[Tonight was promising to be a quiet night in the dressing room. The Tykis may be lounging in the miscellaneous bars and pubs, and the Allens are probably curled up in piles of blankets. Who knows where the Crosses are, but that's nothing new. And Lavis? Well... they're probably head-first in a book, drooling and getting ink on themselves. Yes,
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[It's more like a memory, than a dream. One that's been tucked away for a long, long time.]
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...but it was Sleeper. Hobo wasn't leaving him alone in Road's world.] ...It smells nice.
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[Sleeper looks up at her first, grinnning, and then turns the smile toward Hobollen.] I think it's Christmas.
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But. But Sleeper seems to know her. And she doesn't seem like Road as far as he can tell.. so he turns his gaze back to Sleeper and smiles just slightly in return.] ...Christmas Eve? Or Christmas day?
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[Sleeper steps out of the doorway, wearing a pair of very warm-looking flannel pajamas. The little girl scurries toward him and wraps her arms around his middle. He doesn't hug back, but he doesn't look particularly disturbed by this.]
It's Christmas day. Smell the cookies?
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Is that how you tell? [Blinks. He can't really remember celebrating Christmas. But there are a lot of things he can't remember.]
...Are you going to go down?
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[Sleeper steps on ahead of Hobollen, the little girl still clinging to his middle with her cheek against his back. Look closely. It looks like there's blood dripping down from the back of her head.]
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Allen--
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[Hobollen's hand ghosts straight through her when it meets Sleeper's shoulder, and Sleeper turns around, giving the other a confused sort of look.]
Are you coming?
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...Still. She seems a lot more worried about losing Sleeper than she does intending to cause him harm.] O-oh... yes, of course.
[He spares the girl another glance though, uncertain of what to tell her, before taking one of Sleeper's hands and heading down the stairs.]
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Here! You get first choice.
[The girl peeks around Sleeper and looks up at Hobollen with an expectant look. Mama makes 'em best.]
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He pauses when Sleeper holds up the plate, of course, not... really used to being offered things 'first'. It seems odd. But he smiles slightly, uncertainly, and takes a cookie off the top of the pile.] Thank you. [He takes a bite, though the girl... the odd whispering, it makes him frown, even if the cookie is probably the best cookie he's ever had. ...Sleeper's sister..?]
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[The cookie may very well be the best-tasting cookie Hobollen's ever tasted - likely a reflection of the limited memories that Sleeper does have of being young and innocent. Sleeper nods and grins as Hobollen takes a bite of his cookie, and snatches one for himself.]
It's almost time for presents. [He moves to pour two more glasses of milk and slides one to Hobollen before snatching one more cookie.]
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Truth be told, he's never had a homemade cookie. His mother was a terrible cook, one of her few faults, and his father... mum didn't let him use the kitchen, he remembers, though he's not sure why. They ate out a lot.]
O-oh-- do you think your mum would mind if I stayed...? [He finishes off that cookie and grabs another, taking the glass of milk that was poured for him with a quick word of thanks.]
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... Mum? Of course she wouldn't! You probably have some presents under the tree, too!
[He grins again and swipes a third cookie before leading the way into a living room. It looks more like a study, than a living room, given how the hearth in the fireplace is wall-to-wall and has bookshelves carved into the brick. The tree in the corner is huge and decorated in white lights and tinsel and crystal ornaments. And there are presents everywhere. All shapes, sizes, and colors. There are even stockings, too, hanging over the fireplace. Five, actually. Four of them look like they might have had names on them, but the lettering as been smudged. The fifth has the name "Allen ( ... )
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Sipping tentatively at the milk for a moment, before he sets the glass down and follows Sleeper into the living room, nibbling on his second cookie along the way. The sheer amount of presents is a little bit amazing - no, the whole room is a little amazing - and when Sleeper reaches through the sleeping old man, it isn't quite as surprising as it had been the first time around with the little girl.
He takes the stocking offered to him a bit awkwardly, holding on with both hands as though uncertain of just what to do with it, and when he glances over at the little girl a frown tugs at his features. He pauses, shifting his weight, before stepping over to the hearth and tugging the small stocking free. He sets it down for the little girl, and then moves to plop down on the floor beside Sleeper's ottoman.] ...Shouldn't you have the one that says Allen?
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