Robbie Baldwin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
walkingballpit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2016-12-12 06:02 pm
walkingballpit) wrote in legionworld2016-12-12 06:02 pm
Entry tags:
So deck those halls, trim those trees, raise up cups of Valor's Cheer.
Who| Anyone and everyone
What| A miscellaneously holiday party
Where| Habitat Deck, specifically Vance's section
When| Valor's Day, afternoon
Warnings/Notes| Feel free to use this, even if the thread doesn't involve Robbie. I'd suggest putting the name of the person you're going to thread with in the title. You can contact me if you want specific starters. I will be adding some as the week goes on and editing more into the description, but I thought I would get this up so that we have time to play before the RL holiday crunch hits.
The Crashpad of the New Warriors is, quite possibly, the worst superhero home base ever. It was originally a warehouse that had been repurposed rather haphazardly by teenagers, with random bits of furniture that had been pulled in from everywhere. Outside of the training room and computers, the most expensive thing in the place had been the enormous speakers that had come up to Robbie's waist.
They're still here - in fact, just about everything Robbie remembers about the place is fairly recreated here, down to the random stacks of boxes that they never bothered getting rid of. There's a few mystery stains missing from the recreated furniture, but the feeling of "I'm home" is uncomfortably thick when you can look at a chair and remember "saving" it from the curb.
Robbie's been busy today, getting decorated at a whirlwind pace. He's purchased hundreds of feet of garland, and everything has some on it. Speakers, couches, chairs. If it stood still for more than twenty second, it's swirled in the shiny. The high ceiling is swathed in it - the flight ring came in handy. Garland's even used to hang mistletoe down low enough for it to be noticed by the partygoers.
Those speakers work, shockingly, and he's done his best to track down holiday music for everyone. The 2600s were a particularly awful time for carols, but Mariah Carey and the Waitresses have surprised him with their horrific staying power. No one will ever escape Christmas Wrapping. Ever.
The large open space already looks crowded, because there are a dozen lifesize "holihols." As far as Robbie can tell, the future has abandoned the holiday chic of blow up figures and shapes made out of lights for round pads that create a variety of ornaments. There's Valor, Santa Claus, Superman, Elvis the Music Messiah, a snowman, Bat-Santa, and more. He has them gathered around the dance floor.
Oh, it's not a real dance floor. It's a cleared space that they might've dumped about ten pounds of glitter onto the floor. Um - and hung the dreidel disco ball above it. The store had a dreidel disco ball. A dance floor was necessary. Sunglasses are also recommended. Don't worry, Robbie has a basket of tacky holiday shades that transform you into Valor or Rudolph or... things he can't identify.
There's a tree, of course, loaded down with ornaments and holo ornaments and the brief attempt he made at a popcorn strand before he said forget it and ate the popcorn. The tree is 150% environmentally friendly - he's not sure if it's a tree or something that smells like fir. It's from the Andromeda galaxy. That's why he got it.
Not a table exists that isn't having its weight limit tested by food, punch bowls, and a family of knick knacks. That's AND, not or. There isn't a piece of chintz left between here and Neptune. The foods are tiny and half are pastries, and the drinks are crazy. Fruit punches, some fizzy, vegan egg nog, and there's a table with the alcoholic versions as well. Robbie intends to keep an eye on that table.
What he doesn't need to keep an eye on is Niels. The orange tabby is stretched out on a red-and-green catnip pad by the couch, awaiting belly rubs. As for Robbie? He's dressed like your worst nightmare.
What| A miscellaneously holiday party
Where| Habitat Deck, specifically Vance's section
When| Valor's Day, afternoon
Warnings/Notes| Feel free to use this, even if the thread doesn't involve Robbie. I'd suggest putting the name of the person you're going to thread with in the title. You can contact me if you want specific starters. I will be adding some as the week goes on and editing more into the description, but I thought I would get this up so that we have time to play before the RL holiday crunch hits.
The Crashpad of the New Warriors is, quite possibly, the worst superhero home base ever. It was originally a warehouse that had been repurposed rather haphazardly by teenagers, with random bits of furniture that had been pulled in from everywhere. Outside of the training room and computers, the most expensive thing in the place had been the enormous speakers that had come up to Robbie's waist.
They're still here - in fact, just about everything Robbie remembers about the place is fairly recreated here, down to the random stacks of boxes that they never bothered getting rid of. There's a few mystery stains missing from the recreated furniture, but the feeling of "I'm home" is uncomfortably thick when you can look at a chair and remember "saving" it from the curb.
Robbie's been busy today, getting decorated at a whirlwind pace. He's purchased hundreds of feet of garland, and everything has some on it. Speakers, couches, chairs. If it stood still for more than twenty second, it's swirled in the shiny. The high ceiling is swathed in it - the flight ring came in handy. Garland's even used to hang mistletoe down low enough for it to be noticed by the partygoers.
Those speakers work, shockingly, and he's done his best to track down holiday music for everyone. The 2600s were a particularly awful time for carols, but Mariah Carey and the Waitresses have surprised him with their horrific staying power. No one will ever escape Christmas Wrapping. Ever.
The large open space already looks crowded, because there are a dozen lifesize "holihols." As far as Robbie can tell, the future has abandoned the holiday chic of blow up figures and shapes made out of lights for round pads that create a variety of ornaments. There's Valor, Santa Claus, Superman, Elvis the Music Messiah, a snowman, Bat-Santa, and more. He has them gathered around the dance floor.
Oh, it's not a real dance floor. It's a cleared space that they might've dumped about ten pounds of glitter onto the floor. Um - and hung the dreidel disco ball above it. The store had a dreidel disco ball. A dance floor was necessary. Sunglasses are also recommended. Don't worry, Robbie has a basket of tacky holiday shades that transform you into Valor or Rudolph or... things he can't identify.
There's a tree, of course, loaded down with ornaments and holo ornaments and the brief attempt he made at a popcorn strand before he said forget it and ate the popcorn. The tree is 150% environmentally friendly - he's not sure if it's a tree or something that smells like fir. It's from the Andromeda galaxy. That's why he got it.
Not a table exists that isn't having its weight limit tested by food, punch bowls, and a family of knick knacks. That's AND, not or. There isn't a piece of chintz left between here and Neptune. The foods are tiny and half are pastries, and the drinks are crazy. Fruit punches, some fizzy, vegan egg nog, and there's a table with the alcoholic versions as well. Robbie intends to keep an eye on that table.
What he doesn't need to keep an eye on is Niels. The orange tabby is stretched out on a red-and-green catnip pad by the couch, awaiting belly rubs. As for Robbie? He's dressed like your worst nightmare.