Twenty-Fifth Drop: christmas
The Christmas season is upon us -- and Merry Christmas to you all, City. For those of you who do not have families to go to, or who prefer to avoid the heavy festivities and hustle and bustle, I will keep the Lighthouse's keeper's house open to anyone wishing to have a Christmas gathering. Whether or not I am there, the setting will be simple and the doors unlocked. You are welcome to come at any time. Whether you are Christian or not, this is a spiritual time, a passing of the height of winter and the impending dawn of a new year.
(OOC: hey guys, you will all find these some place or another, namely on your doorstep or whatever.)
Major Raikov, I thought this might appeal to you. Past our era, Spetsnaz troops began using a peculiar type of weapon that looks like this:
It is a ballistic knife, a projectile and melee weapon in one unit. Use it like a knife, or pull the pin and press the trigger and the blade launches a good 40 feet, from what I've been told. A versatile, multipurpose weapon. Just try not to cut your own hand off with it, and don't go around firing it at the nearest passersby. I expect it to be an emergency-use tool. But I thought it would appeal to you. In fact, I'm not sure I want to know what you would use it for.
Ah, Penny. You've come a ways, since we met here in the City. I hope the new year will be good for you, or as good as it can be, given the deities. I wish you the best, and I implore you to come to me, if you need anything that I can provide you. You are never a burden or a bother.
Here. I picked up something for you. The winter has been snowy, and as such I thought you might enjoy a certain piece of Russian clothing:
In Russian, it is called an ushanka (though I believe Americans call it this as well, as the word simply carries over). The ear flaps can be tied above the head when it isn't so cold, or laid flat, or even tied under the chin for a guard against wind. The back folds down when the flaps are down, to shield the neck. It is made from silver fox fur; consider it a monochrome gift, from your monochrome friend.
Inside the hat, when you receive it, you will find something of a more serious nature -- something I once received, perhaps when I was your age, perhaps a little later.
A Mk. 22 pistol with a silencer. I intended to get this for you from the moment the cannibalism curse ended. Penny, had I managed to break through that door, had it not been so close to midnight, you would have had no protection -- and no matter how cursed I am, I am far weaker than most of the threats I have seen here. I have no magic, I have no inhuman strength, and I have no particular means of surviving attack. You must be able to defend yourself against that at the very least...and this is why you need at weapon that you can handle.
But I understand your unwillingness to kill or even to fight...it reminds me very much of myself. I never used my M1911 -- my traditional handgun. Never. Not once. Joy often scolded me, but I insisted on the Mk. 22...because it is a nonlethal weapon.
The bullets look convincing from a distance. But if you were to fire this weapon, each bullet would deploy a small silver needle device that administers a tranquilizer to the target. The rounds you have with your weapon will knock someone of my size, or greater, out in a single stroke. The closer to the head or heart you strike, the faster the enemy falls. Be careful -- in a hostage situation, or other case where time is of the essence, a miss will cost you much. But if you can wait just moment, if you can fire and hide, or even just take cover, you can trust this weapon to protect you.
...Rip. Times have changed. I rarely find it within my power to hate...and thus I cannot say I hate you. I do not know if this happened in your world...but in mine, in the first World War, Christmas of 1914 saw a ceasing of hostilities between the English and the Germans. Soldiers rose out of their trenches and shared their resources -- food, drink, company, whatever they could muster up. The sound of mortars firing faded into silence. All was still. They shared their Christmas like men, not like soldiers.
I have nothing to share with you that you would appreciate, since I have no amenities for humans, let alone vampires, and you do not seem like the kind to appreciate a trifling gift. The men in my world shared things like chocolate, whiskey, what little fruit they had preserved away...things humans find sweet or appealing. But you desire none of that.
I suppose that is what I could consider you. A friend of war. A compatriot who happens to be on the other side. Here is the only thing I have, that you might want.
I don't know where to find you. If you so wish it, it is on the Lighthouse doorstep.
Willow. We are both magical, in a sense. Your magic is that of the physical realm, the body, and the brain. Mine is of the spirit and the world we cannot see. Nonetheless, they are roses by different names. I have pledged my 'magic,' as it may be, to the defense of the innocents here in the City...but I still regret my failure to protect those who suffered due to Lieutenant van Winkle's actions.
Here is my gift to you, a statement of dedication. I will not fail again. I will do everything in my power and beyond to keep the citizens here from harm...and you as well, since you have suffered enough for that which I did not see.
The Lighthouse shines blue whenever I am working beneath the reflectors...and so here is a little spirit-lamp for you, a blue lantern, to keep your soul's path clear. It has no magic -- I cannot imbue items with such forces -- but consider it a symbol. And never be afraid to fetch me at any hour should you need me.
Lockon, since we are in an endeavor to protect to the City, each in his own way, I found this for you. My unit back home was the Cobra Unit, a squad dedicated to precision and efficiency in wartime. Perhaps someday, we will bring a semblance of justice to this place. Until then, good luck, and do not hesitate to find me should you need my assistance.
You seem...technically inclined. I wasn't so sure what to get someone from the future! But nonetheless, this seemed interesting and baffling -- a beam of coherent light! Surely you have seen one, but I was too enthralled by the color not to get it.
(OOC: hey guys, you will all find these some place or another, namely on your doorstep or whatever.)
Major Raikov, I thought this might appeal to you. Past our era, Spetsnaz troops began using a peculiar type of weapon that looks like this:
It is a ballistic knife, a projectile and melee weapon in one unit. Use it like a knife, or pull the pin and press the trigger and the blade launches a good 40 feet, from what I've been told. A versatile, multipurpose weapon. Just try not to cut your own hand off with it, and don't go around firing it at the nearest passersby. I expect it to be an emergency-use tool. But I thought it would appeal to you. In fact, I'm not sure I want to know what you would use it for.
Ah, Penny. You've come a ways, since we met here in the City. I hope the new year will be good for you, or as good as it can be, given the deities. I wish you the best, and I implore you to come to me, if you need anything that I can provide you. You are never a burden or a bother.
Here. I picked up something for you. The winter has been snowy, and as such I thought you might enjoy a certain piece of Russian clothing:
In Russian, it is called an ushanka (though I believe Americans call it this as well, as the word simply carries over). The ear flaps can be tied above the head when it isn't so cold, or laid flat, or even tied under the chin for a guard against wind. The back folds down when the flaps are down, to shield the neck. It is made from silver fox fur; consider it a monochrome gift, from your monochrome friend.
Inside the hat, when you receive it, you will find something of a more serious nature -- something I once received, perhaps when I was your age, perhaps a little later.
A Mk. 22 pistol with a silencer. I intended to get this for you from the moment the cannibalism curse ended. Penny, had I managed to break through that door, had it not been so close to midnight, you would have had no protection -- and no matter how cursed I am, I am far weaker than most of the threats I have seen here. I have no magic, I have no inhuman strength, and I have no particular means of surviving attack. You must be able to defend yourself against that at the very least...and this is why you need at weapon that you can handle.
But I understand your unwillingness to kill or even to fight...it reminds me very much of myself. I never used my M1911 -- my traditional handgun. Never. Not once. Joy often scolded me, but I insisted on the Mk. 22...because it is a nonlethal weapon.
The bullets look convincing from a distance. But if you were to fire this weapon, each bullet would deploy a small silver needle device that administers a tranquilizer to the target. The rounds you have with your weapon will knock someone of my size, or greater, out in a single stroke. The closer to the head or heart you strike, the faster the enemy falls. Be careful -- in a hostage situation, or other case where time is of the essence, a miss will cost you much. But if you can wait just moment, if you can fire and hide, or even just take cover, you can trust this weapon to protect you.
...Rip. Times have changed. I rarely find it within my power to hate...and thus I cannot say I hate you. I do not know if this happened in your world...but in mine, in the first World War, Christmas of 1914 saw a ceasing of hostilities between the English and the Germans. Soldiers rose out of their trenches and shared their resources -- food, drink, company, whatever they could muster up. The sound of mortars firing faded into silence. All was still. They shared their Christmas like men, not like soldiers.
I have nothing to share with you that you would appreciate, since I have no amenities for humans, let alone vampires, and you do not seem like the kind to appreciate a trifling gift. The men in my world shared things like chocolate, whiskey, what little fruit they had preserved away...things humans find sweet or appealing. But you desire none of that.
I suppose that is what I could consider you. A friend of war. A compatriot who happens to be on the other side. Here is the only thing I have, that you might want.
I don't know where to find you. If you so wish it, it is on the Lighthouse doorstep.
Willow. We are both magical, in a sense. Your magic is that of the physical realm, the body, and the brain. Mine is of the spirit and the world we cannot see. Nonetheless, they are roses by different names. I have pledged my 'magic,' as it may be, to the defense of the innocents here in the City...but I still regret my failure to protect those who suffered due to Lieutenant van Winkle's actions.
Here is my gift to you, a statement of dedication. I will not fail again. I will do everything in my power and beyond to keep the citizens here from harm...and you as well, since you have suffered enough for that which I did not see.
The Lighthouse shines blue whenever I am working beneath the reflectors...and so here is a little spirit-lamp for you, a blue lantern, to keep your soul's path clear. It has no magic -- I cannot imbue items with such forces -- but consider it a symbol. And never be afraid to fetch me at any hour should you need me.
Lockon, since we are in an endeavor to protect to the City, each in his own way, I found this for you. My unit back home was the Cobra Unit, a squad dedicated to precision and efficiency in wartime. Perhaps someday, we will bring a semblance of justice to this place. Until then, good luck, and do not hesitate to find me should you need my assistance.
You seem...technically inclined. I wasn't so sure what to get someone from the future! But nonetheless, this seemed interesting and baffling -- a beam of coherent light! Surely you have seen one, but I was too enthralled by the color not to get it.