[OPEN] You know, I think this Christmas thing. It's not as tricky as it seems.

[beatupgrass]

Who: Santa Rocket and YOU
Where: All around the mansion.
When: December 22-25
Rating: PG
Summary: Free of Krampusjail, Rocket finds his room in a state and submits to the will of the red suit. Christmas spirit ensues... sort of.
The Story:

Rocket's liberation from the pits of Krampusjail didn't come without a price- specifically, the fact that his damned closet was malfunctioning. At first, he tried to work around it, but after realizing his choice was either a pair of overalls soaked in oil or the d'asted red suit the closet kept spitting out, he swallowed his pride and slid the thing on.

...And immediately a new sense of perspective washed over him. His eyes get a little brighter, his tail a little bushier, his fur a little glossier, and his mind no longer preoccupied with the idiocy of the universe. No, of course not- there's so much to be done to spread good cheer to this mansion. With a new determination, he sets out to begin his work.

~*~

The... problem of being a raccoonoid from space with no concept of Christmas is that he has no idea how idea how all this works, but he knows what he likes and what would probably benefit the mansion's youth, so Santa Rocket and his overlarge bag of tricks will be delivering gifts to the mansion's youth in the form of weapons he's made himself and hoarded over his time in the mansion, ranging from slingshots to grenades to fancy guns. It makes perfect sense to him.

So there's a raccoon handing out weapons to children in the most cheerful way possible, because surely this is how Christmas works. That's happening.

Comments

[beatupgrass]

[it's a surprisingly fancy looking weapon that looks like it could do a ton of damage. however, when rocket beams, and launches into the explanation, it's... well]

You point it at somebody botherin' you, pull the trigger, and boom. They're stuck in an impenetrable bubble for a couple hours. Nice, huh?

[he pats Dipper jovially on the leg.] Merry Christmas, kid!

[krmvgivv]

Huh, neat. [Dipper looks at it with even more interest. Like many 12 year old boys, the idea of getting a cool, dangerous weapons is pretty awesome. But also like many 12 year old boys, he wouldn't... actually want to hurt anyone. This seems like a great compromise.]

...how impenetrable are we talking? Would, say, some sort of intangible demon be able to get through it?

[beatupgrass]

I dunno. I never met an intangible demon.

[he shrugs and then grins, BECAUSE CLEARLY THIS IS THE BEST IDEA TO LEAVE YO TO CHANCE.] One way to find out!

[krmvgivv]

....testing under controlled conditions with all safety protections taken?

[beatupgrass]

[he stares at him for a long time, like something inside him is warring with two answers and his grin becomes slightly strained.]

Absolutely! Safety first and all that.

[oh god that actually hurt. why did that hurt.]

[krmvgivv]

[Yeah that definitely wasn't what Rocket was thinking.]

This isn't something you'd want to try something and be wrong on.

[beatupgrass]

Risks are part of life, so long as you're smart enough to not blow your own arm off.

[he's gotta be rocket, even he's santa.]

[krmvgivv]

In other words, don't take stupid risks. Make sure what you want is worth what you're risking.

[beatupgrass]

Got it in one. [he reaches up and affectionately ruffles Dipper's... head, I guess, since he won't remove the hat to do it.

it's as weird as it sounds.]

[krmvgivv]

[That was weird and awkward.]

....Right. Well, thanks. So far you're way better than the other Santas.

[beatupgrass]

Hah! [well that delights the side of him that isn't corrupted by the red suit of glee.] I knew I'd be a natural at this crap. Merry Christmas, kid. [and with that, he'll grab his bag and slide off to spread joy and weapons to everyone else.]