it's beginning to look a lot like christmas / weekly task + decoration

[clarence a.]

He had been told to find some decorations. Admittedly, Clarence was never someone particular skilled with crafts or visual arts, but he was very aware of the holidays and he loved them. He loved the songs, the food, the family. It was always happy. Well, it had been most years. Not his last one, but he didn't want to think about that. So, he'd gone out and began looking around for whatever might be used as decoration. He honestly wasn't even sure what to look for. He'd taken a bag with him and so far he'd gotten some rocks that were interesting shapes, sizes, and colors. Rocks didn't seem like very much fun to decorate but maybe he could find some paint or something to put on them. He also came across a few pine cones and shoved those into his bag.

---

"Put it higher, Clarence! Come on! You can do it!"
"If I reach any higher, I might fall off the ladder!" Even while he said the words, he was laughing, still reaching for the highest branch on the tree.
"No you won't! I'll keep you safe! The angel wants to be higher!"
"Alright, alright, I'm trying, Christine, just give me a minute-"

The warmth of the season dropped away and Thomas was falling through the ice, Clarence's throat hurt from screaming, flashes of a crowd outside their door yelling about witches.

---

Clarence was leaning against a tree, taking in deep, shivering breaths. He wasn't even sure how he ended up in the position but his body was shaking just slightly and his mind was racing, assaulted with thoughts he hadn't asked for. Slowly, his mind focused back on reality. The cold, crunchy snow beneath his paws. Paws. Things that belonged to an animal, with dark fur across them. Even with fur, he could feel the rough bark of the tree rubbing against his skin and the way it held still against his shivering form. Slowly, he seemed to gather his senses and picked up the bag, which he'd apparently dropped even though he had no recollection of letting it fall from his grasp. His chest hurt mildly but he ignored it. This was supposed to be fun. He would make it fun.

Clarence wandered around for quite some time, just gathering various materials like old branches, rocks, and a few pine cones when he was lucky, before returning to camp. He went exploring once he got there and was able to locate some paint and something else labeled "glitter" that looked pretty festive. He also identified a few bottles of glue, despite the fact they looked quite different from what he remembered, and brought those along too. He then spread out the natural and synthetic materials he'd collected and called out, "If anyone wants to make some holiday decorations, I've got some supplies here." He figured he should probably take part himself and picked up one of the rocks and some white paint, slowly getting to work on what he hoped would be a pleasant decoration. It wasn't until he started painting that he realized he was still shaking ever so slightly.   

LISTEN UP; HEAR THE PATRIOTS SHOUT

BLOOD LUST IN A HOLY WAR

© LEXASPERATED

[ORPHEUS]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]If Orpheus was entirely honest with both himself and other people, he would have to admit that he had never spent a single Christmas with more than one person. His dad had been a steady presence in his life, but after his death — he just couldn't. It was a time of year when he consistently found himself needing to be alone. Yet he was here, in this group, with these people. He hasn't met them all yet and already he's having an urge to run off again. Perhaps he's simply too stubborn to actually act on those desires, because to the rest of the people here, Orpheus would seem entirely confident in his future here. He introduces himself with a grin, pushes himself into conversations. Whatever troubles him stays perfectly hidden, which is more than he can say for a few people here. Not that there's anything wrong with showing pain.

It's the first thing he notices when he approaches Clarence's little station, smile small and private before he begins to busy himself with everything set in front of him. A pine cone first, rolled in front of him with a gentle, delicate touch. Like the other big cat, he has some bad memories of the holidays, but he would still enjoy himself as best as he could. Only after a long minute of silence does he make himself clear his throat and glance up from the pine cone. "Are you alright? You don't look so great."