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Sweet Dreams - Printable Version

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Sweet Dreams - Alvin Bixby - December 8, 2024

December 6th, 1894 - Christmas Tree Event

it's hard to have sweet dreams when I'm such a nightmare
I don't wanna talk about it, rather not go there
when I find a good thing I burn it down slow

Somehow, over the last six month since starting at the ministry Alvin found his life to be strangely settled and... boring, if he was going to admit it. Stable, profitable, but it was starting to feel a little mindless and he was starting to remember why he never wanted a ministry job to begin with. The worst part was that he was sort of stuck. There wasn't anything else he could envision himself doing; making brooms wasn't an option anymore, he couldn't work with his hands like he'd always planned to and now he was starting to get his financial life together, but at the cost of his sanity, it felt like.

Luckily for him, it was hard to be too melancholy at an event like this. Alvin was no stranger to tree farms, he had worked with several in various countries during his apprenticeship and short-lived broommaking career and thought it brought on a wave of nostalgia, he found he didn't mind as much as expected. This Christmas would be much better than the last. Sloane was home, Wally was making progress and they would all be together again. He had been tasked with getting a tree for the house and so he and Sloane had set out together, but she had gotten caught up with some friends near the fire pits with her cocoa, so he agreed to wander around to find a tree himself. He was getting better about not hovering over her, especially when she was with other people. These weren't young ladies he recognized as her Hogwarts, circle, they must have been from her society days and he found that still twisted his insides a little, so the walk in the fresh air was good to clear his head.

He was meandering down the rows, pulling in the unmistakable aroma of the evergreens around him, bent on finding a Douglass fir, because in his professional opinion, they were the sturdiest and had the best scent. It couldn't be too tall and he had perhaps too critical of an eye, but he was content to keep meandering until he found exactly what he was looking for. That was until something cold hit the back of his head, causing him to yelp, trying to shake the snow from the back of his jacket. He turned to find a group of fairies laughing as they gathered more snow. He had a few choices; fight or flee and Alvin wasn't stupid enough to retaliate against the fairies, so he turned on his heel to try and make a hasty retreat. Of course they gave chase and pelted him with more snowballs, even as he rounded the corner of the aisle. "Duck!" He suggested as he hastily scrambled to find some shelter, motioning to to the person coming his way to get out of the way too.


Hurling preferably! MCAB 18+ for a "good" match, but really, anybody because I loves me the drams.



RE: Sweet Dreams - Teodora Flores - December 28, 2024

Nothing excited Teodora quite like the Christmas season.

Well, that wasn't quite true. All her life she had been wild for every manner of holiday, and particularly those which most leant themselves to grand and glittering celebrations. She approached Easter with unrestrained abandon. Bright colors and flowers, the creeping warmth of a deepening spring, garden parties and egg hunts and lace-- but it was no Christmas. Candles and dancing, holly wreaths and evergreen trees and the crinkle of package paper, and the dresses... oh, but the dresses simply made Teodora's heart sing.

She had opted for a gown of crimson that day, and the warmth of her heaviest coat. Not a new ensemble, but a well-kept favorite meant specifically to draw the eye. The summer season bore no fruit for her this year-- not even the low-hanging picks of the year previous-- and she was determined to make her impression before the next one came around.

Of course, that all went straight out of Dora's head once she set foot in the seemingly endless enchanted forest of soon-to-be decorations. Her feet carried her wherever her eyes fell, drawn in by the magic of fresh snow and chatter, and at some point before she noticed she'd lost track of her own companions. Dora scarce had time to find herself alone before a strange came careening around the corner with a flurry of snowballs hot on his heels.

"Oh!" Dora yelped, took several ungraceful steps backwards but found her reaction too slow by half. The cluster of tiny creatures chasing him dove into the snow once more, filling their hands with a shower of snow which covered Dora from head to toe before she could slip and stagger her way behind one of the trees. She wound up sitting in a snowbank, white powder trapped in every crease of her gown and tangled into her dark hair, just a little stunned.

Alvin Bixby


RE: Sweet Dreams - Alvin Bixby - January 6, 2025

Alvin saw the young woman try to escape, and though he didn't fare any better against the fairies as they managed to catch up rather quickly, and hurl a small snowstorm at him as well. He followed her between the trees, hoping the fairies had their fill or at least would get confused by their sudden disappearance.

What he hadn't expected was for the young woman to be on the ground and in an effort not to fall over or on her, Alvin wound up tripping over his own two feet and landing flat on his back in the snow beside her. He could feel the cold of the snow inside his jacket and he shivered, knowing there was no use. "Are you alright?" He sputtered, trying to assess the same of himself. Winded and probably bruised, he was no real worse for the wear. The pair of them must have looked quite the sight, covered in snow— and a fresh layer as the fairies bombarded them again before skittering off to find someone else to harass.

"That was... unexpected. I apologize." Alvin said as she sat up and started to dust himself off.




RE: Sweet Dreams - Teodora Flores - January 6, 2025

Teodora pushed herself upright with a puff and a little shake of her head. Several dark curls slipped free in the process. Though still wide-eyed and seated in the snow, she answered the stranger with a breathless laugh.

"Yes," Dora smiled and began dusting the snow from her skirts with one hand. "Are you?" Perhaps snowballs did not make for a traditional threat, even when thrown by fairies, but the creatures were mischievous. She could not imagine they would bother separating pebbles or chunks of ice from the snow they gathered in the throes of their game. "Whatever did you do to attract their attention?" Not that she assumed it was difficult to do, but she and her friends had all managed. They'd been lucky, clearly.