Happy birthday.

Given everything that had happened, a quiet birthday seemed like a good idea for Peter. His mother here at aged sixteen, his brother pissed off with him for not mentioning how things were with Adam... Yeah, a quiet time was in order.

He had a half shift at the clinic, taking the afternoon off, followed by nothing much. Some time in the cafe, perhaps with a good book, or seeing friends.

His plans for that evening were a quiet dinner in, hopefully with Adam. Just some time to relax for once.

Thread with Adam happens last

Hey mate its Chris. I was wondering if you could do me a favor? My friend Michelle asked me to be her matchmaker and I don't have a clue where to start. She's my age and finishing school here.

At the bar for quick drop off for her newest customer, Nancy was sitting at the bar, sipping a cranberry and vodka on the house and feeling slightly nostalgic with the current jukebox selection. It had been a while since Nancy had heard the Ramones and even a while since she had been in the bar when she thought about it; at least, compared to how often she used to frequent it on her lonesome.

She found it funny how things had moved along for her over the past couple of months though, and while she was grateful for Judah and the peace he brought with him, she was still wondering when the usual drama of her life would return.

Nancy just felt like something crazy was overdue.

---

Starting behind the bar, Wendy was thinking the same thing. However, instead of being a bit cautious about the possibility of something crazy and dramatic happening to her here, she was welcoming it with open arms. Sure, she had heard a couple horror stories about things that had happened in the village in the past, but none of it scared her as much as it made her curious.

Settling by making her own fun for the moment though, she was shaking her head and hips to the music a bit while rolling up a cigarette with her own small pouch of cherry tobacco and a large crushed up bud from her fresh quarter ounce. She planned on pairing it with a glass of rum heavy eggnog and maybe even some Blondie on the jukebox next.

After all, there was nothing wrong with the bartender having a good time as long as they could still remember how to make a drink in the process. And with plenty of practice between Neil, his mom, and the rest of her friends in the city while intoxicated, Wendy was more than confident she could do that.

John woke up blinking at the sunlight. In their enjoyment last night, he'd never closed the curtains, but as the days were so short, the nights so long, when he rolled over to look at the clock, it was nine, not six.

He rolled back over to look at the woman sprawled next to him, her hair wild and tousled. She was beautiful like this, perhaps more beautiful than any other time, the sunlight golden on her smooth skin, the blankets tangled around her legs. John smiled and shifted forward, smoothing a hand over her belly.

i_hope_that
For many of us, the holidays can be kind of rough. If you're searching for a network of understanding friends, this ultra-nurturing community encourages you to express your heartfelt wishes and offer other members encouragement and acceptance. Not for the terminally snarky or emotionally-challenged, this is a good-spirited place to lend comfort and support.

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The 21st traditionally brings the longest night of the year and the deepening of winter in the western world, and for Raphael, it also brings around the day they mark him turning seveteen. Or is it eighteen? It's really hard to keep track -- the way one juggles the years. Fifteen, the Shredder dies (the first time). Sixteen, they spend time with April.... and in space... and more with April...and...

Okay, sixteen was a busy year, and it ended with pain and misery. Doesn't matter. He 'turns' seventeen last of the brothers. Come January 1st, they'll be eighteen, and mark their ages so with the turning of the new year.

It's bewildering, yes, but it's the system they've got.

Unlike his other brothers, though. He doesn't get up looking for presents. He gets up, checks his phone for messages, has breakfast with Smeesh curled against his feet at the kitchen table in the suite, and then gets ready to head to the garage to see what they gave him to work with, silent and not at all as happy as somebody who happens to be having a birthday.


[Catch him at home in the hotel, headed to the garage, or at the garage proper!]

Think about all the people that've left, and all the things you didn't get to say to them that you wish you had.

Now think about the people that are still here, and that you still have a chance to say all of those things to.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!

--Leslie Ann Burke, Queen of Terabithia

How are you?

*sends after a half minute*
...the both of you?

Kerai was looking through the racks, listening to bits and snatches of singers from every era represented on the music store shelves. She was trying to find the raw material for her midwinter's presents.

One recording made her stop, poised like a hunting dog hearing a rustle in the brush as she listened. The music -- was good, but not weave worthy, the singer however -- given a decent weave to sing, that woman would manifest the power, Kerai was certain of it. She looked again at the name 'Edith Piaf' she mouthed.

Well, a proto-weaver from years before was interesting, but she needed songs, songs that she could weave into something -- songs of peace, solace, hope.

Happens after this message session.

My visit only marginally has to do with Tabitha's request. I didn't realise that John was having difficulties, it's true, and I can see how he fares. No, this is more about my reactions to Tabitha herself and my ability to keep thinking clearly--which I am not able to do at all when she is about.

Actually, this could be an interesting conversation. At least I know John well enough that he won't be embarrassed at all. How could he? It's his work we're discussing. I think I should have had something more to drink before coming. One ale is not enough for this sort of thing--I feel that a few more would make it seem quite a lot like home.

Clark I saw this really cool game. You beat up a lizard man and save a princess.

Hello, John. I know it's an awkward time of year for many people but I have a favour to ask of you. I has to do with your work, actually. I'd rather not discuss it through messages--would you mind meeting? Perhaps in your rooms? If this is not 'okay', please do not hesitate to say so.

Imoen had had a blast, all day, playing in the snow--if you'd been pelted by a mystery snowball and heard lots of girlish giggling coming from an unidentifiable source? Yeah, that was probably her. Beware the mischievous mage-thief with an invisibility spell and an uncanny knack for melding into the shadows. Of course, now she had to go to work and be stuffy and proper for a few hours, so she prettied up her hair and put on a heavy velvet dress and a cloak, and set out through the snow to Veritas, resisting (barely) the urge to make just one more snowball and toss it at unsuspecting passerby. Boss'd probably get really irritated if she showed up messy and covered in snow.

Course when she got to work, the walkway was completely blocked by snow. Tsking, Imoen braced her hands on her hips and pouted at the walkway thoughtfully, before she came up with a simple enough solution. She might not be fighting every day, but she still dutifully memorized her spells every night, and with a quick incantation, a jet of flame shot from her hands took care of the mess in no time. Never ever underestimate the power of Burning Hands.

ooc: come by for a drink at the bar, wtf at the fire, or get her back for some earlier (handwaved) snowball pelting! :D

Desire was still angry. So angry that the flash heat of its original rage never managed to go all the way down, and was currently banked in hot glowing embers that weren't going to leave any time soon. But with the dimming came the ability to think in the long term, and create a plan that would eventually cause John to fall before it.

The plan was simple, and not something that really needed to be written down. It was something that had been done time and again to bring about the fall of a man. This would simply be the newest chapter.

First in plan was finding John, of course. Finding John and convincing him that the lie of change Desire would create was true. That might be a little bit hard, but one could only try their best and Desire was nothing if not persuasive.

She adjusted herself, slipping into female and smoothing the soft sweater she wore down. Her jeans were dark, but her sweater was a nice green that complemented her tawny eyes. Heading in the direction she felt John, she let her rolling catlike grace take over.

She might be turning a new leaf, but no one said anything about not teasing him a little.

Allison had spent a good part of her day putting any breakable items hidden away, then made sure Bridgette's room was set up as a space for the three and under crowd to sleep. She knew there would be at least one infant (which made her happier than it should have, considering she already had three kids and another one was mostly out of the question) so she left room for the mobile crib.

In the dining room, she covered the table with a cheap tablecloth and already had cookies cooling down as she set out different colored frosting, sprinkles, and other things to decorate with. There were enough cookies for everyone to take some home to their parents and for Allison, Kerai and Bridgette to have some left over.

When the first few kids showed up, the Christmas tree was already plugged in and blinking multi colored lights, and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was on the television.

Harry had been absurdly busy these past two weeks with an unexpected influx of people wnating to commemorate various winter holidays in ink. It left him little time to make his own preparations, but somehow (in his mind, he could hear Professor McGonagall saying sheer dumb luck) it was all done.

Deliveries were being made, as needed. Aidan already had his gift.

( For Snape )

( For James and Lily )

( For Sirius and Remus )

( For Ron/Hermione/Cedric )

( For Will )

( For John and Derek )

Eventually, all the gifts but one had been wrapped and delivered. It was the hardest of all the gifts he had to do this year, but it was also well overdue.

( For Albus )

Happy Christmas, indeed.

[ooc: If I forgot any of Harry's friends/family, please be assured he sent something. Merry Christmas!]