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 Posted: Fri Nov 12, 2010 4:13 pm
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xYou are wandering the mall, and there...you see. Seated in a gilded throne of red velvet, a thick man in red. A crisp white beard upon his face. His cheeks rosy with blush. A red sleeping cap on top of his head. Santa Clause! You stare at him and then, he calls out to you with his deep, jolly voice, "Hey there! Come and sit on Santa's Lap!" Here, you just post your character's reaction. Will your character run to Chris Kringle and hop onto his lap and list your Christmas wish list? Or would you flee from the phony Clause?
This is a roleplay contest, you will be judged on creativity and just general Holiday giggles.
Credit and thanks goes to hailosaurus for this contest idea.
Start Date:: November 16
End Date:: January 15
Judging End Date:: January 17
.::First Place Prize::.
The right to claim a legendary pokemon + A Simple Anime Waist-up - Flat color from Autopsy Dinner Date + A Chibi - from Emotional Sandwich
.::Second Place Prize::.
Doodle Style1 - from Shaish + A Chibi sketch - Flat color from MokuMoku Hoshi
.::Third Place Prize::.
A Cartoon Bust - Flat color from Autopsy Dinner Date + A Picture Style1 - from Shaish
- You may enter only once per gijinka
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Posted: Tue Nov 16, 2010 11:48 pm
xxx . THE . GLACEON . 【 crystal 】xxx▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆ ▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆ ▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆ 
Crystal wandered the mall, alongside of her group of friends of punks, she being the only emo or scene girl. She was walking without any interest in her friends' conversation. She didn't bother to pay attention at all to what they were saying. In her mind...they were saying "Blah Blah Blah." Over and over again. Rather than talking in sentences. Her dark teal eyes wandered the crowded mall. She could see families, dressed in bundles and layers, previously outside in the winter chill. It was warm and toasty inside. Which wasn't to her liking. She liked coldness. A chilled room was nice. She felt children, racing down the walkway, cheerful smiles upon their faces. Some children tugged at their parents, pulling them to windows to point out the items they desired for the greatest holiday of the year. Christmas. Crystal enjoyed Christmas. It was a fun time. A good time of holiday cheer. And yet...she was always forced to come home for the holidays to spend time with her family. Her nagging mother, her drunk father, her annoying little sister, her goody goody brother, her judgmental aunt, her lazy uncle, and the boring grandparents. Christmas without her family would be the best present of all. She shouts and laughter of the children, racing through the crowds of busy shoppers. Shouting the words "Santa Claus."
Crystal glanced to her friends, who were mocking Santa. In her opinion, Santa was a pervert. Exhibit A: He knows when you are awake. Exhibit B: He knows if you've been naughty. Exhibit C: He invades homes. She didn't believe in the mythical fat man, but was embarrassed that she did when she was younger. Crystal remembered baking cookies with her mother. Sugar cookies, chocolate chip cookies, snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies, oatmeal raisin cookies. Placing the cookies on a plate, pouring the milk into a glass for Santa, putting carrots in the bowl for his reindeer. And when come Christmas morning, she would race down the stair case, stumbling. Anxious to see the presents she had received. The young Crystal would tear apart the wrapping paper and smile at each gift. That was before she found out the truth of the fake existence of Santa. She had been depressed for weeks. Disappointed that she had believed in a lie.
Crystal smirked. The children were so young. So faithful that Kris Cringle existed. The Kris Cringle who makes toys in the North Pole. The Kris Cringle who rides on a sleigh on Christmas Eve, with his trusty reindeer: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen. The Kris Cringle who travels across the world, giving toys and presents to good boys and girls.
Crystal and her friends came across a white picket fence. Fake white snow covered the carpet floors, adding a winter look to it. There were life size figures of Cairbou, or reindeer. Standing in the fake snow. A long red carpet extended through the exhibit, like a runway. Leading to a throne. A tall, gilded throne stood in the center of the picket fenced exhibit. The cushions made of red velvet. Seated in the throne, was the King of Christmas. Santa Claus. In his suit of red and white trim. A crisp white beard upon his face. His cheeks rosy with blush. A red sleeping cap on top of his head. A crowd of children and their parents stood in line, waiting. A tall, gilded throne stood in the center of the picket fenced exhibit. Some children were anxious to approach the man dressed as Santa, others were shy. She chuckled at the thought that only eight years ago, she would sit on his lap and think he was the real Santa. Then. ”Hey there! Why don’t you come and sit on Santa’s lap!” called out the fake Santa. Crystal turned her head to looked at him. Feeling suspicious as to why he called her out. Before she could walk away, her friends taunted and teased her, wanting her to sit on the man’s lap. Just for fun.
Crystal stared at her friends and spoke. ”No way. I’m not going!” “Come on, Crissie! What? You gonna set a bad example for these kids? Make them believe that you don’t believe in Santa?!” She sighed heavily. Then, her friends grabbed her arms, dragging her down the red carpet runway, which were lined with oversized, plastic candy canes. She squirmed and wiggled. Struggling out of her friends’ grips. She shouted, refusing to go up. But they ignored her. Then, they released her, right in front of the fake Claus. The glaceon looked up to the man. Standing shyly. “Hello there, sweetie,” spoke the man, with his fake Santa voice. Deep and Jolly. The man patted his lap with his white glove, demanding her to come onto his lap. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing her friends standing in the sidelines, whipping out their camera phones.
Sighing heavily, she gave in and approached Santa. Crystal lowered her rump to his lap, seating herself onto his lap, her legs swept over his thighs. The glaceon stared at the Santa, who wore a devious smirk behind his white beard. His eyes glinted with lust. “And what is your name?” he asked with his fake Santa impersonation voice. ”Crystal.” “Well…Crystal…have you been a good girl this year?” he asked. Hesitantly, she responded with a shrug.
Santa rested his hand on her leg casually. “Because I think you’ve been a naughty girl,” he said in his normal voice. Not deep and jolly. But smooth and yet rough. Hearing this, Crystal’s eyes widened. His hand began to slither up her thigh, reaching her butt cheek. She felt something hit her in Santa’s lap. Disgusted and grossed out, she shrieked. ”EW! YOU ******** PERVERT!” Feeling disgusted by his actions and his sexual harassment, she leaped off his lap. Running toward the aisle that led back into the mall shopping area. Rather than leaving, she removed a plastic candy cane from where it stood, gripping it tightly in her hands. She charged at Santa, hitting him violently and aggressively with the giant candy cane. Hitting him as he shouted help and for security. The perverted man fell to the ground, where she continued to hit him with her weapon. He began to tremble in fear. She leaned down and her hand reached for the beard upon his face. With one swift movement, she ripped the fake beard from his face. Unveiling his true identity. She turned to the children who were scared from the attack of the glaceon. Worried about their beloved Santa. The children shrieked in horror and sobbed in fear. She raised the beard in the air. ”KIDS AND PARENTS! BE WARNED! THIS MAN IS A ***** AND NOT THE REAL SANTA! HE COULD’VE MOLESTED YOUR CHILDREN. LIKE HE NEARLY MOLESTED ME!” she announced loudly. Then, two burly men dressed as reindeer gripped onto her forearms and dragged her from the area.
Crystal sat in her cell. In the mall’s jail cell. In her hand, was the photo of her, mercilessly beating Santa. She cringed at the sight of the man that touched her inappropriately. ******** Christmas.
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Posted: Wed Nov 17, 2010 4:49 pm
※яѻsαʅЬα нαιηѓэy※
Rosie practically glowed with glee over her younger sister Poppy, as she walked with her and her friends through the mall. She was ecstatic that her sister's genius couldn't do one thing she could - drive. And she lorded that fact over her as much as she could. Even if she drove their mom's van only when Poppy called and begrudgingly asked her to - a budding cook can't afford car insurance in the city!
It still amazed the almost-twenty year old that her sister, being a genius eleven year old in eleventh grade only because they wouldn't put her any higher, didn't have any high school friends. She was still hanging around with the girls her own age, swooning over the same guys, and not the hotties in her class. Rosie had been to Poppy's class, and though she wasn't much to fall for looks, there were a couple of guys...if only she were younger.
She had been called, however, to take them Christmas shopping, and while they got gifts for other friends unwrapped, or gifts for each other and hid them, they were giddy. The mall was filled with decorations, and songs pumped through the speakers, over-lapping as they entered the corridor again. Suddenly, the girls, minus Poppy, started to squeal and wiggle. For some reason, as Rosalba looked in the direction they were pointing, their parents had failed to let them know that Santa was not real. Poppy, however, had figured it out herself, rationalizing that a man couldn't fit down any chimney, no matter how he squeezed - laws of physics couldn't be broken.
She'd been six.
The excitement spread to Rosie, reminding her of herself, before she caught her parents putting gifts under the tree. The Hainrey's are all terrible liars, so she saw through their deception right away. These kids still had innocence, and that's what Rosie loved about them.
Winking at her sister, she strode easily toward the line, the girls following in awe, one daring to stand behind her. "What are you doing?" Poppy hissed, glaring at her sister and trying not to let her friends see.
She laughed, shaking her head, her headdress swaying. "Oh let me have some fun. You're friends will love it," she whispered back, grinning widely.
After an eye-roll from her sister, Rosalba was able to hop up into Santa's lap. "And what's your name?" the man boomed, his beard moving, indicating a smile.
She could tell it was a fake beard, but the belly was real, so were the soft eyes. Someone's grandpa, she thought, smiling before answering. "Rosalba," she replied, trying not to giggle, much to the disgust of her sister.
"Have you been a good girl this year?" he asked with a wink to Poppy.
He probably guessed she was older and knew he wasn't Santa - that there wasn't one. But an actor keeps the show moving, and Rosie was ready for a show. "Of course!"
"And what would you like for Christmas?" he asked, not realizing the stream he would unleash.
"Well...I'd like a new oven, the kind that lets you cook two things at different temperatures, a new icing set, a TV in my kitchen for the cooking channel to stream twenty-four-seven, new cupboards and an island - or maybe a peninsula. A new mandolin, not the kind you play, but the kind that slices food," she paused to breathe, and the man was about to speak before she finished. "Aaaaand a pony.
She beamed up at him, and he only chuckled, nodding. "Maybe not all of that, but we'll see," he said, trying not to laugh.
Before she hopped off, she turned, totally serious, and said, "But if nothing else, never let a cat cross my path ever again."
With that, she hopped down and made her way to the exit, where her sister was glowering. "You are so embarrassing! What if someone from the high school saw you?" she gritted out, her mouth in a tight frown.
"Oh, calm yourself," Rosalba laughed, putting her sister in a head lock and ruffling her pink barrel curls. "At least you can never blame me for being too adult."
Grumbling as they walked away, Poppy smiled a little, yanking the side of her sister's headdress.
The girl still on Santa's lap called after them as she ran off without finishing her wish list. That definitely got a glower from Poppy.
There is no love sincerer than the love of food
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