DON'T BELIEVE IN CHRISTMAS + GIFT GALA

[THEM]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]He hasn't been to a party - a good party - in a long time. He's kept himself carefully contained up to this point, his mannerisms practiced, his natural smile hardened to a firm line across his face; he was cultivating an image of respectability, at least until it was safe to loosen up his guard. But now, with Leroy's voice ringing out through the center of town, he finally decided that this night's indulgence (a rare event, but always a devout practice) was well-earned.

The room is warm compared to the stinging winds that tunneled through the town square. Kaz has taken to using his neck scarf as a means to keep his nose warm, head tucked low into the folded silk; when he steps inside the tavern, though, he pauses to adjust the tie and smooth his ascot down his chest again. There's more than the fire's warmth permeating the room - a sense of camaraderie swells in the air, a ragtag family held together loosely at the seams by an equally mismatched leader. He takes note, studies the atmosphere a little. Leroy is skilled at maintaining morale, if anything.

But Kaz realizes quickly that his mind is still set on work, and while he wants to be able to flick a switch and turn that mindset off just for one night, it usually takes a little more effort to hit the brakes. He's kind of shameless, nonchalant as he makes a beeline for the bar, hardly pausing to nod his acknowledgement to the General before he sidles behind the counter to find something harder than cider and hot cocoa. It's only after he knocks back a drink that he makes his way back to the throng of activity, mostly centered near the broad hearth. He had yet to notice the presents under the tree (much less Crowley slithering passive-aggressively among them, sulking as he would).

"It's a nice party," Kaz comments, because the majority of his thoughts have already been spoken. The food does smell great, the atmosphere is wonderful, the tavern renovation went over perfectly - all things Leroy probably knows, and probably doesn't need to hear for the twentieth time that evening.

The cheetah sits back by the fire, waits for his drink to kick in. (He'd make a party of this, yet.)

[toboggan]

Commendable reception and a lofty turnout connoted that the General's first shindig was a staggering success.

He couldn't distinguish whether the abundance of favourable remarks slung his way were authentic assessments or bogus observations made in hopes of acquiring some brownie points. Before he even began the party's decorating phase, the canine seriously doubted that the outcome of his drudgery would be anything worthwhile. He viewed himself as a bumbling klutz, one that lacked a knack for creativity, so hearing praise was not anything he had bargained for. Though, regardless of it being genuine or not, the stupendous support shown by his attendants elevated Leroy. Perhaps the Tanglers' delight partially derived from surprise. He understood why if that were the case. Hell, he hardly believed it himself, how well everything ended up, what with how artistically inclined he was not. In fact, most - if not all - of the ornament placement stemmed out of not the hound's own mind, but a few crumpled vintage holiday magazines. If they hadn't been located in a forsaken niche within the library, then most - if not all - of the decorations present would cease to exist.

Aurum was the first to enter, apparently thrilled that his establishment had been warped into a merry lounge. The lion's field of vision centered on the two very large doors that fronted the building. Either he simply waited for more faces to show, or perhaps he expected a certain someone. Next to make the scene was Feza. According to the vividly-coloured snow leopard, the tavern was very clearly festive. Albeit a tad elementary, her message summoned a toothy grin to the leader's maw, which replaced his modest smirk. Soon after Feza's admission, Piers wordlessly enters, finding his way to the cookies. Luckily for the child, the baked goods were not the wolfhound's creations. If that were the case, the miniature feline would already be convulsing on the floorboards. No, the cookies Leroy sought from some willing NPCs, NPCs he knew to dabble in the art of baking (though he did not disclose as to why he needed them, in order to retain the upcoming surprise). Following Piers was an arachnid. The mere debut of the creature forced the cur to shudder - not due to fear or dismay, but disbelief. This spider heavily reminded him of a past tribemate of the year prior to the current one. And subsequent to the arachnid approaching and asking a question in Abathur's significant speech pattern, the General realized that he may need to drop by the being's place sometime later. Leroy doesnt answer, for the explanation that the spider desired would come very shortly.

Kiira is the next to enter the fray, along with a... a snake. Both of them refrain from speaking, though the medic exhibits her esteem through a paw wave. The serpent, however, doesn't do anything, which draws a bewildered glance from the wolfhound. He can't even tell if the thing's feral or not. He takes a moment to ponder, finally deciding that he'd squish it if it tried anything funny. For now, however, it was fine where it was. And then Arrow comes in; what the fuck. She died. She died right in front of him. How could she- he halts himself from continuing, realizing the hypocrisy of him freaking out at the return of a deceased individual. Still, it was fairly shocking to see her - perhaps the two of them could meet up afterwards.  Torren, Moth, and Kaz are the last to arrive, each muttering their approval respectively.

When the flow of appearing Tanglers comes to a standstill, the General makes his move. "Everyone, welcome to the Great Gift Gala - or whatever the fuck I called it. I forget." He speaks assuredly, confident from the overwhelming support displayed by those present. "In chronological order, tonight's celebration will kinda go like this: gifts, feast. Exciting, i know." Leroy rotates his figure to face the heaping mass of presents that rested ardently under the scraggly tree. He was mostly anticipating this segment of the Gala, for he could not for the life of him to see the looks on their faces upon opening their package. This wasn't because these were the type of gifts that brought joy - nay, in actuality, it was quite the opposite. "First things first," he begins, "the gifts. I figured that most of ya are gonna have a decent enough holiday, so I made sure that these gifts ain't the sort ya want to find under the tree. Weird ones. But I mean, if they make ya happy, then good on ya. I sorta just went lookin' around and boxed up anything interesting I could find, regardless of it lookin' gift-like or not." It was true. The mongrel spent about a whole day's worth of scavenging around the junkyard, and when he gave up on that, he moved on to the shore, just in case any curious oddities had washed up on the territory's sandy recesses. "But that ain't the point. The point is that we all... err... have fun."

"The rules are simple. Everyone chooses one random gift. One at a time, ya will go up to the tree, and open any one of these mighty fine presents here. After that is done, get out of the way, because someone else is gonna open theirs after. When all the gifts are opened, we'll eat. I got some turkeys roastin' over a fire."

"Also, I should note that there are probably more gifts than there are Tanglers. This is because I don't know how to fucking count. Like at all. So yeah, all excess gifts will be blown to smithereens later."

"And oh yeah. If ya get a ticket to the mistletoe room, head to the room back there with the sign." At that, he directs his snout towards one of the back rooms, which had a wooden board nailed above the doorway. On the board was words arranged in black paint, reading 'mislto room'. "Do whatever ya want while in there," he suggests slyly, "there ain't nothin' too risqué for the mistletoe room. Though I'd appreciate it if ya didn't just talk when ya are in there, because there's only two passes, and I don't want 'em wasted. Don't worry about nothin' comin' back to bite ya later, though; what happens in the mistletoe room stays in the mistletoe room."

"So yeah, someone start by grabbin' a gift."

// AT THIS POINT, IF YOU WANT TO REPLY BUT DIDN'T GET A GIFT DMED TO YOU, SHOOT ME A DM EITHER ON SITE OR OVER DISCORD (MY USERNAME ON DISCORD IS butterscotch#3021)

[Crow Roux]

[align=center][div style="width: 55%; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]
Despite what Aurum might have been thinking, Crow willingly dragged himself out of his home, but for different reasons. He had entirely forgotten what Leroy was out doing, and after the hound's long absence, he began to grow antsy, so he wandered about on wobbly paws until he found himself at the entrance of the tavern. Oh. He said he'd be here.

Perhaps the feline wasn't quite as stupid as he assumed himself to be. Crow nudged a door open hesitantly, blinking as he was met with candlelight and voices, and his nose wrinkled at the sudden smell of food. Instant regret; he should have stayed home. Nope. He was going to look for Leroy. That was the reason he left his house in the first place. To his relief, the hound was quite easy to locate, and Crow made haste to take a seat and rest his cheek against Leroy's leg, his eyes wandering across his figure. "Is there a lock on door to the mistletoe room..?"

[wormwood.]

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck

with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest

The room was alight with life and talking before Aurum knew it, and he couldn't say that he was disappointed by such an occurrence. So many people had shown up, and the Captain couldn't help the small smile that lingered on his muzzle as he looked them over one by one. Feza, – no real surprise there – Piers, Abathur, Kiira, Arrow, Torren, Moth, Miller, hell, even Crow had gotten in on the action, much to the lion's surprise. Aside from all of them, of course, there was Crowley. Immediately as the snake entered, Aurum felt that odd sort of tingly feeling fill his chest, unsure if it was utter anxiety or happiness. Whatever it was, it was definitely because of seeing Crowley, and he immediately wished he could just shove it away to wherever the hell it had come from. This was supposed to be a happy social event, not some angstfest where he bemoaned about how Crowley didn't love him back – even if the other hadn't actually said as much, and had just sort of told him to wait. Either way, he ripped his one good eye away from the reptile after only one long moment, not wanting to seem as though he was staring. Eager to distract himself, he listened intently to Leroy's little speech about the event, nodding along with most of what he said. Gifts, and feast. It sounded pretty damn good to the lion, although honestly probably any distraction would've sounded good to him right now. The whole thing about the mistletoe room made Aurum raise an eyebrow, mainly because he didn't really think anybody would be doing anything as interesting as Leroy had hoped. Still, Aurum wasn't about to kill the hound's dreams, and he just smiled before chuckling and nodding. Perhaps the gifts wouldn't be that amazing – as Leroy himself had implied – and Aurum certainly wasn't looking forward to cleaning up the tavern after all of this, but he was glad to see what Leroy had put together all on his own, and how happy it seemed to be making everyone, himself included.

The Captain hung back for a moment after Leroy was finished with his explanation, not wanting to hog the spotlight by being the first to grab a present. After all, he had enough attention given to him with his various smaller events as of late, as well as the construction of the tavern itself, surely someone else could do this? However, it seemed that after a long moment of no one stepping forward, everyone was too frightened by whatever could possibly be within the gifts that Leroy had prepared for the event. Nobody was moving, and even Crow's arrival didn't spur anyone into action, so Aurum just rolled his eyes a little bit, stretching before stepping up to the tree. He picked a small yellowish box, wrapped messily – and more than likely personally by Leroy. Pulling it forward a bit, he carefully tore the wrapping paper from the box, tearing it open with his teeth very slowly as not to destroy it entirely. Once the container was open, Aurum blinked in slight surprise, tilting his head at the contents within. The first thing he could see was... a tie. A rather interesting tie, considering it had a piano key pattern on it. It was silly, and cute, and... probably wouldn't fit around Aurum's neck for shit. Still, it was much better than any awful trash that Aurum could've thought up for Leroy to stick in a box, so he found himself smiling despite it. He gently lifted the tie up with a paw... before freezing when he saw a paper slip in the box as well. Heart sinking a bit, Aurum put the tie aside before lifting up the paper as well, wincing when he saw the words "missltow room" written sloppily on the slip. He wasn't sure whether he was more horrified by the bad spelling, or the fact that he was going to have to go to the mistletoe room. He heavily considered just shoving the slip back inside the box and pretending it hadn't been there, but... everyone was watching him, and he doubted that would work very well. He sighed and tucked the tie and the slip back into the box, pulling it over to the side so that he would be out of the way. Once he had, he looked at Leroy, flicking a wing at the General as he rumbled softly, "...Thanks, Leroy. I'm not sure the tie will actually fit over my mane, but it is very nice." He didn't mention the slip of paper, mainly because he wasn't sure how to feel about it, honestly. He supposed it depended on who the hell was on the other side of the other slip of paper, but... he also couldn't imagine anyone he would be particularly pleased with. Crowley, perhaps, but... he also wasn't sure how pleased he would be to actually have to confront things face to face with the snake... suddenly he felt a bit sick.

Intent on getting rid of the nauseated feeling that had come over him, the lion turned around and headed for where the food was, tipping back yet another drink. He wasn't exactly intent on getting drunk tonight, but it did settle his nerves a bit, and he soon returned back to the group afterwards, getting comfortable. He would stay and watch a few more gifts get unwrapped before heading back to the mistletoe room, needing a chance to ready himself before going back to whatever the hell would happen in there. Hopefully whoever ended up in the room along with him was like... Moth, maybe. Then they could probably just hug or snuggle and talk, since the two of them were practically siblings.

template by orion