A Midwinter's All-Skate

[sunbaked_baker]

And so Milliways came to the shortest day of the year, the longest night. But things at the end of the universe were not so dark - the bar room was decorated with brilliant and colorful lights and each table bears little presents and snacks for people to find. Sets of freshly-baked gingerbread people and gingerbread house-pieces can be found alongside plenty of ingredients for constructing and decorating. Music is playing to lighten the spirit, and the scents of mulled cider warm the room. Red-berried holly decorates the counter top and the mantle over the cheerfully crackling fire. Sprigs of probably (but not assuredly) non-compulsory mistletoe can be found hung up where one least expects to find them.

Outside, the thick clouds overhead mirror the new snow blanketing the landscape, and the lake stands frozen over all of its surface but for the most tropical of inlets. One familiar with the area might also think those snow-covered hills weren't there before - but then, neither were the fleet of sleds waiting at the top, or the area featuring suspiciously spaced waist-high drifts of snow that would (one has to admit) be perfect cover during a snowball fight.

Close to the bar, there are seats and blankets, and a long table bears a great variety of foods and drinks - both hot and cold. A great bonfire has been lit where friends old and new can gather to chase away the chill of the longest night while waiting to see the new sun rise.

Further out, great blocks of ice have been set up and tools have been set out for anyone wishing to try their hand at creating ice sculptures.

Nearer the edge of the lake, there is another new addition, as well. A towering structure in the shape of a goat, made of intricately twisted straw. Very strange, indeed. At the edge of the frozen lake itself, a couple of waitrats are manning (ratting?) a stand with a selection of ice skates for those wanting to venture out onto the lake surface.


[OOC: Welcome to the Milliways All-Skate: Midwinter Edition!
All welcome - yes, that means all. Whether they're retired, deleted, AU, original or already being played by someone else, bring 'em in!

Usual all-skate rules apply:
1. Everyone's stressed out of their mind right now, so have fun!
2. Communication is key.
3. Gratuitous behaviour (either of a violent or sexual nature) will not be tolerated in the bar proper. Take that to an OOM, and then Content Warning the hell out of it before you link it.
4. What happens in the All-Skate, stays in the All-Skates! Unless, that is, it happens between approved game characters and all muns agree.
5. Please don't be a dick.
6. Feel free to ignore the theme, if you'd rather -- or even expand it!]

Comments

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine is around, soaking in the heat of the bonfire and making sure the food and drinks table stays well-stocked, even if the waitrats continually try and shoo her away. They have everything under control.

She doesn't know if she's entirely up to trying out ice skating just yet. Maybe if she had someone to hang onto show her how.

[takethatnature]

The harsh environment of the Constant has taught Wilson to never miss an opportunity to stuff his face. Currently he's holding two snowflake-shaped sugar cookies and has a third one shoved in his mouth.

[alphaand]

A child of around 10 or so is at the laid out ice skates, looking down the rank until she finds some arund her size. Instead of putting them on, however, she picks one up and holds it close to her face as she peers at the blade and tests it with her finger.

Better tell her what they're for before she just goes out on thhe ice without adult supervision.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede hasn't been ice-skating in quite a while; several decades, at least. But he ties the skates on with only mildly out-of-practice hands, and if he wobbles on the blades it's brief.

He isn't overly showy about enjoying the gliding motions that carry him across the frozen lake, but a serene little smile gathered on his features until he comes in to warm himself more than the bonfire outside will allow. He may decide to build a gingerbread house, too. It's been a while since he celebrated more than just the solstice.

[little_pieces_of_time]

It hasn't been as long for Max since she last skated, but it has been a while, and occasional trips to the ice rink do not an expert make. She wobbles plenty, but is finding her feet relatively well as she goes.

For safety, she has left her beloved camera in the care of the waitrats on the lake shore.

As she curves around a turn, she gives a smile - hesitant but friendly - to the (entirely too pretty) person also out on the ice.

[alphaand]

Omega had found a pair of skates that fit her, tied them onto her feet, and now there is a pre-pubescent little girl, with absolutely no experience and even less fear, venturing carefully out onto the ice, legs too wide and arms even wider to steady herself.

Of course she falls over almost immediately, but gets right back up when she does.

[onceaviking]

Vampires do not care about the passing seasons or carefully wrapped presents.

They do care about long nights though.

There's a vampire in the growing shadows. Pale and cold as the snow and vaguely amused by the julebuk.

[sunbaked_baker]

There is, of course, a daylight-aligned baker mostly staying within the radius of the bonfire's warmth, chatting with folks and laughing, daylight sounds in the long midwinter night.

She spots the vampire, though, eventually. And sometime later, having fetched a hot cider for herself and a bottle of... well, probably for the best she doesn't think too closely about it... she wanders his direction.

"Scoping out the selection of snacks?" she remarks, dry.

[crowschild]

On the julebuk is a Ceilidh who has scrambled onto its back and is yelling at it to charge into some imaginary battle against the legion of evil evil bushes. Its name, according to her, is Princess Might Horns of Devastation.

On the ground is a mildly annoyed and amused Rory, watching with his arms crossed, but utterly unconcerned about her safety.

[alphaand]

Omega isn't a huge fan of the cold, so when it starts to get dark and the cold draws in, she also draws close to the fire, hunkering down quite close and experimenting with the marshmallow-on-a-stick technique she learned in summer.

When she becomes aware of someone in the shadows, she looks up and regards the figure directly, brown eyes staring unflinchingly in the firelight.

[alongfallfromgrace]

Wei Wuxian has never seen a frozen lake. He's seen the frozen edges of rivers, an ice lining trees (and battlements) after a winter storm (he's still doing his best to forget the week of winter he spent in the Unclean Realm, it was just more confirmation that the Nie were nuts.

(You know, if the saber-slinging rage fighting wasn't a clue)

But a whole lake? No. The lakes don't freeze around Lotus Pier, where winters had more mild temperatures (though some wicked storms to make up for it).

So Wei Wuxian was drawn to the lake, and is now being harassed into putting on ice skates by a team of rats. The rats are definitely doing this to expand his experiences, and not to enact revenge for him making shockingly spicy congee the other day and making the very air in the kitchen pepper-tastic. Yup.

[little_pieces_of_time]

"Wowsers..." A small photog is also taking in the scope of the frozen-over lake, amazed.

She spots Wei Wuxian getting fitted for ice skates, and comes over, smiling.

"Hey there!" She gives a little wave. "We've got a real winter wonderland, it looks like. I've never seen an entire lake freeze over before. Especially not enough for skating on!"

[canttrickmeanymore]

Peter will be bouncing around everywhere. He will go sledding and play with fire and make gingerbread and whatever else is going on. He's probably eaten too many cookies, but he doesn't care.

He also has little gift bags - each one has an ornament (for your tree or your review mirror or whatever) made from various odds and ends left over from electronics he's built or repaired. They've been painted and he'll customize a nameplate if you want.

There is one gift bag different from the others and that one's for Bucky. It's pink and sparkly.

[electro_kinetic]

Currently Noriko, who is inside like the sane people involved in all this special brand of nonsense, is decorating a gingerbread cookie. It may or may not be a ninjabread cookie as well, and she's not even going to go into the long discourse of 'this isn't what actual ninjas wore, we don't know what it was, but it wasn't this'.

She's just gonna ice the cookies. And then eat the cookies. Solid plan.

...Except that the bar has presented her with a mobius strip cookie now and she's pretty equally fascinated and confused.

[awkwardbot]

Normally I don't like to be outdoors on a planet because of things like weather and precipitation, and today there was a lot of weather and precipitation on the grounds of Milliways. But there were also a lot of activities going on where humans could potentially hurt themselves, and nobody else was standing by to assist in the event of an emergency (Security only worked inside), so I was out there with a backpack containing a medical kit just in case.

I also had on appropriate winter gear because even though I can withstand temperature extremes better than humans do, it was cold enough for my organic parts to get uncomfortable (stupid organic parts). And the instinct to wear unobtrusive clothing so I don't stand out never really goes away, even if I'm in a place where nobody minds that I'm a construct.

My drones were deployed in stationary positions and patrol routes around the lake, sledding hills, and snowball area. I was over by the lake since my risk assessment module had pegged it as the site where an incident was most likely to occur.

[element_wizard]

Alec has heard of being effected by weather and occasionally actually bothers with it. Today, he's not, wearing something that would be more appropriate for indoors. Feeling it's too much trouble to do so. He's even got the sleeves on his light button up shirt rolled up. He noticed the individual standing by the pond staring dead eyed at it.

"Thinking about going ice skating?" he asked, hands behind his back. He figures the guy hasn't gone before and is doing the whole 'should I? shouldn't I?' thing.

[distantdreaming]

There is snow.

Celebrian steps gingerly onto the white snow. Her feet are covered by dainty shoes, finely crafted from thin leather.
They look elegant and cold but she does not seem to mind.

Her dress is loose and long, made up in a shimmery grey fabric, and she wears no cloak.

She should have thought to bring a shawl she thinks and then she laughs softly. How would one go about remembering things to bring in a dream not yet dreamt.

She walks toward the sound of voices, leaving hardly a print behind as she walks upon the surface of the snow.

[iteration_lost]

There is the distant sound of engines, growing nearer, and from the sky comes a streamlined ship in shades of blue and grey metal, landing with surprising gentleness in... a deep drift of snow.

A humanoid figure enclosed in a suit of dusty whites, greys and metallic purple exits the ship and - though their face is hidden behind the reflective visor of their helmet - visibly decides that digging out their ship is a problem for later. They, too, approach the festivities, curious.

They notice the taller lifeform also moving towards the gathering around the time a soft, neutral voice from the exosuit warns of the drain on their thermal protections.

"Hello," they greet her, with a slight wave to help indicate the word is a greeting, though they hesitate as to how to ask if those dainty clothes offer adequate protection from the cold. Perhaps this lifeform is native to icy climates? They would offer her an extra battery for thermal protection if they thought it would be any help. "Are you cold? It is likely to be warmer near the fire."

All said with accompanying mime - shivering, rubbing hands together, and a gesture towards the bonfire.

[bialy_wilk]

Geralt, his swords strapped to his back, is looking up at the straw goat with an expression of extreme dubiousness.

"Hm," he says, and turns to look for the beer.

[crowschild]

"Can I see your swords?" Ceilidh sort of pops up out of nowhere. It's the nowhere that small children can do of the 'nobody expects a small child to just randomly show up'. Which means more that she skipped over in her bright pink puffy jacket, rainbow colored hat with a glitter pompom on it, purple sparkly mittens and pink galoshes. She skipped from Rory who is giving Geralt a politely curious, if examining look.

[photons_b_free]

Apparently Emergency Medical Holograms can ice skate. Or at least this one can. And as the Doctor skates, he hums the melody of an aria by Puccini. The cold does not and cannot bother him. He is having a good time.

[alphaand]

Eventually, after much practice, and with an uncannily steep learning curve, a little girl skates up beside him, head tilted to listen to the music.

"That's a pretty tune," she says.

[undignified]

An ex-pilot who looks at least twenty years older than his icons finds his way into the bar. He smiles when he realises where he is and uses his boot to hold open the door for a second while he grabs some Life Day gifts from his desk. (He'll have to ask Myri to cover for him and buy his gift for Wedge yet again, whoops.)

He leaves a few individually-wrapped slices of ryshcate on the gift table before sitting at Bar and resting a bottle of Corellian whiskey on her. It disappears in an instant, replaced by a half-measure of the same whiskey in a glass while a startled Wes Janson looks around.

Looks like he finally paid off his tab.

[alphaand]

It's the wrapping on the cake that catches Omega's attention as she's browsing the gifts. She's used to everything around here being interesting and alien, but even if she's never celebrated Life Day before, there's something familiar about this, something not quite like is comes from long way in the future from a galaxy far far away.

She unwraps it carefully, takes a bite out of the cake within, and holding the rest in her hands, she looks around to see if she can find the person who left it.

[miss_american_pie]

Cold and snow she knows, is as familiar to her as her suit, as her baton, as the words in her mouth and the breath in her lungs.

What she's not used to is the concept of a buffet, and so Yelena Alexeyevna, wearing a slightly garish mustard-yellow winter coat trimmed luxuriously with fake fur, is loading a plate with as many items as she can fit on it and trying each and every one.

From the pleased sounds she's making, most seem to be a hit.

[sunbaked_baker]

There's a red-haired woman in a green sweater and yellow jeans - bright against the grey and white of winter - bringing another tray of baked goods to make sure the food tables don't run low. She smiles, seeing the blonde woman's enthusiasm.

"Try the Chocoholia," she suggests, grinning. "Made them myself."

The plate she nudges onto the table is piled with bite-sized chocolate treats, each swirled with smooth white, milk, and dark chocolate and studded with crunchy cocoa nibs, and hiding a center of rich chocolate liqueur.

[famous_cousin]

It's not that the cold bothers him any (he grew up in the Mid-West and has spent quite a bit of time up in the arctic circle, plus the whole superhuman thing), but Clark can be found hanging out around the bonfire anyways.

The warmth is nice and bonfires are sort of a thing back home; small town traditions being what they are and all.

He looks right at home in a sherpa-lined denim jacket on over a red flannel shirt, with a cup of steaming cocoa in one hand and an already toasted s'more in the other.

He's watching the horizon for the new sun rise, but also open to chatting with anyone around.

[photons_b_free]

"Hm. Glasses. I don't believe I've ever seen glasses before." A historical curiosity that tend to go away along with achieving FTL travel.

[crowschild]

No one has set the buck on fire... yet.

That is about to change as Rory tosses a firebomb that his sister made between his hands. Probably not the safest thing in the world... but Rory isn't worried about it.

"Count of three," Rory says to Ceilidh who bounces up and down excitedly.

Arson is a family activity.

"THREE!!!!!" Ceilidh bellows. Expecting this, Rory lobs the firebomb at the buck. It hits neatly in the neck, burying itself before bursting into flame. More of it quickly follows.

Where upon Ceilidh starts laughing and clapping and dancing as it burns occasionally yelling "BURN! BURN!!!"

[forged_daughter]

Rory is not the only one who's annoyed when they make their way into Milliways.

You would THINK that being related to the gods of Ancient Greece would get you out of being drafted to serve as the angel in a Christmas Nativity thing, wouldn't you? But it is a THING that Diana's family has helped with every year for FOREVER and they really needed someone and Thalia is powerless against Diana's sad puppy eyes.

Hence, a scion with the world's most fake looking halo and wings, and a one-size-fits-nobody robe. "Rory, Ceilidh, good to see you two! The day is finally looking up!"

"Lovely fire you've got going," she remarks. Are the flames leaning toward Thalia a little? Maybe!

[forged_daughter]

You would THINK that being related to the gods of Ancient Greece would get you out of being drafted to serve as the angel in a Christmas Nativity thing, wouldn't you? But it is a THING that Diana's family has helped with every year for FOREVER and they really needed someone and Thalia is powerless against Diana's sad puppy eyes.

The 'robe' is overlarge and one-size-fits-nobody, and the wings are the halo are both ridiculously tiny and fake looking.

"Thank Bar," Thalia says, aggrieved expression on her face. "If I'm going to get through this evening without setting someone on fire, I'm going to need a drink I can actually feel the effects of."

[works_in_space]

"Is it Halloween again so soon?" Jim knows what Christmas is, of course, even if he doesn't celebrate. But he notices Thalia's outfit before the decor in the Bar. Sometimes even he can't see the forest through the Christmas trees.

[lost_or_stolen_or_strayed]

Well, they might be a bit late. (In fairness, it's a busy time of year.)

But what would Christmas be without an angel?

So there's a tall person in sensible chef's blacks shouldering their way backwards through the door, carrying an enormous tureen of soup that looks both too large and too full to be moved as easily as it is, a black scarf shot through with gold holding back their great quantities of red hair.

They don't look much like a Christmas angel, it must be said; arguably, not much like any kind of angel at all. There certainly won't be much in the way of good will to all men, if those men keep getting in the way of their work. But on the other hand, they're harried and cooking-stained and happy... so perhaps that's close enough.

(The soup smells wonderful, though exactly what it is currently depends on what you'd most like it to be. Eventually, it'll probably settle on tomato.)

The sight of the bar makes them raise a tired smile. Perhaps it's just as well the soup won't run out any time soon.

[element_wizard]

"Need help with that?" Alec asked seeing the large pot and tired looking individual. Good smelling soup or not, that looks heavy. And sure, they probably can carry it with no problem, it's still polite to ask, isn't it?

[clan_of_two]

Mando and the Child spend a little time inside and out back behind the bar.

Inside the pair take up space at one of the decorating tables; Mando sitting in a chair and the Child on the tabletop. The Mandalorian is of course dressed in his ever present armor, but for once some part of him is bare.

His hands are visible, his gloves laying beside his elbow, removed for the task of holding up the pieces of the gingerbread house the Child is earnestly working on.

Patiently Mando holds the two roof panels together, waiting for the icing to set, while the Child forges on eagerly, slathering other parts of the house in royal icing and affixing candy pieces to the construction. Quite a bit of mess is being made, and while his gloves are safe, the rest of Mando's armor has taken some hits. There are smears of white icing on his vambraces and shoulder, and a distinctly three-fingered hand print on the side of his helmet.

The Child is a mess as well, but seems to be having a ball as he sticks gumdrops onto his creation and into his mouth.

-----

Outside the pair can be found by the bonfire. Mando sits on a log, his armor cleaned up by now, gloves back on. The Child is nestled at Mando's hip, wrapped up in a blanket, clutching a cup of hot cocoa in his small hands.

Together they sit side-by-side staring into the firelight.

[iteration_lost]

There is someone else in the bar with their face hidden behind their helmet, though this person in their flexible armor with their vaguely blaster-shaped multi-tool holstered along their thigh, is wandering the bar and asking questions of an increasingly impatient waitrat who knows just as well as the humanoid does that the squeaks won't translate.
They are very good at understanding mime, at least, but their curiosity is boundless. What is the purpose of the poisonous flora hung from the ceiling? Why does it have romantic connotations?

Eventually the rat has had enough, squeaks its apologies and scurries away, leaving the person to wander and wonder on their own.

Eventually...

"It is to be an edible model of a dwelling?" they ask the lifeforms at the table.

[man_without_fear]

Matt has claimed one of the comfy chairs by the fireplace. He has a cup of coffee and a plate of already iced gingerbread men one of the wait rats insisted on bringing over sits on the end table beside him.

He listens to the goings on in the bar, the music, the laughter, the crackling fire and festive atmosphere all around, while nursing his mug which may or may not (it definitely does) have a nip of scotch in it.

All in all Matt's in a good mood, and while he may not be actively participating in all of the goings on, he's enjoying taking it in.

[iteration_lost]

'Thermal protection... falling,' warns a soft, neutral voice from the exosuit of the person who just opened the back door to the chill of the night beyond. Whatever mild warning had been occurring cuts off as the figure steps inside and closes the door behind them, as whatever protections the suit offers stabilize.

They step across the room, the movement shaking loose from the crevices of their suit and the blaster-shaped multi-tool holstered at their thigh a fine planetary dust that smells scorched beyond all idea of a soil that might allow plant growth. They order a refreshing drink - no more specific than that, the words carefully enunciated - and after thanking the bar they step away, looking for a seat.

There is someone in one of the comfy chairs nearer the fireplace - no blame, comfortable chairs are such a rare luxury - but the nearby couch is free. Such comfort, to be able to sit and actually relax.

"Hello, mind if it sit here?" they ask the nearby lifeform, with accompanying gestures to the couch and a tone that suggests they half-expect their words not to be understood.