2019-12-02 - Winter Wonderland

Having arrived via motorcycle, Dylan clambers off the back seat while Mae pushes down the kickstand. He's dressed in a rather ugly christmas sweater ( http://hespokestyle.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/ugly-christmas-sweater-t-rex.jpg ) that hopefully won't inspire any horrific things, amirite?! A pair of jeans and sneakers polishes off the outfit, and he takes a moment to reach into one of the saddlebags of the bike, pulling out his messenger bag before he heads along with the dancer towards the cabins. "Which is..." He asks, giving a glance at those still being constructed, head bobbing back and fourth as those blue eyes flicker around, trying to look at all the things at once.

Since he's not too far from these A-frames, and likes to keep an eye on people living near the forest (once a Forester, always a Forester...), August stops by the Winter Wonderland on his drive home. He's in his black leather jacket, work boots, dark denim jeans, and a black, merino wool sweater, with some black leather gloves keep his hands warm. He walks along the food trucks, pausing at the air rifle game. He gives it a go, gets a stuffed moose. Hey, excellent, he can give it to Eleanor. Or one of his nieces. He'll decide later. He angles towards the toy shop, to see what overpriced stuff they have on hand.

Zoiya flings a tarp over her motorcycle because it always likes to rain out here when you least want it to. That done, Mae moves to join Dylan, shrugging as she aims a wry grin up at him. "Not sure. It doesn't matter right now though, there is hot chocolate to be acquired and food trucks to visit." She's clad in a long mauve sweater, black leggings and warm booties. She snags Dylan's hand and starts to pull him toward a food truck. "We should also take a look at some of the stuff for sale, never know when we might need a present for someone." She listens to the music for a beat before she points. "Cocoa or nog?"

Winter Wonderland. Just the name was inviting! It was something to do to pass the time and Erin stopped by. The cabins were of interest to her too, but for now she meanders by herself beyond the food trucks, though she does stop for an egg nog because tis the season and all that. There's a bag from the toy shop back in her car she'd purchased already, preferring to shop local for what she could. Seattle would come later.

"Sorry kid, just handed over the last moose."

Viktor's parked up in a deep blue windbreaker, a horribly festive wool cap in green white and red atop his head. He was roped in to manning the air rifle booth by a blindsiding request, and let it never be said that he doesn't at least commit to promises made when half coherent and barely paying attention. A girl, around seven, has just nailed the absolute hell out of 18 of the 20 tin silhouettes the the back of the booth, parents nowhere to be found, and with a look of scorn that threatens to melt the poor guy's face.

"To the old guy? The fuck does he want with a stuffed toy?"

Viktor, for a moment, just stares at the child.

"But studio," Dylan starts to complain as his hand is snagged, and all too happily he gets distracted, veering off towards the food trucks with her. He doesn't miss a second as he answers, "Eggnog," Because cocoa? You can get that any time of the year. "Yeah? Who?" He wonders as his attention drifts to the presents on display. Those old fashioned ones? They get a murmured, "Dad," But then his gaze spies the games, and the stuffed animals, casting a suspicious, side long glance towards Mae. As they approach the food trucks, Erin gets a big, lopsided smile, just because.

Love, bundled up in a bright red sweater dress, knee height winter boots complete with fur lining, and some double thick tights, comes out of the little cabin full of cocoas and toppings carrying two ceramic mugs painted with snowflakes. She's balancing twin towers of whipped cream on top. Given the temperature of the cocoa, it's not likely they'll stay structurally sound for very long. She's holding them out in front of her, paying more attention to them than the whether the path all the way to the little air rifle booth is completely clear. She wanders past the hipsters, and gives them a grin while they sing, the girl singing a solo gives her a wave back and a little wink. Must be friends.

She sidles closer, an envelope trapped between her elbow and body, standing awkwardly until the savvy singer reaches over to take it, and then Love's on her way again. Payment made on the go! She's in a rush before the last push of the night begins. Places to be! The singers continue on with the end of the song with nary a hiccup in their performance.

August picks his way through the toy shop, always on the look out for amusing things. The girls are a bit old for anything in it, truth be told, so he's mostly amusing himself. So the moose is going to Eleanor, is what it comes down to. A friend for her badger from their first date.

He comes back out of the toy shop, spies Erin and gives her a smile and a wave. "Getting some shopping done?" he asks once he's close enough.

Mae comes to a stop at the eggnog place, buying one for her and Dylan. She hands over his cup, taking a sip from hers as she spies the old fashioned toys. "You think he'd like those?" She asks, pausing to give them a second look, leaning down to see how the wooden joints are connected to one another. "What are we eating?" She asks, there are a few trucks to choose from and she's never been overly picky when it comes to food. "Then we can spy the cabins and see what the insides look like, yeah?" She takes another sip and pauses to watch kids playing games with guns. Viktor gets an upnod and a grin before her attention turns back eye Dylan, hoping he's made a choice for food.

While Erin had actually been to the Cabaret she probably didn't recognize the dancer from there. A look is given to the couple though and in response to the smile given her way, she finds herself responding with one of her own. "Merry Christmas," she offers the duo. No, she's not really the Happy Holidays type. Hesitating near the singers, she listens to the music, just getting in the festive spirit of the season. Catching sight of the wave, she gives a cheerful one in response. "August, it's good to see you. I have, I'm having a lot of fun shopping this year for Christmas." She gives a crooked smile. "I hope those yule logs I delivered were helpful for you."

"Quality Craftsmanship." Comes Dylan's response as to why his father would like them, his shoulder bumping in against her own. It's a momentary distraction for the words Erin gives, and up a hand lifts to wave back, "Merry Christmas!" Fingers curl around the eggnog, hefting it up to smell the concoction, and a low rumbling note of pleasure comes from him before he speaks again. "Waffles." Comes his firm, unyielding answer, pointing towards the sign that has, 'nog and bourbon whipped cream'. How can you say no? "Gunna see," He promises, head tipped down to make certain that those cabins? Will be examined at some point, at least.

Viktor purses up his lips for a moment, glances around for any sign of this kid's parents, slides an upturned old tobacco tin filled with air rifle pellets to yet another youngster down the line without a word, then leans over the counter to pull little Suzie's fur-lined hood on her bright pink coat up and over her head, pulling the drawstring toggles tight enough that she can't see.

Of course, this would be right when Mae is grinning at him.

She gets a little salute in return, the sound of hood-muffled swearing child thankfully drowned out by the singers. It totally knocks the second kid off of his game, though. 6 out of 20. Poor showing.

"Suze, you can have two reindeer and a lizard If you stop swearing. Jason, that was a mess. Have a giraffe."

Viktor's idea of prize tiers is... esoteric.

"They were," August confirms with a nod. "Kind of interesting, when I check them out, they're just," he shrugs, "branches. Not like the last time Finch and I encountered those sort before. Just touching them got us a little," he spins his index finger next to his temple. "I'll sit down and take a closer look," he taps his temple directly now, "soon as I have a chance to talk to Alexander about it. We'll see what kind of information we can pull from them. I'm almost tempted to ask someone in Forestry to do a sample analysis for me, just out of curiosity, but it'd be weeks before I got anything back." He shrugs, sighs. "Finch and I had a run in with some of them too, so, Alexander wants to get on top of it."

His attention is pulled to the mother and her herd of children, and his mouth twitches in a smile. He's not paying particular attention to the music, though.

"Waffles." Mae nods her agreement, smiling briefly toward Erin as she and Dylan start toward that particular food truck. The music gives her pause and she stops, which causes Dylan to bump into her back. "That.. is creepy." She says of the music, casting a gaze at the speaker for a few beats before she continues on, frowning. "Weird music for the holiday season." She shrugs and folds her arms, gazing at the menu that the waffle truck has to offer. "You know, we eat a lot of waffles, not that I mind, but we're gonna get sick of them soon, then what happens?" Surely that question is rhetorical, Dylan.

There is a momentary look of dread that crosses Dylan's features as those children are heard, and then over he leans towards Mae. "Not neighbors..." He says with an ever so hopeful tone. Up he straightens, only to have every bit of those big, shiny, happy features start to fall. "Jokey?" He whispers out, eyes peering around as if expecting to find someone, but when they aren't spied? A long swallow comes, and then? He starts to drink his eggnog. All of it. It leave Mae needing to half drag him, and once she confirms that it's creepy? This blue eyes go bigger, flickering around as he points out. "No. Speakers."

Oh it was a magical evening, so magical. With a touch of whimsy, Erin listens to August and his solemn explanation. A soft sigh, "There's always time to check them out in all sorts of ways. Don't you just love Christmas music? We should all go caroling this year. Do you think Lilith, Isabella, Byron, Eleanor and Alexander would go for it?" Her lips tilt into a delighted smile at the very idea. Swaying to the music, she really seems to be enjoying the evening. What's in the egg nog!? The smile from Mae is given back with a friendly wave. Everyone was so friendly. Maybe it was the season.

"Two reindeer, the lizard, and that weird duck." Suzie points out the turkey that was obviously made on a time crunch in some factory once she's freed her face from her hood.

Viktor takes a breath. A slow one. One that has his eyes closing for a second, even as he hands over Jason's 'well-won' Giraffe, which just so happens to be one of the largest stuffed toys on the prize rack. He expected a lot of things to happen while he was stuck manning a booth. Drunks. More Drunks. Being shot at least twice by teenagers and four-year-olds. He did not expect to be haggled by a petulant seven-year-old who he last met when she shot him repeatedly with a Nerf gun in the hospital waiting room.

He certainly didn't expect to give in so quickly. "Fine. Question." The question can wait until he's got all four of the toys placed out on the counter. Both reindeer combined are slightly larger than the girl herself. "How, exactly, do you plan to carry these?"

Jason picks his nose and admires his Giraffe. More people should be like Jason.

August blinks at Erin. "Caroling," he repeats. No, he does not think Byron or Alexander will go for that. Isabella and Lilith, maybe. Probably Eleanor. But what's weirder to him is her delivery.

He rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, Christmas music," he says. He's imagining it. The wedding was just a fluke. He takes to watching Viktor engage in a battle of wills with Suzie of the many plush animals, which brings the flying waffles into his line of sight. Something is off, and he's not even sure what it is.

Love sets down the mugs, waving to Dylan and Mae. "Marry Christmas, sweetpeas!" She turns to Vik then. "Babe, I gotta go solve a mallow issue." She picks up one of the mugs, eats a huge bite of the melty whip. "Hold down the fort," is what she says, but it comes out somewhat muffled by her mouthful of sweet whipped cream. She leans in, and then thinks better of it with Suzie standing there. "Hello, Susan. Your mom is having a minor meltdown. I'd steer clear of the cocoa shack for now." With that, Love puts her mug down again and jingles a pair of keys laden with key fobs and a picture of Suzie and her brother (not Love's keys).

She glances between Suzie and Vik. She mouths Good Luck, then leaves the poor man to his fate.

Mae ducks when the waffles come flying out, and for a moment she thinks the person inside threw them. She gathers herself to give them a piece of her mind, but then everyone looks confused. "Maybe.. we don't eat here?" Then Dylan speaks and she watches him for a few brief moments. "What's wrong?"

Love is spotted and Mae blows her a kiss as she considers what might be a better choice than flying waffles. Then something crashes and she jumps, turning to see what has broken. "Is it me or is everything flying around or breaking?" She starts to make her way to the chili food truck, because chili wouldn't let her down. "I'm not getting any food that tries to hit me in the face, don't care how much you love waffles. Sorry Dyls."

"Oh yes!" The more she thinks about it, the more Erin warms to the idea. "Caroling. It would be so enchanting, August. I suppose we could get at least some of them to. Or having caroling in Addington Park. And carousel rides."

Dylan's eyes turn to give an accusatory look towards Mae when those waffles come flying past, as if her words about what they'd do when they got tired of this delicious, marvelous perfection of food has made them start rioting. "Uhhhhmmmm, yes." He agrees whole heartedly with that thought. "Not hungry." Rumble goes his stomach, but he's not paying any attention to that. On he goes with her, giving a side long glance towards the cabins, and then? He gives a harder tug, staring at her. "No. Speakers." He repeats pointedly about the fact that creepy music? Has no source. Up a hand lifts, a single finger not joint pointing at his ear, but stucking into it, which is probably why he doesn't have a damn clue what new horror is coming to town.

Viktor just mouths the word 'Really?' at Love the second the word 'Susan' hits his ears.

Suzie just looks at Love with all the understanding in the world, despite the brief flash of disdain at the use of her actual name. "Yeah. She does that sometimes." Scooping up the offered mug, Vik takes a sip while pondering the long-reaching level of responsibility he's just been given by the mere utterance of 'Hold down the fort.'

Well, that and he watches Love's ass as she leaves. A fact Suzie is about to comment upon with open mouth before Viktor's passing over a freshly-loaded and pressurized rifle into her hands. "You heard the lady, lady. Shoot anyone who gets sassy and don't raid the till. You're second in command now."

Worryingly, this is Viktor when he hasn't noticed anything amiss.

Jason gets up to his second knuckle.

"Oh would you look at that, August. The handmade marbles are on sale! They would go so great in that planting pot on my back porch. You should get some for your shop, to put in a vase or something for decoration. Oh, were you going to come and see my backyard sometime and give me some pointers? Probably ideas for spring. I would love to decorate it with flowers that will come back every year. I'm still learning gardening, but sometimes it's difficult to tell the plants from the weeds. I'd like a small vegetable garden also." Erin has a whoooole run-on of words, one after the other, just chattering on, totally unlike her.

All hell breaks loose and it's about then that Mae realizes that Dylan is saying the music isn't coming from the speakers. She opens her mouth to comment, but then there is a splash and a thud and apparently a pug-apocalypse happening in the waffle truck. "I uh, don't think we're in a Christmas Wonderland anymore.." Mae says in a spooky poltergeist voice. She isn't terribly interested in food anymore, her eyes shifting from the creepy kids to the waffle truck. All business, she turns her gaze back to Dylan. "So we're getting Thai then, right?"

"Jokey?" Dylan squeaks out as his eyes shift to stare at something beneath the food bowl truck, and now? He's come to a full and complete halt. "Well. Fuck." He finally concludes with a heaving sigh towards Mae, and the concern is so clearly written on his face. He drops down to a crouch to pluck up a waffle, and with a toss he sends it scattering under the food truck. "Good list!" Cause surely Scary Santa will respond to bribes and not being on the naughty list. Back up he comes, his fingers twining around Mae's hand to try and encourage her back a few steps. "Yes. Thai."

"Weeds are just things you don't want in the garden," August says, staring at the soup truck. "Erin, I'm gonna need you to snap out of whatever's going on with you, real fast."

"That does NOT mean shoot Molly Jones!" Viktor barks as a follow-up, eyes instantly darting down to the sight of Suzie raising the air rifle in a direction that is most certainly not the tin targets at the back of his booth, reaching out to block the muzzle from going anywhere higher than somewhere around the other girl's kneecap.

"...Yet." He adds through gritted teeth.

When the things are pointed out to her, Erin can't help but to take note of it. Of course the music and night were lovely, except for the dream. If indeed it was a dream. Hearing the yell, she looks that way, watching him fighting to not be dragged under. "Are those turkey legs, August? Seriously?" Dark eyes narrow as she just seems to take everything in for a moment until she can absolutely catch sight of a threat.

"Not Jokey," Dylan murmurs as an aside to Mae, a look of utter, complete disappointment crossing upon his features. His chin tucks down to focus on the turkey leg wielding gnashy gnome who Dylan? Is convinced will become his new very best friend. "Ho ho," As if he's Santa Claus, trying to paint a distracting image into that little gnomey mind, "Not. Naughty." Does his gaze flicker towards Mae for some reason, looking at her nose? Yeah, it does. Don't ask, don't tell!

August stills, turns to look around them. "You hear that?" he says under his breath. Great. Violent holiday sprites, and wolves. This is what he gets for visiting the Winter Wonderland. He is so not accepting anymore tree contracts for this place. "Keep an eye out, I don't think these assholes are all we're dealing with." He rubs his fingers together, gives Erin something a little extra for whatever she does next.

"The fuck.." Mae can't really believe her eyes, so she stares a bit. Then she grabs whatever she can from the shelf of the chili truck. Plastic spoons, those paper like wafer crackers, salt shakers and a ladle and hurls them toward the Cranky looking sinister toddler? What else could it be. However it is attacking a child, sort of, because said child is holding an air rifle and looks like she could take a man twice her weight. Still, maybe if the thing is distracted...

Dylan's behavior gets him a look, a narrowed eye look. What the heck is he doing? Ho Ho what? Then he says he's not naughty, she manages not to laugh at that, but just barely.

Well, that's everything going to hell in a very small hand-basket. Does Viktor have any idea what the fuck is going on? No. Does he need to? Also no. Still with Suzie's rifle barrel gripped firmly in his hand, he directs the small girl's aim towards one of the masses yanking Jason beneath the adjacent booth, yelling out a quick blast of "Fire!"

Sure. Dylan's trying to talk to them. Dylan's probably the smartest one here. Viktor? Viktor unfortunately has to deal with instinct. Instinct that has him glancing towards the mulled wine tent, hand running to the hem of his jacket to pull it up and clear of the comptac holster at his waist.

"Bad noise." Is said far too quietly for the young girl to hear.

Dark eyes flare as the mulled wine tent is now on fire. "Umm." Erin gently nudges August's shoulder, leaning in. "I set the tent on fire." So there was Bobbin and there was a fire. "Can you put it out? I can try and get the.. thing." There's a moment of uncertainty and she draws her lower lip between her teeth on one side, tilting her head trying hard to keep the guilty look from showing.

Children Scream, toys on fire, we're walking in a Winter Wonder Land! "Expecting delays," Dylan points out to Mae as an explosion takes place somewhere over his shoulder. So much for getting to move in anytime soon. But then? He's far too distracted with gnashy-goblin, offering the turkey leg wielding maniac a big, lopsided smile. "Christmas gnome," He points out to the little bugger, a hand reaching out to waggle a finger at him as he crouches down. And that gnome? Seems to just be staring, dazed and confused at whatever it is Dylan has done. He tugs out a sketchpad, ripping off a piece of paper. A few quick folds, and what had been a sketch of a creepy Santa he'd been toying with at some point is now a paper airplane, flown over towards gnashy. "Make toys." He suggests, head bobbing up and down. "Not fighting."

A runty gnome comes at her with a knife and manages to tag her. "Gah!" She stumbles back into Dylan who is.. "Expecting.." Mae is confused, until the explosion and then she ducks her head, looking around for cover. "Delays, yeah.. I see that now." She reaches out to take Dylan to cover with her, but he's busy making friends with a .. gnome? Still looks like a toddler. She props her hands on her hips and stares at the gnome. She looks like she wants to punt the gnome, but she just watches for the moment, because as soon as it looks like it's dangerous again, it's getting punted. The children, meanwhile, seem to be screaming while they're attacking Christmas, and some of them are using rifles. This can't be safe.

August winces at a slash to the right arm of his jacket. Christ, he's going to have to mend the fucking thing again. Erin's fireball, unfortunately, doesn't incinerate the fast little thing, and instead blows up the mulled wine cart. He sighs, reaches out to douse the flames as best he can, half-closing his eyes. He's trying to keep one ear open for those wolves he heard earlier, because the last thing he wants is for someone to lose an arm.

Let's phrase this for what it is. Suze just executed a gnome.

Sure, she had help from Viktor and his aiming for her, but nobody best dare state that that girl is not a stone cold killer.

Hell, she's got the next pellet in before Vik's even had time to pull her aim a little closer to center mass on the next one. "Nail this, you get the moose. I will steal you a moose."

The Bobbin was what Erin was aiming for, it kept attacking August and when he gets hurt again she winces, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He could have been fighting had he not had to put out her fire. "Are you hurt bad?" She tries to get a look at his arm or wherever else he had been hit.

Dylan gives a big thumbs up to Gnashy once he says he'll go make good on what he's really supposed to be doing, and then those big blue eyes turn on Mae. "He's sweet," He murmurs, even as she starts to tug, and that dopey, adoring smile goes even broader as he watches her. "Happy kids," Is his thought about what that little gnome is going to manage to do, helping out Santa like that. And then, Dylan seems to realize everything is going to hell in a handbasket. "Huh." It's a momentary flash of true, mad anger that creases the artists features when that little Runty bastard stabs at Mae again, and out he reaches to snap up the turkey bones left by his new best friend. With a whistle, he waggles it at the wolf, and then he tosses it right at that Runty Gnome Bastard. "HEY. Catch!"

Mae is trying to retreat with Dylan and his new friend but, there is a tiny gnome toddler person chasing her with a knife. She gets sliced near her calf, aiming a glare at Dylan when he says sweet. These things do not seem sweet. She watches Dylan toss a turkey bone, and if that distracts the runty little bastard she's gonna attempt to clobber him on the head with a fist. These are new leggings, and they're now ruined.

August curses, dodging Bobbin and the damned wolf, but not nearly fast enough for the former. These are just denim jeans, though. They're not The Jacket. He grunts, blood staining the fabric. "It's fine. Nothing that I can't bandage." Or maybe stitch. Suzie's injury makes him suck in a breath, and he shakes his head. "Should heal her, maybe," he says. Once they've dealt with this mess, he means.

He flexes his fingers, gives the wolf a little help with the gnome. He'd rather not hurt an animal that was probably just drawn by all the ruckus if he doesn't have to.

Oh. Suzie.

The candle that burst the brightest, so on, so forth.

Viktor finds himself suddenly holding an air-rifle by the barrel, a seven-year-old's grip no longer on the stock and trigger.

He does not look best pleased.

This time of year there's always the delightful smells of cinnamon and apples, cocoa and pine along with the marshmallows melting over the cocoa and on sticks over the fire. The chesnuts over the open flames just added to it. Then, in Gray Harbor there was always the charred aroma of melted mulled wine tents and the acrid smell of burnt wolf hair. All together, a pretty wild stench was rising up from it combined and Erin lifts a wrist to her nose. "Oh God, it's awful.."

Dylan? After that bone is tossed, he steps behind Mae. Because, if we are being honest here? Out of the two of them, the dancer clearly looks like she knows how to kick ass far more than he does. His face makes a big, huge pain stricken expression as he watches... well, just about everything get pumped with pellets, ripped to shreds, beaten, or set on fire. His fingers lift to curl in against the coat on Mae's back, a slow gulp given as he casts a glance over towards Viktor and then to Suze. "Is she..." Not that he needs to, or can, finish that thought.

At the end of everything, Mae is on her ass. How did she get there? There is a lot of bone tossing, fireball throwing and just general carnage. Somewhere in there, she managed to smack the gnome that has sliced up her new leggings and provided her with a head wound. Head wounds bleed pretty nastily by the way, so she's wiping at it with the back of her hand. She took a step back, trips, and almost takes Dylan down with her. Thankfully he helps her up so he can hide behind her. They watch the carnage together, mouth open in shock.

August flinches at Erin sets the wolf on fire and it goes running. He finds something in the Runty Gnome to snap, and really, most of them go all in on that little twit, so who knows if what August did was useful. He doesn't care that much, since it seems to be over.

He stares at Suzie, though, feeling a little dazed.

Sliding over the counter-top of the target booth, Viktor's got the rifle up, stock firm against his shoulder, and draws a target picture on three of the weird little gnome bastards without word. He's not even confirming hits, loading up a new pellet from the small stash held in his palm with, if you took a moment to consider it, a horrifying level of precision.

It's only the last hit he watches, the one that went a little wide and sent the steel ball-capped dart into a shoulder instead of center-mass, following the shape of the body down to the ground with the front sight and holding it over the target until Dylan's voice slowly filters in with regards to Suzy.

He doesn't lower the rifle. At all.

"Suze! You steal enough of your mom's mini-mallows or do I need to get the suture kit?"

Once everyone seems, well, at least breathing, Dylan casts a look around. "One sec." He declares to Mae, before he stomps over towards the air rifle station. Over he leans, rummaging through until he finds a nice, big, stuffed owl with a Santa Hat on. It's probably one of those damn things if you squeeze it, it says, 'Who Who Who, Merry Christmas!' He looks to Viktor, "Cool?" Offering up that big, cheesy smile, and then off he heads back to Mae, holding it out for her. "Thai food." He declares, any desire he had to see the cabin in person all vanquished for the moment. "See later." Around her waist an arm wraps to give her a squeeze, ready and willing to follow wherever she decides she wants to eat.

Suzie gets up, and August relaxes noticeably. Of course, his injuries don't seem to be cosmetic. He looks at the arm of his jacket, sighs. Well, he can deal with that tonight. He checks over Erin. "You okay?" It's not an entirely necessary question, he can sense that she's not hurt, but he asks anyways.

He stares down at the blood, shakes his head. "Guess we should warn a few people about this place," he says to no one in particular.

After another glance around, Erin turns to August. "Can I buy you an egg nog?" Pushing her hair back from her face on one side, she just looks a little bemused. "You know, if I ever say we should go caroling with Byron and Alexander again, instead of wolves and gnomes, it'll probably be lightning that hits us." There's a reassuring smile and she shrugs, hands outwards as she does. "I'm not hurt. Thank you for asking. How about you?" She tries to gauge from where she is if anyone else is.

Mae gets to her feet, takes the stuffed animal and nods. "Thai food." She agrees, sliding an arm around Dylan's waist. "How about we get delivery though?" She asks, brushing the back of her hand over the cut on her forehead. "I want a shower and to get out of these clothes." She spies poor Jason and points to him as she leads Dylan or Dylan leads her back toward her motorcycle. "Hopefully someone yanks him out of there, poor guy." She does pull Dylan to a stop and signs that she's interested in a cabin. "I'm pretty sure I could take one of those toddlers if they came back." She mutters, shrugging a shoulder. She sneaks a look back at the others, speaking the next words quietly. "Is Christmas going to be more of this kind of crap?"

Viktor finally drops the rifle to his side, seemingly satisfied when the shape he'd kept his eye on becomes the last of the gnomes to skitter away into the night. Without even looking in her direction, Viktor crouches down to offer Suze the most surreptitious of fist-bumps.

And steal a mini-mallow that fell out of her coat, shoving it into his mouth right as SOMEONE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED STEALS AN OWL FROM HIS PRECIOUS BOOTH. "Mrph. Go nuts. Suze might shoot you."

She'd have to get the rifle back first, though. And with how set Vik is on tidying up the booth once more? That's not likely to happen. For a while. Woe-betide anyone who lingers too long.

In perfect unison, Viktor and Suze both look up to the nearest speaker.

"Oh fuck off!"
"Oh fuck off!"