[Open to All] A Merry Winter Festivus!

[Alyssa Snow]

Alyssa took a deep breath and held her mug close to her lips. The steam billowed up and helped to warm her chilled nose. She felt the warmth of the rum on her cheeks, flushing them a rosy hue. Her eyes drifted over the smiling faces, laughter, and cheer. Until, she witnessed some familiar figures from her past. One royal Emperor, betraying his usual purple ensemble in favor of a peppermint red. Another adorable red head doing her best to blend into the festivities, wool sweater and all. A mischievous rogue, lightly weaving through the holiday chaos to curiously plant an acorn atop a noble elf's head.

Alyssa perked up, bell ringing atop her hair, at the sight of her former comrade in arms. Eyes wide, she pushed herself from the comfort of her leather throne and scampered to Illara's lovely seclusion in the corner. On her way, she caught the shoulder of Vincent Cain, toppling a portion of her drink to the floor.

"Vince!" Alyssa shouted as though it were his fault. "Watch where you're going!"

She shot him a dirty look and narrowed her eyes. He made a retort, but she pursed her lips, shook her head, and continued onward with mess behind.

"Dog!" Alyssa shouted, oblivious to the way that might look and sound to others. "What're you doing in Bienost?! It's been, what, four - five months?!"

Weaving and dodging to the half elf's private reprieve from the celebration, Alyssa brought it to her. In the poorly lit, but equally fragrant corner of the tavern, Alyssa helped herself to a seat beside the girl.

"Hey, so... Who's that guy?" Alyssa whispered, her finger inconspicuously extended toward the dark haired elf. "And what's with the acorn? That an elf thing?"

Alyssa quirked a brow.

To Illara, a different girl sat beside her than the insecure wretch who fought with her against the abominations in Lindequalme. No longer would Alyssa fear herself, her reason for living. She was her own person now, an individual. Her personality no longer hid underneath a label. Afterall... It’s not what you’re made of that matters. It’s what you make of yourself. Though she did not heed those words immediately, they were now a part of her. Words from a misunderstood to a lost and confused, but equally wise and true.

[Siegfried]

Siegfried took another swig of his ale, but before his glass reached his lips a surprise splash lapped against his face. His head jostled from the sudden sensation of the alcohol facial and he inadvertently inhaled a minutia up his nose. Next came the controlled but unstoppable coughing mixed with the unpleasant burning of breathing ale. His mug smacked against the wooden table to permit his hands to swat against his face in the attempt to eradicate the problem only to make it worse.

"What in Galatirion's name?!" came his Elvish outburst in confusion.

The collateral damage ensued until the High Elf Bladesinger managed to contain the incident with the cuff of his sleeve. Siegfried batted the lashes of his vibrant amber eyes in an effort to blink away the residual moisture. In the process, his gaze fell to the frothy mug on the table before him. Floating amidst the fizzing surface, a single acorn bobbed in and out of view. The Elven Noble snatched the wooden tankard by the handle to examine his mortal enemy with greater precision and zeal.

"An... acorn?" he mumbled.

Immediately his gaze shot toward the rafters. Part of him expected a rodent to be peering down upon him with a squeak and a scoff. Instead, the only thing his keen eyes found was the tinsel, mistletoe, ethereal lights, and candelabra woven between the support beams. He racked his mind and with a confused expression, concluded that the fruit of the oak was foreign and out of place. He took one last look at the seed in his mug with ire and bewilderment.

"Mind if I join you?" The voice was petite, musical, and unexpected.

Yet, it successfully pulled his attention away from the mystery at hand to the young human girl who stood across the table. Part a look of confusion and part a look of shock, Siegfried opened his mouth to reply, but stalled on the words.

"You're alone. I'm alone too. Might as well sit together, so people don't know how alone we are, huh?" She paused. "That came out a lot harsher than I had anticipated."

With the warmth of brew still on his cheeks, the Elven swordsman loosed a short chuckle paired with an inviting smile.

"No, no." He began in his fluent and refined Tradespeak. "By all means, join me. I'd welcome the company."

Siegfried gestured to the seat beside him which faced outward toward the other occupants. His ethics scolded him for not pulling the chair for her, but his wisdom applauded his decision to avoid testing his current state of balance and finesse.

"I much do like your sweater," he complimented. "Would you care for a drink? The food here is also worth the coin."

As he watched for her response, the corner of his eye noted the foreign object in his own glass. A replacement was overdue for himself as well. So, with his hand, he flagged the attention of the barkeep and prepared to call an order.

[realize.real.lies]

I couldn't help but scan the people around me and watching them share in the merry festivities, a small sad smile danced across my crimson lips as I thought of my own mother she always loved the holidays. Taking a large sip of my drink I let the taste linger on my tongue before swallowing it, sighing softly I ran a hand through my thick corkscrewed curled hair as I always did when feeling out of place which was more times than not. Chewing on my lower lip I was off in my own world when on of the staff accidently bumped the hand that held my drink causing my to drop it to avoid from spilling the rest of what remained in the cup on the floor causing it to shatter. Most of the people that occupied the space around her turned to look at the commotion.

"Shit!"

The girl that bumped me her innocent face filled with horror as I shot out of my seat, "oh my goddess I am so sorry ma'am!!! I will get you a new drink free of charge!" As she was babbling on I couldn't help but feel bad my annoyance diminishing the annoyance that was just once on my face. "Hey it's okay it happens especially with how crowded it is in here," my voice was light and carefree as I knelt down to help the already scrambling girl pick up the pieces. "My boss is gonna be so pissed and now every one is staring at me.." Her words faded off as the poor girls cheeks turned red I honestly did feel horrible for the thing so I stood up. Placing my hands on the curve of my hips clearing my throat, "have you never seen someone drop their drink before?" My tone was a bit harsher than I probably should have said it but how rude were they watching that girl because she bumped me and I dropped my drink. After my out burst most of the people went back to doing what they were previously doing before all the excitement.

All the shards were cleaned and swept up finally, the girl smiled softly, "thank you so much ma'am honestly it was kind of you to standing up for me so everyone would stop looking at me and well for taking the wrap pretty much." Feeling a bit awkward I just murmured you're welcome as she scurried away to replace my drink with a new one. Pinching the bridge of my nose in between my thumb and index finger as I was starting to feel the lack of sleep with a head ache coming on. Coming back to reality I watched the rest of the people around me with their loved ones and or friends. A wave of loneliness hit me all to hard as a frown caressed my plump lips as my life was all about being alone after my mother Nikta was murdered with a withdrawn father like mine.

Brought back out my deep thoughts by someone clearing there throats I looked up expecting to see the girl waitress but it was just my replacement drink that sat in front of me on the table and a shot of some clear liquid next to it. Looking around I was a bit confused but shrugged it off taking the shot in my hand and tossing my head back swallowing it quickly. I could feel the burn trail down my throat into my stomach warming my body and sending a slight violent shiver rippling down my spine. "Oh God what the hell was that just a shot of?" Taking a drink of my spiked apple cider attempting to wash the fowl taste of whatever the clear liquid was out of my mouth.

[The Mongrel]

Snow looks a lot nicer when you can watch it sparkle down from the vantage of a cozy seat. Food and drink in hand, I'd turned most of my attention to the storm instead of the crowd, paying just enough attention to Siegfried to notice just how well the acorn went over. As long as I live, I swear he'll never live down the Serenti Squirrel Incident. Really, it was his own fault he got crushed. The hangover in the morning would also be his fault, but after what had happened in the Red Forest, it was good to see him relaxed enough to enjoy a pint or five. He'd earned it. And I was never going to tell him that, so help me Aurient.

And so help me Megillion, if I had to pull him out of a puddle of his own vomit at the end of the night, I was going to slit his throat in the street and leave him to bleed out.

For a little while, my meal was my only company. Hot pastry, liberally doused with seasonings and filled with mushrooms, spinach, cheese, and a little bit of chicken complemented a large tankard of steamy, spicy, heady, bittersweet rum. I was going to have to watch that; the booze was strong and I don't let myself get drunk. Call it force of habit - a thief who's slow and clumsy from alcohol has a better chance at becoming a dead thief. It was a good meal, made with what the humans would call "love." In context, I think "love" is another word for "butter." Since my destination was some three hundred miles away and I wouldn't have a chance for a proper meal until I got there, the tremendous portion of grease and carbohydrates would be perfect fuel. I almost couldn't have asked for better.

My isolation was short-lived. A high-pitched voice cut through the din like a knife, calling a name I'd been given by a self-described Arsehole. The voice preceded a chipper blonde plopping herself in the chair next to mine and rapid-firing a list of questions.

"You look well, Ditz," I acknowledged, shoving my fishtail braid over my shoulder and turning so I faced the room more than the window. "I am in Benoist because..." I bit my lip; the urge to lie was almost overwhelming. The habit of lying was so deeply ingrained over half of my life that telling the truth - the truth that would serve me better in the Raiaera I'd woken to after the Day of Burning - was nearly impossible. "Benoist was the first Raiaeran city I could find charter to out of Scara Brae. I'm on my way to Alydia Ettermire's pet project in the Plaguelands on the request of a friend. I'm what they call 'good press' after the whole thing with Pode."

Surely Alyssa - one of the five to face the Aspects of the Witch - had heard it was a Raiaeran halfbreed who "struck the final blow." I was the only one of my kind who had come.

"That Bladesinger..." is one of the team that pulled my sorry ass out of the forest when Pode damn near killed me. Not technically a lie, but not the whole truth. "...He's my older half-brother. Siegfried Alfheim, by name. The acorn is a family in-joke. I'm not too keen on interacting with him right now, but thought I'd pick on him."

I watched a petit human girl - a young adult, doubtful she'd reached her first quarter century yet - approach my brother. I saw the look on his face, the drunken attraction. She said something about being alone, which was a line I'd heard clumsy young hookers use on men as drunk as Sieg was, but none in sweaters as eye-rippingly hideous as that one was wearing. He must be even more drunk than I thought to compliment her on it. How many has he even had? I only counted four mugs, but maybe some were cleared away...

Either my brother was ten ales in, or he was a featherweight.

"Heh. Look at him, getting some play. Can't blame her too much; he's very pretty. But it'll never last." I shoved another bite of heavily-buttered pastry into my mouth and laced my fingers, leaning into the table. "He'sha moody bashtard. This should prove hilarious."

I slid my attention back to Alyssa. "I don't think we should go by the insulting monikers given us by the Jackass. Pode called you Alyssa Snow, I remember. And my name is Illara Alfheim." She'd probably already had that figured out, if she hadn't remembered the Red Witch calling us out for our weaknesses. I was a hero in my homeland, after all.

[K-Zu-Ziro]

The positivity of the 1960s pumped its beat from the banks of the River Mersey. Mental illness held the young, disproportionately. So the vibes of his time and place failed to fill his veins, opinion or not, it was because of a chemical imbalance. Chemistry was his problem, trauma was to become hers. Liverpool sat on the north bank of the river. The Wirral sat on the southern banks. A flower girl thrilled by her generation, watched a scrawny t-shirt and bell bottoms wade into the waters where the river swirled with the Irish sea. She watched, wondering when he'd break into a swim. It was unusual to swim in the area because of the strong currents in the water, but some people did it on hot days. England got hot once in a while. It was January though, bleak and icy. He just waded into the waves.

It didn't take a physical body to toss and turn. Mux Drik continued to dream of the foreign world's past, present and future. Some of it curiously boring, some of it tragic, some of it energetic. It was just flashes of their lives.

Meanwhile, the festivities above continued. Metal rails rallied between snack size whirligigs, carved cogs, glossy gears and pinched tight pulleys. One of the upper corners of the Aces High had been equipped with a Rube Goldberg machine. The time wasted creating it was customary. It suddenly span and clicked into motion, moving with all the superfluous dingles and dongles required to captivate the average little girl or boy. A small keg dropped from a hatch in the ceiling and rattled on the brass tracks and began to roll.

[Rayleigh]

Though the elf turned to hail the nearest waiter, Rayleigh's emerald gaze did not waver from his form as she dropped into the chair. In fact, it intensified as she studied him more closely. He likes my sweater? she questioned silently, scanning him for raised eyebrows, or other tell-tale signs of sarcasm. But when he turned back to her, ale-flushed face split by a wide grin, some of her worry faded.

"Ahhh, no," she answered suddenly, recognizing the expectant twinkle in his hazel eyes, and realizing that he was waiting on her order. There were few things that Ray hated more than having someone spend money on her, especially a stranger. Her father had brought her up to distrust handouts, and besides, then the handsome elf might feel that she owed him something. "I'm all set." With much flourish, the young woman stretched her small body toward the nearest table, and drew one of mugs closer to her. It was half-filled with the dark ale, which sloshed about wildly as she settled back into her seat. "See?" she asked, holding the drink up for good measure.

When the elf turned back to complete his order, satisfied that his new companion was taken care of, the brunette brought the lip of the mug to rest just below her nose. She inhaled deeply. It did not smell like poison. Probably safe drink. Her face was masked by the bottom of the enormous mug by the time Siegfried faced her once more.

Once she came up for air, Ray peered over her mug at him. So far, he was very unlike the people she had spent the past few months with. More sophisticated. Better dressed. Not an asshole, she noted, thankfully. She also found herself fascinated by his haircolor, and she did not hesitate to share that with him. "I'm glad you like my sweater." Someone left it in an inn once, and I took it, just in case. "I really like your hair."

[Izvilvin]

Cool, blonde ale greeted Izvilvin's throat like a long-overdue storm in a blasted land. He closed his violet eyes and savored the drink with slow, ravenous gulps before setting the mug down once more.

He was more awake then, and turned slightly in his stool to face away from the bar and the nearby corner, peering out among the others in the Aces High. There was warmth here, and joy, and it warmed him as much as the mead. He tried to find the woman he'd seen just a glance of, moments before, but didn't spot her among the crowd. He smirked at himself for searching.

Izvilvin was caught with that look on his face as two men approached him, one leaning on the bar to block his view and the other just to the side. They weren't balanced, their eyes were bloodshot, and he could smell their stench easily. Very, very drunk, as well as very, very ugly humans had taken issue with his presence.

"S'funny?" the one at the bar asked, a furred brown collar atop his shoulders, on a wrinkled coat, and a similarly-colored mustache above his lip.

His compatriot leaned forward and mumbled something akin to "Yawassofunny," which might have also been a question.

There was no way to respond, he knew, for he'd had similar conversations many times before, back when he was younger and less experienced with the world outside of Alerar. Normally he knew better than to put himself in a crowd of humans and elves, especially to linger around longer than was required. The drow were not as despised as he'd once thought, but that didn't mean that people like these two didn't exist.

"I drink," he said, and motioned to his mug, "and then go."

His accent was thick with the melodic-but-sharp pronunciation of his people, and the two humans looked to one another confusedly. They faced him again with more annoyance in their expressions. "What?" the one at the bar yelled, quite a bit louder, drawing more attention from nearby than Izvilvin deemed safe.

"Ya shouldn't be here," the other demanded, his voice a little clearer now. "Get on... Get on out, already!"

These two were growing too loud, but Izvilvin had a room here that he was not willing to abandon just yet - the next ship toward his destination was not leaving for two days. He was also not willing to get into a fight in this place, and especially with these two fools. Idiots they were, not he didn't think them worthy of pain and suffering. It was a complicated world.

Izvilvin reached for his mug, but it was slapped away and off of the countertop, crashing onto the floor nearby. The man at the bar grinned, and that expression quickly turned into a snarl.

"Don't come back 'ere, black elf."

Izvilvin didn't see any reasonable option but to leave, and so with a quick glance across those nearby, he stood up to do just that.

[Logan]

For the first time in Thayne knows how long, Logan finally had a reason to celebrate the holidays. Friends, both from within the ranks of the Tarot Hierarchy and from outside their ranks, and those close enough to be considered family found their way into his life. In years past when the holiday season arrived, the psion tended to spend it alone, or at the least sharing it with mere acquaintances. He wasn't sure what changed, but someone had organized a nice little get together in Beinost of all places. Far be it for him to not show up to such an event.

Logan pushed open the wooden doors, and entered quietly. All around him, unfamiliar faces, and even a few relatively familiar faces, mingled with each other. He said hi to a couple of people he recognized, but mostly kept to himself as he made his way to the bar. If there was one thing a celebration had, it was good booze.

"What'll it be," the bartender asked with a thick dwarven accent.

The telepath thought for a moment, then smirked.

"Whiskey on the rocks."

As the barkeeper set about finding the right bottle and pouring the liquid, Logan glanced around the room. Alyssa and Vince both made it, apparently, though one of them appeared to sway a little more than the other. It seemed the elf he'd bought his bow from had also shown up, which might make for some interesting conversation at the very least. He caught sight of McKinley, his friend from a couple of months back, and made a mental note to see how she was doing. There was also Rayleigh, which wasn't much of a surprise, though he wasn't sure if he should approach her to talk about her recently leaving the Hierarchy, or if he would be better off leaving well enough alone.

"Whiskey on the rocks," the voice of the bartender pulled the psion's attention back to the bar.

Logan tossed a couple of gold pieces onto the wooden bar, and he nodded his appreciation to the barkeep. He turned back to the crowd, and made his way through the throngs to his red-headed friend.

"Hey Kinley, how's everything going? Any trouble with your other friends since we last talked?"

[loves.blessing.]

McKinley was all but relaxed for the simple fact this was the farthest that she has been from her dire wolf Nymeria, as if she knew of her distress the tall, slender wolf appeared at her window. Chewing on her lower lip for a moment Kinley nodded her head towards the entrance. "I can't believe I am going to do this..." Quickly she opened the door slowly to not chime the bell to loudly, as her dear companion entered the tavern as she hurried back to her seat with the medium size wolf in to behind her. Sitting down she giggled into her hand as Nymeria laid at her feet as Kinley curled up in the large comfy chair. Her fingers curled around her cup as she took another sip before setting her plate on the floor that had the remainder of her scraps of meat and potatoes. The dire wolf chuffed with approval before lapping up the left overs.

Watching the snow slowly drift to the ground she smiled gently her thoughts brought to Isadora the sweet latin woman that had raised her. Though her smile slowly started to fall into a frown as her heart started to ache with the thoughts of the woman that hadn't shown her love but didn't have to for Kinley to know she was. She was brought out of her thoughts as Nymeria growled slight and than the sound of a familiar voice filled her ears. Looking up she was greeted with the male known as Logan that she had met and befriended a few months before hand. Her cheeks inflamed with the crimson color making her freckles that scattered across her cheeks and nose more prominent to the eye. She watched as he glanced down at Nymeria before she realized that the wolf was still growling softly at the male. Snapping her fingers her companion looked at her for a moment before laying her head back down, nervously Kinley glanced back up at the male giving him an apologetic look.

"I.. I am sorry she is just very protective over me.."

Tucking a strand of her fiery mane behind her ear nervously she chewed on her lower lip when he spoke of the thugs that Joel had hired a few months back to bring her back to him. Clearing her throat she took a long drag of her spiked hot chocolate before she found the words to answer, "H..Hey Logan, I have been on the run for a few months... But I feel that is going to come to an end very soon.."

[realize.real.lies]

After I washed that good awful taste out of my mouth I couldn't help but be drawn to the bar as a fight seemed to be brewing up at the counter. Willing my vampire genes to heighten my hearing a tad be more I finally was able to pick up bits and pieces of the conversation and what the two drunken males were saying to the lone stranger. When they started the besmirch the male for what he was my blood instantly started to boil. Gripping my cup a little to hard with anger I stood up walking over to the bar, my heels clicking feverishly against the wooden floor as I squeezed my way through the crowd. Draining the newly full cup I placed it on the counter placing myself in between the two drunken bastards. "How'sss it goinnn hot stufffff." His words slurred heavily as the smell of his rancid breath assaulted my nostrils.

Quickly I thought on my feet grabbing the hand of the stranger, as he turned I could see the confusion on his face, willing him not to freak out from me holding his hand in mine I turned back to the two males. Placing his hand on my hip so that my hands were free I could see the look of disgust on the twos faces, "ya'know what he is right?" The one on my left popped the t at the end of the word harshly as I rolled my eyes with annoyance. "Yes I know who and what he is but that isn't what I came over here for." I could feel the sinister grin caress my plump lips as I saw a lit candle in front of me. Running my left hand over the flames and watching the fire dance around avoiding my skin.

"You do know the saying, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?" Looking at the two blokes as confusion laced through their facial features I could even feel the intense stare of the stranger as I took my free hand placing it on top of his as it still laid lightly on my hip. "Well you have scorned my love here because of something that happened long ago and most have gotten over so unless you want to feel my wrath I advise you to appease him with one hell of an apology." My voice was call yet eerily scary as the fire engulfed my hand. Bringing it closer to my face the flames slowly trickled down my finger tips into my palm forming a fire ball, a few gasp were heard on either side of her. "So...Sorry man no need to get... Hostile." Giggling softly as she watched them scurry out of the tavern roughly pushing passed the crowd I let the fire die out in my hand I turned to the bar tender and ordered the male a new ale since those assholes had split his other one.

When the mug of ale was placed in front of me I grabbed it and turned to a very confused looking man, holding the mug out to him I offered him a small smile. "Here, this is for you."