SILENT NIGHT | OPEN

[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"]When others spoke of missing pieces, they typically meant in a puzzle or a mystery. Without those fragments, the full picture didn't make perfect sense and the story didn't pop off of the page. But when Orpheus spoke of missing pieces, they weren't things that made him difficult to be understood by a stranger. The first layer was always easy to see: he was flirtatious and curious and talkative, there was nothing special about that. No, the pieces he was missing went deeper than that, mattered only to him. A sort of restlessness has overtaken him as of late, whenever he stumbled over potholes in his own existence he could feel the jump. Maybe he was thinking about it more with the holiday season upon them again, his mind restlessly jumping through hoops to show him what he was missing, what he could have had. But thinking like that is exhausting, and all he wants to do is ignore it. That only ever works for a while.

He's tried to busy himself since he got here, with weekly tasks and reparation for the holidays. He greeted people at the border, pestered them about their speech — because when he was able to sit and think, nothing felt good. But somehow it all manages to worm its way back in even when he does something, and now he's calling it quits as best as he can.

After staying up all night on accident, unable to settle long enough to even doze off, exhaustion has gotten the better of the lion. Although a light snowfall dusts the ground outside of the observatory, it still manages to be comfortably warm inside. For now, Orpheus avoided the grand circle or — main circle or whatever these people called it. Too busy for someone who tottered a little bit with sleepiness and could hardly open his eyes. Instead, he had found himself in the planetarium, soft eyes on the sky projected above his head. It was dark and peaceful in here, though some part of him begins to miss the snowy sky. Winter always seemed to go by so fast on the coast, but this place is different. A little drearier, but pretty still. Besides, he couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to take in the scenery right now anyway.

It doesn't take long for the lion to settle down on the floor, kicking and twisting until he's comfortably on his back. His white stomach is bared to the world, paws in the air and eyes closed. His expression is clear and soft, almost perfectly innocent as his mind wanders off. Just an hour or so, that's all he needs. Then he can get back to Christmas.

[ATTICUS]

―――― Kit typically wasn't one to have trouble sleeping. Rather, he had gotten into a sort of habit of sleeping as minimally as possible in order to maximize his efficiency in what he did. Some months ago now, that would have been getting up early, traveling as long as he could, before finally making rest when it was too dark to logically continue onwards. At home, his birth home far from here, it would have been the span of time between his last few tasks and the beginning of his lessons the next morning. Where there were the few rare occasions that he slept in or went to bed early, it tended to be a habit now that he couldn't really break. Making his way into the observatory that late evening - or perhaps that early morning, depending on how one looked upon it- he lofted a paper bag filled with some christmas decorations. He figured that, given the holiday was so close, they ought to do some more decorating around here to make it more festive. Surely not all of their members celebrated Christmas specifically, but generalized holiday decorating was totally fine in his books.

However, when he made his way up to the Planetarium, he paused slowly as he spotted Orpheus laying upon the ground. He was a new member, but Kit had to say that so far, he had no strong opinions about him. He was kind enough, stayed out of trouble, and had gotten involved fairly quickly, but he would definatly top the books for managing to fall asleep up here. For a moment, as Kit stood in silence, he debated whether or not to wake the sleeping lion, his golden-eyed gaze briefly turning towards to the bag he held. Sure, sure, he was supposed to be a serious strong leader or whatever that meant, but even with his serious, stoic nature... Well, what's the harm? He set the bag down oh-so carefully to try and avoid it crinkling too loudly, carefully digging within it for a few of the decorations within. Then, with softly placed steps, he moved over, attempting to drape a scarf of shiny tinsel around Orpheus' neck, as well as put a pair of obnoxious Christmas-tree shaped light up glasses upon his face. With his work done, and hopefully without waking the lion, Atticus then calmly turned and began to put up some of the rest of the decorations around the area, working quietly and slowly as to let their sleeping lion lay, but there was no way he was going to miss the reaction to this.

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[AMBROISE]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Christmas. He hated it. The holiday wasn't all pretty decorations and candy and presents- not in his experience. It was just an excuse for everyone to get wasted -not that they ever really needed an excuse- and a day for them to go out, steal shit, come back for Ambroise to pick glass shards out of their skin where they'd gotten overzealous with smashing lights. Cleaning up after dumbasses had been his job since he was a kid dragged off the side of the road by masked fiends- the very same dumbasses he took care of later, for whom Christmas was just another opportunity to take and take. That'd been more of a problem when he was younger, closer to gentle memories of cookies and a tiny, worn tree. Got easier when he grew older.

The same way death became easier.

Hard to see Christmas now as anything but tainted and greedy. The lion stalked the halls, managing to avoid most people on his own; his glower shooed away anyone who did cross paths with him, though it was aimed more at the decorations strewn about. So loud, so obnoxious, so unnecessary. Reminded him of the sleeping lion. Christmas was probably his favorite holiday, wasn't it? That or- Valentine's Day. Seemed like the type to enjoy over-the-top shit, and he didn't particularly care if he was wrong about that. Wasn't like he planned on finding out the truth.

Hazel eyes went from the decorations placed on him, to Atticus stringing up more of the shit, and then back to the lion. He wasn't going to let him sleep. "You might oughta should wake up, couillon," Ambroise grunted, kicking at the slumbering feline's shoulder. "Trussed up like some kinda gaudy turkey."
[align=right][url=https://beastsofbeyond.com/index.php?topic=9216.msg56850#msg56850]INFORMATION

[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"]Atticus's idea of efficiency was an unfortunately familiar one. Although Orpheus didn't regularly drive himself into the dirt (not regularly, alright?) but he'd grown up with a man who did nothing but. He punished himself as he saved the world, and whenever the tiger had managed to fall asleep, it was usually broken up by nightmares. So perhaps their situations weren't entirely comparable. It was just enough to make the smallest connection — if he knew of the Seraph's habits, he might even have worried. But just like Kit has no strong opinions on him, he has nothing on him. Nothing to hate or to love. So far, it's a quiet, distant respect and maybe some silent understanding that he could one day feel more of it. He feels comfortable with almost everyone here, which is new to him. And good. He wouldn't have been able to sleep like this otherwise.

As it is, Orpheus is still a light sleeper. The faint noise of the bag and the sensation of something quietly draping over him both have the lion squirming where he sleeps, one paw extending and then relaxing. Although he seems to fight for consciousness, the closest he gets is a little wrinkle of his nose and scrunch of his eyes that fades away quickly — and rather hilariously. He stays on his back offering only stuttering half-inhales that gradually smooth out again, at least until Ambroise's paw hits his shoulder.

And see, maybe he can understand hating Christmas. For a reason like that, yeah, Orpheus would have been gentle. He loves Christmas because it reminds him of his dad. The gifts and hugs and convincing this giant, socially awkward (inept, really) man to wear a Santa hat and help him pass out presents. He loves Valentine's Day because it reminds him of the card he would leave, and the way the tiger had fallen apart when he heard exactly what he needed. That his kid loved him and wanted him to be here too, wanted him to stay. They both healed from their wounds in different ways, however incompatible they would seem, and he could accept that. What he couldn't really accept was waking him up like this.

The lion lets out a quiet yelp at the physical contact, his body immediately contorting until one small paw finds a solid surface (which... happens to be Ambroise, unfortunately) that he can push of off and roll away from. He regains his feet quickly, blinking through the glasses until he realizes that his skewed sight isn't actually due to exhaustion. "What'd you call me?" The words are a little slurred as he ducks his chin to his chest and finds some strange, prickly resistance. Tinsel? Tinsel. He's a Christmas tree. For some reason that makes him laugh, bright and ringing and cheerful even though he's still a little out of it. He had just relaxed into a deeper sleep before this guy. Asshole. He wouldn't linger there. "Was this you?" He accuses Atticus through a laugh, tipping the glasses off of his face to get a better look. "I hope you know I'm keeping these." They were terrible, which was kinda perfect.

[AMBROISE]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]The lion's expression barely shifted when he was used as a semi-launchpad for Orpheus to roll away, except to convey what was definitely an incredibly loud and obvious, "are you serious?" Yeah, sure, he knew how jumpy sleeping people could get- he'd lived with a whole group of paranoid fuckers who rigged their own mattresses and pillows out of fear someone'd try to gut them in their sleep. Which they probably would attempt. Ambroise was definitely tempted to on occasion, if he didn't know that the first people who'd pay for it were ones who didn't deserve it, so he kept his claws and his teeth to himself. At least Orpheus hadn't assaulted him, or anything at all violent. Ambroise couldn't say how well he'd react to physical aggression, not after- after Mila.

"I called you a gaudy turkey," he answered flatly, knowing full-well Orpheus was asking after the French, but he wasn't compelled to give him whatever answers he wanted. Of course the smaller lion thought it was just dandy he'd been outfitted in ridiculous shit, like it was Christmas come earlier- if that was possible. Christmas had probably arrived for these people in November. "At least I might can eat a turkey. Wouldn't have to keep looking at it." Actually- he could just leave. A fine idea.

[align=right][url=https://beastsofbeyond.com/index.php?topic=9216.msg56850#msg56850]INFORMATION

[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"]It shouldn't have bothered him, the way Ambroise's expression barely shifted as he stumbled to his feet. And it doesn't, not in the sense that he's annoyed or concerned or... anything, whatever, it doesn't matter. But some quiet part of him wanted to see what he would do with his features when surprised. Would his eyes widen? Would he wrinkle his nose when disgusted? As it is, there's only a subtle shift in his neutrality and it's annoying. The less he finds, the more he wants, and it's — obnoxious of him, the way he's going to press for more and more and more. He knows that already. Orpheus doesn't settle though, his eyes still trained on the other lion's face. He'd never gone so far as rigging a mattress, but he slept in trees and made sure he would hear even the quietest person getting too close to his space. He searched for dark, lonely places like this, even when he knows he should be safe. But there's no aggression, no.

"You know that's not what I meant," he huffs, though registering "gaudy turkey" again almost makes him smile. He hasn't really heard anyone say gaudy lately, and being called a turkey will probably always be a new thing for most people. Unless Ambroise had a habit of calling everyone that sorta thing. But hopefully he didn't always make comments about eating them. That has him raising an eyebrow and grinning mischievously, jumping in front of the larger male and tipping his head up to look at him better. "Oh I'm sure you'd love that," he teases, then tugs at the tinsel around his neck. Orpheus twists quickly, the decoration catching the light as he moves to drape it over Ambroise's neck. "C'mon porcupine, let's help him decorate, huh?"