled to watch the girl work. Perhaps he had the same faith in her that she had in him. Or, more likely, he recognized that he would be no help at all. Regardless, he kept his distance until she emerged, covered in soot, and reeking of smoke and oil. But the grin she wore was stunning, her teeth a stark white against her black face.
"Is it done?" he asked. When she flashed him the thumbs up, he heaved a great sigh. "Good. I'm already behind schedule." He spared only enough time to give Rayleigh a firm, appreciative pat on the arm, before climbing up into his sleigh. His mittened hands jabbed at a couple of buttons that blended into the dash, twisted a knob, and heard nothing.
His expression soured. "I thought you fixed it," Santa demanded, rounding on the small girl who stood a short distance off.
"I did," she assured him, opting to ignore the accusatory tone. "But it is temporary, since I don't have any parts on me. You'll have key the instructions in faster, or they won't register."
"Every time I turn it off and on?" She nodded. The man tried again, once, twice, but to no avail. He moved far too slowly, too clumsily, and it was frustrating for the young mechanic to watch. When he completed his third attempt, moving at what Rayleigh considered a glacial pace, she threw her hands up, exasperated.
"Alright, move over," she announced, climbing into the sleigh beside him. "I'll do it."
What. The actual. Fuck?
Fenn hovered at the edge of the sleigh crash, staring into the bell-spangled, red-mangled wreckage. Daugi hovered just over his shoulder. She woofed and wagged her tail at the reindeer skittering reindeer, their harnesses tangled together and wrapped around each other. They jittery and nervous, rolling their heads around and stamping their feet in fright that just wouldn't end.
Possibly, that was Daugi’s fault; she couldn't help but eye them hungrily, her tongue poking out every so often to lick the drool off of her chops. If Fenn wasn’t holding her back with a firm hand gripping her scruff, they undoubtedly would’ve been the direwolf’s dinner.
Only a few moments earlier, this fucking sleigh had just up and crashed right in front of Fenn, slamming through an abandoned house and tearing a great gash through the street. A fat man cloaked in red robes had crawled out of the wreckage. Fenn had rushed over in panic, worried that the man was hurt - or that he would somehow be blamed for this. But from behind the man’s silver spectacles and bushy white eyebrows had shone something bright and uncomfortably generous. To the Fae's further confusion, the man winked at him and shoved a mysterious velvet sack smelling of peppermint and chocolate into his arms. The next thing he knew, the man disappeared in a burst of silver sparkles, spooking both the reindeer and Daugi.
How come these sorts of things were always happening to Fenn? Did fate derive all its kicks from screwing with him?
The bewildered Fae was still frozen in place, gripping the velvety crimson bag and staring slack-jawed at the glitter dust that had once Saint Nicholas. Daugi gave a soft wuff besides him to express her own surprise, before going back to drooling and pointedly eying the reindeer.
Fenn slowly pulled the mouth of the bag open and peered in. What greeted him caused the boy’s jaw to slacken, giving him a similar wistful expression to the one Daugi had when regarding at the reindeer. Colorful boxes wrapped in shiny foils and ribbons filled it to the brim. Each one was labeled with a name and an address. When Fenn stuck his hand into the sea of boxes, he couldn't seem to touch the bottom or the sides or the sack, no matter how far he reached. At the top of it all was a small note, scrawled in immaculate cursive on fancy gold paper. The note read thus;
Kindly stranger,
It seems that for one reason or another, I have been incapacitated and cannot complete my duties this year, so you must take up my mantle this holiday. In this sack is a map that will show you to the houses that still need presents delivered.
Good luck.
Fenn squinted at the note again before dropping it back in the bag. Who in their right mind would trust him with this? Santa’s got a few screws loose.
It was tempting to just run off with the bag and ignore the note. Very, very tempting. Days could be spent pouring through the gifts, unwrapping and playing with their toys and trinkets to his heart’s content. The bag alone was was a wonder unto itself; for all its many contents, it was no heavier than a pillow. How strange! He could use an enchantment like that on his satchel.
Considering his twitchy-itchy fingers and hard habits of taking without regard for others, it might have been unfortunate that this duty had ended up in the hands of Fenn, if all people. Yet, as tempting as it was to be selfish and take all of the gifts for himself… It sounded like it would be terrific fun to play Santa for a day. Certainly, it would be a new experience for the little Fae, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Fenn shrugged and tugged the golden drawstring around the top of the sack closed. Besides, he reasoned, carrying around such a big sack all the time would be awkward even if wasn't heavy. Better to get it off of his hands, and get into the spirit of his task.
A pointy red hat stuck out of rubble. The boy gleefully snatched it up and placed it upon his head. He grabbed a few bells and some broken twine as well and bounced up to Daugi, quickly weaving it all into a festive collar around her neck. There! Now they were ready. Daugi gave Fenn a confused bark as he mounted her, staring cross-eyed at this bell-spangled twine around her neck. Collars were an unfamiliar concept for her. There was something unnerving about hearing bells every time she turned her head.
Still, she shook it off and began trotting off on Fenn's command, giving one last longing look at the befuddled reindeer. Off to the first house on the map! This holiday was going to be a ho ho ho lot of shock for anyone expecting Santa tonight.
This Vignette will stay open until the 7th January 2017!
Ok, this vignette is slightly overdue but will now be judged! Good luck!
Right, then! There were three good submissions here. Let's take a look.
Gum
I've had the pleasure of judging your writing before. One of your strengths is that you are very efficient with your use of post length - you tell a story and try to make sure not a word is wasted or un-neccassary. This submission is no different save for the ending. Your technique was sublime, such as the way you presented the old lady and in a sentence managed to pull the heartstrings of the reader, putting a sad taint on the Christmas theme. The business end of the post that was relevant to the plot was perhaps a little short and the practicalities of exactly how the shaman would execute his bargain to get Santa back on track were left perhaps too much to the imagination. Not withstanding the ending, I really enjoyed the way you wrote this.
Rayleigh
Much in the same way that Gum impressed me with his efficiency, you equally impressed me with this well written content. I loved the way you put a little technological twist on the myth of the magical sleigh, which gave Rayleigh more relevance and also allowed her to deliver a solution to the problem and therefore meet the criteria of the vignette. It also went that extra mile and showed even Santa is a human being capable of being disgruntled by problems outside of his control. The annoyance he showed at being unable to process Rayleigh's instructions quickly enough and her own reaction to that was amusing but also gave me insight into Rayleigh's character which I consider valuable.
Fenn
I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that you are set for a bright future on this site, Fenn. Your piece
was extremely enjoyable, exploring not only how Fenn was going to help deal with the problem of Santa leaving him a rudimentary note asking for help but also delving into the slightly cheekier side of what would happen if the Fae snaffled the presents for himself, too. This was a great insight into his character and also provided something fresh. It made me laugh to think of him sat there amongst this pile of stolen gifts having the time of his life. My only issues were a couple of typos here and there which interrupted the flow a little bit. That is something easily resolved with a little spit and polish.
Results
Three posts and probably the hardest vignette to make a decision on in a while.
For pure fun factor, i'm declaring Fenn the winner of the Festive vignette! It was super, super close though because I enjoyed every post in just about equal proportions! Rayleigh claims second but honourable mention to Gum too. You all did a great job!
Rewards to follow!
Rewards:
Fenn receives 300 EXP, 200 GP and 2 AP!
Rayleigh receives 560 EXP, 150 GP and 1 AP!
Gum receives 200 EXP and 1 AP!
Well done to all involved. It was a tight contest!
All rewards added!