maskormenacelogs | Merry Christmas! But I think I'll miss this one this year.

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Merry Christmas! But I think I'll miss this one this year.

WHO: Sookie and you
WHERE: De Chima, and all over.
WHEN:December 1st-31st
WHAT: Catch all open log for December. Ho ho ho.
WARNINGS: None as of yet, but will tag for anything that comes up

MERRY CHRISTMAS: Shopping in De Chima and Nonah
[For some people, two extra months of the holiday season might seem like a dream. Unfortunately, it's more like a life sucking nightmare that you can't wake up from and everything won't stop smelling like cinnamon. Back home, the new year was finally behind her, and then- poof. Thrown two months back to handle this crap all over again.

Not that Sookie hates Christmas. She loves it, really, it's one of the more pleasant times of the year. People make half an effort to think nicer thoughts, especially in December. But there's something about four solid months of nothing but Christmas music blaring over the radio and in shopping malls, and bad holiday movies on tv, and eggnog flavored everything that can make even the cheeriest person want to take out plastic Santa decorations with a BB gun.

Not that she will. She's just, y'know. Fantasizing.

She doesn't have many people to give presents to this year, a blessing and a curse. She figures she'll at least try to present an olive branch to the locals producing her show in the form of vaguely thoughtful gifts. Nothing she tries to put too much effort into, but still requires some looking. Sam's getting...well. Half of her just wants to take the easy way out and get him what she got him back home, but it seems kinda like cheating. So, ugh, she goes off into the cities to try and find something that isn't just flannel shirts or half-assed gift cards.

This sucks.]

GLORIA, IN EXECELSIS DEO: Sundays and Christmas Eve, Everywhere
[Sookie is still shopping around for churches, after figuring out the one Crane suggested was a damn Satanist church. God, what an asshole. There isn't one she's got her heart set on yet, so every Sunday she tries out a new one in hopes that she can find a right fit. She even tries out other denomination, curious about their message this time of year. That's the meaning of Christ mas anyway, love and toleration, right?

After services, she sticks around to chat, and then goes exploring in whatever city she finds herself in that day. She is also, unfortunately, followed by her trusty (ugh) cameraman sidekick, Jimmy. If you wanna actively get on tv, well, be her guest because she sure as hell doesn't want to.]

I GOT BLUE SKIES: Warm days in Heropa
[It's kind of surreal that on any given day, a person can just pick up, go to Florida, and be back by bedtime. At first Sookie is super hesitant to travel anywhere by Porter, but by the end of December, an almost desperate need for sun and temperatures over 50 degrees have her fleeing to Florida any day it's warm enough to wear shorts. She doesn't really bother with the beach, but she spends as much time outside as she possibly can, on patios and in parks, soaking up the sun.

Sook's never really noticed before, but she feels so much more energized now than she would at home. She's heard before about people getting depression, but only in the winter because that's when it's darkest. Maybe it's something like that? Hmm.]

DEALER'S CHOICE
[Make your own prompt! I believe in u.]

[OOC: If we haven't already discussed it, pop over here for Sook's permissions!]

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[Sookie's finally settled into her home by early December. It takes a while getting used to the new place- for all intents and purposes, she's lived in one house her whole life. This new house ("new") is comfortingly almost like home, just bigger, and if she closes her eyes she can pretend for a moment she's not in Virginia. It's got all the same problems you'd expect of a 19th century farmhouse converted to hell and back- weird leaks, chilly drafts in the worst places, floors that creak and groan with the slightest pressure.

She's far enough out from the road that she can't see people coming or going, which is nice, but it's still close enough to her neighbors that she gets cats from time to time. She's taken to leaving some food and water out on the porch, just in case she gets a visitor. It's nice, she thinks. She misses having a pet.]

Edited 2016-12-04 03:23 (UTC)

[Away from the road is good for Will, who's out and about in a body far furrier than his usual. He isn't sniffing around with an eye for leaks or drafts, oh no. His nose is working overtime for the source of what smells like a wonderful pit stop to happen upon. Snout down, ears up, tail wagging, he doesn't bother to hide himself. He figures whoever is leaving out treats would welcome a pup in need. And if that's not the case, if it's some bastard trying to lure pups in need for nefarious purposes, they'll be barking up the wrong tree. Whatever the case, it'll work out just fine.

He lets out a low cooing sound when he finds the bowls and immediately goes to the water first, lapping it up like he hasn't had a drink in days. A squirrel stops eating and eyes him suspiciously, but Will the dog does not return it and eventually the squirrel makes those obnoxiously loud chattering noises. Right by a window, for maximum obnoxiousness. And keeps going as long as Will the dog stays there.

Which will be a while since he's definitely chowing down on that bowl.]

[Meanwhile, Sookie is trying to paint her toenails a respectable blue. However, halfway through a very clean job, she hears a very insistent squirell who's pretty sure whatever is going on outside is the worst of violent murderers. Sook sighs, heaving herself off the kithen chair to get a good look at whatever is causing the front porch to melt down.

What she finds is a nice little mutt taking advantage of the food and water she likes to set out. See, and this is exactly why she does this. Thirsty pups get water, and she gets to pet some puppies. Excellent. She runs back into her kitchen for a moment to grab some scraps from last night's dinner, an offering of undercooked ground beef and bacon.]

Oh, hello there! You want something to eat, sweetheart?

[Um, of couse he does. She doesn't wait for a response before she scrapes all of her leftovers into the spare bowl she keeps on the porch.]

Here you go, baby, this'll be better than any nasty squirrels.

[Will perks up when the door opens, ears twisting all around like he needs to be sure which direction the sound is coming from. For a few seconds, he just stands there watching her with titled head. It's horribly cute. Even with the water dripping off his chin, it's cute as hell.

He watches her a few more seconds, letting her bask in the cute, before he steps forward and sniffs at the bowl. These are scraps. These are leftovers. This is not something he, as a human, would have any interest in. He's had worse, he's sure, but the dog part of him smells the offering and is pleased. So pleased. That tail starts wagging and he accepts this most gracious lure, casting her a quick side-eye before he starts wolfing down what is, absolutely, better than any nasty squirrels.

She'll find he's a friendly dog; if she moves to touch him, he won't shy away or run. Her new stray buddy is either a trusting sort or domesticated somehow because, yeah, if Sookie and her respectably blue toenails decide to give him attention he is definitely going to absorb it and be a Good Boy. No violent murderers here.

Ha ha.]

[After spooning the food into the bowl, she sets the dirty plate aside and plops down right there on the porch. It's chilly, but she can manage in just a wrap. When else does she get to enjoy visitors that aren't asshole squirrels?]

Hey, what's your name? [She gives the dog a little scratch behind the ears, smiling brightly.] Don't look like you've got any tags.

[He's cute as heck, that's for sure. It's surprising that a dog like this would be all the way out here with no tags. And even considering the last time something like this happened the dog turned into a naked man, it doesn't even cross her mind. Dogs are just dogs here, right?

But even if there was a slightly cannibalistic murderer on her porch, it would be like, what. The ninth time?]

[He finishes the generous offering before turning his attention to Sookie, snout stuffed right at her ear as he gives her a proper, thorough sniff over. The invasion of space is a charming, animal thing—this is the behavior any other friendly dog new to her might display, nothing more and nothing less. It's important, Will realized early on, to act within a certain range of dog behaviors if he wanted to keep walking down the road instead of ending up in some sort of trouble he'd have to turn into a naked man to escape.

No tags at all. A man needs a name. But does a dog? Depends on who's asked. Will has no real name as a dog, except in one body. He is Charcoal then. But the whole gig of his has been discovered by the Charcoal namer. Still counts. He is Charcoal when he's that particular pup.

This body has no name. This body with tail wagging, now happily stretching out front legs on Sookie's lap, tongue lolling and jaw open. It's a doggie smile. Would she care to name this obviously just a stray dog and definitely not a slightly cannibalistic murderer cozying up to her?]

[After the whole concert incident it becomes pretty damn clear to Sookie that she just can't let her producers and showrunners and whoever else is responsible for that monstrosity they call a show push her around anymore. Yes, it's her own fault that she signed the contract, but she was confused as hell and still reeling from the battle back home. No one's gonna ask about some paper shoved in front of them after they'd just seen several people die. God.

At first her efforts to find a lawyer to help her go pretty abysmally. Everyone she calls seems more interested in the fact that she's and imPort than her getting taken advantage of. It's by pure coincidence that she runs across Jeff's name, while she's doing the morning crossword over coffee. 7 across: imPort lawyer, 10 letters.

Oh hey.

Sook only calls to make an appointment, because she's getting real sick of playing telephone tag and listening to muzak versions of popular pop songs. On the day of, she tells her team that she needs to go to the lady doctor, and blessedly they all decide she can have the day to herself.

She only hopes to god he's nicer than all the other lawyers she's ever met.]

[The Heropa office Jeff rents out is pretty swank, if he does say so himself. It's on the outskirts of the city, the upper level of a two storey building, newly built with plenty of open space and a whole lot of light. The interior is decked out like something from the fifties, pale blues and wood, added with the modern twist of glass and stainless steel dotted around, minimalist but expensive looking, just how he likes it.

Theres someone at the reception desk that invites Sookie to sit on one of the couches while she waits, and she's the only one there other than a sullen old guy sat silently in a corner, face buried in a newspaper.

Jeff doesn't keep her sat long, but just long enough to suggest that he is extremely busy and not just... sitting in his office playing games on his phone. When the door to his office does swing open, Wingers in the door way with the smarmiest of grins and a billion dollar three piece suit. As far as lawyers go, he definitely appears to be aiming for the rich-as-fuck lawyer look rather than the sweaty old white dude lawyer.]

Ms. Stackhouse? Please, come in, take a seat.

[The office itself keeps with the theme of the rest of the place. His desk kept sparse beyond a retro steel desk lamp and a laptop and his name plate facing her just in case she forgets who he is at any point. There's even a whole selection of law books on the wall behind him, just to display how this most definitely is a law office. These things are important to portray.]

[Well for one thing, it's the nicest damn law office she's ever seen. Nicer than Sid-Matt Lancaster's, anyway. She's pretty sure Sid-Matt couldn't even afford most of this decor, not that she's sure he'd want to. This is all more "city man with money" than the "humble country lawyer" persona he likes to exude from every pore. Portia would probably strangle someone to get an office like this, though.

The bitch.]

Thank you so much for seeing me. I'm sure you've got way more important cases you're working on.

[That's the sense Sook had gotten from various media outlets, anyway. She hadn't quite gone the distance and watched his show, but she'd wanted to be at least a little prepared for what kind of man Mr Winger would be. It always helps, especially when brains don't quite match up with what's on the outside.]

Nah, every case is important, especially when it's a fellow imPort.

[Truth be told he prefers anything involving imPorts, but doing work for the local folk is a damn good way to earn big money quickly. It's amazing how much some folk will pay for a "celebrity" as their lawyer. Some natives sure do love imPorts and Jeff's just fine with capitalising on that.

Jeff does't waste time in dropping into the super cushy leather office chair of his and swinging his feet up onto the equally pricy polished wood of his desk. Once settled he reaches for a decanter stashed in one of the drawers and withdraws it, along with two crystal tumblers. Both glasses get a very generous amount of scotch poured into them, no ice, and then one is pushed towards Sook without question. If she doesn't want it, he'll finish it off anyway.]

So what is it I can actually do for you?

[ In many ways, winter is the best time to be in Florida. The summers turn much of the state into a sweat-and-asphalt stew, driving people indoors to the comfort of climate control and sending the violent crime rate soaring. The winter better affords walks in the park, between flourishing flowers and in the oddly shaped shadows of the omnipresent, iconic, Seussian absurdities of the palm trees.

This particular park is lucky enough to be hosting a family of flamingos, which stand about in the pond like socialites at a mixer, managing to look indolent even while standing on one leg. They're a popular attraction, and a number of people have gathered by the water's edge, amongst them a tall man with a silver-and-copper beard, wearing a panama suit the color of melted vanilla ice cream.

He inclines his head towards Sookie, attention leaving the luminous birds, and alighting on the luminous woman. His pale eyes glint. ]

Please don't think me crass or unimaginative, but I must ask- do I know you from somewhere?

[ The man who addresses her- he is not a man, that much Sookie can tell at once. Sure it walks and talks like a man, can likely perform most of the functions proper to that classification of being, but all the same he is definitely not. His thoughts are not a stream or a steady flow, but a winter nimbus, chilly and vast and strangely dispersed.

The impression is particularly incongruous here in the sun-drenched park. ]

[Sookie won't admit it, but as soon as she found out this park had flamingos it immediately became her favorite place to run to on her down time. She's only ever been to a zoo once in her life, so the novelty of being near candy pink, one legged birds is still far from stale. And it really helps that there's an ice cream vendor nearby.

She's been at the pond for maybe five minutes watching the birds, when she gets that creep up her spine that puts every cell in her body on alert. She looks up, sees the bearded man, but it doesn't quite click. At first she thinks he's just another person pinning her down as an imPort and looking to drill her for questions or take picture, but when she faces him she realizes how wrong she is. In one month here, Sookie's already come to realize one very important thing: people from this world aren't really special. Well, they are, but not in the way that she and Sam are. Or if there are any supes among the native population, they're real good at hiding,

So: there's no way this man is local. She doesn’t have the name for whatever he is, but there is very definitely something about this man that isn’t human. She thinks she may have felt something similar before, from the maenad or in that awful concert. But it's not quite that.]

Uh, tv maybe? I've got a show coming out soon, there's been a few ads out the last week.

[She laughs brightly, smile tight as it always is when she finds herself in uncomfortable positions.]

Virginia Lakeshore, they're calling it.

I'm afraid I don't watch much television. Though now I know you will be gracing that humble screen, my dear, I may have to look into it.

[ He turns to face her, abandoning the flamingos in favor of the woman, who is anyway a much better conversationalist. He smiles, a handsome enough expression on those rugged features, but it lacks warm. It doesn't quite reach his pale eyes. Winteryness pervades, persisting even in the face of sunlight reflected off a flamingo pond. ]

It must just be my age. So many memories- everything starts to seem familiar.

[ He adjusts his tie in an unnecessary, wholly symbolic motion. Making sure of his comportment in the sight of a beautiful woman. The old world presumption is almost as distinct as his inhumanity, though there's nothing supernatural about it. ]

You're an actress, then?

[He's definitely charming, she'll give him that. The smile, the words, the whole deal, and yet there's something about it that reminds her a lot of several vampires she's met before. It's all kinds of nice, but if she looks even a little under the surface, she can see how thin that coat of paint is.

Sookie pulls herself up a little straighter, all the better to look him in the eye. Old habits die hard, though where supes are concerned they don't really need to go dying at all.]

Oh, lord no. I can't act to save my life , it's a reality show. I wouldn't bother with it, it's not gonna be any good [Please.] They gave it to me when I got here.

'Reality television.' [ His tone alone suspends the phrase in scare quotes. No hand gestures required. ] You'd think that would be a contradiction in terms.

[ Meeting his gaze, one might notice that his eyes are very slightly mismatched. Not in color or size, nothing so glaring or asymmetrical, but rather in authenticity. One of them is a fake, that much is certain, though which one is difficult to determine. ]

Don't sell yourself short. The finest performers often lack the ego necessary to strut the stage. They are so skilled at seeming, they bely their exceptional nature.

[ The implication is hardly subtle. If she has taken a measure of him, he seem to have take her measure in turn.

He extends a broad, rough-fingered hand, palm facing upwards. ]

I'm Wednesday, by the way. Recently arrived.

[The Count has little respect for this planet's holidays, but he recognizes the value of gifts as an investment in maintaining useful connections. And, unfortunately, he still does not have the wealth and influence to simply delegate such menial chores to someone else, and must waste precious hours of his day mingling with the masses and making purchases for trinkets as though he were one of them. As though he were ordinary. Most distasteful.

As always, he does not allow his true thoughts to show in his demeanour or expression. All he allows the world to see is an elderly man in a dark suit with a dignified, courteous bearing, out for some innocent holiday shopping- specifically in a store for jewelry and watches, at the moment. Yet someone like Sookie will be able to perceive something else: a man with strong mental shields in place against would-be mind readers, and the aura of strong magical power surrounding him.]

[All the gifts for her crew have been bought- the ones that matter, at least- so all that's left is to find something for Sam that isn't another set of flannel shirts or a gift card to a home improvement store. Sookie eventually finds herself wandering into a jewelry store, at a loss for anything else. At first she thinks cuff links, but she's pretty sure he's never even rented a tux in his life much less owned one. He doesn't wear any kind of jewelry, no, so a watch? That would-

Her browsing is cut abruptly short when she finds herself walking headlong into an older gentleman browsing watches as well. Oh lord, Sook, watch where you're going girl.]

Oh! I'm sor-

[She looks the man in the eye, and she knows immediately there's something about him. Magic, she thinks, but quite the magic from home. Her mind passes over his passively, as it does with everyone else- impossible to stop, just another sense like sight or smell- but it registers a whole lot of nothing. Not nothing like, vampire nothing. Nothing like somethings being hid nothing.

Oh. Oh.]

I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going.

Clearly you weren't.

[However much Dooku values his courteous exterior, something as unpleasant as being bumped like a common pedestrian is enough to make his nostrils flare with irritation, if only for the moment. Ordinarily these things don't happen to him: he can sense such aggravations in the Dark Side, and evade accordingly. But this woman is different. He can feel her mental power, just as she feels his, and reflexively reinforces his mental shields accordingly.]

It's quite all right, though. I assure you.

[Even as he speaks and puts a smile back on his face, Dooku's dark eyes are boring into Sookie's own, scanning, examining. She knows something of what he can do now... he must determine how much, and whether she will be a problem.]

I was just- sorry, I...y'know, watches.

[Sookie doesn't often make an absolute fool of herself like this, but she figures finding another telepath- a strongly shielded one no less- staring her down is reason enough to be a little scattered.

Her own mental shields are nothing compared to his. They're stronger than they were at the beginning of the year, but it's like comparing tupperware to cast iron. And in her surpside, she's got even a more tenuous grip than she normally does. Get a grip, Sook. Stand up straight and get your shit together.

She knows. He knows she knows. She knows he knows. What now?]

Here, you were here first. I'll get out of your way.

Please, do not trouble yourself on my account. I was almost finished here anyway.

[Externally, the Count's image as a gracious older gentlemen is fully back in place. He steps aside for her with a formal gesture, inviting her to take his place where he was looking at the watches.]

They are fine watches, but perhaps not as elegant as what I am looking for.

[Internally, it is a different story. Once Dooku is confident that his shields are intact, that his secrets have not been compromised, he ventures a mental outreach toward Sookie's mind- a wordless impulse toward telepathic connection, a brush of energy asking Can you hear me?]

[The sensation of power against her own mind is strange, but somehow she instinctively knows the feeling well. Like someone's poking at a limb that's been asleep.

I can hear you.]

You know, I think they might not be quite right for who I'm shopping for. I might just go get a coffee isntead?

[This is big for her, and if he's even amenable to talking about their shared ability she'd really like to do it sitting down and not awkwardly hovering in front of watches she probably can't afford. She looks up at him hopefully, praying that he takes the hint. He's got to, right?]

[Count Dooku has many abilities, and being able to take a hint is indeed one of them. He withdraws his telepathic contact from her mind and smiles to her again, as though he's warmly pleased by the serendipity of the situation.]

What a coincidence. I was just thinking I could use some refreshment myself. If it is not an imposition, perhaps I might join you? We could discuss our... purchases.

[They're not going to talk about purchases.]

[ Sarah likewise needs to get down to Heropa whenever she gets too sick of the colder weather in Nonah. It's not just the weather, exactly—she's used to cold Toronto winters and rainy London ones—but because staying in one place for too long starts to drive her crazy after a while, makes her need to get out and escape to somewhere different.

On this particular day, she's standing outside the Porter building in Heropa wearing shorts and a tank top, watching as people come in and out. If anyone seems receptive, she pulls a small stack (look, she's being a helpful sister, but not too helpful) of business cards out of her pocket and holds one out. ]

Event planning by Alison.

[A month and a half in, Sookie's practically used to being accosted on the street by curious people. She's not sure what it is that makes her approachable- does she have chronic resting nice face that no one's ever told her about? It's so obnoxious it's almost enough to make her wish for the time when people gave her a wide berth back home, on account of the "crazy".

And yet, she's doing nothing to stop it. They're weird, but largely harmless people just curious about the imPorts. So when Sara pops out in front of her, she steels herself for another quiz session about who's dating who and who isn't.

Except she gets a card shoved under her nose instead.]

Oh! Thank you?

[She takes it, more relived than anyone getting hit up by advertisers on the street should have a right to.]

Event planning?

My sister's business. She does shit for imPorts and natives, whichever. She's really good.

[ Sarah gives Sookie a once-over, then glances down at her arm, looking for a tattoo. ]

You're an imPort, yeah?

[ To an extent, Diablo has technically not committed himself to one church in particular yet himself -- most consistently he's been attending the one Jaime recommended, but even if the atmosphere there is good enough for what he needs, being a "regular" anywhere again is something he's still working on wrapping his head around. Better that no one get too used to his presence until he's got things a little more figured out. Assuming, of course, it's even possible.

He's making some manner of effort now though at least, dressing a little more appropriately in a black dress shirt -- which (mostly) covers the tattoos along his arms, even having the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he does -- and a white tie. Ultimately it really shouldn't matter what he wears, but he figures part of taking things seriously means showing respect where it's due... but that doesn't mean after services he isn't already pulling at the tie like he can't get it loose fast enough, though it's hard to accomplish while moving; when he looks up from that is when he notices Sookie and her cameraman passing somewhere close by.

Though he doesn't recognize her right off the bat, Diablo still can't help but squint for a moment. Being from LA, seeing people getting filmed is not a new sight to him, but she also doesn't seem particularly thrilled about it. Should he... help out, somehow...? Or at least go see what's going on.

He catches up to walk alongside Sookie, commenting wryly: ]

Hey. You know you bein' followed, right?

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Merry Christmas! But I think I'll miss this one this year.

For Will Graham

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For Jeff Winger

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BLUE SKIES

Re: BLUE SKIES

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Shopping, Nonah- LMK if this doesn't give enough to go on!

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blue skies

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→ gloria in etc. etc., heropa