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Posted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 9:45 am
Quote: Destiny City has had a few experiences with snow so far, but no one can argue that this most recent snow is the best for building snowmen. It's on a weekend, and the weather is just perfect. Many have dubbed today the city's unofficial 'Build a Snowman Day'. Snowman, snow sculpture, snow angel--whatever you want to make, have fun with it! Young or old, take some time to appreciate the little things and connect with some good old, basic, winter fun! Word Count: 618As Clay trudged his way toward the city, he spotted a large cluster of children making use of the snow in the nearby park. Parents seated themselves on cleared-off benches or stood beneath trees to watch, and many of them either gossiped among one another or sipped steaming drinks while watching their kids. Most everyone looked bundled up in their old winter wear, and all notable fashions lay buried beneath layers and layers of heat-retaining clothing. Even the kids struggled with moving about in cumbersome coats and heavy pants. Clay didn't give a damn about the clothes, though, for they looked like they were having fun.
The smallest kids looked like they were six years old at most, and pushed around a pathetic-looking snowball. In time, it grew bigger, and they steered their approach toward two larger lumps stacked on top of each other by the older children. As Clay's focus widened, he noticed a number of these clusters throughout what was once the soccer field in the park. They huddled around other lumps of snow, which Clay soon realized were the beginnings of snowmen. Some looked iconic for the classic take, with the kids going so far as to add stones for buttons and forsake a scarf from one unlucky kid. One even brought a top hat with him as a finishing touch. Another had a carrot. That group, he decided, knew where it was at. Couldn't beat a classic.
Another group made what looked like a snow scarecrow, complete with looming arms from some of the fallen branches. Sones and pebbles composed the teeth in an open-mouthed scowl, and a couple pieces of charcoal formed angry eyes that watched passersby. Clay didn't care much for this one, primarily because they created such a skinny snowman; weren't they all supposed to be fat?
The last one he looked to left him smickering to himself. At a glance, it looked like any other normal snowman. Round belly base, barrel chest, smaller head… Standard fare, he decided. But a few kids added some decorations that left him wondering if they stole the snowman from someone else. Instead of a top hat, the snowman wore horns. A fake beard stuck (somehow) to his chin in the typical dastardly devil fashion. A pitch fork was jabbed into his side, presumably because no stick they found could hold it. A small, moldable devil tail received the same treatment. And as a last touch, one of the kids now wedged a shiny red cape between head and body to lend him a sinister air. This, Clay decided, was a good use of old Halloween costume pieces.
Shaking his head, Clay continued on through the snowswept sidewalks. He remembered building snowmen with his folks when he was far younger. The snowmen looked enormous back then, and the largest one they built left him straining to reach the bottom of the head. They let him try to push the button-rocks into his base, but he remembered one of the rocks simply wouldn't take, no matter how hard he pushed. He missed his parents sometimes when plagued by reminiscence, but he knew there was little point to the feeling. He could walk the half mile back to his folks' house whenever he wanted, and probably get greeted and fed like any other kid who left home. Then he'd get in a fight with-
A snowball exploded on the ground before him, shocking him out of the thought. A quick glance back confirmed a couple of teens engaging in a snowball fight and he walked on; he had birdseed to buy, so all this Winter Wonderland bullshit had to wait.
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Posted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 9:46 am
Quote: It was like any other light, winter snow. It was chilly and clouds hung in the sky but if you looked up you could swear you could still see the stars. The snow falls gently and coats the ground in a light layer--but these aren't normal snowflakes. Mixed in with the regular snow, crystalized snowflakes seem to be falling. These are roughly the size of a quarter and are light and hollow. They are fragile, like glass, but glisten like a fine cut gem. No one can explain this anomaly, but these small snowflakes won't melt. And they are all over Destiny City. You can find them gently falling to the ground, or lying in the fresh fallen snow. They don't seem evil--but they do make for some cute keepsakes! Word Count: 639As he kept walking, the steely winter sky held rigid overhead. Soon, a few flakes started to descend, and Clay cussed as he pulled his hood over his hair. The clouds shimmered, and he figured it a trick of the lights - it wasn't late enough in the evening for the stars to be out. His heavy boots crunched dutifully through the snow as he pushed himself toward his destination. Clay knew he'd be sore after this - he almost always was when it came to early winter snows - but he didn't have time to think about how much his feet hurt.
In truth, he totally had enough time to think about how much his feet hurt, so he veered off the sidewalk path to sit down beneath a tree. The snow proved thinner beneath its thick branches, so Clay worried little about the cold soaking through his snow pants. Gloved hands squeezed at his ankles and the tops of his feet and he soon realized he couldn't feel s**t through all the layers. In a brief minute, Clay loosed his shoes and pulled out socked feet that almost felt too hot in the winter weather. Again he tried to massage away the pain, and paused only when one of the fresh falling snowflakes lit upon the grey wool sock.
Initially he didn't notice it - snow fell all around him in a light dusting - but his mind told him something was up when the flake refused to melt. On a whim, he sloughed off one of his gloves to touch the flake with his bare hand. Initially he pulled away when he felt the coldness of it; after wearing gloves and overheating his extremities for so long, Clay found snowflakes a little painful to touch. When the thing didn't stick to his hand or melt, however, he started to take interest. Usually snow ******** off by then and got all over the place as chilly water. But why think about it? The damn thing was staring him in the face, unmelted on his hot foot, waiting for him to do something with it or shove it into his boot. Finally he grabbed the flake and held it in hand.
When he looked at it, the snowflake held the same stle of design as the shitty paper ones he used to cut out back in second grade. While they definitely weren't paper, he wasn't sure what they were - glass, maybe? That weird crystal s**t they sell in Swarovsky or whatever? Speaking of crystal… Maybe they were some high-class meth. Briefly Clay entertained the notion of snorting one.
He pocketed the flake after a moment of thought and crammed his foot back into his boot. There'd be time to look at them and figure them out later. For now, he wanted to see if there were more about, and if there were, he wanted to load his pockets with those that he found. If they turned out to be glass or crystal or whatever, he wanted to sell as many of the damned things as he could carry. Sure, it wasn't exactly Thug Life to be hocking snowflakes on the street corners, but if they turned a profit, then it beat the s**t out of standing behind the register of the pet store. Besides, he could get one of those jeweler people in on it and they could turn that s**t into necklaces or earrings or whatever. Then maybe they could open an actual store for the winter holidays and make some bank.
Finally motivated, Clay spent the next few minutes gathering what he could of the strange flakes before he resumed his journey. His pockets grew stuffed in record time, and he wanted to finish up his errand so he could look for a lucrative business partner.
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Posted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 9:46 am
Quote: Strange snow flurries have been blowing through town, frosting entire buildings. Sometimes they come out of nowhere--overnight, or in the timespan of just a few short hours. Snow falls rapidly and ice coats doors and window, sealing them shut. These snow flurries are knocking out power, and worse--trapping people in buildings and cars. If one of these flurries hits, where do you wind up? Word Count: 1054The light dusting went on for some time. It accumulated in stray flakes on his shoulders and hood, and sometimes shook off when Clay rolled his shoulders or bent over to tie up the loose laces on his shoes. Steady as it was, the snowfall mainly functioned to deaden ambient sound into a comforting silence. Sometimes when he stood still, Clay could hear the flakes patter against the blanket of snow, but he figured that was about all for the weather forecast that evening.
And then it wasn't - in an unconscionably short period of time, the lilting snowfall transitioned to a vicious flurry that whipped chunks of snow into his face like stinging rocks. "Ah s**t…" Clay closed his hood around his face as far as it would stretch and broke into a trot to evade the weather. Wind billowed and howled through snow-laden trees, kicking loose the thin dusting that rested there. Sweeps of sparkling white cut across the street before him and whipped about until visibility fell to a concerning weather. Of the headlights he spotted through the gust, most of them looked pulled to the side of the road, as if intending to wait out the winter fury. Lucky, he thought bitterly, you assholes get to sit in your warm cars and ******** off while the rest of us freeze to death out here.
The flurry buffeted him into a drunken, stumbling trot through the wide sidewalk. Soon the walk turned and he knew by the absent gulf before him that he finally reached the mall parking lot. Visibility fell short enough that he couldn't spot a single damned building to know where he faced, but there wasn't time to go get his bearings. The flurry picked up in its intensity, and blustering winds struck him over and over again with volleys of snow. He wanted to get out of it before it bypassed his coat's waterproofing and soaked thorugh his clothes. He wanted to find warm shelter before his reddened cheeks and nose simply sloughed off his face in the midst of the stinging. But most of all, he just wanted to warm the ******** up.
Parking lot lights almost worened visibility for how they peered down in their hued beacons across the flurry of glistening snow. They proved useful landmarks, however, and Clay carefully trudged from one lamp post to the next as he searched for the building silhouette. Finally it came into sight, thanks in part to a crooked car parked in the middle of the street, and Clay made a dash for its entrance. In one final show of force, the flurry picked up again and buffeted him hard enough to send him skidding toward the car, but he made it to the automatic sliding doors that marked the opening of the mall.
Gladdened as he was to see this epitome of consumer culture, Clay forced his tired feet to put him in range of the door's motion sensor. He watched as it turned green with recognition of him - the one light that proved he was worthy of sanctuary from this mess - and that excitement soon turned to dread as he heard the telltale crunching of an icy grip. The doors budged not at all; ice froze them shut long before he reached them. Even the glass looked frosted over to the point that he couldn't make out a single face by the door.
First he tried to pry the doors apart with brute strength. After running gloved fingers through the crack where the sliders met, Clay wedged his hands in as far as he could and tried to pry them apart. Again they crackled with the presence of ice, but not once could he manage some progress. Finally he beat on the surface of the glass and called to the few customers he could see. "Hey! Hey, over here! The door's stuck!" Frantically he pointed toward the center of the doors.
Clay didn't have long to wait, however; a blurry wall of a man approached hte door, his features resolving slowly beyond the icy coating. He took some long black thing from out of view and held it in hand like a weapon. Clay backed away only when the man executed an exaggerated shooing motion, and was immediately glad for the decision - as he watched, the piece of black metal shot out from between the doors like a booby trap. Again the creaking crackle of ice broke through the whistling wind, and in a great groan, the doors started to open. A slow process, the burly man could only manage a solid foot of room before he called out to Clay. "I can't get it any farther than this! Can you make it through?"
Immediately Clay darted for the door, and when he couldn't slide himself through initially, he fumbled buttons and zippers until he could rip his coat off. Finally he could dart inside, and he helped the much larger man force the door back shut by pushing on the opposite frame. The chore demanded considerable energy, and only after they were sheltered from the flurry did Clay realize that his fingers stung like ******** with new feeling. He shook them out vigorously.
"Hey man, thanks. s**t just started storming out there." At least in the mall, there was plenty of shelter - and birdseed. As he looked about, however, he soon realized that far more shoppers had the same idea as he, and milled about in a writhing mass of humanity. The guy who took notice of him offered a quick "welcome", and similarly disappeared (which boggled Clay's mind - how could a dude that big just disappear into a crowd?). Clay rubbed his hands against the grey hoodie to warm them proper. Pink as they were now, he didn't want to touch anything.
At least, he thought, the raging winter storm was beyond reach. Hell, he didn't have to start shopping for birdseed and scat straight away; he could loiter about, maybe grab a coffee to warm up, and wait out the storm. Maybe find some new kicks - he remembered seeing some Scarface-style sneakers he rather liked in Journeys. Yeah, that's right, homies be bowin' down when they see those sick earth pads.
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Posted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 10:13 am
Quote: Shopping for anything at this time of year can be downright crazy. Stores are filled to the brim and people have broken out into fighting over--what, things? The best deal on jewelry, the newest toy craze. Honestly, no one sane should be out right now.
But, for some reason, here you are. Something out there compelled you to join these crowds--so what is it? Why did you brave this busy time of the year to shop? Are you one of the many looking for that one perfect gift? Or did you just so happen to run out of toilet paper at the same time someone started a major sale? Whatever it is that's got you out--just be careful; those crowds are dangerous! Word Count: 610Man, look at all these coocoo ********. Who goes out in that s**t? I got birds to feed, and all these looney toons be cruisin' for their last minute deals. I don't got the patience for that s**t. Clay spared little time marveling at the crowds. With a raging winter storm outside and raging customers inside, he wanted to get home as soon as humanly possible. Hell, he even entertained the idea of powering up, draining those who darted in his way, topping off his quota and using that added strength and speed to make it home before the cold froze his nuts off. He knew the winter weather would bite through his uniform with little effort, however, and abandoned the thought for that reason alone. What good would it do him if he froze to a rooftop a quarter mile from the house?
Clay jostled and shoved his way through the crowd with little regard for who he was pushing. Some people objected, others slammed into him, and indignant mothers used their strollers as weapons to carve a path through the chaos. If ever he wanted to see humanity at its worst, Clay reminded himself to go back to the malls during the holidays. It seemed like a quick and clean death for any potential philanthropic feelings. Touch was suddenly accepted and even permitted as people fought each other to jockey for an entrance into the nearest store. He could dig it, though; he knew the worth of a damn good deal.
As he escaped into a pet store, Clay found that the cramped quarters featured less human saturation than out in the mall proper. A quick sigh of relief, and he strolled among the familiar aisles to find the bangs and bags of bird food on the bottom shelf. Two ten-pound bags of millet seed were thrown atop each shoulder, and Clay balanced them expertly as he cut back trhough the center area. Here, rounders of various dog toys, dog bakery items, and small animals sat on display and divided the main walking path. He skirted them as he often did when working, and paused only when he heard the sound of a woman yelling a few decibels too high.
All I wanted to do was feed my ********' birds, and I gotta look at this s**t. Bounce, mofos. Go the ******** home. This s**t ain't kosher. Still, he looked on as two presumable mothers fought over the last sun conure in the store. Many people coveted that bird year round, and Clay found it tantalizingly sweet himself, but the $450 dollar pricetag dissuaded most people from picking her up. The winter deals, however, slashed the price in half and left these two squabbling mothers in a deadlock over who gets to walk away with the new family pet. He'd seen movies like this - the two would escalate, and in the end, the bird would get killed by their insolence. He was decidedly Not Ready to witness bird death, so he darted for the counter as quick as he could.
"'Sup," he greeted quickly as the two bags hit the counter. He already knew the prices, so a minute of fishing through his wallet produced a ten-dollar bill that he laid atop the bags. In the well-rehearsed exchanged, the two pennies went into the register collection (since, to Clay's chagrin, they weren't allowed to accept tips) and he shouldered the bags to go.
Even after he left the store, he still heard the women shrieking. Clay reminded himself to stop gritting his teeth for the safety of that bird.
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Posted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 10:14 am
Quote: While the Holiday is all about giving, you've just witnessed someone taking. In the middle of a crowded shopping mall, you just saw someone blatantly pickpocket someone else--or maybe, they tried to pickpocket you? You've got a few options--turn a blind eye, inform the victim, chase the thief--anything you feel is right. But still, you've got to do something. Word Count: 545The mall was a madhouse to the moment he left. Even after acquiring the birdseed, the flurries outside still raged - and Clay took the opportunity to sit down and have a cup of coffee at the overcrowded Starbucks until the winter storm subsided. It never fully dissipated, but Clay deemed it safe enough to venture outside in the blustering wind and escape the crazy consumers. Besides, he was getting tired of hauling around his bulky jacket.
During the walk home, Clay popped in earbuds to drown out the constant howl from the wind. Even as the cords whipped and slapped against the chest of his puffy coat, the sufficiently high volume masked the action. Now he could walk in relative peace without anyone jostling or bumping into him, and without some psycho moms arguing over who gets to take home a bird. If one of those flurries kicked up again, he'd be in trouble, but after the mall he decided he'd take it in stride. Maybe he'd find a tree or something if it got too bad.
His legs ached, however, and his balls itched from all the sweating that was happening inside the layers. With no one else around, Clay decided to scratch where he needed it most - and that sudden stop alerted him to a pressure against his upper thigh. Turning, he spotted a wiry, middle-aged man with skin like canvas stretched over a knobby skull. Immediately Clay recognized what was going on, and the man must've spotted the realization in Clay's eyes, for he turned and darted toward the park. While he stumbled down the embankment, he looked to be headed toward the now-abandoned snowmen from the earlier children.
Clay decided against going after him when he felt his wallet dangling from its chain. "That's right, ********! You best be steppin'! I'll light yo' a** up if you try that again!" The sound found no echo in the snow. Clay hardly knew whether to assume the man heard him or not, but he looked far enough away to not be a concern.
"I'm so ********' wasted," Clay admitted to himself as he resumed walking. He managed only a single glance toward the cover of trees before his feet took him on a detour. Into the thicket he went, and in an automatic fashion, he pulled the henshin pen from the depths of his pants pocket. The man never tried to pinch it off him, but if he did, Clay was pretty certain he'd be SOL. How could he report it? How would he get another? The questions found little bearing as he shifted his focus to powering up as a means to get home and out of the storm.
Surprisingly, the cold didn't shred through his uniform as quickly as he expected. He picked up the bags of birdseed from their place in the snow and heaved them over his shoulders. With a sigh, Morpheus committed himself to dashing through the snow in a ridiculous-looking outfit, but it meant being able to go home and go to bed a helluva lot sooner.
That was enough of a tradeoff, he decided. The day's events left him wiped. Winter in Destiny City proved too much for him.
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