brightly shone the moon that night ( open )

[onevice]

Who: Sam Winchester, Snow White, Ellie, Robyn Cousland, and YOU
Where: Various.
When: December 12th - December 26th
Rating: PG-R for language and likely violence, potential for character death.
Summary: See various character top levels below! Basically, Wonderland Christmas is as fun as always...
The Story: ( though the frost was cruel )

Comments

warden robyn cousland ; i'll be home for christmas if only in my dreams

[heroica]

december 13th - the ghost of christmas past

[ On the day that the shadows of her past begin to haunt her, they're especially kind. Surprising, but not upsetting, and the Warden, wherever she is, is in the middle of a scene from her childhood. It's Castle Cousland, her home at the fortress of Highever until... recently. The castle will seem medieval to anyone who doesn't known 'Ferelden' style, or Ferelden anything, and is bustling with life. People come and go, chatting animatedly, enjoying each other's company. There are tavern songs and mabari, others like the huge dog that follows Robyn around. Her own hound, Oren, is more confused by the scene and barks occasionally at the phantom figures as they hurry through.

The centerpiece is, of course, her family. Teyrn Bryce Cousland is at a table with his wife, Robyn's mother, her older brother, Fergus, and the girl herself. She's a child, likely younger than ten, and is chasing one of the pups around the table while Fergus chases her. Both of their parents are enjoying the scene, though they also speak occasionally with servants, guards, or others who stop in. A fire crackles merrily in the background and the children only stop roughhousing when food begins to be placed out across the table. It's an impressive spread and one not kept from the dogs; Robyn, in the scene, is sneaking bits to a drooling mabari at her feet while the others pretend not to notice.

The real Robyn seems to be completely captivated, watching the happy memory on loop in contended silence. ]


december 14th - the ghost of christmas present

[ The scene again involves a fire, but is much more recent. A campfire snaps and hisses, eating away at a stack of haphazard logs. Sitting around it are an absolutely ragtag group, including a Robyn Cousland who looks almost exactly as she does now. With her is another of Wonderland's residents, Alistair Theirin, who is having bits of the rabbit he'd been eating stolen from his hands by a hungry mabari, who the incensed Alistair refers to as 'Calen.'

With them are a number of others: a dark-haired woman who'd also been in the mansion who is regarding the scene with almost furtive amusement, a red-haired woman who is telling stories and gesturing emphatically, and an older woman dressed in robes, smiling knowingly at something. There is also a man with pointed ears (an elf) who is quietly encouraging the sneaky hound, a shorter man (a dwarf) who is laughing raucously and drinking as if his life depends on it, and a huge, surly-seeming man (a qunari) who seems to be in another place entirely.

There's also a massive, stone golemn who doesn't seem to be eating.

The party stays for a while, listening to a series of stories, most of which are wildly inappropriate, laughing and eating in their camp in a clearing. After some time, Robyn gets to her feet, making for her tent, but Alistair quickly rises and catches her and they turn, moving not too far away from the clearing, just out of earshot (and sight lines) of the others. The memory ripples and moves forward a bit, finding the pair standing and talking, perfectly at ease.

"I know it... might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to... care for you. A great deal. I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together. I don't know. Or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself."

Alistair speaks and she listens, shifting her weight the tiniest bit, eyes wide and almost unsure under the weight of what he's trying to say.

"Am I?" he asks hastily, also looking a little nervous. "Fooling myself? Or do you ever think you might ever... feel the same way about me?"

Robyn, in her memory, reddens a bit, though it isn't completely clear in the darkness. Slowly, she takes a breath, looking down to consider it thoroughly, before finally raising her gaze again and nodding faintly.

"I think I already do," she breathes, somehow just as anxious. Despite the heavy air of discomfort, he manages a grin.

"So I fooled you, did I? Good to know."

And he leans in and she does, too, and just as they close the distance, the memory begins again, set at the campsite. ]


december 15th - the ghost of christmas future

[ It's very dark and very cold. There is a fire, but it's only the light of a small torch. The woman holding it is Robyn, of course, but ten years older and very alone. The caves she moves through are the tunnels of the Deep Roads, inherently frightening and with very little in terms of company. Occasionally, there's the sound of water dripping, or a stone knocking against her boots, or a distant scamper.

She's wearing Grey Warden armor, but it's difficult to see, between the shadows and the blood and grime that's been spattered across it. This doesn't seem to bother her, though; Robyn soldiers on, occasionally firing her crossbow toward something unseen, which usually shrieks or cries out as a result. They aren't human sounds, but ones belonging to Deepstalkers and darkspawn, both of which are plentiful in the Deep Roads.

Her mission is unclear. The Grey Warden travels, moving carefully, stopping very little. When she does stop, she consults a notebook by the light of a torch, writing down some and reading over what's already there. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion and she looks much less well-fed, but it's to be expected. She's clearly doing something that can't be put on hold or done in any kinder way other than to trek into unforgiving expanses of the underground in order to achieve it. Still, her expression is resigned, at best, and doesn't seem to improve near the end of the 'future.'

The real Robyn regards all this with a startled sort of fear, almost like a lamentation. But... it doesn't surprise her, whatever the ghostly images mean. ]

14th

[outofthebreach]

[ He'd missed the scene of the previous day, but he's spoken to Robyn since then, heard about it briefly. Today he swings by to check on her, wanting to make sure the vivid memory of a past Christmas hasn't lowered her spirits any and finds a very different scene unfolding.

It's a camp at night, the surroundings a familiar landscape to anyone who's traipsed their way across Ferelden a few dozen times.

Brennan moves to Robyn's side, reaching out to brush a hand along her spine to let her know he's here with her as he takes in the scene, eyes flitting over the assembled faces - some of them familiar, others known only to him by the tales he's heard by now. ]

Well, this looks cozy.

[heroica]

[ She isn't startled by the touch, but looks hurriedly to see who's walked into another of her memories. Robyn isn't surprised to see that it's Brennan and relaxes, smiling fondly out at the small crowd. ]

As cozy as you can get during a Blight, I think. [ She leans in a little, as if the others in the scene might be able to hear them, as if they'd turn around and shush her. ] Let's see... you know Leliana, Alistair, and Morrigan. The mage is Wynne, from the Circle Tower. Torturing Alistair is Zevran, an assassin from Antiva that Loghain sent after us. I think he thought us all so charming that he just joined our band.

[ She smiles brightly, perfectly unwilling to accept that the assassin would turn on them, kill her in the middle of any given night. ]

The qunari is - well. He goes by 'Sten,' though I realize that isn't a name, but a title, and that they don't really... have names. And... the golem is Shale.

[ Robyn glances sideways at him, nudging him lightly in the side. ]

You've seen all this and more in the Inquisition, I imagine.

[outofthebreach]

The camping? Oh yes, plenty of it. And my companions were almost as varied and colorful as yours.

[ He chuckles fondly as he nudges her back, then moves to prowl around the scene in thought, studying different aspects of it as the group laughed and relaxed together around a fire. ]

Maker, Leliana looks so young. Morrigan does too, but she still has this knowing about her. Has she always had that? That air of... I don't know. Like she's forgotten more secrets than you'll ever manage to learn.

[heroica]

You've not told me much about them. [ She says, almost accusingly, half-smiling at him as the firelight flickers over their faces. Eventually, she turns back to the scene, nodding faintly as she listens to what he says. ]

She is young. [ Robyn says, finally. And Leliana isn't the only one, though it's all relative, since this is a recent memory for the Warden. ] ... And, Morrigan does have that sense about her, doesn't she? It isn't surprising, after-

[ Should she mention Flemeth? Her eyes flit to Brennan, but she changes the subject. ]

We don't have the Inquisition's numbers, [ She says finally, looking at the group with a quiet pride. ] but we make do with what we have.

14th I'm sorry

[fatherlesskind]

[It's not the first time he's seen ghosts of old memories playing themselves out over and over again but the images that have been showing up around the mansion lately are generally a lot more pleasant than those echos left behind in the Deep Roads. When he first stumbles on a more familiar scene he doesn't even notice the person responsible, caught up in the images playing out something not too far off nights Alistair remembers himself. He finds himself staying, watching the group with a wistful smile. If he doesn't look too closely at the other Warden sitting with them he can almost believe it's a memory or dream of his own.

The illusion lasts as long as it takes for Warden Cousland to leave the little gathering. When the illusion-Alistair follows her, the two of them finding some measure of privacy he's abruptly reminded that this isn't his happy moment. His heart sinks even as he leans closer, watching intently. The way the not-Alistair - other-Alistair? - acts around her is nothing like the way he and the Cousland he knows are. He doesn't think he's ever looked at or spoken to someone like that but it looks and sounds just like him - awkward and fumbling and the way they're talking it's like-

He makes a strangled little sound, recoiling as the memory ends and begins its loop again. So that was why she-

Maker.

Spinning around to leave, wanting to just get out of there and find some way to distract himself, he finally spots the other Warden. Eyes narrowing in anger Alistair gestures accusingly at the scene playing out behind him once more.]

You didn't say anything about that!

[He's not being fair and if it didn't affect him personally he might be able to understand why she hadn't told him anything beyond that they knew each other. As it does he's too caught up in his own feelings to consider anyone else's, temper flaring up to hide his discomfort.]

NO YOU ARE NOT

[heroica]

[ For herself, she doesn't notice the real Alistair has walked in on the scene, not until he speaks up. She's seen it so many times that she's continued throughout her day in a little, sheepish flurry, trying to steer clear of other people through the embarrassing bits, at least, until the day ends and something else (another memory?) takes its place.

The worst happens, of course, as it always does. She and Alistair haven't spoken since their meeting in Wonderland, the one that had ended rather badly and sent them on their separate ways in two indignant huffs. But, when he speaks up sharply, she gasps, startled out of her reverie by the fact that the voice doesn't belong there, isn't a part of the scene that she's heard dozens of times now.

Maker, of course he would just happen into her memory, one so personal and private, even with him. ... Especially from him, almost; if he doesn't remember, then he, like everyone else, has no right to be looking in on such an intimate moment. When he makes himself known, she jumps to her feet, red in the face with mingled self-consciousness and a little anger, herself. ]

Of course I didn't tell you! [ She retorts hotly, hands balled into little fists at her sides. ] Why would I? You don't know me - [ She almost adds "and I don't know you," but that isn't as true, even if he isn't the same Alistair. ] Would you have preferred I tell you that- that something like this happened when you'd just arrived? We had enough of a row with my trying to answer your questions without any of that!

Nope, not at all!

[fatherlesskind]

Yes! I-

[No, he didn't want her to have told him when he'd just met her. He wouldn't have taken it well - isn't taking it well now and he's had time to get used to the idea of her. If it had come up when they first spoke it would have been even worse. In truth he'd prefer not to know this at all, but now that he does it feels like being lied to having had it kept from him.]

You still should have said something! [Something. A warning. Or just a hint that they were more than just reluctant allies as far as she was concerned.]

How hard is it to go 'oh, by the way I wish you were someone else because we were-'? [He cuts himself off, waving at the scene again to illustrate what he can't say.

Now he knows why that first meeting had gone so badly. (Completely ignoring the fact that it had been his own attitude causing the problems rather than anything else.) She'd been expecting the person she knew and instead got him.... He hadn't really thought about there being another him to go with a place where she was the Warden. And now that he's been confronted with exactly that he doesn't know how to cope with it. An entire life that isn't his own but which is the same in so many ways... How does someone deal with that kind of thing?]

[heroica]

Is that what you'd have had me say? Because I know for a fact you would have only shouted at me more if I said anything like that.

[ Emotion wells up in her throat and she turns her back on the memory, once a source of quiet happiness, until... this. ]

I don't wish you were someone else, I would never - [ Swallowing, she shakes her head hard. ] ... But you don't have to treat me like your enemy, either. You may not know me, but I've been trying to help explain, and you can't know how hard this has been with you having a go at me every time we meet.

[ There aren't any answers, let alone easy ones. Robyn just ends up shaking her head again, lost for words or for any way to smooth things between them. So far, it's been little more than a disaster, and it makes her feel as if her insides have crumbled away. The foundation of her new life after Highever, with the Wardens, had begun with Duncan and Alistair, and now she'd really lost them both. ]

snow white ; on a cold winter's night that was so deep

[onevice]

december 20th - the little match girl

[ Snow is falling, snow on snow.

By the 20th, the hypothermia has set in. She has no idea what's happening to her, only that if something doesn't change, she'll die. Growing up in the woods in the Homelands and weathering all of American's pre-heating units centuries, Snow White knows all of this for a fact. The woman has been getting chillier and chillier as the day have passed, but she brushed it off as nothing, at first, because there was no good reason for her to think that something strange was happening.

Except that it's Wonderland, and thus, something strange was always happening. Each day brought new levels of cold down deep into her skin and bones than she could have imagined. She began shivering violently, going to sleep with dozens of blankets, unable to change the fact that she felt as if she were trying to sleep outside, or in a tub of freezing water. Her already-pale skin became shocking white, tinted blue, death nearing as sure as anything.

That's when she sees them. Her family. At the door, her children - all seven of them, even Ghost, who she couldn't see. "Come back with us, Mommy!" they call, beckoning her. Out of breath and overcome with emotional, she struggles to her feet, breath puffs of visible air and body shaking with the effects of the curse, but unwilling to let her children be ignored, not when they were finally here. Not when she could be with them again, hold them and keep them safe -

"Come on, Snow," comes Bigby's easy voice from down the hall. He jerks his head toward the stairs: "Let's get out of here for good." She nods slowly, earnestly, making her very slow way after them. The children are laughing, thrilled to have her complying, and her husband chuckles warmly before turning to head outside. ]

Wait - [ But her voice is weak, barely a whisper. If they go outside, won't she die from exposure? ... There's a light, though, spilling from the doors once she reaches the entrance hall. It's so bright and appealing that it must be warm, it can't mean anything bad, or dangerous. Smiling in relief, she presses against it, barely able to move, now, but perfectly undisturbed by it.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful. Snow White passes through the front doors and out into the front of the mansion with a smile. ]

[oversight]

[ During this time of year, Blake's much more aware of his surroundings and their affect on people. Having been lucky enough to attend four separate Christmases in Wonderland, the former cop knows that it's not just the time of year that leads people astray.

It's only in passing that he recognizes that something's wrong with Snow. He waves from a distance, having wrangled the dogs for a walk, but he doesn't quite get the response he's looking for, so he endeavors to investigate further. ]

Snow? Snow, it's— it's me, Blake.

[ Wrestling with the two dogs, he inches closer and closer until the pallor of his skin sends ice through his veins. She's clearly not in a good place. Dropping the leashes, he murmurs for the dogs to go home and then trudges through the snow in the direction of the freezing woman. ]

Hey hey, you okay there?

[onevice]

[ She does stop at the voice, managing to tear her eyes away from her family, beckoning in the distance. Snow shivers, staring back at Blake, only registering him after about half a minute passes. ]

Blake? [ She repeats. Her mind gradually returns to her, though the color is more or less gone from her skin. ] ... What are you doing here?

[ Not "why am I outside in the snow," which is the better question, given how awful she looks. ]

I'm... fine. I think.

[oversight]

[ She certainly doesn't seem fine, but John's trying not to be too quick to judge. Some people do change a bit when the seasons turn, after all, but by the looks of things, he's not convinced Wonderland doesn't have a hand in this.

He reaches out and squeezes her bicep gently, trying to apply some small amount of reality to the conversation — something to ground them both. ]

You sure? Was just gonna ask what you're doin' out here...

[onevice]

[ It helps. She seems to regain some of herself, blinking. ]

I... I don't know. [ Snow swallows, glancing over toward where the phantoms of her family had been. ] I saw... something that isn't real.

[ At least she can be practical about it. She shivers violently, wrapping her arms around herself. ]

We should go back inside. [ Snow mutters, as if that much wasn't obvious. ]

ellie ; joyful, all ye nations, rise

[backpacking]

december 17 - hershel and the hannukah goblins

[ There is a racket coming from the kitchen. Accompanying the clamor is the yells and swearing of a little girl, Ellie, who is trying to corner a medium-sized and snickering goblin. The brunette seems to be attempting to retrieve the little pocket knife that the goblins is tossing around; on the counter is an apple, half-peeled, likely left behind and entirely forgotten in the struggle. ]

Give it back, you asshat! [ She lunges, but quick as she is, the goblin is stronger. He lumbers out of the way, still heckling her, holding the small weapon way above her head. When she tries scrambling onto the counter to leap at it, the creature moves just out of reach and she swears again, kicking hard down onto the surface of the counter.

She'd consider going to one of the closets to get a gun and just kill the bastard, but she's afraid that, if she takes her eyes off of it, the goblin will vanish with her knife in its grasp. Instead, she continues to attempt its retrieval, grumbling loudly and glaring daggers at the ever-annoying Christmas gift from Wonderland. ]


december 21 - the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe

[ Narnia is awesome. Ellie had found it not too long ago, had slipped through the second strange closet to appear in Wonderland after rummaging through its contents. When she'd fallen out into the snowy woods, she'd been baffled, having not yet read C.S. Lewis' famous series yet before.

Wisely, she thinks, she hadn't fallen for the obvious trap of whatever the food was supposed to be, sitting out and available for anyone to nip at it. Probably, it was poison, or maybe something not as lethal, but no less dangerous. She'd eyed it with healthy suspicion, squinting and wrinkling her nose, but in the end, she'd upended the table and its bowl, sending the Turkish Delight into the snow face-down. ]

Suck it. [ Ellie said, nodding firmly. After that, she'd moved through the area, exploring and coming across nothing besides the 'food' she'd ruined and the single lamppost. She spent some time glancing up at it, wondering if she should try and climb it, or something, but settled on doing nothing. It really just seemed like a light, weird as it was to be the only other thing around besides the trees.

Footsteps. She freezes, moving quickly to crouch behind a series of white-capped bushes. Someone nearby is crunching their way through the snow and Ellie has no intention of them taking her by surprise. As such, and without the usual bottles and bricks, she gathers up a snowball and packs it tight in her hands.

Ready, aim - and she lobs it at the person as they break through into the clearing. ]

21!

[luckynumberthree]

[ Simon may have been beside himself with the discovery of where the closets - wardrobes - now led. And he may have been popping in and out with increasing regularity, exploring the landscape as he can. And very studiously avoiding the Turkish Delight, thanks, because he has no desire to summon the person who might have left it. Granted, he's not yet found a faun either, so he's not sure that actually applies, but he's not taking his chances.

Still, it definitely seems like Narnia, even if its a fairly empty one. Or so he thinks until he pushes his way through the underbrush and gets a snowball to the face, which leaves him sputtering in protest. ]

OI!

[backpacking]

Whoa - Simon?

[ She pops up from behind the bush, waving meekly and smiling in a sheepish, apologetic sort of way. ]

Heh... whoops. [ Ellie drops the other snowball, maneuvering her way out from behind the brush. ] Thought you might be someone actually dangerous.

[luckynumberthree]

What does that mean? [ He pauses from wiphing snow out of his face to look mildly offended. ] Actually dangerous? I'm completely dangerous.

Grr.

[ He even makes the claws and grimace to go with it. ]

[backpacking]

Uh, you know what I mean. Monsters. Wonderland-brand shitty... monsters.

[ She sticks out her tongue, not even bothering to look scared. ]

You're way too fuzzy to be scary.

17

[krmvgivv]

[Dipper hears swearing and crashing and of course, has to follow the noise. When he sees Ellie, well, he's not exactly surprised. But she's never gonna get her knife back at this rate. Dipper hasn't had much trouble with the Goblins, but that's mostly because he never tried brute force. He just doesn't have much force to offer.

He steps into the kitchen and smirks.]

I wouldn't worry too much, Ellie. Don't you know? Goblins are terrible with knives. Why... [He thinks for a moment, then holds up his hat.]

There's no way that goblin could ever throw the knife well enough for it to land in my hat.

[backpacking]

[ Bless you, Dipper. Ellie does a little double-take, surprised by the voice, not immediately understanding what he's trying to do. Still, he's obviously got a plan, so she keeps her mouth shut, eyes flitting between the other kid and the goblin.

The goblin seems affronted by the claim. Gnashing its teeth, it examines the knife in its hands as if having an internal debate. Before too long, it tosses the small weapon toward the hat with a strange kind of delicacy, and actually does manage to land it inside. ]

Hey! [ Ellie laughs, delighted, grinning over at Dipper. ] That was awesome!

[ Even the goblin gives a proud, self-satisfied sort of grunt, though it's also not yet clear that he isn't getting the knife back. ]

Why the hell'd he do that?

[krmvgivv]

They're not the sharpest crayons in the box. [He grabs a potato from a cabinet.] Now shoo! Or I'll crush you as easily as I crush this stone!

[He squeezes hard and...


ok, it turns out potatoes are a lot harder to crush than he thought. He squeezes it a few times in his hand and frowns, then turns around and uses Ellie's knife to cut it in half on the counter. He steps aside and gestures boldly.]

AHA!

sam winchester ; the holly bears a prickle as sharp as any thorn

[ofletters]

december 18 - wendigo

[ Finally. He hates thinking it, like it's something good, but it's almost a relief to have something to hunt, something they can actually kill in Wonderland. Maybe that would sound serial killer-ish to most of the others, but he knows John, Dean, Bobby would understand. Jo and Ellen... well. He's always considered the two to be more adaptable, more easily readjusted into "normal" life. Particularly with the wedding coming up... ]

See it? [ He asks, shotgun in his arms, indicating a stretch of trees way out in the distance with a nod of his head. One of the wendigo had shot between them, a pale blur streaking between the brush. They're fast, deadly fast, with sharp senses and a thirst for flesh. He's strangely invigorated by it all and offers a breathy chuckle, shouldering the gun to retrieve a flare gun from his pocket. ]

Doubt it's alone. [ Sam mutters, scanning the surrounding area, keeping very still. ] Wouldn't be surprised if that one's supposed to catch our attention while another one stalks us from somewhere else.

[ One of his first hunts after leaving Stanford had been a wendigo. They hadn't been able to save all the kids from that camp, but there'd just been the one monster, that time, and they'd kept a young woman from losing her brother, which was, at least, a small win.

Nearby, a twig snaps. Sam stiffens, shotgun back in his hands, leveled upward and ready. ]

Careful...

Re: sam winchester ; the holly bears a prickle as sharp as any thorn

[failedparenting]

[It feel odd to have Sam taking point on this hunt. Back home, he was always the reluctant one, in the back trying to pretend he had a normal family, probably. John handn't ever felt comfortable having him be the lead besides in research, because God knows the kid would get his gangly ass snapped in two.

But this isn't the young Sammy he left at home. This kid knows his shit, and it's obvious John is impressed. Sure, he's not totally crazy about going in with conventional shotguns against this thing, but they've still got flare guns.]

Jesus Christ, I hate these things.

[He grumbles, crouching lower to lean against a tree.]

I dunno. Never known wendigo to team up.

[ofletters]

I'd say you hate most monsters, ghosts, and demons. [ To be fair, who doesn't? If they're actively trying to kill you, then there isn't much fun to be had. ]

Well, you never knew Wonderland was a real place, right? So...

[ Keep an eye out, is what he's saying. Sam keeps his gaze sharp, attention mostly on the monster and not his father, who he inherently trusts and trusts to hold his own. ]