The Estate in Glacia, Tuesday Evening
Between the multiple days of Winsol being celebrated by the Blood of Kaeleer, and the fact that Christmas was pretty much upon them now, it had been a hectic week leading up to tonight. Warren hadn't really expected a Christmas celebration on top of all of the festivities of Winsol, no, but Karla had insisted, and so he was going to make certain that if they were doing Christmas in Glacia, they were going to at least do it right. He really didn't ask for much - he had a home that felt like home and people that he could call family, and he'd have been happy settling for Winsol as his stand-in winter holiday - but he suspected that Karla had grown pretty fond of Christmas over the years, too, which might have had some role in the tree he'd been allowed to spend the morning setting up in one of the living rooms with Julian and Morton's help.
... Which, to Morton and Julian, had seemed a bit redundant. After all, there was already a Winsol tree up in the other room. But Warren had insisted that if he was celebrating Christmas, he wanted to at least be able to decorate a tree with ornaments that seemed at least somewhat reminiscent of the holiday he remembered. The Winsol tree was lovely in its own way, but it was very... Well...
... Blood.
So he'd ransacked the storage room for some of the less gaudy gilt ornaments that had been left over when they'd re-claimed the estate, picking out ones shaped that seemed a little more wintry than others, like caribou and Arcerian cats and children playing in snow, along with an assortment of golden bells. Up until that morning, he'd been wondering just what use anyone could have for so many damn bells, anyhow. He did borrow a few spare garlands for the tree, though, and he'd asked Karla really nicely if she could maybe hook him up with some tiny witchlights for the whole arrangement. She'd done so, a little distracted, before wandering off to make some more agitated phone calls to Jono. The end result was a tree that looked a little more Christmas than Winsol, especially once Warren got a fire going in one of the fireplaces nearby.
He'd never really celebrated Christmas growing up, and now he was one of the only people around who even knew what it was. But he couldn't help but feel a bit of nostalgic pride as he looked at his tree and wrestled with some fancy paper and ribbon. As it would turn out, claws weren't meant for wrapping presents at all. Thanks for that, creepy space virus.
[OOC: Merry Winsmas! Open for phone calls, or anyone who might be in Glacia for the occasion!]
... Which, to Morton and Julian, had seemed a bit redundant. After all, there was already a Winsol tree up in the other room. But Warren had insisted that if he was celebrating Christmas, he wanted to at least be able to decorate a tree with ornaments that seemed at least somewhat reminiscent of the holiday he remembered. The Winsol tree was lovely in its own way, but it was very... Well...
... Blood.
So he'd ransacked the storage room for some of the less gaudy gilt ornaments that had been left over when they'd re-claimed the estate, picking out ones shaped that seemed a little more wintry than others, like caribou and Arcerian cats and children playing in snow, along with an assortment of golden bells. Up until that morning, he'd been wondering just what use anyone could have for so many damn bells, anyhow. He did borrow a few spare garlands for the tree, though, and he'd asked Karla really nicely if she could maybe hook him up with some tiny witchlights for the whole arrangement. She'd done so, a little distracted, before wandering off to make some more agitated phone calls to Jono. The end result was a tree that looked a little more Christmas than Winsol, especially once Warren got a fire going in one of the fireplaces nearby.
He'd never really celebrated Christmas growing up, and now he was one of the only people around who even knew what it was. But he couldn't help but feel a bit of nostalgic pride as he looked at his tree and wrestled with some fancy paper and ribbon. As it would turn out, claws weren't meant for wrapping presents at all. Thanks for that, creepy space virus.
[OOC: Merry Winsmas! Open for phone calls, or anyone who might be in Glacia for the occasion!]