synthneon | · A MERRY HOLIDAY OPEN POST (CMO) ·

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· A MERRY HOLIDAY OPEN POST (CMO) ·

			🎄 A MERRY HOLIDAY OPEN POST 🎄
		

THERE WILL ALWAYS BE A TIME
WHEN THE WORLD IS FILLED WITH PEACE AND LOVE

A MERRY HOLIDAY OPEN POST
Welcome to the open post for synthneon for the Christmas Season!! Winter Memes abound!

An obvious yet, I feel I need to state it, note: NO POLITICS. The point of the season is to put your differences aside and come to love and understand your fellow man. Whatever might be going on in the real world, please, put that aside.

Now, grab a blanket, some cocoa, and lets have some holiday fun! Feel free to mix and match!

🎄 Oh, let it snow, let it snow!
❄️ Snow Fun.
How about a snow fort? A snow ball fight? Taking a stroll the winter woods? What about the first snowfall of the year? Whatever it is, it's here! The marshmallow world is upon us and it's time to bust out the boots and mittens.

❄️ Sleigh Bells Ringing.
Up for something a bit more romantic? How about a sleigh ride together? Middle of the city, out in the woods. Maybe you're shocked people still even do it!

❄️ Christmas Shopping.
Tis the season. Hit the shops and parks! Maybe you know the exact gift you want... maybe you're looking for the perfect one. Either way, keep warm! It's snowing!

🎄 Sounds that tell us it's Christmastime again!
🌟 Decorating.
Time to put up the decorations! The wreaths, the garlands, the tree! What sort of crazy shenanigans happen? What about reminiscing over family memories? Open up those boxes and let's get going!

🌟 Baking.
Well, while they are decorating, what about the baking? The cookies, the treats, the cakes, the fruitcake. That needs to be done too! Let them argue over the tree as you work in the kitchen.

🌟 Cursed Mistletoe.
Honestly, it was coming. That mistletoe someone put up while you weren't looking is there. Does it make you kiss someone? What about admit feelings you hid all year? Or, for the over achievers, maybe it makes that passion come out and well... make sure you let us know that's gonna be NSFW.

🎄 We Wish You A Merry Christmas!
🎁 Christmas Eve.
Gathering for the festivities of the actual holiday! Games, parties, drinking, yule logs, everything needed for the season. Maybe even a nice dinner can happen before Santa shows up with some presents....

🎁 Christmas Morning.
Santa came! Presents are under the tree magically! Get the pajamas, the hot drinks, blankets, and pass around the presents to be opened. Maybe some more family will stop by later in the day. For now, just enjoy time one another and see what you gifted one another!

🎁 The Day After.
Well, you made it. It was tough but another holiday season is put to bed.... now what?

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The holidays are not exactly the sort of thing he goes in for. Good memories attached to them are incredibly few and far between and date back to Jurassic times. Even the more recent types are spotty and he mostly settles for sending a present along with Chas to give to Geraldine so long as it doesn't have his name attached to it. Last thing either of them needs is an earful from Renee.

"So we're clear: if I open any of these boxes and that ruddy Elfen monstrosity is peeking out at me, I take no responsibility for setting it alight."

Though most of what Helen has littered about is old. But then it would be. He's barely touched a thing and he's already got glitter dusted all over. He shrugs out of his coat and tosses it over a high-backed chair, rolling up his sleeves and starting to pull out a large garland.

"This is for last year, isn't it? Told you I was useless at baking but you insisted."

Helen can't help but roll her eyes at his reaction. It isn't the reaction that surprises her. It's the fact that he even agreed to help her sort through all of this. She may have insisted, but, John Constantine is rarely one that actually does something that on some level he doesn't want to do. Part of her is curious as to what it is that is making him stay.

"John, please. I can assure you. None of my decorations are haunted by ghosts. Past, present, or future." She even gives a small laugh. "Although, I have known a few telepaths to make the old story seem vividly real."

Of course she means A Christmas Carol. That is something that was before her time before the cheeky bastard even asks.

"I remember the events quite fondly, actually. Who else can claim they've seen the Dabbler of Dark Arts himself have half of his face caked in sugar cookie batter?"

She can roll her eyes all she wants. He's seen those things in action. Bloody nightmares, they are. Chas made the mistake of not listening to his very sound advice about not bringing one into Jasper's old place and they all paid for it by the end of that.

Think Gremlins and the Christmas tree multiplied by a hundred or so. There's loads of things he's expected getting attacked by and that was never on the list.

"You say that now, wait until we're huddled in the study with a failing barricade. I'll save the I told you so for then," he tells her, mouth turned down as he offers a Look in her direction. The laugh, though, is good for her, he thinks. It's an odd feeling in his chest to think that he's got anything to do with that. Best not to linger on it. "Sounds like my kind of bastards, those ones."

Still, it earns a quirk of a grin as he moves to start sorting out the contents of the boxes.

"A little girl who lives in New York and that's all if I have anything more to say about it."

She will roll her eyes all she wants. He is known for theatrics after all. Though, she figures there is a minuscule of truth to his statements. Helen isn't a mind reader, but she has been around long enough to learn tells and signs to a person. She'll only ask if she feels there is a relevance to it, and well, she is a doctor. Healing is far more what she prefers than harming.

Her heels click on the wood floor as she comes to stand on the other side of the storage box. Her hands rest on the edge rather gently, head tilted enough to make her brunette curls fall over her shoulder. Then, a glance up at him with a small smile.

"Come now. We both know that it was the best gift anyone could have given her. It's extremely rare for someone of her abilities to open up to someone, let alone actually engage in a social activity." Helen leans forward just a tad. "And, I think you enjoyed it too."

She knows how to be just a bit flirtatious when the moment calls for it.

Then, her attention is back to the box in between them. "If you find a small reinforced shoe box? That stays here in my office. Will was the one that packed the room away last year... and I'm not quite sure where he placed it."

Ohh, but she likes his theatrics. They wouldn't get on near as much as they do if she didn't. Like Chas, she's one of his oldest friends, though that doesn't seem to be the right term, honestly.

John's carefully lifting out delicate baubles and the like, setting them away when she comes over to stand across from him. There's a soft look that comes over his features when he catches her eye and he has to shake his head. "Fine, yeah, maybe I did, but that is a secret we will both take to our graves. It'll murder my reputation."

Another bit of the box is set out for sorting and putting up. It's a good feel, all this. There's an energy to it, spark of it all that lingers even after bits and bobs get packed away after the holiday. At the mention of a box in particular, his mouth purses, and he arches a brow curiously.

"Noted. Going to tell me about the box or do I have to poke around all nosy-like?"

Helen tends to be the oldest in most things people deal with. If it's any consolation. She catches that soft look and gives him a wide smile. Time to leave it at that then.

"Well, we couldn't have your reputation ruined." She nods slightly in agreement. It's rather obvious to anyone who can see that John cares for children -- in his own way. "Although that secret might last a bit longer when it comes to me."

The corners of her lips perk up slightly at his question. As if he wouldn't be nosy-like. "They're the ornaments that are the oldest... or the most important. I didn't think you'd want the show and tell bit."

It should be more uncomfortable, he thinks. That she knows him well enough to know when to skirt around certain things or push for others.

"If its any consolation to the future possibilities of ruining, I was slumming it with an angel for a while and now I'm even hanging about with a mostly honest bunch of hero types." His reputation, if he had any good, is already at the bottom of the heap.

But of course he's going to be nosy. It's what he does, only in a more or less professional capacity. He's even got business cards! Course Gary went and redid them. And his voicemail. Soft idiot. "Since when do I do anything I don't want? I'm here, aren't I? Besides, isn't that the point of all this holiday cheer stuff? Sharing traditions and old stories and the like? Beating back against the cold and the dark?"

He will emphasize this by carrying over an ornament and going ahead and putting it on the tree. Oh look, glitter. This is about as bad as when Geraldine got him doing arts and crafts the once. She did up his tie in puffy paint.

"Still," Helen perks her eyebrows ever so slightly, "Imagine what would happen if word got out that the Master of the Dark Arts John Constantine was slumming it around the Sanctuary Network. What a scandal."

The teasing is there, but she does have to wonder about the serious implications of it. The Sanctuary is not as secure as it once had been. Event after event has made it more under the eyes of certain people and organizations. He has his hands involved with the time traveling crew. The last thing he needs is to be burdened with the events of the abnormal community.

She gives a small smile at his insistence. Then, a sigh. Helen presses the skirt to the back of her legs as she sits on the arm of the couch. Her hands fold in her lap.

"Very well. You're lucky that I've grown accustomed to forty questions daily from Will." Helen gives a small, yet tinged in sadness, as he walks back from the tree.

Beating back against the cold and the dark. How apt of a statement that is. If only it were a noble reason why she asked John to join her today for decorations. The truth is... it is a very selfish reason. No sort of grand statement of the season or the metaphoric implications of the holidays in the darkest time of the year.

She nods to the box. "Ask away."

The way she teases as she says that earns a chuckle and genuine, if possibly a little rare, smile. He turns his head down and away as if to hide it but it lingers.

As for burdens, he's had worse ones to carry. A few more of his own choice aren't any he's worried over. At least there's a say in this, not some angelic busybody dropping in with ruffled feathers out of shape bossing him about. It's better than his own demons clucking about like some unruly hens spooked cause there was a fox around.

For the first time since he's arrived, he takes a seat next to her after taking a moment to find the box in question and bringing it over with him. He's not daft, he's caught on that there's something more she's holding back, but doesn't push. It's a testament to their friendship that he trusts her to tell him in her own time.

"Pick one out first and we'll go from there," he retorts, setting it between them. It's a tell in and of itself. Which one draws her first and yes, maybe that's cheating, but its what he does. Cheating.

Helen gives him a look, her eyebrows perked up ever so slightly. "You do realize that my choosing is entirely against the point of this."

Of course he does, and he probably certainly doesn't much care. He's never been one to be conventional to rules and regulations. Which is part of why she's never once asked him to work with the Sanctuary. It would be a headache on both ends.

She crosses one leg over the other and rolls her eyes at him. Her eyes are turned up to his, purposely not looking at whatever one her fingers loop around and pull up. Why not make it a bit of a surprise for the both of them? Helen dangles it up between them and hums slightly.

"This one was given to me by an old friend." Yes, old meaning older than John. "James gave it to me when he became head of the London Sanctuary. It was a memento, a little bit of home, as it was clearly obvious that one Sanctuary would hardly be enough. A little bit of Victorian London to come with me no matter where I went."

She gave a playful shrug. "Sentimental from the man who was Sherlock Holmes."

All that he offers in response to that is a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. Which means he very much does know that and doesn't much care about the point of the whole thing. He's a contrary bastard in his best moments, the holidays and all aren't likely to ease that at any moment.

Even where he's at with the Legends he's still skirting being a full-on member of the team. Mostly cause he's used to working these gigs on his own. He's not used to helping hands and people willing to risk and brave the darkness alongside him.

"Old friend, eh?" His eyebrows raise up and a flicker of amusement turns up one corner of his mouth. There's an age to it that isn't just from the looks of it. It's from the care, the slight wear in places that comes with handling over years and years, however gentle. He tilts his head to get a better look as it catches the light while turning in her grip.

"Ohh, so I'm not your first detective then?" Cause of course he'd go there with it.

She gives a playful eye roll at his shrug. Of course. After knowing Nikola Tesla most of her long life? John's stubbornness is almost mild. The ornament rolls gently on her fingers, having obviously been repaired with a new ribbon to hang it by. She gives a gentle pat to his thigh before standing and making her way to the tree.

"Yes, old. James and I knew one another at Oxford," Helen casts a glance at him with her own shrug. "When I said he was Sherlock Holmes, I meant it. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle modeled the character off him."

A gentle dust of her hands as she makes her way back towards him. This time, however, she crosses her ankles and gestures at the box. He'll need to pick the next one if they're going to continue the little game. In simple terms, it's her way of offering him an open look into her life.

"Oh, John. You're hardly my first directive or profiler. But, you are the first I've slept with."

Well, he hasn't had time yet to hone that stubborn tenacity. He's sure if he had a couple of centuries under his belt he could give heaven itself a run for its money. He may yet get the chance, who knows?

"Blimey," he says softly, a bit of wonder in his tone. "And I thought I'd known some interesting sorts."

He knows a fair few. Just not on the same level as her. Well-traveled by both geography and the stretch of time overshadowing years. He hums in thought, looking over the box between them and picks out these.

"Well, I suppose that's something in my favor at least," he chuckles.

"There was also Nigel Griffin, the Invisible Man. Nikola Tesla, quite obvious who that is," Helen purposely uses the last word, "and... the man who became London's most notorious murderer."

John Druitt isn't the best topic for the holiday though.

She walks over at the sight of the ornaments. Ah. Her fingers rest at the bottom to gently nudge them up to eye level. Though she does need to lean down to get a good look at them.

"From the aforementioned Nigel Griffin. He found them hidden in a small shop in Berlin. I asked when he had found it.. turns out he snuck them out right under the American's noses on V-E Day." Helen pauses, eyebrows perking up slightly. "It probably helps when you ccan become invisible."

"And I thought me and my sorry lot got around," he muses idly, smile quirking but not reaching his eyes. Especially not on the note of that last person.

Hearing about this part of her life, her history, is a treat to be sure.

"Bit light-fingered, was he?" Oh, that's his sort of people for sure. "Can't blame him with a talent like that. I have to settle for mind wipes. Hard to work on a crowd."

"Your lot gets to travel through time. We took the slower path. I'd say you certainly 'get around far more." Helen points out as she goes and places the ornaments on the tree. "Nigel had more than a pair of slippery fingers. The Prime Minister held it over his head once for robbing the Bank of England."

She shifts the ornament around until she is satisfied with where it sits. She glances over the tree again.

"His daughter and granddaughter inherited his ability." She half turns to him, fingers picking at one another. A bit of a nervous habit. Its rather obvious what her statement implies for all of them involved in the experiment. "Unfortunately, none of us had dormant genetic capabilities for psychic powers. Which may work out for you in the end, John. I rather doubt you'd want me inside your head."

"Well, it isn't like it's a vacation or anything, love. Though, I did get to banish a unicorn to hell at Woodstock," he muses aloud, a hint of a smirk dancing over his mouth. Is he playing up a story or telling the truth? He clicks his tongue at mention of the Prime Minister getting involved. John's been lucky that no government types outside of the bloody police have gotten involved with him.

That is one bedfellow he doesn't envy not having. "Maybe they should've had better security then."

Sounds to him like that Nigel bloke was just doing his civic duty in showing the obvious gaps in security and all. Ungrateful. He snorts a little at the comment of psychic abilities. "Don't take it personally, love. Pretty certain nobody wants inside my head."

Her eyebrows raise at that statement. "And why did you banish a unicorn to Hell? They're incredibly rare."

Helen will settle for now that he might be telling the truth. John likes to parade his exploits as long as they don't hit home to a certain point. The more sensitive ones? Well, in many ways, she only knows about Ravenscar because she is his doctor. Psyche evaluations and paperwork naturally fall under her parameter.

That, and, not many people are going to tell Helen Magnus no.

"It was the 19th Century. There weren't many sophisticated security systems." She teases back. Then, she shakes her head, causing her brunette curls to bounce. "I rather doubt you'd want inside my head as well. Thus, I think we can agree on that."

Oh, now, here it comes. "If it were your fluffy fairytale type of unicorn I'd have let it be. It was killing hippies at Woodstock and mucking up the timeline. Beast escaped out of hell, I only sent it back where it belonged is all," he tells her.

He does have a tendency to peacock around. As such, he will go on about his best work. Upset doesn't cover how he feels when Newcastle is brought up.

"Still, sounds to me like he was just doing them a favor over all. Pointing out things they could do better," he offers with a grin. "Make a right old pair, the two of us, eh?"

"...Ah. A hell unicorn." Helen tests the mere idea of it on her lips. Then she tilts her head with her eyebrows raised, shrugging slightly. Why not? He has had enough in her life that is certainly odd enough. Hell is a dimension she has long let him deal with and explain.

A laugh. "Now, if only the Prime Minister and King Edward had seen it that way."

There's a playful roll of her eyes. If only that meeting with the Prime Minister had gone over so keenly. It was rather the opposite. Threats, really. Nigel and Druitt had records of their own that the police could of used. James had been the only one in good standing. As for herself? Well, they had pretended to turn an eye away from the Sanctuary because it worked within the realm of public security. Though they were willing to shut it down if they hadn't co-operated with them.

His question makes her expression soften and a small smile tug at her mouth. A right old pair indeed. A pair that is never quite honest with their feelings or intentions. Which leaves her feeling rather guilty at times like this. She returns to him, folding her skirt under her legs in order to sit across from him on the coffee table. That in itself is rather odd, given how much of a stickler she is for proper manners and etiquette. Her hands fold in her lap as small sigh leaves her.

If he's to get up and run off, she supposes it might as well be now.

"John..." her lips press together. One would think that after a hundred and fifty years, she'd be far better at this. "I am more than aware that this sort of festivity is far outside what you consider comfortable. You have my gratitude for soldiering on through it for my sake. As well as an explanation."

Her gaze drops. She prides herself on being so put together and emotions tucked away as they need to be. The picture perfect ideal of Keep Calm and Carry On. Stiff upper lip of English tradition. It's times like this that truly show how out of time she is. Vulnerability is hardly something that comes natural.

"It used to be that several of the residents would help decorate the Sanctuary," she practically forces herself to say. "Then, when I had Ashley... it became our tradition. Even when she became a teenager? She'd always look forward to at least decorating my office with the family ornaments. This year... I suppose I simply needed some company to keep the tradition going."

Her adopted family were all with their own families or other acquaintances this particular day. Helen hardly had the heart to find a reason to keep any of them present in the building to indulge her loneliness of the season. So, she had reached out to John, with every expectation he'd say 'No thank you, love, I don't do the holidays.'

He certainly finds ways to surprise her every time.

"S'what I said," he says, grinning as she tests the idea out. "Ones I know have this musk, powerful hallucinogen and they use it to take down their defenses before impaling the hearts. Nasty buggers."

He grins when she says that after about the political bunch. "Yeah, well, since when do any of those lot have a sense of humor to spare between them? Had even less of one when one of my mates on the Waverider stole one of the Queen's corgis. Done him up like he was in a punk band after."

Which was entirely too amusing to John. But her tone shifts, changes and he sobers a little, giving over his attention in earnest. He could offer excuses that it isn't any trouble, so on and so forth, but she knows him too bloody well for all that. All of this though? It hits close to the mark. Zed's got her life with Corrigan (he keeps tabs still, dreading the day that vision of hers finally comes true), Chas is with Renee and Ger. He hasn't been welcome in that house for years now, so he doesn't bother. What's the point?

The ship? Well, they've got each other, haven't they? He's just there off and on. No real place or attachments. Otherwise it's just the old Logue house in the middle of bugger all with naught but the gargoyles and a bottle to keep him company. Too many ghosts.

At least here their ghosts are in good company.

"Don't even think I remember the last time I helped with anything like this, honestly. Must have but---" A half shrug. "I'm probably a miserable guest though. So I should be thanking you for putting up with us."

"Well, I suppose things from different planes of existence would operate differently. Do I want to know how it got released into our dimension?"

Thank God she is a scientist of the unknown. Otherwise, she might have thought John was a bit daft in the head long ago.

She supposes that she could have asked any of the residents in the Sanctuary that are mobile to decorate -- and that have the hands to do so. Then again, that wouldn't have quite solved the problem. The decorations were just the activity. It is the companionship she was looking for. Something personal.

Helen looks up at him from worrying her hands together when he speaks. A small smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth before shaking her head gently at him. She has to wonder if his family had ever done something like this. Perhaps his sister? Not that his upbringing is one she has ever prodded about. Knowing his medical and psychological history is enough to point to the kind of environment he had come from.

She reaches out and covers one of his hands with hers.

"I have had far more miserable guests and people to spend my time with." She smiles then. "You weren't the one trapped with Will when our helicopter went down in an abandoned oil rig with a vampyroteuthis infernalis in the water."

John gives an indelicate snort at her question. "What other way? That lot I run around with being wankers and messing about with things they don't bloody understand. More work for me and I don't much appreciate it. "

It's been a long time, a very long time, since anyone has wanted John around for more than just information. A quick shag. What have you. It's odd and maybe a touch endearing if he dares to think long on it. He's not used to being a consideration when it comes to personal fixtures in anyone's lives.

As far as family goes? Before Cheryl had run off they stole moments to make their own. Usually pinching a few quid out of the old man's wallet when he was passed out drunk. Making breakfast together or getting some sweets. Small things to ease some of the awful. Not enough to keep them all together in the long run, though. Complicated feelings, all that.

Her hand lays over his own and he turns his own to capture it before she can think to draw it away.

"Is that some kind of challenge thrown down?" Teasing, for sure. This is too nice to risk mucking up. "Ohhh, I see. Which one was miserable? Him or the squids?" He grins. "Bet it was him."

"Here I thought it might of been someone else that went about messing with things they shouldn't. Maybe I'm the one that gets to handle those sort of adventures."

More often or not that is exactly how she finds the situations the Abnormals are in. Someone stuck their nose where they shouldn't have. Sometimes the Abnormal got out on their own. The rare times they need to secure the Abnormal before someone else can hurt them first.

Her hand freezes for a moment in his touch, but does ease within seconds. Ah, so, it is going to be like that. Fair enough, she supposes. Her care and affection for her staff and patients of the Sanctuary has always been far different than the intimate sort. It's hard to show intimacy, and not due to her age. That ability had been damaged a very long time ago by another man with the same name. There's no worry with this John that he might degrade mentally and find himself a murderer. She rather has the feeling that John Constantine would find a way to remove himself before letting that happen.

"I'd hope not. I can't begin to think what you might do in order to win that one." Helen ducks her head down with a smile on her face. Just to hide it a tad. "It was most certainly him. I had more or less forced his hand to come with me on the trip in the first place. Being stuck in such close proximity made us work out or rather... disgruntled feelings towards one another at the time."

"I'm sure you've had plenty of days to deal with that sort of thing. Though we may have some that could use some help with relocating. I could talk to Sara about it."

Especially since the Time Bureau was compromised. They deserved to find their own measure of peace in a safe environment. Not hanging about as some sideshow attraction.

There's tension when he takes her hand but he doesn't push. She's given ample time to draw away if she so chooses and he's quietly pleased when she doesn't decide to. If he were ever the type to lose the plot he certainly would have things in place to take him off the board well before that became an issue for anyone else.

"I'll pretend you didn't say anything so we don't have to find out then," said with more than a touch of amusement. "Nothing like a little work tension to make the day go by, eh?" Of course he's had other sorts of tension in regards to some of the Legends. Ava doesn't much care for him since before they had hooked up, Lance had shagged John in a mental institute.

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notanemptymotto - 2021-05-13 05:47 (UTC) - Expand

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· A MERRY HOLIDAY OPEN POST (CMO) ·

A MERRY HOLIDAY OPEN POST

🎄 Oh, let it snow, let it snow!

🎄 Sounds that tell us it's Christmastime again!

🎄 We Wish You A Merry Christmas!

decorating.

i love how everyone picks this one

it's fun and they can decorate and carouse at the same time y/y?

if he is slick enough at carousing he might find he doesn't need mistletoe

well, he'll have to do his best to be charming

hmmm might definitely lead to a kiss-and-don't-tell-chas moment

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