[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

[krmvgivv]

Um.

[Dipper gives the fancy space gun the raccoon in the Santa suit has given him.]

....thanks? Do I even... want to know what this does?

[deadlystar]

Gamora was annoyed by all the craziness going around the mansion. It was practically impossible to escape, too, but she managed to distance herself from some of it for a time, only to spot a familiar raccoon looking fluffier than usual and carrying an overstuffed bag.

"Rocket, what are you wearing?"

Here comes the Grinch! She's even the right color.

[rosswood]

It's taken him the better part of the day, but Alex thinks he's finally - finally - managed to get those goddamn gremlin things off his back. He's still darting infrequent looks over his shoulder, frowning, paranoid that those damn goblins will come cackling back to fuck up whatever it is he's doing next. Just like old times, almost.

He's hiding out in the kitchen, for now - plenty of distractions and handily sharp objects should those little fuckwads come crawling out of the woodwork. He's expecting them to come at him any minute. Any minute now.

What he doesn't expect is a surprise visit from a gun-toting raccoon resplendent in a red and white Santa costume, and he promptly jumps in alarm.

"What the - " He adjusts his grip on whatever this...thing is, frowning at it in trepidation. It's shiny and metallic and vaguely gun-shaped, which for some reason is making him sick to his stomach, and not in a fun way. "What is this?"