(Untitled)

[iliketodruitt]

John wasn't sure what the island normally looked like, having arrived after it changed, but he was conflicted about its current appearance. The Victorian period held one of the happier times of his life, but also one of the darkest. He was thankful that there was no Whitechapel here, already it was hard enough to be here. It seemed as if half

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[yeah_wow_lovely]

"Sirius says he comes round sometimes," says Cassie, half hidden in the giant bundle of her coat, though she pulls her chin free to call to him from the embankment. From here she can watch the Thames roll by. It's frightfully dirty, but every so often the currents bring by something interesting.

"I've never seen him."

[iliketodruitt]

She looks so much like some of them, blonde and a little lost. Even if the clothes aren't quite exactly the same, and this isn't Whitechapel, it's still similar enough to bring up the recollections of those kills. Even while he's free of those particular desires, he remembers very clearly what it's like to have them. He's disgusted by what he had done even as he remembers how much part of him enjoyed doing it at the time.

"I suppose there is little to do but wait and see then," he called back, moving a bit closer to her so that they don't have to shout. "I wonder what sort of gifts he would bring to a place like this."

[yeah_wow_lovely]

"Strange things," says Cassie, head tilting in thought before she pulls something from the depths of her coat. Lifting her hand, she shows him the little clockwork bird, one of many she'd awoken to in place of her paper bird chains. "But wonderful."

He's real, she knows he is. He's not like the people in the shops, his conversation is proof of that, and Cassie smiles. "What would you ask him for?"

[iliketodruitt]

"How incredible," he said, staring at the tiny mechanical marvel. It was the sort of thing that he would have especially enjoyed back at Oxford. It seemed especially delicate, but she had been carrying it around in her jacket without harm.

"And I'm not sure. Likely things that I know others would enjoy. What would you ask?"

[jack_artful]

"You used to seein' Saints wonderin' about at their leisure, gov?" Dodger asked, broadly amused, tilting his head to knock his top hat back into place. "Because he ain't a fixture of any London I'm right a-cquainted with."

[iliketodruitt]

"I have met one or two in my time," John said, smiling at the young man. While not exactly what he had meant, it was true enough. Of course, John had lived a rather long and extraordinary life.

"But you're correct. There were no Saints in London during this time that I can recall. I was referring to Santa Claus. I have heard that he visits this place this time of year."

[jack_artful]

"You been to the real thing?" Dodger asked, sharply curious all of a sudden. He hadn't yet met anyone else from his own century. "The real City with its stench 'n yellow fog?" They were missing from this Island version, along with the slums and the vermin and the constant street brawls that Dodger had been so familiar with.

[iliketodruitt]

"My boy I was born there," John said with a smile. "Near this time, actually, the mid 1800s. Though this is clearly a romanticized version of it. While it does not smell pleasant by any means, it does not have the... authentic odor that London did around this time."

[madeofstories]

She's walking Lady Di when she passes him, marveling for what seems like the hundredth time in the past few days, at what the island's become. Grace adores it already. She loves her tiny apartment, her dress, the weather, the streets... it feels as if they've all been transported to their own Dickens story and she's not sure she ever wants it to end.

"Oh, I hope so," Grace says to the man, "especially now that we all have proper chimneys and fireplaces."

[iliketodruitt]

The girl was one of the few that seemed to be entirely comfortable in the clothing of the time. He had seen more than one person walking along either taking severe liberties with the clothing to make it seem more modern.

"I should look to making some cookies to leave out for him then," he said with a smile. "Assuming I do not eat them all myself first."

[madeofstories]

"That's why you always make a bit extra," Grace replies, sure she's solved his problem of eating all of Santa's cookies himself, "or you just try to restrict yourself to the batter instead."

She'd grown up sneaking a taste of her mother's various cake and cookie batters whenever she baked; sometimes it made it easier to wait until the actually baking was through,

[iliketodruitt]

"I would be especially suspect of eating any batter that contained raw eggs in Victorian London if I were you," he said with a bit of a chuckle.

"But perhaps making extra is not such a bad idea. I would hate to find myself on the naughty list, after all."

Not that there was any doubt that he would be there, but she didn't need to know that.

[curiously_cora]

"You mean Santa, right? He normally shows up, he's pretty cool." Coraline said, staring up at the man. There were very few people who towered over Coraline but whoever this was, was a giant. "It's kind of hard to grow out of believing in fairy tales though when everyone here is a fairy tale or Santa or something."

[iliketodruitt]

It was if they were all haunting them, these blonde girls looking so much like the ones he killed when London originally looked similar to this. He would have shut himself away and run from the guilt except he believed he deserved every bit of it.

"Why would you ever wish to do such a thing?" he asked the tall girl looking up at him. "Who says you should grow out of fairy tales?"

[curiously_cora]

"Everyone here. My parents used to. When you grow up you're supposed to stop believing in happy ever afters and stories and fairytales and villainous villains and start to believe in reality." Coraline explained, brushing blue hair out of her face as she explained to the man.

[iliketodruitt]

"What a dreadfully unpleasant way to live," John said, shaking his head sadly. While John didn't necessarily believe in magic, he did believe in science beyond imagination. Faeries and monsters were all very real, he had seen the Abnormals they were based on.

"Who is to say that reality does not encompass wondrous things? It certainly has villainous villains."

[spirited_lissie]

"Possibly. I wouldn't put anything past the island at this rate." Felicity answered, school books in hand, her skirts in another (nearly a week and she'd yet to find a pair of trousers from the clothing box).

It felt strange that even after such a transformation, she'd been expected to go to school, a much larger and intimidating building than she was used to. It may've also been a good thing she had on so many layers-the extra warmth was appreciated.

[iliketodruitt]

"I have heard from some others that he does indeed come," John said, glancing around, as if he could catch a glimpse of the man sneaking along rooftops before the actual day had come.

"Though I myself have only been here a few days," he admitted. "This is the only version of the island that I have experienced. I understand that normally it is a far more tropical climate."

[spirited_lissie]

She nodded.

"It is. December's the only time of the year when the climate changes." She paused. "Well, that's not entirely true. I believe a friend of mine once said that sometime ago, the island changed from looking like a rain forrest to looking like India." Of course, Felicity had never been to either place before her arrival here, so she really had no choice but to take her word for it.

[iliketodruitt]

"I always felt that the Christmas season was best experienced cold."

It was maybe cliche, especially since half the world experienced the holiday during the summer, but it was not something he could help. Perhaps it was one of those things ingrained in you at childhood.

"And India is a beautiful country. If you have ever read any Kipling, you can imagine what it is like."