TDM 2 ⬡ The Little Match Girl

[liburuzaina]

	Casting Call The Little Match Girl Hans Christian Andersen »» "A picture of misery, poor little girl!" Name: The Little Match Girl Casting Call: Characters with a Lawful, True, or Chaotic Neutral Alignment Physical Notes: Young - 15 years old or younger. Small and slight. Malnourished. Dressed in rags, and not wearing any shoes, gloves, or hat to ward against the cold. Personality Notes: Passive to the extent of not being forceful or insistent, but still very determined. Compulsions: To not go home until she's sold all her matches. To periodically light a match in an attempt to keep warm, and to hallucinate from hypothermia as a result. «« »» "Grandmother had never been so grand and beautiful." Name: The Grandmother/Angel Casting Call: Characters with a Lawful, Neutral, or Chaotic Good Alignment Physical Notes: Old, with a very kind face. Radiant and loving. Possessing of any desired "Christmas Angel" features while taking The Little Match Girl to Heaven. Personality Notes: Kind and loving. The only one to show compassion to the little girl, both in life and as she's dying. Compulsions: To look after her granddaughter one last time, and carry her off to heaven in comfort and warmth as she passes away. «« »» "No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen." Name: Passers-by Casting Call: Characters with a Lawful, Neutral, or Chaotic Evil Alignment Physical Notes: Varied - Could be any age, appearance, or social standing. Living, humanoid. Personality Notes: Predominantly indifferent to the plights of others, more focused on themselves. Will typically only offer pity and condolences when it's too late. Compulsions: To not buy matches from the girl, and to ignore her plight. To gossip amongst themselves the morning after she's passed away, and once her corpse is found. «« code @ efryndiel The Streets ⬡ Common Cast All characters are likely to originate in The Streets. ⬡ Literary Description "It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Evening came on, the last evening of the year. In the cold and gloom a poor little girl, bareheaded and barefoot, was walking through the streets." ⬡ For Your Exploration The Streets are an endless row of street and sidewalk, hedged on either side by tall buildings, much like one might find in a large city - London, New York, Chicago, or the like. It's bitter cold out, and snow has already fallen several inches, and shows no sign of stopping. It's dusk, though the light is quickly fading, and people are slowly but surely going in for the night. The buildings are not residential - they're all little shops and restaurants, or the entrances to more private businesses. The time and place are ambiguous. The city could be a modern one, a medieval one, a Victorian one, but it will be simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar to the first character to manifest in the space (i.e. the starter-writer). Only the Grandmother/Angel will have powers, and those powers will be limited to what might be expected of a stereotypical Christmas Angel - Flight by way of large, feathery wings, an ambient glow, and the generation of warmth and good feelings. The Corner ⬡ Common Cast All characters are likely to originate in The Corner. ⬡ Literary Description "In a corner formed by two buildings, one of which projected farther out into the street than the other, she sat down and drew up her little feet under her." ⬡ For Your Exploration Eventually, once night has fallen, the Little Match Girl will find The Corner. It's tucked in and out of the way of the main sidewalk, and the brick walls block the wind, to an extent. Huddling here will make her less noticeable to Passers-By, but it will provide some small respite from the cold while she tries to warm herself by striking one match at a time. The cold will bring her hallucinations of pleasant things, brought on by the striking of a new match, and taken away when it putters out. Eventually, her kind Grandmother will appear to her, and take her away as she succumbs to the cold. In the morning, Passers-by will finally find themselves caring about her, but only enough to gossip about her hardships, and about how she tried warming herself with simple matches, once they see her corpse. Like the Streets, the time and place are ambiguous. The city could be a modern one, a medieval one, a Victorian one, but it will be simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar to the first character to manifest in the space (i.e. the starter-writer). Only the Grandmother/Angel will have powers, and those powers will be limited to what might be expected of a stereotypical Christmas Angel - Flight by way of large, feathery wings, an ambient glow, and the generation of warmth and good feelings. ⬡ Hallucinations The Little Match Girl's hallucinations will come and go as she strikes matches on the wall. They'll all be pleasant for her, and will lessen her pain while they last. They may contain - but are not limited to - her believing there's a warm stove or fireplace nearby to warm herself, a great Christmas or New Year's feast to eat, or a kind and loving family to spend the holidays with. The Tree ⬡ Merry Christmas? Mysteriously, on what would be the 24th of December, for anyone capable of keeping track of the passage of days, a massive Christmas Tree will appear on the first floor of the Library, immediately visible to anyone walking in the Paseo entrance. It seems to warp the space around it - appearing to be several stories tall all on its own, and yet not reaching the ceiling. For characters already milling about the first floor, the tree will appear when they look away from the space - or even when they simply blink. As this setting is part of the Library itself, characters will have full access to all their powers. ⬡ Presents? The base of the tree will be surrounded with piles and piles of gifts. For anyone looking closely enough, these gifts will have clearly marked tags - and you might even find one for you in the pile! Contained in these gifts is an additional item from home, for everyone in the Library. As characters are originally only brought in with the things on their person, this gift can be anything else they could possibly want from their home world. If there is nothing else they would want from home, it will contain a generic Christmas Gift - a soft and practical sweater in their favorite color, a stuffed toy, a pillow or blanket, slippers, warm and fuzzy socks, etc. The only restriction on gifts is that it cannot be a food item (it's not in the cafe, after all!) and any weapons brought from home will come in the form of a note written in a card, thanking the character for their contribution to the gallery their weapon will then be found in. Characters will be unable to open gifts that do not have their name written on the tag. The Tree and all unopened gifts will disappear as easily as they appeared when the clock would strike midnight on January 1st. navigation • premise • reserves • faq

Comments

Questions

[liburuzaina]

zhongli | genshin impact | grandmother

[pragmatism]

[ spoilers opt-out here! ]

the streets

[ The first thing he notices is that it's cold. This is unusual, other than the fact that he isn't where he used to be a moment ago. It's quite difficult for him to feel the effects of the weather for various reasons, and he would be led to believe that this is a severe chill if not for the fact that the snow falls reasonably instead of in a thick blizzard. And there are people about - while they are heading into the buildings at the sides, they don't seem to be in immediate mortal danger from frostbite.

How strange.

Logically, he must investigate; walking down the streets in search of any useful information. The people here don't quite look at him, and the names on the plaques are scribbled out.... curiouser and curiouser...

... then his gaze alights on someone who looks just the slightest bit out of place. That is, you, a fellow outlander. The Story has given him an elderly look and an aura of warmth, smoothening the intimidation that might come from his usual appearance. ]

Excuse me, could you spare some time?

[ A lot of NPCs have ignored him but you wouldn't, would you? ]


the tree

[ After the Story concludes, Zhongli is spit out right at the entrance of the Library itself. Walking in, the Christmas tree and its immediately obvious reality-bending abilities catch his attention. It's something to think about and get his mind away from all that had just happened - another new realm, with new unspoken rules. The lack of explanation gets at him, and so he walks to the foot of the giant tree. There are many wrapped boxes scattered about, each with a person's name written on it. Not that he recognizes any of said names - they seem to be very varied, and he will start to neaten the pile on a whim.

Which means he will begin to stack them in neat rows with the tags facing outwards. Fancy looking for yours? Well, Zhongli has made it easy for any passersby to check the tags at a glance. What exactly is he searching for? ]

the tree

[bowfaire]

(The presents are all stacked in nice little rows and with so many different sizes and shapes. It makes him wonder what some people here are getting. And who are they getting them from exactly? Santa isn't real.)

Do you usually clean up after others?

(This is... a lot of presents to sort through, Zhongli! )

tree

[purport]

[ Sandalphon observes this man as he arranges boxes in a neat row curiously, arms folded across his chest as he puzzles over the purpose of this behavior. In this time with the Grandcypher's crew, he has borne witness to the rituals of Christmas and among these is the arrangement of gifts for aesthetic value.

As much he has concluded, having watched members of the crew fuss over their placement around the tree rather than before it. Now that he has seen the alternative, he must admit he does prefer the traditional method.

Though at first he doesn't intend to approach, sharp eyes recognize his own name on sight. So, as Zhongli picks up this small box, Sandalphon plucks it from his fingers. Did he just suddenly appear behind him? Perhaps. ]

You've a strange approach to looking for your present.

the streets

[lifeless]

[Manwol couldn't ignore him even if she tried -- especially since he's the first person this evening to have called out to her. Her face doesn't reflect any hope -- or even surprise, instead she looks perfectly wary, one bare foot sliding back through the snow as if entertaining the idea of escape.

But the matches clutched in her hands means she cannot return without trying, so she ventures a curt answer.]

Time is money. Buy a match first, then I'll consider it.

[She's too cold to think of anything but these matches -- but if Zhongli comes closer, then she'll stiffen in surprise. He looks -- very familiar, but that's impossible. She's probably loopy from having eaten nothing today???]

Somnus | Final Fantasy XV

[luciing]

The Little Match Girl: The Grandmotherfather

[ Winter, summer, cold, hot. When has he last felt the chill of snow or the soft warmth of fire (fire, not an inferno) with his own flesh?  His memory of such things is as ghostlike as the swirl of smoke that wafts up from the matches, as meager as a prayer, into the cold night sky.  Here in this chapter, his physical sensations are no different, for it seems he's retained the role of a spirit... just like he is upon his own Star.

The Story has seen to outfit him in something not unlike what he would have casually worn while alive: a white tunic, a draped toga, a chlamys. Somnus remains at a respectable distance as he watches the one who takes the role of the "Little Match Girl". To most, his expression may seem impassive. Yet occasionally, the faint light of the matches as they are struck alight or the tremulous flicker of oil streetlamps catch in the deep, somber blue of his eyes.

There is little work for him here besides heralding the end of this tale. As is his role, he will hold vigil to their passing. Then, he will usher them-- to peace, to death, away from the uncaring and dismissive world, at last to the end of this story, and fulfilling both of their roles, thus bringing this tale to an end. ]

Christmas Tree feat. 2spooky Ghost

[ Amber fairy lights, tinsel, and the scent of pine and cider do not reach what cannot be touched.

Anyone might recognize him as a phantom, partially translucent, dimly alight with an ethereal, pale blue glow, as he stalks about the library. With soundless steps and a silent, stoic demeanor, his cloak and robes sweep behind him as he makes his way about the library. Find him gazing at the tree (for this hadn't been a tradition in his time) or browsing the myriad of books the Library has to offer.

Whether or not he's aimless or purposeful, he appears to at least show some sort of idle curiosity of this realm, if anyone can discern as much past his severe, grim mein. ]

Christmas Tree Presents

[ The gifts below the boughs of the great pine tree are colorful and dazzling in their plastic, silver sparkles so much as to be rancorous. He doesn't expect one of these gifts to be his, but as he takes a step away from the display, his phantom form passes over a small box wrapped in satin-black paper and done up with a neat, royal blue bow. His name, etched in gold plainly for all of those who are curious to see, signals that this gift is his: Somnus Lucis Caelum.

Inside is a ring.

His austere expression doesn't so much as ripple, but what should have been an abrupt closing of the box's cover remains delayed. A moment passes, and only then does he softly snaps of the lid shut. His eyes lift, locking with yours. They narrow, if ever so slightly. ]

Wildcard
[ HMU! I'm here and also flexible with these prompts! Alternatively, find Somnus walking about the more spacious parts of the Library in his actually physical, not phantasmal 4m tall Lucii form! ]

The Little Match Girl

[bowfaire]

(Every story has its narrative and every character has their purpose. He isn't familiar with this tale and so he doesn't know the direction it's supposed to go in but he still follows it. The cold has long settled though and he wears misfortune when he'd rather have a coat and shoes.

Another match, another strike, another flame, and another vision. He reaches for another match and thoughtlessly strikes it. He needs to stop lighting matches and just get out of the cold before it's too late. He knows this and yet here he is, frozen in place. As he does, he manages to look beyond the flame at Somnus just long enough to notice that he sees him too (he's so used to being ignored).

A warm fire, people singing songs, howling with laughter, and making merry. Every time he lights a match, he forgets the cold, and every time, the flame dies out in his hands and he's reminded all over again. But this time, when the vision passes, he holds out the exhausted match to Somnus.

Don't just stand there he wants to say but the words are stuck. This character isn't meant to make demands and fight for their life. He really dislikes these tales. He'll hate this later but right now he's just... trying to stay warm and find some way to unload these matches.)

Urianger Augurelt | Final Fantasy XIV | Passerby

[essentialdignity]

[ Please let me know if you are adverse to spoilers from the Shadowbringers expansion! ]

Streets
[ Urianger attempted to bring forth the powers of a theoretical star to burn the kindling in what seemed to be an extinguished fire pit. Perhaps this was a poor choice of outfit, but the cold (or mayhaps something else) was interfering with his aether. Try as he might, no spark nor flame would emerge from his fingers. Even without his Star Globe, he would still be able to do this much - he would be a poor Scion otherwise.

For now, he leaves the fire pit and proceeds towards a food cart, selling roasted chestnuts and hot coffee. Urianger contents himself with a cup of hot coffee, but it still refuses to diminish the cold he seems to feel in his bones. ]

What thinks thee of this place? Does the cold strike as more biting than which seems possible, as if it runneth through thine soul?

Tree

This celebration is thus termed... Christmas. It bears many similarities to the festivities of Starlight in Eorzea.

[ And just like every Starlight, Urianger is mildly surprised to find that he has a present with his name on it under the tree. A familiar sight of a chart, plotting the relationship of the elements from his home world. It's nostalgic, in a sense. He had spent many hours learning this chart, learning the varied relationships between substance and aether and to see it laid bare in front of him again... ]

Tis perhaps the season to be mindful of one's blessings.

[ he says, mostly to himself. ]

streets!

[hoasen]

[The question of the cold only reminds her that...indeed, she is cold. Just stating the obvious.

So she shivers, laughs awkwardly, and nods.]

I have never been good with the cold, so any weather that involves snow and I am done for.

[She's exaggerating, but she still prefers warmer climates like back home.]

What you have, it must be rather soothing, no? [In the cold, that is.] How are you feeling?

streets | don't spoil me i still need to die to thancred

[killful]

[Yan Qing is surprisingly not shirtless. He's used to the cold, though. The years he lived in the mountains of the north weren't spent wrapped in blankets by the fire. Whatever plight anyone's going through doesn't tug at his heartstrings. They're not special!

So he laughs.]

Eh, methinks mine soul's seen worse. Haha! [He gives Urianger's arm a light punch, not at all intimidated by his height or manner of speech.] You're not from around here, are ya, guy?

Tree

[replicatedform]

[Yamanbagiri glances up when he overheard someone, seeing a tall person holding something. Curiosity start to dig slightly in, and he take a step towards the other... man?

Oh, pointed ears. So not a human? He keep his thoughts to himself, but he speak up to get the other's attention.]

What did you get?

[For his part, he haven't found a present with his name... yet. It's not like he's actively looking for it, simply because he never expect to get anything for himself.]

Tree, hope you don't mind her?

[inlikethebrume]

[She wasn't expecting anyone to show up from Eorzea and so had to blink and rub her eyes. Was that...possible? Was this real or is the library playing tricks?]

Starlight seems to occur no matter where one is. Feels like a small comfort, no?

Tree

[her_rose_is_red]

What's that a picture of?

[The curious voice belongs to a small girl standing on tiptoe to try to get a better look at the poster.]

jang manwol | hotel del luna | match girl...

[lifeless]

a; disable ur adblockers

[she's so hungry.

she's hungry and it makes her want to scream, but Manwol has learned enough while on the streets that the less energy she exerts, the better. Better to pour all that frustration and hatred and anger into each and every match in her hand, better to use those emotions to somehow warm her near-frozen body... Her fingers twitch as if she's considering lighting another match, and she takes one in her hand.

and turns to the nearest person, her eyes a couple shades colder than the snow surrounding her,]

You look like you have change to spare. Buy a match, and be quick about it.

[for what manwol lacks in grace, she'll make up for sheer rudeness]

b; when manwol really deserves coal but gets presents

[if anyone's currently in the cafe, then they'll spot Manwol seated at the counter -- an still wrapped present on the table which is unfortunately pushed all the way to the side to make room for the... piles and piles of food scattered all around her: champagne, caviar, scallops, steak -- all kinds of food, and all of it the horribly expensive bougie rich kind. Manwol practically funnels down a glass of particularly pretty looking drink, and then slams the glass down on the table,]

-- Disgusting. What's the point of magic if you can't conjure something that has actual taste?

[the food is 100% fine, manwol is just in a mood. she slides her fingers across the search bar and types something in, and a container of at least ten piping hot fat dumplings appears. hm... she glances down at it and then snaps her fingers in the nearest person's direction,]

Hey, you. Eat this for me.

everyone deserves presents

[bowfaire]

(He's still looking through the menu, looking for something familiar while also considering the unfamiliar. Nothing beats the taste of home when you're in a strange new land of sorts but it would be a waste to not take advantage of all of the other options available, right?

But it looks like the decision is already made for him. He raises a brow at the invitation.

... That was an invitation, right? Maybe one could interpret it as an order but he'll choose the friendlier of the two.)

Not to your taste?

(That sure is a lot of food at the table, Manwol.)

a

[luciing]

[ Another Story, the same one as before, another role in which he plays the part of the Grandmother. Or in this case, the Grandfather. He is a phantom here as much as he is in reality, and just as-is his calling upon his Star, in this Story he is to witness the death of the one central to it.

All he has to do is wait for the cold to take her. Like a clock ticking, each match she lights marks another minute towards her demise as the passerbys ignore her. The snow piles further, the cold is consuming. Now she turns to him.

....And he lifts his hand, translucent, pale, and dimly glowing with the ethereal effect this Story has given him, placing his palm over hers that had offered the match up towards him. ]

O Child.... [ The term, meant to be endearing, is odd to him; no doubt it had been placed upon his tongue by the Story. Nevertheless, he looks upon her somberly, unshaken by her rudeness, as he lowers her hand. This last match should not be offered to him. ] ...That is enough.

b!

[infreefall]

[ that's. so much food. it's a little alarming? why does one, single person need so much? and all this bougie food, too! even just imagining what that must cost could give ochako a heart attack.

and somehow, despite staring openly in disbelief, ochako isn't expecting to be ordered to eat the dumplings herself. she starts, suddenly straightening and raising her hands apologetically. ]

Sorry, sorry - I was being rude, wasn't I? [ haha. oops. ] I was just going to order something for myself, so you can keep them.

[ ...they do look pretty good, though. hm. ]

Is something wrong with the food, though?

Claude von Riegan | Fire Emblem: Three Houses | Match girl

[bowfaire]

THE STREETS

(Why is he out in the cold? His eyes dart from shop entrance to restaurant window and he considers just going inside where it's warm and dry. This is what he would usually do by the time he's reached this point! Derdriu is temperate and the winters are mild. And sure, Garreg Mach can get cold up in the mountains but it's not like he's spent frequent winters or anything up there. His cold tolerance? Not so great. He's a temperate flower. A spring blossom! A summer rose! Wrap him up and stick him some place warm, thanks.

But he can't. Every time he tries to go inside, his mind wanders back to these matches in his basket and he finds himself taking to the streets again, his feet carrying him away from the warmth.

He's always been sharp and if you asked him? He'd say that along with his dashing good looks and personable charm, his mind was one of his best assets. And right now it feels like something has worked its way in, like some intrusive nighttime thought that he can't shake off, compelling him to come back to it again and again. He has to sell these matches. Every. Single. One. Down to the very last. He can't rest until he does.

There it goes again, his feet carrying him into the snow, barefoot, hungry, cold-- )

Hey.

(He barely manages to grab onto a sleeve or touch an arm. He holds up a match and smiles-- perfectly charming, warm and inviting, even if it doesn't quite match a certain type of desperation in his eyes.)

It's getting cold and dark. So how about it? Why not have something warm and bright for the night...

THE CORNER

(He brings his hands close to his face and breathes, trying to warm his fingers. Nothing. It isn't good enough and he brings himself close. It's cold. It's so cold and he fumbles for one of the matches. He can barely feel it in his fingers and he finds himself relying on his sight more than his touch to strike it.

The flame is bright and warm and everyone is gathered in the dining hall. He raises a glass and gives some sort of speech and everyone is having such a wonderful time. It's a real splendid feast with delicious and warm food, important people, and...)

Ouch!

(The match burns down to his fingers and he drops it into the snow. With the dark comes the cold again.)

THE TREE

(Oh, sorry, were you looking for your present? Because Claude has it right now. It most definitely does not have his name on it but that doesn't stop him from picking it up, weighing it, and maybe even giving it a gentle shake.

He's comparing it to his own gift. It's small, light, and still wrapped in paper and

well

maybe he's considering... switching name tags??? It doesn't matter that he can't actually do it. He's going to try.)

WILDCARD

(Hit me. He's a nerd so catch him all over the library. Or in the cafe because something something after shelter, find food/water. Anyway, feel free to reach me over at plurk eski or PM.)

Hands off her present >:/

[inlikethebrume]

[So she wasn't actively looking for her present but it's hard to miss when she can see the tag with her name on it. In the hands of another.]

Oh! You found the gift left for me! My thanks for you finding it!

[Because not everyone is a tricky lil thief, right? Surely he was just holding it until its rightful owner came to claim it.]

ochako uraraka | my hero academia | grandmother/angel

[infreefall]

the streets.

[ it's cold.

ochako is not unused to the cold, of winters spent running the heater as sparingly as her family dared, but this past winter, she's gotten used to the sustained warmth provided at the dorms - both by the heaters and the people there with her. but all of that is gone, sacrificed to missions and wherever this place could be. while it feels familiar, none of the faces she flies past seem to be familiar, and there are no signs of any heroes (or villains, for that matter). there are only those trying to escape this impossible cold that chills her down to the very tips of her feathers.

...wait. feathers?

sure enough, it's not her quirk, but a pair of light, feathery wings keeping her aloft. the sheer surprise of it leaves ochako tumbling to the ground, but that's nothing to worry about. she merely picks herself up and steps toward one of those people she'd spotted in the air, one who doesn't belong in this story any more than she does. no matter where she looks or who she talks to, she always smiles, and her eyes always wander back to the one with the matches. ]

Has there ever been a winter this cold? It's crazy, right? Some hot chocolate would really hit the spot about now, huh?

[ and if you aren't the match girl, ochako doesn't wait for an answer. she continues: ]

I don't know if there's any chocolate nearby, but there's someone selling matches over there if you need something to warm you up. C'mon, I'll show you!

the tree.

I've never seen a tree this big in my whole life. Where'd they find one like this? How does it even fit inside?!

[ it's huge!! she turns to look at whoever's nearby - you're seeing this too, right?! ]

How did they decorate it? Can they fly? Do you think there's still a star at the top? There's always supposed to be a star at the top, right?

[ this is so many questions but she is excited, okay. ]

Maybe we can go and find out! And if they didn't put one up there, we can do it ourselves!

presents.

[ once upon a time, there were presents underneath the tree on the first floor of the library. that time has passed. now they are just floating all around the central part of the floor.

at the center, near the tree itself, is ochako. there are a few present left, including one with her name on the tag that's been set aside. but she seems to be looking through the rest, holding one and frowning as it doesn't seem to meet her standards.

(what are her standards, anyway?)

oh, well. there's a quick, fleeting glow at her fingertips before she gently tosses the gift over her shoulder, and it floats off to join the rest. ]

wildcard.

[ i'm up for anything else! ochako will be exploring the library, or maybe huddling in the cafe with that hot chocolate she was talking about - or pm me if you want to plan something different. ]

Presents

[her_rose_is_red]

Can't you find your present?

[Don't mind Ib back here, poking one of the floating presents just to see what happens.]

Roy | Suikoden V | Match Girl

[falenanthief]

► The Streets
[The location itself is unfamiliar to him, but the atmosphere and feel strike him as "familiar". His memories of life in the streets come to the front of his mind, causing him to smile bitterly.

... Except the weather was never this cold, even the mountains he hide in before never felt this cold. He should find shelter, maybe even food.

But when he try to enter a building, he find himself turning around and walking away. Or his attempts at pick pocketing ended up with his hand suddenly stop moving, and he looks up at the person he try to steal from.

Between his confusion at everything, his frustration and concern over his actions, there's the nagging thought of selling the matches he's carrying.]

Hey, wanna buy a nice, warm match on this cold day?

[What the hell? Selling matches now? It would've been faster if he just steal money and valuables.]

► Presents
[Curiosity kills the cat. But fortunately, Roy is not a cat. Just a street rat with deep seated envy. After his initial surprise at seeing the tree, Roy noticed the many, many presents and went immediately over to check.

And... yes, he's trying to open one present. He doesn't know anyone here, so there's absolutely no sense of guilt and hesitation. Well, there's a chance someone from the army might find him like this and report him to the Prince...

Oh well, he can explain it away as "trying to find a way back". As ridiculous as it sounds, when he's trying to open someone else's present.]

Geez, what's this thing made out of? It's like I'm trying to pry open steel. Or a rock.

[Eventually, he get frustrated by it and throws it over his shoulder. Aaaaand it probably hit someone, like you.]

► Wild Card
[OOC: Give me what you got! Roy's a thief and street rat, so he's likely crawling all over the place and looking for information to get back.]

presents

[killful]

[ Yan Qing catches the present before it hits him in the chest. He doesn't look very pleased... He just got here! ]

Hey, watch it, kid.

[ And he chucks the box back at Roy, fully expecting him to catch it. ]

You new?

Alphinaud Leveilleur | Final Fantasy XIV | Grandmother/Angel!

[shatteredbravery]

[Streets]

[Having once escaped to Ishgard under pain of death, Alphinaud is no stranger to the cold. But even so, this cold feels...different. It chills him down to his bones. There's naught to do about it, though, as he's sure that there are people suffering much more than he is.]

[If he spots a little match person, trying to sell their wares, he'll immediately walk up to them with a soft smile on his face. If the person is shorter than him, he'll kneel down to meet them at eye level, and offer out a hand.]

You must be cold out here. Let's find something to help warm you up.

[The Corner]

[But the cold persists, and there's only so much that can be done. Alphinaud soon finds himself wandering the streets again, trying to catch any sight of the Little Match Girl that he can.]

[Instead, however, what he finds is passersby gossiping about the poor Match Girl's plight. Had he been in any other role, perhaps he wouldn't feel compelled to interject. But here, his good nature wins over, and he moves to address the group.]

I beg your pardon. May I ask what it is that's so interesting?

[The words come out a little softer than he intends, but he's nonetheless compelled to continue.]

[Christmas]

[When he opens his gift, a sad smile settles in on his face. He's not going to seek out anybody, but he will happily talk to anyone that approaches him. He appears to be holding a strange book, absentmindedly leafing through the pages.]

I had thought this lost to time.

[inlikethebrume]

[Funny thing about this time of year; they say miracles are known to happen. But is the boy arriving to the Library considered one? No one knows. Mira is unsure how to react when she sees the boy near the tree. Is he real?]

Alphinaud?

[Don't mind the woman speaking from behind, carrying her own present in her arms.]

Swift Wind | She-Ra and the Princesses of Power | The Grandmother | Will Match Formatting

[equitariat]

I. The Corner

[ Swift Wind walked down the street, avoiding carriages and other horses. His normally vibrant orange mane was now a silvery color, though it still billowed majestically in some unseen wind, and the brightly colored plumage of his wings had faded as well. He snorted in displeasure at the cold, his breath clouding around his nose.

He couldn't shake the feeling he needed to find someone, though who he was looking for was a little unclear in his mind. Seeing someone huddled in the corner, he stepped over and gently nudged their shoulder. ]

Hey, are you ok?

[ The way he said it made it clear Swift Wind did not think they were doing ok. ]

II. Tree

[ Swift Wind loved celebrations, especially celebrations with gifts. The alicorn had been flying loops around the decorated tree, checking out all the baubles and ornaments, but eventually his focus was drawn to the real highlight of the festivities. ]

Ooohh, I wonder which one is mine!

[ He hopped over to the gift pile with a joyful trot, nudging the nearest gift with his nose to read the tag. ]

Nuh-oope not this one.

[ Swift Wind knocked the gift unceremoniously to the side, a bit more forcefully that was necessary, as he turned his attention quickly to the next one. Hopefully it wasn't anything fragile. ]

III. Wildcard

[ Whatever you want, I'm up for anything. Send me a PM if you want to discuss. ]

The Corner

[her_rose_is_red]

[The little match girl stirs, and with effort, her eyes open. And then widen dramatically. She's freezing, starving, and so very tired. But even all of that is not enough to quash the sense of wonderment. A unicorn. An actual, magical unicorn. She reaches out a trembling hand.]

Are... are you....?

[Is this real life?]

Ib | Ib | Little Match Girl

[her_rose_is_red]

The Streets

[Ib doesn't know why she has to sell these matches, just that every last one has to be sold before she can rest. She's dimly aware that something is tugging at her, forcing her to stick to the streets, but she doesn't have time to worry about that right now. It's cold, and getting colder. Just a few more matches. She can do this.

Now if only people would stop ignoring her. She's taken to tugging gently on the sleeves of passersby to get their attention.]

Please, please buy a match? Just one?

[Not the best sales pitch but she's nine and it's really cold.]


The Corner

[Kids shouldn't play with matches, but Ib is desperate. Any kind of warmth, however brief, is welcome. And each one brings with it thoughts of home, of safety, and family. She can almost believe she's in a warm living room next to a roaring fire...

But it's already fading. The cozy room melting back into the dreary and freezing street corner, people passing her in a blur. Frozen fingers fumble for another match, another few seconds of comfort.]


The Tree

[After some digging, Ib found a very small box with her name on it. She opens it eagerly and pulls out.... a single piece of lemon candy.]

Oh...

[That probably seems like a disappointing present for a young girl, and maybe it is, if the tears gathering in her eyes are any indication.]

the tree

[pursuit]

[ Deuce had been picking his way through the mess of gifts, having absently stumbled his way into the heap while trying and failing (again) to read his map of the library. Having no desire to mess anything up, he's taking awkward, overcautious steps when he hears that small, soft voice.

It prompts him to pause, glancing down to find a young girl holding a single piece of hard candy. Her eyes are watering, and he jolts, double-checking his distance from her to reassure himself that he didn't just kick a little girl by accident before he quietly ventures an inquiry. ]

Hey, are you okay?

Ichiban | Yakuza 7 | Granny

[victorytune]

Streets
[ There's a man in a rather crumpled looking suit with an unruly mess of hair sticking out from his head like a shrub. He could almost be mistaken for any old member of the crowd come to gawk, except he doesn't look away or whisper behind his hands to a neighbor. No, he gazes right at the body of the little match girl and he cries openly about her death.

He doesn't know why he came back down here to see this. Something inside of himself demanded it, not the story. As much as he would love to believe in a sweet afterlife for every neglected child, he also wants more than anything to make their lives in the real world better.

That's why he's here.

Maybe no one sees him, because angels don't reveal themselves to everyone, but he starts to say those thoughts out loud. ]

...We have to do better. We have to protect those who can't protect themselves, otherwise what's the point of any of this?

[ He's quite impassioned and inspiring on the subject, if you're in to that sort of thing. ]

Presents
[ Ichiban has taken it upon himself to deliver presents with a smile. Not only is he juggling an absurd amount of them (either in his arms or on a library cart) he also barrels up to anyone and everyone with a smile: ]

Hey, what's your name? I bet I've got something here for you.

presents;

[accostings]

[never one to turn down free stuff, he brazenly pipes,] Lan Jingyi. [although immediately can't help wondering how someone he doesn't even know could have a gift for him. and what's it for, anyhow? some celebration he knows very little about seems most believable!

actually, now that he's considering ichiban with his impressive ability to carry a multitude of things without dropping any:] Gift for what?

Chase Collins | The Covenant

[fifthofthecovenant]

The Tree

A teenaged boy with wild hair and the "this is how I roll" library t-shirt under his black knee-length coat is staring up at the tree in apparent confusion.

"How is it Christmas?" he asks of anyone and no one. "It was October last I checked. Or is this normal around here?"

He can be found prowling around the base of the tree nudging at presents with his shoe and eying the one medium-sized box with his own name on it warily. Someone come convince him to actually open it.