exsiliumlogs | [OPEN] BABES IN TOYLAND

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[OPEN] BABES IN TOYLAND

Date & Time: December 20th, 2013
Location: New York City!!!
Characters: HOLIDAY SHOPPERS. Please note that with mod approval, any character is allowed to have joined the mob in front of the transporter, regardless of whether they responded to the network post advertising this event.
Summary: In a bid to conserve energy, over a dozen transports do all of their Christmas shopping at once. I hope you brought money!
Warnings: None for now!

All the transports are dropped into New York at 6:00, simultaneously but scattered. Coding the drop points for this mission was hell.

It turns out that the weather is actually fairly mild on this date; there is snow neither in the air nor in the ground. That isn't to say there's nothing of visual interest: All the lights of the city are on at this hour.

The Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree was lit back on December 4th.

Shop until you drop, Transports.

Threaded | Flat

6:05 - closed to Stephanie Brown

Here Kanaya is in the past; as common in Exsilium, she's holographically disguised as a hornless, fangless, non-glowing girl, with winter wear. A street vendor's scarf catches her eye first; she pulls out her wallet and approaches him. An argument breaks out, however. Apparently her yen are not the dollars specified on the sign of price.

7:30

The time has come to shop and Kanaya is right in the thick of it. She has a list which she sometimes pulls out her tablet to check. For the most part her navigation of the aisle's is mechanical, her gifts having been decided far in advance.

Sometimes, however, she stops and stares for several minutes at a time before making her selection, most notably in winterwear.

10:30

She's done it. She has shopped and now she has dropped. Here she is beside her bounty with an almost post-coital expression, letting snow accumulate in her hair with holographically inexplicable holes where her horns are and not even caring. A dozen boxes of various sizes (though only two are larger than a sheet of paper) lie on the concrete besides her along with half again as many bags.

[Steph has four things to do: buy Christmas presents, buy herself an outfit for the Borgia party, buy cookie supplies, and get her tattoo finished. The first two things are prioritized, so she spends most of her time in malls or in the stores lining the streets, slowly gaining more and more shopping bags.

The dress for herself ends up coming from the Ted Baker store on Fifth Avenue, after she spends way too much time trying on different dresses. Most of the presents come from LUSH, a few from Best Buy, and the rest from clothing or department stores. Later in the evening she picks up all the ingredients for the cookie baking at the end of the month, even if grocery shopping isn't half as fun as everything else.

It's more fun than sitting in a tattoo parlour, getting the bats on the nape of her neck finshed, although the end product of that is more than worth the pain.

Even later in the evening, she finds a spot near the tree, having acquired a gingerbread coffee with whipped cream on top, and just watches the crowd. Saul is with her for most of that part, but occasionally one of them wanders off to investigate something, leaving the other alone. Sometimes it's nice to feel like she's disppearing into the crowd, after the stress of the last few months.

At least the purple in the lower half of her hair makes her easy to spot in a crowd for people who know what they're looking for, and it seems like she's permanently attached to a cup of coffee.

She just misses Starbucks, okay?]

[Peter Parker isn't here because it's Christmas. That is a big part of it, but there's a nagging part of his brain that knows that Christmas isn't really Christmas without Aunt May and Gwen pushing him around and telling him his hair looks bad or wondering how he manages to convince them to let him wear oversized T-shirts because he's convinced he'll grow into them. That's the bittersweet part of ending up here, because as much as he wants to take a subway train down to Forest Hills ... the reality of it is that he'll lose all of his day looking for someone who doesn't exist. (It's too long of a trip, and Forest Hills, home it may be, isn't exactly that exciting to look at.)

The other downside to New York (on a list of downsides) is the lack of being able to swing around. Peter figures he could get away with it, but he knows the dangers of doing so. He can't go around talking about how this transport business is dangerous and just contradict himself. So he left the webs and the Spider-Get Up at home, knowing that he can't tempt himself. He has really terrible impulse control sometimes. Really terrible.

No Swinging Allowed leaves Peter just walking. He avoids Time Square at first (because he knows New York, and he knows he'll just regret it, no amount of homesickness can make him want to wander in there), and just walks around midtown, stopping by the Christmas tree, hitting a Starbucks and drinking a peppermint mocha, and generally circling and doing the same rounds repeatedly. He even wanders down inside of Rockefeller toward the subway entrances at one point, but lacking a Metro card (or desire to waste money on one) he doesn't go inside. He just listens to the sound of the trains.

Either way, he stops and immerses himself ... a lot. It's unlike Peter to play tourist, but he's allowed to, or so he tells himself. This is home. This is home, and really, that's what matters.]

[a; cut bitches, get riches]

[The first order of business is money. This is not a particularly challenging business. Christopher may not have cash, but he has two pistolswords and an understanding of criminal underworlds. Half an hour and seventeen dead mafiosi later, you may notice Christopher walking out of a well-known mob HQ with dozens of credit cards in his pockets and blood on his weapons.

Before you speak to him, give him just a second to lick some blood off his blades. Yes, he is doing this right in the middle of a busy New York street. He'd worry about a passerby noticing what he's doing and freaking out or calling the cops, but he has been to New York before, and he knows: New Yorkers don't even care.]

[b; they sentenced me to twenty years of boredom]

[After checking to see if the Alveare is around (silly, when things like Mist Wall are absent, but he could always hope that Nebula had been crushed in the last eighty years and the Martillos were still running) Christopher starts his shopping spree.

A large city, with the promise that they'll be gone by the end of the day? This is how Christopher likes to approach a city.

So he shops with a different stolen credit card at each store, tossing it in the trash on his way out. The number of gifts he starts piling up, and at a certain point, he feels the need to go all GTA and steal a car just so he can have a place to put his purchases. If you come across him stealing a car, you probably can't deter him. But hey, he'll totally offer you a ride!]

Edited 2013-12-25 15:00 (UTC)

[Heath loves being back in modern day where everything makes sense to him. He's beaming as he wanders around the city, occasionally vanishing into a store to pick up a present to add to the many bags he's already carrying.

He still hasn't got the most important present yet, something for Abbey. He doesn't know WHAT to get for her, only that it has to be PERFECT. And so, at some point in the day, he's wandering around Macy's looking as lost and confused as you would expect a teenage boy trying to shop for a teenage girl would look.

Help a guy out?]

[Johnny isn't much for Christmas, but he can't resist going to his home town only the year after he left it. He's just asking to get homesick. He had come to be tour guide for everyone, but they ended up scattered. In a city this big, finding his fellow Transports will be tough, but he'll be looking out for you. Otherwise, you might spot him in some stores or window shopping, looking over what seems to be high end men's winter clothes and thinking.

You may also find him sitting on a bench somewhere with a coffee in one hand and his spoils in a bad in the other, watching the world go by. Yeah, maybe he gets a little homesick sometimes. This is why he was avoiding coming to this time while making all of his supply runs.]

A
[ Not having much to spend is part of what speeds things along, and what he does have won’t go far in New York City. He’s done with that part in less than an hour.

And really that’s okay. As much as he’d wanted to do this, as much as he wants to make Christmas as nice as he can for the people who’ve made this place sometimes almost okay for him this trip is about something else too. He hasn’t been away from Exsilium in what feels like years. He hasn’t seen skyscrapers, touched gravel, felt real wind in his hair in forever.

Not being seen is part of the deal of being here. But it’s dark now, which makes it even easier to slip the mask out from his pocket and slip it on behind his ears. The rest of his costume is on under his clothes and that makes it even easier, stowing the civvies like old castoffs behind a dumpster. It feels good.

He’ll only take an hour, darting over some of the lower rooftops and before he scales one of the bigger skyscrapers, keeping his body angled into the shadows before he leaps off and swings down straight into the cold wind. Everything’s better from up here. The lights, the Rockefellar tree, even the noise of the cars and the faint carols drifting up from below.

It’s not quite home, but for now it’s close enough. ]

B
[ Or he’s used his last few dollars to pay his way onto an ice rink outside of a mall. The rented skates are new and clean and his bags are outside with his name stapled to the top (all wrapped together and shoved inside a nondescript paper sack). Some kids younger than he is are gathering around to watch while he practices his turns like they’re really great instead of just okay, so he takes a few more minutes to show them how to move just so like he’s really been doing it for years instead of just a few weeks. Then he’s breaking off to go darting through the cluster of adults, fast enough to be daring but not quite enough to knock anybody off their feet. It’s fun. ]

C
[ Already he’s dragging his feet a little on the way back, so much so he’s stalled in front of a coffee shop, eying up the sign advertising one of the sugary holiday drinks Alfred never lets him have back home. It’s one of those things that would make him feel just a little rebellious, and thinking about rebelling against Alfred at Christmas time makes his heart hurt, but it’s been almost a year after all. He’s a teenager now. Maybe Alfred would even let him have it if he asked nicely.

But still he’s waiting, hands tucked in his pockets while he studies the sign like it holds all the answers he’s looking for. ]

Edited 2013-12-26 04:57 (UTC)

I. ( closed to dahlia )
[ Wayne, for all his traveling, has never actually been as far North as New York. Christmas might have just passed him by without a thought -- the timing was all wrong for him, after all, and it wasn't as if the kids were here -- but when he heard about this, there was no way he wanted to let the opportunity pass. He and Dahlia may never see the place, otherwise. He might have stuff to pick up, too, but that comes second to just enjoying a day out with his wife. Whether that involves simply marveling at the lights and sights of a city far bigger than what they're used to, finding a place to be alone together, or celebrating their own kind of Christmas with a couple of easy cons now that they're surrounded by marks. ]

So -- [ He's got a hand on her arm, looking from her to their environment and back. ] Where should we start?

II. ( ota )
[ Shopping. Well, he does have a list, even if it's not long or directed toward "friends and family" in particular; Wayne's been waiting for a good chance to pick up the things he said he would (or would try to) when he addressed the general public not that long ago. Fabric. Jewels (or jewelry -- he wouldn't buy it but in such a busy, crowded city there would be no difficulty lifting something). Cigarettes or cigars. Snacks. A chess board. Then, some warmer clothes for himself and Dahlia and maybe something nice for the friends ("friends") he has made, but that's something he actually has to think about.

He's not a very big guy, though, and it's easy to get jostled around among the crowds even for someone used to fighting for a place or a share; he grabs what he can and shrinks back when he can afford to, but it's not long before he collapses a little weightlessly against a bench clutching a bag of goods protectively to his chest. He thinks -- or maybe even mutters aloud -- "Buffers," with some exasperation. May he never have to shop amongst them again. ]

Threaded | Flat

Kanaya...

steph | open

Peter | OPEN