Merry Christmas!

[ginoskein]

 

[Duxwing]

Merry Christmas to you, too. Your OP inspired me to write a Christmas-themed story, which I'd be glad if you'd finish as a bit of an improvisation game.

Jake, a longtime lurker, stands arguing with Duxwing in the INTP forum's kitchen as the two roast a wild boar they'd killed in the Black Forest just beyond the castle walls. From the crowds of sweater-covered guests milling about in the parlor and discussing the greatest problems of their time, a voice reaches out and grabs him by the ear. That of Anne, a relative newcomer. She'd presented the original idea of celebrating this ancient holiday, but now she seems a bit lost in the forest of red and green. Jake is no better off himself, but stands up nonetheless and walks to meet her in the kitchen door.

"Merry Christmas!" she calls.
"Merry Chriatmas to you, too!" replies smiling Jake as he stumbles through the bustling bakers, sauciers, scallions, and chefs to give her a hug; yet the boy's smile falls slack as he turns his head up to see the tiny crimson berries and deep green leaves of mistletoe hanging above their heads.

Ginoskein, who sits outside in the holiday mileu, cackles with laughter as she booms out the chortling song "Jack and-- MMPH!" The huge hand of Architect quickly covers her mouth, but the effort to save their skins comes too late. Now the whole forum gazes upon the two, or rather, one-and-half: Jake appears rather woozy.

-Duxwing

 

[EyeSeeCold]

 

[The Gopher]

“LOOOOVEEEE IS IN THE AIIIRRR” Cries The Gopher as he leaps out onto the balcony! Unfortunately the balcony was being renovated and after picking himself back up he looks up in glee. “So, how will these two love birds act! We must cultivate their love like a true fam... erhagsh!” Again the hand of Architect comes into play muffling all sound...

 

[Cognisant]

Has no idea what's going on but Architect only has two hands so he takes the opening.

"Jack and Anne sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I- THUMP!"

Again Architect, with a foot to Cog's face this time.

 

[Proletar]

Proletar was not engaged in the festivities. He sat in the corner, leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed. The faint glow from his pipe lit up his face and revieled his two watchful eyes, staring out into the dark forest. He knew that The Cat was soon to appear. The Cat, that had thinned out the numbers in the castle so many times before, that had raised so many stones in the courtyard. "It's hungry for blood", the ranger thought, puffing his pipe. "It's hungry for blood, and with these shinanigans, it's got the perfect justification."

 

[Cognisant]

Is this in the arena, no, damn.

 

[TheScornedReflex]

The Scorned Reflex needing to pee and unable to find the latrines decided to make a spectacle. Using the shadows, he found his way to the highest tower. Embracing a heroic pose he began to relieve himself aiming for those below, gleefully yelling "Merry ChristmaAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHH" slipping fom his perch he fall towards the ground below. Aiming for the great bowl filled with the Mystic Jelly of Zion to save himself.

 

[Duxwing]

Anne and Jake, cheeks aflame with ruddy blush, gaze down at their feet as their hearts pound beneath their holiday attire. Jake takes a step forward, butterflies flying shifting circles through his stomach, palms clammy with nervousness. Suddenly, he sees The Scorned Reflex hurtling down toward the courtyard! The butterflies turn to lead, and his knees buckle.

Anne yelps as Jake falls. She reaches out to catch his slumping form: success! His vest, an ocean of navy blue, rises up in waves and lets out the sigh of a rising tide. Cognisant, TheGopher, Architect, all look upon the two in anticipation.

-Duxwing

 

[Ex-User (5841)]

THD enters the castle, muddy and disheveled from his trek through the black forest. Brown swamp water squirts through holes in his hip waders with every splooshy step, leaving a trail through the halls. Stopping at the fireplace, THD nods at Proletar and grins as he pulls off his waders. A splash of water pours out and a smell... a mixture of foot funk and roadkill with a hint of cinnamon and overtones of exotic cheese, fills the air. "Duct tape came off and some swamp muck got in. They should dry out in a couple hours." Proletar glares at THD, raising his left eyebrow. Then, something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. "Why is Cog licking Architect's toes?" he asks, taking a drag from his pipe. THD shakes his head. "Must be an Australian thing. Perhaps he's malfunctioning."

"Who's the dude groaning in the puddle of blood?" asks THD. Proletar pulls the pipe from his lips and taps it against his foot, exhaling a wave of smoke that dissipates upward into the lofty void. "Not sure. He started screaming something about aliens, women's lingerie, and jelly, and then jumped from the balcony naked. Poor noob must be delirious."

"Ah, perhaps he's gotten into DoD's 2-CP stash. Poor sap." says THD, as he hangs his hat and turns, sauntering his way toward the mass of luxated humanity in the middle of the courtyard. He walks with a noticeable hitch... worse than before. All eyes turn to him as he approaches, while Jake, still woozy, steadies himself on Anne's shoulder. "The waters are rising. They will soon overwhelm the riparian floodplain, and if they keep rising at their current rate they'll be a mere three fathoms below the apex of the castle walls within the night. Thankfully Kuu's architectural design keeps them impervious to water, but the flow will be strong. We should prepare to settle in for the long haul; it'll take a fortnight to drain once it peaks."

THD pauses to brush a mosquito from his shoulder. "The snow is also falling faster, and I've never seen lightning like this during a snowstorm. Perhaps The Cat has brought this upon us."

 

[The Introvert]

A nervous voice speaks up, barely audible over the crackle of the fire and the groans of TheScornedReflex. It is that of The Introvert, whos presence in the courtyard was unbeknownst to all in the vicinity.

"Uhm, I am not sure who - or what - The Cat is. Might anyone be interested in, uhm, explaining its origins? Kind of like a campfire story? If not, it's al-"

The Introvert's words are quickly cut off, due to the glaring eyes of any and all that heard him speaking. Suddenly realizing the mistake he has made, he slowly backs away from the fire, and exits the courtyard, walking with his head hung. Averting all eye contact, he slips unseen back through the doors of the castle, and makes his way to the balcony to continue watching the festivities below.

 

[The Gopher]

"There's a c-c-cat?" The Gopher shivers at the thought; cats were not his strong point. He closed his eyes remembering back to a cold room, huddled in the corner fearing his life. The malicious beast stalked towards him fire in his eyes. The cackle of AlisaD haunting in the background as it came closer it... it... licked him. Feigning friendship, as if a spider winding in it’s pray... Suddenly brought back to reality by groans that were not his own The Gopher shuddered. Looking around he lost sight of The Introvert. Had he been taken? The Gopher panicked.

 

[Duxwing]

Architect, realizing that his efforts to give Jack and Anne some privacy were in vain, lets the three whose mouths he'd shut speak freely. Cognisant, Ginoskein, and Gopher all gasp for breath and give the old man a glare.

"So, mate, will ya tell 'em what the Cat is about?" asks Cognisant.

"Well, I've no choice, it seems," sighs Architect, "Long ago, the INFJ's of the Black Forest grew lonely: The cold, bare bark of their wood gave no comfort, the nights were long and pierced by the screeches of lonely, hungry lynxes, and the few mortals brave enough to venture into their misty forest had long since gone mad. So, they domesticated the wild cats and brought them into their warm fold, nurturing each generation of kittens into frisky, happy companions no higher than one's knee. And all was well: the INFJ's and their cats kept each other company, made the frigid, wet nights warmer, and kept watch for the feral beings that lurked in the marshy wood.

But the peace could not last. An INFJ named Cameron had cast off his mantle of warmth and kindness to bear a shining sword of logic across his back. Soon the others rejected him, looking upon his cold, calculating ways as foreign and evil.

"You stone-hearted fiend! How dare you bring such stricture upon the ineffable qualia of the human condition?" exclaimed one offended villager as Cameron huddled by a fire, psychology textbook in hand.

"Bah," Cameron fired back, "you'll never understand the intricacies of thought, the wonderful interplay of neurons, the beautiful complexity of the mind!"

And study Cameron did. Not only psychology, but philosophy, Latin, and biology, too. With Latin, he gleaned precious anatomical insights from the otherwise unread primers rotting beneath the library floorboards. With knowledge came theory, and from theory, practice: the creation of the ultimate feline companion.

And late one dark and stormy night-- rain always accompanies the feverish work of brilliant minds-- he brought a new life into the world. Soft and gentle, Mark, the world's first man-made cat awoke in Cameron's loving arms. Its tiny tongue licked at his face, searching for a nipple to bring it sustenance; Cameron lifted a bottle of kitten formula and tucked it between the newborn feline's lips. It drank greedily, soon draining the bottle to the dregs. With a father's smile, Cameron set the cuddly kitten down on his lab table and sighed in joy,

"What a wonderful life I have. An exciting lab, a delightful newborn kitten, and all the time in the world."

In time, the cat grew and grew and grew and grew! From ten inches to twelve, fourteen, sixteen, twenty-four, forty-eight, and on! By puberty's end, Mark was well over the size of a school-bus and left yard-deep footprints in the mud. The tribal elders brought Cameron before their council to discuss the gigantic cat's future.

"Listen, Cameron, please. Mark needs to leave. Doing so would be better for all of us." said the chief elder as he softly laid his hand on Cameron's shoulder.

"But not for me!" replied Cameron.

"We just want what's best for the village" answered another elder.

"You just want to take him away!" growled Cameron, "You just can't stand seeing me happy, can you? Ever since I took up logic you've all hated me, despised every move I made, begrudged me every thing I held dear, and now... now you want to take Mark away."

"Please, be reasonable." replied the chief. Cameron began to quiver in anger.

"How reasonable would you be if someone came to take your baby away?!" came Cameron's furious, shouting answer!

"Restrain him and take the cat by force" sighed the chief.

"You old fool. You just don't get it, do you? I'm the only one who Mark listens to, so if I say that he stays, he stays" said Cameron with a scowl.

The elders ignored his warning and opened Mark's stable. The cat roared and stormed through the forest, carving a path of broken trees and trampled branches in its wake. And it never heard from Cameron again, so now, it scours the plains for its missing owner.

Anne, you're an INFJ, right?"

"Yes, but how does my type pertain to this horrible tale?" she replied, holding the slowly awakening Jake in her arms.

"It wants you, I'm afraid. And it will not stop until it's either recognized you as Cameron, or strewn your guts across the field; we just happened to be next on its list" answered Architect.

Jake, who'd just returned to consciousness, fainted once again upon hearing Architect's fatal warning. Anne blushed and tried to find a place to set him down where he wouldn't be hurt. She set him down on a loveseat and sat down beside him; better to die among friends-- even new ones--than to leave this world alone, she figured.

-Duxwing

 

[Proletar]

- Something really is wrong, proletar said.
- Yes, it's in the air, THD answered with his right hand stroking his thick and long grown beard. -No reason to get excited though. We are well armed this time.

Heavy snow was still pouring from the heavens, burying everyone and everything below it, but the wind had stopped. The thick snow compressed the sound everywhere, forcing a silence through the castle that was feasting in glee earler in the evening. Thirty minutes ago, everyone in the castle had been too busy having a good time to care about their worries, and then the echo of The Cat had started to sweep the halls. Now, everyone was at the edge of their seat, ready to flee or defend themselves should the silent hunter appear yet again. The Cat always brings silence to the castle, and tonight it seemed to be striking through silence in itself. Through all the halls was silence, and all along the watchtower the bolder ones tried their best to gaze beyond the heavy snowfall.


Outside in the cold distance, a wild cat did growl. Two riders were approaching, and the wind began to howl again. "That's strange", Proletar said to THD. "As soon as we left the proximity, the wind blows as strong as ever." "Yes, I felt it too. Do you think The Cat..." Proletar cut him off the same time THD realized his mistake. "Continue, Proletar said". THD spoke; "The Cat is a cunning beast, but he can't control the weather. It's peculiar. Other castles are barely even aware of us, and we have very few enemies. Still it seems like the ones we have are trying their hardest to kill us. Do we have any more enemies?" Proletar had already pulled his list of contacts from within the blanket rolled up before him. "Well, there are the INTJ, but they are most probably busy comparing suits and careers this time of the year. The Religious are also busy, since they are actually celebrating the birth of Jesus. What about... No, I forgot to cross his name out. There we go" Proletar spoke the last couple of sentences to himself. "WHO?" THD demanded. "No one. I guess you haven't kept a list of contacts yourself. You see, when the cat comes, I have to cross people out."

THD suddenly looked at his fellow ranger as if he had seen a ghost. "Proletar, I... I think I have an idea of what's controlling the weather. Have you actually seen The Cat kill anyone? I haven't. I've just seen it carry people off screaming. And we haven't bothered sending any search-parties either. Do you think it's possible..." The next step was taken into empty ground, and before the sentence could be completed, they were both riding an icy slide into their ground with their horses screeching, and then suddenly stopping as an agressive ´thud´ came from the bottom of the hole in the ground. "I hear you loud and clear, Proletar answered as he lighted a match to navigate in the darkness. "Who knows our valley as well as us, and who are as invested in the arcane as us? We crossed out the INTJs before, and that leaves us with our own to control the weather. Those taken away have joined the silent hunter. The Cat not only kills them - he puts his soul into them. We must get back to the castle. Come on, there must be some kind of way out of here."

 

[Duxwing]

The two hapless rangers righted their mounts and heaved themselves upon the snowy saddles. Like smoky stacks of hoary midnight trains, their dark black steeds' breath rose in plumes of white.

"P-P-Proletar, it's c-c-cold d-d-down here; lend me your cloak."

"But I'd be cold and we'd be stuck once more."

"Then I-I'll ride w-w-with you, and we'll sh-share."

"Perhaps, but what will become of the other steed?"

"I-I-I d-don't m-much care; t-tie it to y-your horse and l-lead it."

And so they did: with other horse in tow and both men huddled under the patchy cloak, their steeds rolled along the treacherous valley floor. Their eyes scoured its walls for a purchase, their legs pressed hard against the horse's side to keep them upon their mount, and their minds sliced like shining knives through hundreds of moments past.

"Eh, proletar, have you got any ideas?"
"A bard that once passed through our drafty halls did leave a wandering song for us to sing," and forth the sweet notes rang, clear as the ice upon the rocks, loud as the the wind that howled high above:

In winter-tiding's starry night
See abbey fires burning bright
See the north-star's e'er fixed light
And you will find your home to-night"

"Proletar, wow. I think I heard the frost-sprites cry," whispered THD as he turned his gaze upwards through the crack; and his eyes pulled wide to drink the sea of shining stars that filled the midnight sky. One shone brighter than the rest: 'twas Polaris, star of the windy north.

And as THD laughed in cheer at this beautiful tapestry of the cosmos, proletar just nodded, for the star was shining, and it was good.

Anne sat by Jack, whose color came in like the tide: with ebbs and flows and the occasional, tremendous surge, but each wave closer than the last. She felt his cheek with the back of her fingers, softly smiling at his warmth. Architect and Cognisant, locked in a conversation about robots, saw them there as they roamed the parlor; Architect cracked a smile as he remembered his own children, soft and sweet. Cognisant stopped and bit his lip, thinking of his empty, mechanical heart. Architect, seizing the moment, put himself between the Australian automaton and their next destination. Cognisant turned, sighed at Architect's knowing eyes, and turned back to Anne again, who paid the two no heed.

"Crikey," he muttered to himself, scowling at his misfortune.

Architect put his hand on Cognisant's shoulder and whispered, "Use the Fe, boy, use the Fe." Quietly, Cognisant grunted and prepared himself to speak.

"So, how about those rob--" Cognisant winced in pain as Architect drove a finger into his back, "--chrom--" deeper it went, Cognisant grimaced and Anne giggled "--chrisanthem--" even deeper, Cog nearly howled in pain and Anne stifled a laugh, "CHRISTMAS, MERRY CHRISTMAS!".

Anne's hand couldn't keep it down any longer; peals of laughter filled the air! Cognisant sighed again and hung his head.

"Hey, don't feel bad. We all have things that we try to get over; oh, don't hide behind your mask, silly! For, for I could see the lonely pangs and empty shadows drifting through your soul as soon as I saw that doleful, drifting eye."

"Wow, really? Erm, I mean, ERROR, ERROR, "FEELINGS" DO NOT COMPUTE!"

Cog slumped over, feigning a power-down, and Anne let out a sigh as Architect led the poor fellow to a place where rum could oil the aching mainspring of his robotic heart.

-Duxwing