Print Page - 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023

Creative Corner => Events Board => Topic started by: wavewright62 on December 24, 2023, 01:31:53 AM

Title: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on December 24, 2023, 01:31:53 AM

Hello and welcome to our brand-new event for 2023, modelled on the '12 Days of Christmas' Tonight and over the next days (through 4 January Forum time), we will be featuring a new fanwork each day, celebrating our seasons and this time of year in our own corners of the fandom. The first night, 24 December, is the big Yule / Jul / Joulu celebration night in some parts of the world including Finland, so tonight our lovely mod Jitter is here to kick things off with the continuing adventures of Emil & Lalli's extended post-canon family Rakel and their child Lumi.

(http://i.imgur.com/olj7GB6.png)

Yule Peace

Lumi loved the Yule celebrations. Many days leading up to the Yule Feast were spent in busy preparations. Cleaning, baking, decorating, crafting of gifts, everything was so exciting! A welcome breather in the hustle and bustle was offered in the couple of nights when most of the village gathered to the centre square for Yule singing.

Lumi liked singing. Isi and äiti were both good singers, and uncle Onni had his kantele. Lumi was already learning to play! So, music was quite common in the Hotakainen household. But having everyone in the village sing together was powerful and filled her with a feeling of community.

Many of the Yule songs were strange. Some were happy and joyous tunes, and others were sad and haunting in a way that was different from runos, familiar and alien at the same time. There were several songs about snow and winter, and birds. “Sparrow in Yule morning” seemed to be one of the favourites of many adults, even though it was very sad! Lumi liked the happier ones better, such as, “Leave behind everyday worries” or “It’s five o’clock”.

Some of them were hard to understand. No one seemed to know for example what is a “manger”. Or why would people put on bells when moving around, abandoning all stealth and caution? But the adults just told her that many of the songs were from Before and maybe had made sense then. Weird that many songs from Before were so sad, even though everyone certainly had been all happy all the time! Isi sometimes said that the Old World had been stupid.

On the morning of Yule Eve, the roast was taken out of the oven and filled the house with its delicious scent. Next in were the casseroles (carrot, potato and rutabaga). They started the day with porridge and some final preparations. At noon they gathered at the square again for the declaration of Yule Peace. This year the radio worked well, so most of the text could actually be heard via radio from Saimaa. When parts of the broadcast broke up, one of the older people in Toivosaari, Marita, read the words for everyone to hear:

Today, by the grace of our highly honoured gods and beloved ancestors, we celebrate Yuletide as it marks the turning of another year.

And thus is declared a Peace of Yuletide for all, by advising everyone to embrace devotion in their celebration, and to behave otherwise quietly and peacefully.

If ever should anyone break this Peace and violate the Yule Feast by any illegal or improper behaviour, they shall be considered under aggravating circumstances to be guilty, and punished according to what the law and statutes prescribe for each and every crime and offence.

Finally, a joyous Yule Feast is wished upon all inhabitants of the country!

“Papa, what does “statute” mean?”

“Sorry dear, I don’t really know. But I do know it says you must behave nice and quiet!”

“Why would it say that? Yule is a happy festival! Isn’t it, mama?” Lumi ran after her mums. Rakel caught her in her arms and lifted her up to her lap.

“Yes, yes it is! But it’s also a time for remembering those who are not with us anymore.”

“Is that why we take candles to the graves later tonight?”

“Yes, that’s part of Yule as well.”

“And you know, Lumi,” isi added, “the ancestors join our celebrations. They also have a Yule sauna, and at night when we are sleeping, they share our feast.”

“Uncle Onni! What was Aunt Tuuri’s favourite Yule food?”

“Hmm… let me think.” The wind must have gotten to Onni’s eyes, “I suppose it might have been gingerbread. At least she had loads of those every year.”

“Gingerbread! I love gingerbread too!”

Vocabulary note: the word for Christmas in Finnish is joulu. As a word it doesn’t reference Christ or Christianity at all. So I think they would have just kept the name of the celebration even when the Old World gods went to oblivion and the midwinter was once again a celebration of new light and the Finnish gods and ancestors.

I wanted to include something of the contemporary Finnish Christmas, and these are things that may well have been preserved.

Concerts / sing along events of “Most beautiful Christmas songs” are very popular nowadays and Christmas songs are also probably among the most well-known songs, so it seems likely to me that the survivors would hold on to the songs even though some of the meanings would be lost. Much of it could be repurposed anyways, like the midwinter celebrations were repurposed for Christianity earlier. But I think some like Silent Night Holy Night could just remain even if it didn’t make complete sense anymore.

The declaration of Christmas Peace is an ancient tradition that was done in several Finnish cities in the Middle Ages. Turku has kept the tradition ongoing almost uninterrupted since the 1300s. It’s been broadcast for as long as there has been a broadcasting company in Finland. Nowadays it is televised, and many watch it live (myself included) at noon on the 24th December.

It’s also shown in several countries abroad as well as in the YLE streaming service. I include a youtube link for 2019 declaration (it is always the same, same songs and the same text, current text is from 1905). The reading of the declaration itself starts at about 6 minutes
https://www.joulukaupunkiturku.fi/en/christmas-city/declaration-christmas-peace

I am certain many people could recite the declaration from memory, especially if a few tried to do it together, so at first it would be true to the original (or rather, the year -1 version. I tweaked the text a bit as the Old World gods would not be invoked in around Y108. And the translation sounded les pompous than the Finnish text 😊

Other traditions include joulusauna, bringing of candles to the graves, and of course the feasting. The most iconic foods are ham (I think the Hotakainens are having lamb though), carrot, rutabaga and potato casseroles, and various kinds of pickled and smoked fish. The porridge in the morning is nowadays rice, Lumi and her family are having barley porridge.

Finally, here are a few of the songs. The most beloved Christmas songs are either gloomily beautiful or just gloomy. Sorry about that.

Varpunen jouluaamuna (Sparrow in Christmas morning)

Arkihuolesi kaikki heitä (Leave behind everyday worries)

Sylvian joululaulu (Christmas Song of Sylvia)

tonttujen jouluyö (Night of the tonttus)

Kello löi jo viisi officially Joulukirkkoon (It’s 5 o’clock AM) – a cappella version

On hanget korkeat nietokset (There’s snow and lots of snow)

Tonttu

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Keep Looking on December 24, 2023, 02:42:06 AM

Jitter, I love your imagining of Finnish Yule/Christmas traditions in the SSSS universe (and the children's misconceptions about what the old world was like!). I'm listening to the christmas songs you attached right now.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: gjuerne on December 24, 2023, 10:03:41 AM

Thank you, Jitter! I love descriptions of Solstice/Christmas traditions and it is a fun speculation on how they might have evolved in the SSSS universe.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on December 24, 2023, 10:36:10 AM

Thank you Keep and Gjuerne! And extra thanks for our esteemed moderator for running the event and in my case also for including the note about who the people in the story are, because I totally forgot to do that. It’s in my Toivosaari continuum.

Lumi is the firstborn of the Hotakainen household, consisting of Lalli and Emil, now married, with Rakel (a reporter, originally from Iceland) and her Finnish wife Inka. They all live together forming a what is sometimes called a clover family. So isi is Lalli, pappa is Emil and äiti is her birth mother Inka. Since Inka is also a noita, it is no wonder Lumi is later a student of magic. Onni also lives at the homestead but he has his own house there.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on December 25, 2023, 02:02:10 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/ZxZICxC.png)

On this second day of our Christmas event, dmeck7755 gave to us - a lovely poem and best wishes of the season!

(https://i.imgur.com/R4lIwyA.png)

The longest night had the moon aglow
The silence of the forest and the shadows below.

There is time pause, to reflect and ponder
I wish for next year to be happy and not so somber.

We think about this past year, the sorrows and tears
Wars, politics and anger playing to our fears.

People are hurting, people are sad
We have each other here and this makes me glad

We are from all over around the globe
Different ages, and people and groups all told

We have fun, chat and lend a listening ear
All these people, we hold so dear.

We have our little spot here so bright
We try as we can to keep up the light

I am grateful for you the forum
We laugh, we cry, we talk, we have fun

We treat each with respect and more
These are the things worth fighting for

I wish all a glorious yule.
Or any other holiday that means the most to you.

(https://i.imgur.com/R4lIwyA.png)

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Keep Looking on December 25, 2023, 05:18:03 AM

Dmeck, I very much share the sentiment in your poem! A good yule or otherwise to all here.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on December 25, 2023, 08:13:24 AM

Dmeck, thank you! This is beautiful! We try as we can to keep up the light, yes we do!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Róisín on December 25, 2023, 08:46:41 AM

We do try! And thank you, dmeck, for a fine poem.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: thorny on December 25, 2023, 11:52:50 AM

Praise to light shining in darkness!

(And for darkness, which lets us see the light. But some kinds of darkness we don't need.)

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: dmeck7755 on December 25, 2023, 01:07:28 PM

Thank you all

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: thegreyarea on December 25, 2023, 04:29:36 PM

I'm amazed! :sparkle: O_O :sparkle:

(Yes, I'm aware that's my usual reaction. Yet it happens again and again with this amazing lot)

Thank you so much, Jitter and dmeck! And Wave, of course. I can't wait for the next one :) <3

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on December 26, 2023, 02:23:35 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/QPzo8sd.png)

We come to Day 3 of our 12 Days adventure, and I present to you a lovely story exploring Tuuri's possibilities as a ghost bird, written by none other than thegreyarea. Where and when would you go, if you had the ability? Enjoy!

The Right Place

"I'm tired."

"Sorry! I don't want to bore you."

"Silly ghost bird! I'm never bored when I'm with you! It's just... we had a long day, and I need some sleep!"

"Oh, sleep! Of course! I see. It's really late. You must rest. Carrying that heavy braid the whole day..."

"You keep mocking my braid because you wish to have one! But then you'd be a silly and weird ghost bird!"

"I would not! Apologize now, Mr. Reynir Árnason, or this weird ghost bird will haunt you and your freckles for the rest of your days!"

"Fine! You would be a silly, weird and lovely ghost bird!"

"Hum... That's better... It will be enough, for now."

"Anyway, aren't you tired? Birds sleep too."

"Nope. I can do something akin to sleep, if I really want, but it's not the same... It's just like breathing. I can do it, but I really don't need to."

"Or flying, right? I saw you flying, or just hovering in the air, without using your wings."

"That's true."

"See? Weird! And what do you do when people around you are sleeping?"

"Most times I patrol the area, trying to spot any dangerous critter."

"And when we are in a safe area?"

"I still circle around. I like to observe things done before the Rash, those big buildings, bridges, factories... I try to guess why they were made that way... And sometimes I just enjoy the view from up there."

"You must feel lonely."

"I'm already used to it. And sometimes interesting things happen."

"Like what?"

"Hum... You must believe me, because this is one really strange story."

"Promise."

"It happened when I was alone with Onni, hunting those bears, before we reunited. We found that lehto, the one where we all stayed later, and I was so happy! We knew the bears had found a place somewhere in Joensuu, so I convinced my brother to stay for two days. He really needed some rest."

"He surely looked like that when we found you both."

"You saw him after those days. He looked much worse before that."

"So Onni got some much needed sleep, and you were free to wonder a bit."

"Yep! I knew he would sleep for a whole day, or more. I began by going around the island, and next I crossed the lake, to Joensuu and back. Then I decided to check how far I could go, and how fast. I thought I might even reach Savonlinaa, if I flew really really fast. And I did!"

"Sounds great!"

"It was! And didn't take long, actually. Next I flew to our previous home, Keuruu. I was getting good at flying fast."

"And you got there easily? It's a long journey."

"In no time. Everything was just as I remembered from when we left. There was just this odd thing... It was too cold for summer. But I didn't care much about it. I still had a lot of time, so why not go further? A good friend of mine wanted to find if there were palm trees in Bornholm..."

"No! You didn't... Seriously? You went as far as Bornholm?"

"Oh, I was just getting started. But we'll get there. So, I arrived at Bornholm..."

"Wait! How did you find it? It's a small island in the middle of the sea."

"I'm not sure. Being a bird helps, I suppose. Birds do have a good sense of orientation... I just knew the way."

"Fine! Now, please tell me about the palm trees."

"I'm sorry, my dear, but I couldn't find a single palm tree in Bornholm. But I found something stranger, at this time of the year. Snow. Lots of snow covering the fields."

"On summer? That can't be!"

"Sure. I was confused, and wanted to explore more, therefore I went even further, into the silent world."

"You didn't go to Denmark, did you?"

"No, I had no wish to come closer to the place where... You know. So I turned south, and accelerated! I'm sure I was going faster than an airplane from the old times. Things got weirder then."

"How?"

"The ground below started to change quickly. There was snow, and then there wasn't. Minutes later everything was covered in white again. I landed briefly. Once the ground was covered in flowers, the second time there were trees losing their reddish leaves... The old buildings and roads were also in better shape."

"That's odd. You were deep into the silent world."

"Yes, somewhere in old Germany, I suppose. The further I moved, the faster those changes came, and then... There were fires and explosions everywhere, smoke rising from cities... I'm a ghost, nothing can harm me, but it was scary, so I got away from there even faster, and soon everything was peaceful again. Actually, too peaceful, and even weirder."

"What do you mean?"

"I looked down and there were cars moving on the road below. Not one or two, but dozens! And many trucks, and I saw an airplane flying over me. I began asking if we were all mistaken. How was that possible? How that could exist in the middle of the silent world?"

"You are right. It is weird."

"I knew I was probably somewhere over France, so why not check a really big city? I always wanted to see Paris."

"Paris?"

"France's capital, millions of people, big tower in the center. And it was all that, and much more. Traffic noise, thousands gathered in busy streets, airplanes, helicopters, ships up and down the river... All that and no monsters. People walked, got in and out of cars and buses, talked, smiled... Can you imagine?"

"Like Reykjavik, but much bigger, I guess."

"Much, much bigger. I got closer to a guy reading the newspaper on a bench. Couldn't read their language, but I saw the date. 2001. On the old world's calendar, the Rash hit on 2013, I believe. Somehow I was in the past, more than a hundred years before now."

"That's impossible!"

"What would you say about a talking ghost bird? Yeah, impossible. Yet I'm here, speaking to you, as sure as I was there, in 2001 Paris, watching the sunset on a park filled with people... It should be close to Christmas, their Yule, and the city was decorated with so many lights... I wish you where there."

"So do I... Someone saw you? Was there any mage among all those people?"

"Not that I noticed. And I wanted it so much! I wanted to tell them to enjoy each day, to appreciate the absence of fear... and, most of all, I wanted to warn them about the Rash."

"But... Would that be possible? To change the past? Besides... We wouldn't be here, would we? And if we were not..."

"Yes, I know. A paradox. What would happen? Can it happen, or something, somewhere, would change to counter what I did? Anyway, I tried, again and again, but no one was able to see, or hear me. After some time I quit, and flew away."

"And how did you know if it was possible to come back?"

"I didn't. I was terribly worried. Would I arrive at the right time when I returned to Onni? Or time would keep moving back, and I'd never see him again? The only way to know was trying... but before that I wanted to see more. I recalled another place that I always wanted to visit. The Pyramids."

"Hey, I know those! They were in the cover of a book in the library."

"I started flying south, and east, and as I moved fast the ground started to change again. It was night, so I could see each city's street lights... so beautiful... But as I flew there were fewer and fewer lights, and soon all I could see below were some twinkling fires. I assumed that moving back in time had brought me before lamps were invented."

"But you still knew the way."

"Yes. I crossed lands and seas, dodged a few storms, and finally they were there, under a full moon. They are immense, you know? Like... mountains. And there was a large city nearby, crossed by a river. Lots of people, and cats!"

"Did the cats spot you?"

"One even tried to catch me! And there were many amazing palm trees."

"I wish I'd seen it..."

"I spent some time there, and even landed at the top of the highest pyramid. A view that I'll remember as long as I liv... I mean... Forever, I guess."

"What happened next?"

"I was flying around, gathering the courage to go back and find out my fate, when I spotted a small group. They were riding some funny horses and carrying torches. Clouds blanketed the area, so it was pretty dark. They seemed lost. I could see some lights, probably a small town, far away, behind some hills. I guess they wanted to get there."

"And..."

"Well, I was there, hoovering and thinking how my dear Reynir would love to help those people, and how sad it was that I couldn't do anything, when one of them pointed in my direction and shouted something in a strange language."

"They could see you?"

"It surely looked like it. And, to my surprise, two others joined him, gesticulating and speaking loudly. I still don't know how they managed to see me, but I did know that you wouldn't waste a chance to help. I opened my wings, so they could see me better, and drifted towards the small town."

"And they followed? You are so small. Probably looked just like a tiny dot in the sky."

"I moved slowly, of course, and they came, always pointing and speaking, until we arrived at the little town's outskirts, and they took shelter on a small cave."

"Great! What happened next?"

"I decided to fly straight back to Onni, and, as you can guess, it worked. As I came closer time accelerated in the right direction. When I arrived my brother was still asleep."

"I was asking what happened with the people after they got into the cave. Didn't you try to talk to them, since they were able to see you?"

"Oh, that! I did get inside the cave. There was some cattle resting close to the entrance, and I hid among it, while trying to understand their language. But I couldn't, and was getting increasingly worried about coming back to the lehto, so I left."

"Well, at least you helped."

"Yes. And, you know, I believe that I took them to the right place."

"Do you? Why?"

"They seemed pretty happy to meet the people inside the cave, a couple and their newborn."

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Róisín on December 26, 2023, 08:03:35 AM

Such a sweet, sweet story!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: dmeck7755 on December 26, 2023, 09:32:50 AM

Grey, love the story.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Keep Looking on December 26, 2023, 09:35:54 AM

Very Christmassy, Grey, and a fascinating story concept!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on December 27, 2023, 02:09:19 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/agUGGi3.png)

On the fourth day of Christmas, Sol gave to me, a marvelously soulful Onni!

(https://i.imgur.com/h4HMLjD.jpg)

Mod's commentary: One of my favourite Onnis in canon was the teary-eyed Onni sleeping rough on the Västerström's doorstep, and Sol has captured his look perfectly, I think.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Keep Looking on December 27, 2023, 03:12:05 AM

Oh wow, that's an amazing Onni!! Very emotive

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on December 27, 2023, 05:00:44 AM

Grey, that was unexpected but sweet!

Sol, your Onni is marvelous. You have captured both his Onni look and a wintry look perfectly!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Sol on December 27, 2023, 02:58:38 PM

I'm glad! I really enjoyed painting this

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on December 28, 2023, 12:40:54 AM

(https://i.imgur.com/H7HWzTG.png)

You know what we all associate with the 28 December?
Oh. I was hoping you knew.

Our 5th day falls during that liminal time that are technically still part of the holidays for many, but is not itself a holiday. Chores still need to get done, though. So today, let me honour Mr Just-Get-It-Done-Even-If-It-Is-a-Thankless-Task, Mikkel Madsen.
(https://i.imgur.com/sC91p92.jpg)

My condolences to thegreyarea and others who are back at work, and a very happy birthday to those who celebrate.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on December 28, 2023, 05:51:58 AM

Hmmm, Mikkel reminds me that I should do some laundry… and is gorgeous in the meantime! Thank you Wave!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Keep Looking on December 28, 2023, 06:50:30 AM

Wow, what a gorgeous artwork Wave! I did in fact have work yesterday (the 27th), but as I'm a student I only work part-time so today I got to relax again.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: dmeck7755 on December 28, 2023, 11:04:33 AM

Wonderful art!! I have laundry also ;)

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Mirasol on December 28, 2023, 11:39:41 AM

On the fifth day of Christmas the forum gave to me,
five drying shirts
four sighs from Onni
three ghostbird timejumps
two shining lights
and a playlist for the Hotakainen family
(Lol any of you poets feel free to do a better job at this... xD)

Amazing works, everyone!!! And I hope everyone had a nice Christmas/whichever holiday they celebrate!

Jitter, I did a double take at the "tonttujen jouluyö"-song, because a rather famous childrens-songwriter from Germany has made a song with exactly that melody (https://youtu.be/taVa8lY1eeA) (and the tip-tap-motif). Only it´s not a Christmas-song, but about some kids getting scared by noises in the night which turn out to be their dad getting snacks. Well well well, seems that song wasn´t as original as I thought. Nice to find its origins. :.D
And a very sweet story to go along with all the music!

dmeck, a lovely poem! I also agree very much with the sentiment. <3

Grey, a nice adventure of Tuuribird! She couldn´t help everyone but at least she has some memories of real palmtrees to show for it!

Sol, this is beautiful! Both the expression and the way you painted the texture of the different materials!

Wave, thank you for hosting this!!! And that is a really nice picture, you can really see the wind in the scene!
As to whether this day counts as a holiday, I still don´t have classes until the 7th, but I also have Covid right now so I can´t really enjoy it... -_-

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on December 28, 2023, 12:20:32 PM

Mirasol, great filking!

The song Tonttujen jouluyö is listed for a Wilhelm Sefve aka Svensson but I have no info whether Wilhelm is Swedish, Finnish, German or other. We have quite a lot of Christmas songs that are originally German, although I hope most of the ones I listed are originally Finnish or at least the words are original rather than translation. We do of course get a lot of the Anglosaxon songs, both in English and in translation, but I didn’t care to include those as I’m pretty sure everyone has already heard them sufficiently many times by the 24th :reynir:

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on December 29, 2023, 01:44:07 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/xpgM8TK.png)

The classic song from which this event takes its name is chock-full of gifted birds, which is appropriate for today's gift to us, from our esteemed admin Keep Looking.

Keep's notes: "Nokikana means coot in Finnish. The Eurasian coot is found across parts of Europe, Asia, Africa and Australia, including both my home and in Finland.

I hope you all don't mind I haven't written a poem this time! I wasn't in a particularly poetic mood, so you get to try my first shot at fanfiction instead."

Year 87, Keuruu

Keuruu was a place of routines. Lalli liked routines.

He knew when he had to get out of bed and when he had to report to the scouting headquarters. He knew the different scouting routes, and how long he was expected to patrol for, and what food the canteen would serve when he got back.

Tuuri said Keuruu was boring and stifling. She wanted to see new and exciting places full of different people - like Reykjavik, wherever that was. Sometimes she would say these things when Onni was around, and they would start arguing. Lalli thought Tuuri was being stupid. Life was easier if he let the routines carry him from day to day, falling into a safe and predictable rhythm.

There were other rhythms in Keuruu too. Grandma had said it was important for mages to pay attention to the changing seasons and the cycles of living creatures. Keuruu was not Saimaa where the lakes and islands were endless, but the land was still alive here.

As summer approached and the days got longer, Lalli’s return route from second shift night scouting would take him by the lakeside just as dawn was breaking. Lalli would run the last few hundred metres back to the scouts headquarters to the squawks and honks of the waking waterbirds. Ducks, geese, even swans, and flocks of white-beaked nokikana.

Every May, the nokikana would make their scraggly little raft nests out in the reeds. Soon enough, the chicks would be out following their parents, their bright red and yellow heads like tiny flames on the water.

One time after Lalli had a night off, Tuuri woke him up from napping, insisting that he should “go outside” and “talk to people”. Lalli thought this was stupid, as he was perfectly happy napping. Still, he let Tuuri drag him to the canteen, where he picked at his food while Tuuri chatted to some other skalds. Afterwards, they went out to the lakeside. The nokikana were out on the lake with their chicks. Tuuri turned to Lalli with an excited look, like she’d just remembered something.

“You know Lalli, we have a book about birds here in Keuruu. It says that nokikana are found on three different old-world continents! You could travel thousands and thousands of kilometres away from Keuruu, and you might still spot them.”

“Mrr.” Lalli didn't really understand what Tuuri was so excited about. Of course birds were found in other places. Wasn’t that how birds worked?

“Lalli? Are you listening? Imagine all the places we could see nokikana… if only we could get out of Keuruu! We’ll make it someday, Lalli!”

Tuuri grabbed Lalli by the shoulders. Lalli twisted until he was free, and ran back to his room. Tuuri was getting weird. This meant that it was better to leave, or she’d start saying weird things around Onni again. Lalli was already seeing the nokikana here. Why would he need to see them anywhere else?

Year 91, Saimaa

Lalli was pretty sure this house was safe. There were no traces of trolls and everything was surprisingly tidy, despite being understandably run-down after nearly a century of abandonment. Maybe the owners had moved out before the rash had happened.

The others would be glad. It was very rainy. Emi was probably whining about his hair already.

Still, Lalli made sure to check the big chest of drawers in the main room. Sometimes small vermin beasts would nest in drawers and cupboards. Other times, they might have food or interesting items. Like the funny colourful cube Lalli had found in that strange old-world building with shelves full of small objects.

Unfortunately, the drawer only contained a strange, shiny piece of paper. It was coated in a transparent substance that was peeling at the corners. On one side was a picture of a nokikana paddling in an unfamiliar-looking lake. The other side had a message, slightly blurred by water damage and the wrinkling of the transparent covering.

Thankfully, most of the message was in Finnish.

“Dear Täti Lilja - Merry Christmas from Australia!”

Lalli paused. He was unsure what “Merry Christmas” meant, although he was sure that he’d seen it somewhere. Maybe. He would ask Emil about it later. He was also unsure of what Australia was, although he assumed it was some kind of foreign, old world country. Like “Singapore”. Tuuri had always gone on about some place called “Singapore”, after she’d found a booklet about it by someone called “Lonely Planet”. Apparently it had been a city full of old world technology, and travellers from other parts of the world could “fly” there. Lalli wasn’t sure how they were able to fly places. Tuuri had tried to tell him about old world cities and technology, but all Lalli knew from the photos in her booklet was that they were dangerous places full of tall buildings that probably had lots of trolls in them. Old world people were very stupid like that.

“My studies here have been going well, and I’ve made a few friends. The weather is very hot though! It feels strange to have warm weather at Christmas. December is still winter to me!”

Lalli considered this line carefully. He was not aware that months could be other seasons. Foreign countries were weird.

“There’s a nice lake near my accommodation, and I’ve been going for walks every weekend. I know you were probably wanting pictures of interesting Australian animals, but the nokikana feel like old friends, and I can’t help taking photos. They call them “coots” here, which I found funny. Still, it’s nice to see some familiar wildlife. It’s like a bit of home has followed me here.”

Lalli flipped the paper over again. He looked at the nokikana, paddling past a strange papery tree trunk that stood in the water. Even in a foreign country, it looked just like the ones in Keuruu.

Tuuri had wanted to see nokikana all over the world. Lalli wondered if she’d have been excited to see this picture. Lalli had thought that birds would be the same anywhere, but even some of the birds in Denmark had been different.

If souls were birds when the swan took them to Tuonela, Lalli thought that maybe Tuuri’s soul was the kind of bird that travelled to different places. It probably didn't work like that. Probably the swan just took the souls to rest, and nobody worried about what kind of bird they were. This felt like a stupid thing that Emil would say. Still.

Lalli carefully placed the picture back in the drawer, and ran outside to bring the others in.

…

Somewhere else, a small white bird flew above a strange looking lake. Travelling this far was probably risking her freedom a bit, but Tuuri had always thought that some things were worth the risk.

Besides, physical distance didn't matter so much in this form. As far as Onni knew, she was just scouting for him. She would return soon.

For now, Tuuri swooped over the flocks of nokikana that gathered on these distant waters. She heard the piercing whistle-call of odd-looking black ducks, and the warble of a small brown bird in the reeds. Trees with sheets of pale paper-like bark stood on the waters’ edge, and the swans among them were black instead of white. Even if their quest didn't work out, it was worth re-awakening just to see this place, where everything familiar was somehow new all over again.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on December 29, 2023, 01:45:47 AM

She says she didn't write any poetry, and yet I am taken with the poetic imagery evoked - little flames gliding on the water ooooo! A very successful first fanfic indeed.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on December 29, 2023, 06:09:29 AM

I agree with Wave, very poetic prose!

Apparently I’m allergic to nokikana, sniff. Oh the precious children, both of them! (At first this read precious chicken, which also would have worked, nokikana literally translates to soot chicken).

On a personal level, just this past summer I have enjoyed seeing coots in Switzerland and Italy. I’m not 100% sure whether I’ve ever seen them in Finland, but when enjoying their company I was aware that they live in Finland too (I just checked, I probably haven’t seen them in Finland, they are fairly rare here, despite which they are hunted!).

So too points, I think they are very pretty and I fully agree with Tuuri’s awe at thinking about the wide world. I’ve also been deeply moved by this, for example a few years back when we were talking about the starry skies here on the Forum, and Keep mentioned Orion being so bright, and then Orion was up and magnificent here too and I thought about me and Keep looking at the same stars at the opposite ends of the Earth and then I was allergic to stars 🥲

Yeah so thank you Keep for this lovely piece of not poetry, and Wve again for organizing this. And all of you Forumites for being here!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on December 30, 2023, 01:46:51 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/OWx6ubR.png)

On this 7th Day of our event, I am delighted to present to you this hot take on tradition from gjuerne

gjuerne's intro, “In honor of Reynir’s Icelandic heritage, Mikkel and Sigrun have dressed up as Gryla and one of her Yule Lad sons. Mikkel, skald that he is, knows that although their modern depiction is quite benevolent their old world origins are much less so. And thus Mikkel contemplates the candles he has added to the Yule porridge Sigrun is about to serve the crew. He is delighted that he has accomplished the traditional mischievous aspect of the festivities.”

(https://i.imgur.com/aQa3L2Q.jpg)

Please note that your humble mod is guffawing. {ahem}

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: tehta on December 30, 2023, 01:49:24 AM

Happy holidays all! I am just catching up here, as I have been busy... writing...
Anyway, it's been fascinating! I feel like all the contributions fit together so well. Especially the two Tuuri-stories, which seem to share her exploratory bird-spirit. (And they're both so well constructed, as stories, with a lovely emotional payoff.)
Dmeck's poem looks out over the world as well, with hope that seems similarly Tuuri-like.
And then we have the more domestic side of things, with jitter's Finnish Yule (it's fascinating to hear those songs!), and with those two drawings of Onni and Mikkel looking just as one would imagine them looking on their relevant days. (Or at least as I would imagine them looking: Onni broody, Mikkel busy.) I also appreciate the skill that went into both the pictures. As others have already mentioned, the coziness of Onni's outfit and the wind in the laundry both come across really well.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Keep Looking on December 30, 2023, 05:04:38 AM

Gjuerne, it's great to learn about an Icelandic tradition and your illustration is wonderful. I'm sure the crew will very much appreciate the traditional candle porridge as well ;)

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on December 31, 2023, 02:52:35 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/NQv6gVm.png)

On this 8th Day, New Year's Eve, we get a post-canon look at another tradition, courtesy of tehta!

The whole thing was stupid.

Lalli had never understood why the New Year fell on a random winter evening. Ending the old year on the night of the solstice, the moment when the days would start getting longer and safer, would at least have made some sense, but no, it had to end on this pointless day, a few days later. And why was the change in the number of the year, something that made no difference outside of stupid official documents, celebrated, anyway? Stupid.

And then – stupidest of all – why should this celebration include some dumb attempt to predict what the next year would bring? What was the point of thinking about the future so much? If the future turned out anything like the past, it was sure to bring something terrible, sooner or later.

Stupid past, stupid future. Right now, Lalli much preferred the present. The inn’s common room was warm and dry, and, tonight at least, empty of strangers: the staff were off celebrating with family, and even the other guests had gone away somewhere. So, the whole evening would be spent with people he didn’t hate. They would eat the non-disgusting food – and cake! – that some of the others were now fetching. And then everyone would act happy, which Lalli wouldn’t hate seeing, either.

Well, almost everyone would act happy: Onni would surely find everything even stupider than Lalli did. He might even cry. He was already facing away from the room, peering out of one of the frosted windows.

But there was nothing Lalli could do about that.

He had tried! He’d spent a whole dream trying to talk Emil out of his stupid idea. But while Emil had agreed with his first point – yes, life was full of bad surprises – he had followed this up by declaring that the badness of life was all the more reason to try to remain hopeful about the future. Which was clearly illogical nonsense, even by Emil’s weird standards. But then, it was entirely possible that Emil had not been thinking clearly, too excited about the idea of using fire to tell the future. Which was… fine, if it made him happy.

He certainly looked both happy and excited now, kneeling there in front of the fireplace, fiddling with his pots and candles. Lalli sighed.

Emil probably heard him; anyway, he looked up.

“Have you remembered anything more?” he asked. “About the shadow meanings? I still know only about five.”

Lalli shrugged.

“Oh, too ba– But wait!” Emil sat back on his heels. “Maybe you could ask Onni for help? He must know all about this wax-reading thing. Since he is a mage, and– I know you are one too, but…”

“It is not a magic thing,” Lalli told him. “It’s just a stupid game. For children.”

Predictably, this failed to deter Emil. “Onni!” he exclaimed, then, once Onni had turned – slowly – he indicated the messy items in front of him, and switched to Finnish. “You can help?”

Onni shrugged.

Still, Emil persisted. “You did this… game? When children?”

The warm air suddenly grew heavy. Onii must have felt it too: his shoulders tensed. “I did. I had to.” His voice was very quiet. “Tuuri liked it.”

There was a gasp, and a clang. Emil had dropped something.

In the silence that followed, Onni turned back towards the window.

***

“Okay, now dump it all onto the table! But gently, without breaking anything! No, not that table, the fancy one!”

While Reynir attempted to follow Sigrun’s orders – visibly struggling to identify which of the almost-identical common-room tables qualified as “the fancy one” – Mikkel set down his own bag by the door and walked towards Emil, who seemed to be beckoning at him frantically from one of the room’s dark corners.

Well, this should be amusing. Mikkel raised an anticipatory eyebrow before saying, “Don’t tell me you’ve burned yourself already?”

“What? No.” Nevertheless, Emil’s eyes shone with pained distress. “Mikkel, I have fu— I have seriously messed up. I just found out… Onni just told me, oh, why didn’t I realize, this whole wax melting tradition is reminding them of… of Tuuri. Because she enjoyed it. And–”

“Emil. Take a deep breath.” As Emil obeyed, Mikkel did likewise. He had been wrong. This was not amusing at all. “And think about this. We are in Finland. It’s the festive season. A time usually spent with family. Do you think your game is the only thing that reminds our Finnish friends of Tuuri?”

“No, but–”

“And what do you think they should do about this? Avoid anything that could trigger a memory?” Mikkel still remembered that first post-Kastrup Yule. The decorations, the lights, the bustle, all so familiar– but so different, changed by the absence of a familiar voice. “That is no way to live. It’s much better to carry on normally, and hope, in time, to find new things to remember.”

“So… you think I should go ahead?”

“Absolutely! I have high expectations for your fortune-telling activity. I am sure it will be most memorable.”

“What are you–” Emil’s eyes, narrowed in suspicion, suddenly widened. “No, Reynir, put that down! It’s hot, and– Mikkel, please, explain things to him. I tried, in Swedish AND Finnish, but I have clearly failed.”

This familiar request, for a simple translation, was a relief. “Careful, that’s hot wax,” Mikkel told Reynir in Icelandic, taking the pot away from him.

“I can see that, but why is Emil melting it? Is he trying to make your soup?”

“Emil could never hope to recreate my family recipe. No, the wax is needed for a local New Year’s tradition,” said Mikkel, half-regretting his own sincerity. Unfortunately, he still felt a bit too shaken to make up some entertaining lies. ”Emil found out about it while practicing his Finnish on everyone in sight, and is insisting that we participate. So, we’re going to take turns pouring the wax into cold water, then using the resulting mess to cast shadows on a wall using… right, that candle over there. The shapes of the shadows are supposed to tell us what the next year will bring.”

“Fortune-telling! What fun!” Reynir clasped his hands. “We do a lot of that in Iceland, you know, especially among us mages. Not that I– I mean, they did teach me a bit about predicting the weather, of course. And crop diseases. But this sounds so much better! Only, how does it work?” And then, before Mikkel could come up with a clever reply, he added, “Never mind, I will ask Onni. He looks like he needs cheering up!”

Onni did not look particularly cheered by Reynir’s sudden greeting, or his barrage of questions. Still, he looked well and truly distracted from his brooding, so Mikkel left the two of them to it, and joined Sigrun at the allegedly-fancy table.

“What do you think?” She was eyeing the spread critically, hands on her hips

Mikkel took in the collection of messy platters. “I am surprised, and impressed, by how many different types of sausage you managed to find.”

“Right? Those fat ones are from the kitchen here, totally boring, and that platter is a sample from the village shop – also boring, of course, but not totally so – but then there are the ones you bought from that boat, and the dry one I won from that knife-throwing guy, and I got the Finns to barter with some of the hunters… So, do we have some options, at least.” She sighed. “A shame we couldn't get hold of a roast, as well. Or at least a few meatballs. But look, I did make sure to grab some vegetables, just for you. Even if they are technically too depressing for a feast.”

A single plate of humble boiled potatoes stood out among the tangle of sausage.

“I am both touched and honoured,” Mikkel told her.

“Great!” She linked her arm with his. “Sadly, you can’t get proper mead here, but the local booze will do the job nicely. And there’s cake for later, too. So that’s not too bad, is it?”

“It’s an impressive amount. It might even be enough to sustain the six of us on a long walk to Saimaa.”

“And that’s exactly what we should do! If only…” Sigrun slumped a little against Mikkel’s shoulder. “If only we didn’t have to worry about the helpless babies. Not that I mind them so much, really, it’s just that I…”

“It’s just that you pine for the fjords?”

“I pine for the feasts! You know, this is the second New Year’s feast I won’t be home for. With the two Yules, and Midsummer, and all the assorted birthdays and things, that’s… a lot of missed feasts.”

“I see.” Mikkel considered this. “You know, I have missed plenty of celebrations myself, over the years. While away working somewhere. And I have rarely minded, because… Well, as we’ve both agreed, too much of the same thing gets boring fast. And those family gatherings are all alike, aren’t they?”

“Maybe on your cow farm! In Dalsnes. they’re all different. I told you about the Yuletide troll hunt, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

“Well, the New Year’s hunt is quite different. Much smaller, because it’s not the main event.”

“So what’s the New Year’s event? Let me guess… Troll-throwing?”

“Nah, that’s more of a springtime thing. At New Year’s, we recite heroic tales of our exploits over the previous hunting season. It’s a contest, very competitive. The best retellings combine poetic skill, accuracy, and creativity.”

“Accuracy… and creativity?” That did sound like a fun challenge. “Maybe we could give it a go here, tonight.”

“I have thought about it. A lot. But…” Sigrun shook her head. “It would be a pretty pathetic contest, wouldn’t it? None of the mages can tell a story. It’s not even just a language thing: Lalli can kind of talk now, but when I asked him to describe their magical adventures all he said was ‘disgusting’.”

“Perhaps you could show them how it’s done?”

“That won’t work, either. I am a the most best storyteller, true, but even I need something to tell. Accuracy, remember? As it is, my song would have to be mostly boat-sitting, mage-sitting, and running away. And there wouldn’t even be a proper enemy!” Letting go of Mikkel’s elbow, Sigrun threw her hands up. “I had high hopes for both Surma and those bears, but, ugh, what a disappointment. I don’t even know what happened there, in the end.”

“Right, neither do I, really. I assume–”

“No, hang on a moment.” Sigrun’s voice had lost its gloom. “There is at least one story that might be worth telling. The time Emil blew up that metal tube troll, remember? And Emil can talk, he loves it! So all I need to do is help him with the composition, and– Emil!”

“Yes?” As she turned towards him, Emil leapt to his feet. “Should we start?”

Sigrun strode up to him. “Why not? No time like the pre– Oh.” Her eyes fell on the big pot by his feet. “You’re asking about starting your weird Finnish nonsense.”

Emil stared at her for a moment, gathering his courage to say, “It is not nonsense! It is an ancient Finnish tradition!”

“It is nonsense,” said Lalli behind him, quietly.

Sigrun folded her arms. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of nonsense,” she declared. “Especially at a feast. Go on, then.”

“Okay…” Emil looked around, ensuring he had everyone’s attention. “So, who should go first? You, Sigrun, I suppose?”

“Nah. It sounds complicated; I need to watch it first. See how it works.”

“Onni?”

Onni’s response was to mutter something in Finnish, and walk away, towards a window.

As Emil’s face fell, Mikkel nudged Reynir. “You’re excited about the fortune-telling, right? Well, why don’t you go first?”

“Oh, thank you!” Reynir beamed with enough excitement for at least three people; quite appropriate, really, given the attitude of his two fellow mages. He all but skipped towards the fireplace where, with Emil’s concerned, mute assistance, he was able to dump a glob of wax into the cold-water pot, and even retrieve it, without any major health hazards.

He shook a few remaining water drops off the glob before raising it in front of a candle.

“Look at that!” Mikkel announced. “It looks just like a sheep.”

Reynir sighed. “Oh, Mikkel, it does not.” It was true. No matter how he turned his piece of wax, its shadow was not round enough to be any sort of farmyard animal. “But I really can’t see–”

“Wait!” Emil exclaimed. “Hold it right there! It’s a flower!”

“Sure!” Sigrun was nodding. “A crap flower. Only four petals, and crooked ones at that. I’d never pick that. Five petals is the minimum for a usable flower.”

“Maybe so, but, the thing is,” continued Emil excitedly, “the thing is, I actually know what this means! A flower – well, a bouquet, but that’s almost the same, really – means true love!”

Mikkel hurried to translate. “Lucky you,” he told Reynir. “You’re fated to find true love this year!”

“Really?” Reynir seemed more confused than pleased. “I mean, that’s great, but, no, I don’t think so.”

“I am sorry, Emil,” Mikkel told him somberly, “Reynir doesn’t seem to appreciate his fortune.”

“But it’s such a good one!” Emil grimaced, then shrugged. “Oh well, I guess I will go next, then. Wish me luck!”

He went through the process with excited impatience – but the moment he lifted the wax from the water-pot, his face fell.

“It’s… a single line,” he said quietly. “I know this one too. It means misfortune.”

“Oi,” said Sigrun. “You’re cheating. You need to use the candle!”

Emil obeyed, but he had been right: his wax had formed a single long cylinder, a shape not known for its numerous shadow-casting possibilities.

“I guess it could be some sort of weapon.” Sigrun was squinting. “Like, a sharpened stick.”

“It’s a train!” said Reynir in unhelpful Icelandic. “Like the fast ones in Sweden.”

Well, that was hardly encouraging, given what Mikkel had heard about Emil’s last fast train journey. “I think it’s a tentpole,” he suggested. “It means there’s a lot more camping in your future.”

“Umbrella,” said Lalli. “Not open.”

Emil looked around at all his friends. “Thanks, everyone,” he said mournfully. “But don’t you see? All those things are still unlucky straight lines.”

From his gloomy perch by the window, Onni asked something. When Lalli replied, he rolled his eyes and spoke a few emphatic words, which, judging by their effect on Emil, seemed to have been magic, replacing his frown with a broad grin.

“It’s okay!” Emil announced. “Onni says straight lines are good luck. It's the wavy ones that are bad! So we’re still going strong, with good fortunes for all. Lalli, do you want to be next?”

Lalli shrugged, but reached for the pot of wax eagerly enough, going through the process quickly – until he produced his first shadow. Then, he froze in shock.

“You lucky son of a–” said Sigrun. “I mean, what a beautiful boat! It’s got a rudder and a mast and everything.”

She was not wrong. Lalli stared at the perfect sailboat, his face taking on a greenish tinge.

Emil grimaced. “Maybe it’s… an umbrella upside down?”

“Stupid,” was Lalli's only reply. He let the wax fall to the ground before joining his cousin at the window. When Emil rose, as if to follow, Mikkel stepped forward.

“Okay, my turn,” he said. “How does this work, again?”

As Emil talked him through the process, Mikkel tried to pour out a substantial amount of wax, hoping for an interesting result. And succeeded, in a way: every shadow cast by his huge lump was a mess.

“A forest?” suggested Sigrun. “No, a bunch of mushrooms? Or maybe just a giant? Although that seems like cheating. If you think about it, any shape could be a giant!”

“It’s birds,” said Reynir.

“Seagulls?” asked Emil, a bit worriedly.

“Nah,” replied Sigrun. “Look at their beaks. They’re at least half eagle.”

“So what, they’re half eagle, half seagull?” asked Emil. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”

Sigrun shrugged. “It might be a thing in some part of Finland we haven’t seen. The important question is, what does it mean?”

“Birds are good luck,” said Lalli. “All birds, I think.”

“Hear that, big guy?” Sigrun punched Mikkel’s shoulder playfully. “Now, move over, it’s my turn!”

With the wax almost out, her lump turned out much smaller than Mikkel’s – but equally mysterious.

“Well, it’s definitely not a boat,” she said with obvious disappointment, turning it this way and that.

“It could be… a house?” said Emil.

“A birdhouse?” suggested Mikkel.

Sigrun gave him a sideways look. “For half-eagles?”

“Wait!” Reynir reached over to tilt the shape slightly. “Look!”

“Huh,” said Sigrun. “It’s a chair. A… chair. Furniture. What does a chair mean, Lalli?”

Lalli shrugged. “Ask Onni?” he suggested.

“Don’t bother. What can a chair possibly mean but boredom?” Sigrun glared at the shape in her hand. “Well, I refuse to accept that. And, wait, if I just–” Her hands came together as she worked the lump, then lifted it into the air. “Behold, a war axe! I have always wanted one.”

There was no denying it. The shadow cast by her handiwork was undeniably an axe, a little crude, but deadly-looking.

“Sigrun…” Emil’s mouth turned down in a frown. “That’s cheating.”

Sigrun scoffed. “I don’t know how you do it in Sweden, but in Norway we believe in making our own fate.” She raised her new axe higher. “I can make yours, too. That stupid long stick of yours would make a great sword.”

“Yeah?” Slowly, Emil grinned. “Okay, then.”

Mikkel could think of nothing to add to Sigrun’s words as the new sword was forged, and then tested, when Sigrun and Emil staged a mock shadow-fight on the wall. A fight that ended in both their dramatic deaths.

“Now, Lalli,” announced Sigrun from the floor, once her death-pangs were over. “I’ve thought of something for your boat, too. How about a mountain, a tall one, like we have in Norway? You can scout it.”

“A mountain?” Lalli frowned. “Okay.”

Sigrun sat up, collecting Lalli’s discarded wax along the way. “Mikkel? You?”

“Sure, I’ll take a Norwegian mountain, if that’s on offer.”

“You can have a whole mountain range. You deserve it. Reynir?”

Reynir shook his head, his ‘crap flower’ clutched to his chest, before sidling away.

“Suit yourself,” said Sigrun as she bent over her new project.

***

Reynir gazed down at the shape in his hands.

Yes, it was definitely a palm tree, just like in that picture he’d seen! Of course, that did not mean he would see one any time soon – fortunetelling did not work that way – but he knew, with the absolute certainty his dreams sometimes brought him, that it meant something similar. Something new, and exciting, and exotic. He could not help smiling.

The others’ fortunes seemed to support this conclusion. Well, assuming they stayed together, but he was pretty sure they would, now. Mikkel’s birds, well, hadn’t there been birds just like them in the palm tree picture? He would be seeing new places, for sure. And then there had been Lalli’s boat, and Emil’s train, which spoke of far-off journeys. Sigrun’s throne… that was less clear in his mind, but the impression it had given him was one of… responsibility. Which made sense, for her. He felt the same impression even now, as he looked over at her, sitting on the floor and shaping all the others’ preferred futures.

Admittedly, he didn’t quite understand the weird triangular shapes she’d produced for Lalli and Mikkel, but they seemed to appreciate them, so that was great! And she hadn’t forgotten about Onni, either! Reynir had hated to see him left out, but no, she was making him something too, out of scraps.

He couldn’t quite see what, but he hoped – or maybe even felt? – that it was something that spoke of new beginnings.

*******

Author’s disclaimer: I am not Finnish, so my understanding of the Finnish tradition of uudenvuodentina is gleaned from the internet, and far from perfect. For one, it is mostly done with metals (like the tin mentioned in the name, or lead), but I have decided that those would be harder to get post-apocalypse. But when I did something similar (with some Germans) we used wax, so I know this does work.
For the “meanings”, I relied in part on the unverified list at https://absitomen.com/lexicon/Molybdomancy#Method. (https://absitomen.com/lexicon/Molybdomancy#Method) You can see what everyone’s signs supposedly mean there! Although I expect Reynir is more reliable, anyway.

Mod's comments: holy cats I laughed my head off at some of this, particularly the banter, and I've had the privilege of reading it twice already! And tehta's gift - just as quickly there was a stab of angst mixed in. Unbelieveable, thank you for this.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on December 31, 2023, 06:58:55 AM

Tehta, thank you! This is so great! I chuckled out loud a couple of times, and also felt the pang of Onni’s loss, and Mikkel’s too.

Sausages, wieners in particular, and potato salad are typical of New Year’s parties, but if a fancier meal is wanted there is no definite New Year’s dish. We’ll be having wieners with pasta and dip, pigs-in-a-blanket, and crisps/chips tonight :) Although I know many people have parties and fancier food. The iconic New Year’s celebration includes sparkling wine or Champagne, but we don’t happen to have any at hand this year.

We did uudenvuodentina several times when I was a kid, not every year but often enough for it to be a familiar tradition. But I don’t really remember many of the meanings. Nowadays I think wax is commonly used, the fumes from the metal used were not very healthy.

Pining for the fjords, indeed :sigrun:

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 01, 2024, 02:04:05 AM

I didn't click through to the list of omens until today, and find some of them surprising - such as gallows being good luck? A bat being a 'fruitless journey'? And a dagger is friendly. Very cool.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 01, 2024, 02:13:48 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/tSU9mXi.png)

Happy New Year everybody! Taking the thyme to mint a New Year's wish today is our resident sage, Róisín. [Apologies.]
Charge your glasses with the libation of your choice and toast to 2024!

Redding the house and sweeping out the hearth,
Cleaning the chimney so the smoke may flow.
Saining our home for blessings of the earth,
Setting dry kindling so new fire may glow.

Putting aright such things as are amiss,
Paying our debts the household’s name to clear,
Welcoming the first-footer with a kiss,
Singing and dancing in the bright New Year.

Food, drink and fire welcome in our friends.
Juniper burns to set old ghosts to rest.
Now the New Year begins, the Old Year ends.
Let peace and joy begin and end our quest

For happiness, for better days to come.
Drink now a toast: to health, and hope, and home.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Keep Looking on January 01, 2024, 07:12:15 AM

Tehta, your story was a really enjoyable read! I feel like I am learning a lot of different new years traditions in this event.

Róisín, what a wonderful and appropriate new years poem!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Mirasol on January 01, 2024, 01:25:29 PM

To continue this, because now I started:

On the ninth day of Christmas the forum gave to me,
nine toasts to new year´s
eight self-made fortunes
seven candle-servings
six flame-like bird-chicks
five drying shirts
four sighs from Onni
three ghostbird timejumps
two shining lights
and a playlist for the Hotakainen family

Covid knocked me out for some more days than anticipated... -_-
I´m somewhat back among the living today, so that´s good.

Quote from: Jitter on December 28, 2023, 12:20:32 PM

Mirasol, great filking!

The song Tonttujen jouluyö is listed for a Wilhelm Sefve aka Svensson but I have no info whether Wilhelm is Swedish, Finnish, German or other. We have quite a lot of Christmas songs that are originally German, although I hope most of the ones I listed are originally Finnish or at least the words are original rather than translation. We do of course get a lot of the Anglosaxon songs, both in English and in translation, but I didn’t care to include those as I’m pretty sure everyone has already heard them sufficiently many times by the 24th :reynir:

Thank you! I do think you did a good job at that, the rest of the songs wasn´t familiar to me. I ended up googling around a bit over the Tonttujen joulujö-song, it´s piqued my interest now. If I´m reading the wikipedia (https://fi.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tonttujen_jouluy%C3%B6)-pages (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tomtarnas_julnatt) right it´s apparently originally Swedish - and much older than the German version (that was released in the late nineteeneighties). A case of borrowing a melody that´s not well-known around here I would guess.

Keep, those birds live in Germany too! I live close to a river, and there´s always a handful of them and their chicks around during spring/summer. :haw:
I never thought they´d be found in so many places, they always had some kind of special "rare" status in my head on account of not being ducks and swans, the "typical" waterbirds around.

gjuerne, nice drawing! Hehe, candle-sludge for the sake of tradition-accuracy!

tehta, that was a very sweet story! I´m also familiar with that tradition (German here), both with metal and with wax. My family only did it like... twice or so, but we did switch to wax due to the metal being unhealthy. But alas, we even had it prepared this year, and then promptly forgot to do it... Oh well...

Róisín, a beautiful poem! And happy new year to everyone!!!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 02, 2024, 02:55:07 AM

I love your filk, Mirasol, and I am very glad you are on the road to recovery!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 02, 2024, 06:13:45 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/20gr8Vl.png)

Here we are at 2 January, and it is my privilege to once again contribute. This one was based off a YoinkTober prompt suggestion from Jitter, which while sliiiiightly late for YoinkTober is squealing in in time for The 10th Day of Christmas. I hope you enjoy my take on '10 Visions of the Icelandic Mages'

:reynir: :reynir: :reynir: :reynir:

The teacher clapped her hands. "We come again to the sharing of the visions. We seiðkona can assist in so many ways, but one of the unique gifts granted to us is the ability to see visions and be guided by dreams." She gestured at some of the students pulling their chairs into a circle. "It's always best practice to keep a dream log on your nightstand, and study these dreams at times to see if you have a pattern to your dreaming."

Ísabel pulled on her earlobe as she leafed through her dream journal. "Here's one from last week. I saw the moon coming in and out of the clouds. It was nearly first quarter. I realised it wasn't clouds, it was steam. I looked down, and the steam was coming from a pot that I was stirring. I could see chunks of carrot, so I think it was supposed to be soup, but then I saw myself pick up a candle. It was ...pink? I thought it was a candle, because it had a wick in it, but then I took a knife and started cutting bits of it into the soup."

Several of the girls grimaced. The teacher nodded sagely. "I'm glad you wrote it down, dear. We don't always know right away. It could have been part of a potion, as well."

"That's strange," Katinka broke in, "I dreamt about candles too, but I don't think it was a vision, really. It was just looking for my favourite candles at the store but when I looked in the box it only had bags of oats and flour and dried beans, and none of the nice pink kitty-cat candles."

"It was of value, Katinka," the teacher spread her hands then crossed them over her heart. "It reminds you of what is important to focus on."

"Boring food?"

"No food is boring, dear, when you don't have any. Our mothers and grandmothers may remember the famine times, that they were blessed enough to survive." Katinka looked away. "Remember that the gods came back to us then." She motioned to the next student in the circle.

"Same thing I always see," Bára grumped and ruffled her short hair. "Sheep. Always, just sheep."

"But the sheep are healthy, and calm, right? That is a good sign, you know."

"I suppose? I don't even know if they're our sheep. I can't see where they are. I can't see the shepherd, or the dogs. All I can tell is if it's windy, because the sheep's ears are flapping. If they're dripping, it's raining." The other students giggled, and she gave a half-hearted grin. "I try to ask if this is the future, or the past, or the present, but there's no one there except the stupid sheep."

"That's all right, dear," the teacher nodded, "we all know that your talent lies in galdrastafir, and you don't have to excel at everything."

Björg pulled on her long plaits as she spoke next. "I saw a Blessed Feline, or at least a drawing of one? But it was huge, and it carried people inside of it as it bounded around. No, not eaten, the cat was sort of shaped like a carriage, a really big one? And there was a fat, huge rabbit, and two little girls. It wasn't a giant, I don't know, it was ...friends with them all?"

The other women and the teacher all stared blankly at Björg. Finally the teacher said, "visions are sometimes very puzzling..."

Bára ventured, "Cats are good, rabbits, not so much, but... maybe there will be ...plenty?"

Björg nodded along, "Yes? And, there were trees all around? It was very beautiful? OH!" Everybody jumped at the last exclamation. "Totoro! The rabbit's name was Totoro!" Björg beamed at her bemused classmates. The teacher shrugged and wrote down the name.

Hildur gave a startled cry when she realised she was next. She bit her lip for a moment before suddenly exclaiming, “I saw Fire, Flames in the Sky! The ground Rumbled, a Terrible Stench Filled the air! The Miasma!” She waved her hands in front of her, ignoring the snort and giggle off to her left. “And, lava! Lava poured out, it was too fast for me, I tried to run, but-"

The teacher interrupted, “can we narrow this down, dear? Did you see any buildings, or sheep maybe? Fences? A glacier?”

Hildur looked blankly at the teacher for a moment, her hands still making vague circles in the air. "The lichen was burning?"

The teacher continued, “Yes, yes. Any… ravens? No? Owls?“

Hildur let her hands fall into her lap. “No.”

“That’s all right, dear,” the teacher nodded, “but that doesn’t narrow it down enough for a vision. That could be anytime, or anywhere on Iceland." She looked to the next student in the circle. "Ylva? Do you have a vision to share?”

Ylva smiled and inclined her head, “Oh yes, yes I do.” Delicately tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she simpered, “I saw a young man, rising from a box! He looked so lost, like he didn’t know where he was. And he had such lovely long hair, red hair, wrapped in a braid it was, wrapped with leather, and runes! Runes of power! The people around him were afraid of his power, I think, because they locked him away, and-“

Again the teacher interrupted, “that’s not a vision, dear, that was Reynir Árnason. We all heard all about his journey into the Silent World." Ylva opened her mouth to protest but closed it again with a scowl as she sat back.

The teacher motioned for the next student to speak. She looked at the other students nervously. as she opened her dream journal. "I saw a great circle. It was sort of like a rune circle, and at each point in the circle was a glowing book, or like those screens like you see the Nordic Council using. Then I could see there were people inside and outside the screens. But some of them were old, some were young, some were wearing proper sweaters but other ones were wearing very little, like it was hot."

"Yes, yes, that is a common vision, 'The Internet' I believe it was called. They are guardians of the Past Times when they appear. Sometimes they have very important things to tell us. What did they say?"

Hrefna blushed. "They did not speak to me, they could not see me. Many of them were of that church from the before times, the ones that used to worship the gods Kirk and Spock." The students nodded. They'd heard about those visions. "Well, I thought maybe one did, but she just smiled and said something and drew a large red heart-shaped sigil around my bedroom. I couldn't move."

The teacher was writing furiously. "Good, good! Drawing a sigil is a very good sign. 'She' you said? What colour hair did she have? Can you remember anything of what she said to you?"

"Her hair? It was pink." The teacher and several of the students gasped. "She had dark skin, and beautiful dark dark eyes, and pink hair. You think it was definitely her?"

"It's quite likely, dear. Our honoured Freya! Oh yes, you were blessed. What did she say?"

"Wow. I don't think she was talking to me. Not right to me. I don't really understand it. I wrote it down right away, but it doesn't make sense. She said, 'Ooo cottagecore, nice' and drew the sigil." She drew the heart shape in the air.

The other students tried saying Freya's magic words. "Kottadzkár? "neíss"?

"Ooo ka-, katta, ....köttur? Do you think she was talking about her cats?"

Hrefna shrugged, "Maybe? I saw cats on many of the other screens?"

The teacher underlined what she'd written down, "We can ask the skalds if it means something in any of the languages they know, but it may just have to be a mystery for now. But I'm sure the sigil was meaningful. It is an old, old symbol for love, so I would say Freya's mark is very favourable." Hrefna blushed and looked at the floor as the students on either side of her patted her shoulder and knee.

"Now, Þórný, it's your turn. I know you have come late to your gift, but that can mean extra insight."

Þórný flatly stated, "I saw numbers in the air."

"Oh, yes?" The teacher tapped her pencil on her paper absent-mindedly. "How many numbers, Þórný?"

"Just six numbers. They were shiny like gold. And I also saw Sigrid holding her baby."

"It may... that is... That is a good omen, that her pregnancy and birth goes well. I'm sure the numbers don't mean anything, other than maybe an identification number or something. But I will write them down, hmm?" She paused expectantly.

"3, 7, 39, 14, 15, 11."

"Splendid work!" The teacher smiled at Þórný while folding up the piece of paper and slipping it into her key pocket. "Ha ha! These things will reveal themselves in time, if they are to be."

Ísabel said, "I think those sound like lottery numbers."

Þórný nodded but the teacher waved her hands, exclaiming, "Oh, NO. No, definitely not. Can't be, no. Freya doesn't, Freya doesn't work like that. The Norns may see things like that, but it's never quite so blatant, now is it?" The teacher grinned at them all. Only some of the students smiled back.

Dagny took a deep breath when she could see it was her turn. "I know you said Ylva's dream was just telling Reynir Árnason's story. My dream? I'm not sure, it was another of the Silent World adventurers, but I don't think I saw a vision of that mission."

"Go on, dear. Which one was it?"

"I was back in Norway, in this troop with Sigrun Eide, the captain from Dalsnes, and we were fighting two trolls!" She winced as her fellow students gasped. "It was really scary! I've never seen a live troll up close like that, and then it... It, one of the trolls, rounded back and was going to attack the captain! I yelled at her, but she couldn't hear me, and then I jumped over there? I wasn't just watching the scene?"

"Yes, that's right, sometimes we experience a vision through our own eyes, and sometimes we see through someone else, and experience it as they do, or did, or," she looked around the circle of rapt students, "how it will come to pass in the future. Are you all right? Was there more?"

She opened her mouth to speak again but Björg cut in, "Did you die? I heard that if you die in a vision you die in real life too!" Björg was pulling on her plaits again, her eyes enormous.

The teacher cut in, "Please, dear. That is not necessarily accurate. There is some suggestion that a seiðkona in delicate health can take a turn if they have a vision like that, but usually we see visions of others' deaths. Sadly, it's quite common." She turned back to Dagny and asked gently, "Did this person die?"

"I don't know, I don't think so. She... I..., it kind of jumped around? Sigrun's head was bleeding, and both my hands were hurt, and Sigrun had taken off her tunic and had it wrapped around my hands and was yelling for the medic." Flushed, she picked at the fringe on her shawl. "Um, and that's it."

She wasn't quite ready to add the part of her vision where Sigrun held her close, urging her to not die.

"This has been a valuable session, my dears, and I urge you to continue and keep that journal. Now, it's my turn to share one of my visions."

"I travelled with my fylgja far away, I'm not sure quite where. I met another seiðkona, or perhaps a Finnish type of mage, because I could not see an obvious fylgja with her. I drew a friendship stave for us, and she thanked me. Then she showed me the land where she lived, and it was wondrous! There were people living there, and they had many lovely birds, and trees! There was even fruit on the trees, but she laughed and said it wasn't ripe yet."

"Did they not have the Rash?" Hildur muttered.

"They had some defences much like ours in places, so they must have. But think! How exciting to see other people outside the Known World! I asked how I could find this place again and she told me," she looked at the circle of rapt faces around her, "second star to the right, and straight on 'till morning."

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on January 02, 2024, 01:34:04 PM

Wave I laughed out loud :haw:

What are the numbers though? The only thing I could think of was the numbers from Lost, but it’s not them. The cottagecore one takes full marks in funny! And poor Dagny, good thing the vision didn’t come with full sensations (I guess, I think she would have noted more if she felt it all).

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: dmeck7755 on January 02, 2024, 03:38:06 PM

That is a giggley sort of story

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 03, 2024, 02:48:36 AM

Quote from: Jitter on January 02, 2024, 01:34:04 PM

Wave I laughed out loud :haw:

What are the numbers though? The only thing I could think of was the numbers from Lost, but it’s not them. The cottagecore one takes full marks in funny! And poor Dagny, good thing the vision didn’t come with full sensations (I guess, I think she would have noted more if she felt it all).

Thankee. <3 <3 The numbers were just totally random numbers I came up with on the spot (I've never seen Lost?), but the teacher is totally going to play those numbers at the lottery despite what she said. I don't recommend playing those numbers in real life, though, because I'm not a lucky person (good or bad).

I left figuring out names until the very end. Dagny is the fanon name bestowed on No-Hands from Sigrun's ~~origin story~~ prologue, and it's an accepted Icelandic and Norwegian name, so boom! that seer became Norwegian. (the side bit about being able to understand bokmal bc she'd been a skald was thereby jettisoned)

Anyway, enough about me, I've got a helluva story ready to go and it's time to post!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 03, 2024, 02:58:51 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/ZNRGNH8.png)

Welcome back everybody to the 11th Day of Christmas, our penultimate day of this event! Today's author, pen name Jitter, has penned for us all an entertaining yarn to read while curled up on the sofa by the fire (or on the hammock in the shade).

:emil: :lalli: :reynir:
Murder, She Wrote

Chapter 1

In which there is a loud crash

Lalli was sitting at a table. A very posh table, with glimmering silverware and cups and plates of purest white, made of such fine stoneware that it was hard to believe. In the middle of the table there was a big vase arranged with large flowers and conifers, on a pristine white tablecloth. A pot in front of Lalli was giving out the pleasant aroma of a warm drink, and he had a plate full of pastries, meats, eggs… It was a very pleasant room, but one that Lalli had never seen before. As far as he could tell, the room was posher than any he had ever seen before, although admittedly appraising the poshness of fancy rooms was not one of his strong suits.

Speaking of suits, he was wearing one. It was of dark brownish wool, with subtle differences in colouring of the fabric. The wool was slightly scratchy but not too bad, and the smooth shirt he had under the jacket helped a lot. It was a stupid shirt, with buttons and collars, but it felt nice. Seated opposite him was Emil, wearing a three-piece suit of very fine dark wool, a shirt that looked even smoother than Lalli’s, and some kind of a… scarf? tied in a fancy knot around his neck. Emil looked even more impeccable than usually.

The third person in the room was a vaguely familiar-looking elderly lady with curly hair, wearing a blue dress with a white apron. She was laying a tray of sweets on the table. Lalli heard himself say “Thank you, dear Matron.” That was odd! What is a matron?

Lalli didn’t know what was going on, but so far this wasn’t terribly intolerable. He took a sip of his mug (an unfamiliar type of tea, definitely not nettle, but nice and warm) and reached for a piece of toast. A scream followed by a loud crash and clatter startled him. Both Lalli and Emil jumped up and ran to investigate.

Via a wide hallway panelled with dark wood they entered another posh room. Tall paned windows showed the beautiful garden outside. A large fireplace was lit to provide some homely warmth. The walls were painted in deep shades that complimented the colourful rug on the floor. But the rug was ruined. A person was splayed on the floor, a dark red stain slowly spreading under their head. Reynir was standing next to them, wide-eyed with horror, with a tray of broken dishes at his feet. Stupid Reynir, he must have dropped everything upon seeing a little blood. He was wearing a white apron too.

“He! He… I came in with the tea and he was! Is… is he all right?”

Emil kneeled to the person and laid two fingers on their neck.

“No pulse. I’m afraid it is too late.”

“But… but he will be all right? Yes?” The lady from the food room laid her arm on Reynir’s shoulders.

“I don’t think he will, dear. Try to calm down.” She led a shaking Reynir out of the room.

“Captain, please go with them. See that the lad calms down. I will have questions for him soon.” Emil instructed.

Lalli looked around but didn’t see anyone. Emil made an impatient gesture towards receding Reynir and the lady. “Could you please?” Oh. Emil meant him. Lalli followed back to the food room where the lady was pouring some tea for Reynir.

“Do take a seat here, dear.”

“But.. but it’s the Lady’s breakfast room!”

“I know it’s unconventional, but needs must, dear. You must be so very upset. I’m sure the lady will forgive.”

Whining silently, Reynir sat down and drained his tea.

“There you go, dear. Feeling any better?”

“Yes. *sniff* A bit.”

Chapter 2

Where some bad news are shared

Since things seemed to be calming down, Lalli sat at his own plate and decided to seize the opportunity. So, he seized some toast and eggs he was so unfortunately forced to abandon earlier. Soon Émile stepped in and asked them to follow him.

“I have asked Mr Hogsden to instruct everyone to join us at the library. You too, lad.” Émile was beckoning to Reynir, who meekly followed.

The library was another fine room, with shelves upon shelves of books. Seated in the various comfortable seating were several persons. Émile stepped forward.

“Dear Lady Westford, ladies and gentlemen” he was gesturing around the room, “I am afraid I have dire news. It appears that Lord Westford has met his untimely demise.”

With the news everyone in the room inhaled sharply. Lady Westford let out a shriek. “What? Is Torquil dead?”

“I am afraid so, your Ladyship. He was found dead in the drawing room by this servant boy.” Émile indicated Reynir. “What’s your name, lad?”

“Rowan, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Rowan, I will have a word with you soon. Please go back to the breakfast room and wait.” Nodding profusely Rowan left, with the Matron following him.

“I have taken the liberty to instruct Mr Hogsden to inform the law enforcement. I am sure the nation’s brightest will be here soon. In the meantime, with your permission of course, my lady, I would like to carry on some investigations.”

The Lady seemed to have regained some of her composure. “Yes, yes of course. We were afraid something sinister was afoot! That’s why we invited you, Monsieur Rivard. But we hoped you would have prevented this! And now Torquil… my Torquil!” She was sobbing uncontrollably. One of the three youngsters sitting near the main window walked to her.

“Please be calm, Mother. We will get through this.” The young blonde woman was visibly fighting down her own tears, but she tried to comfort her mother. Her brothers looked less grief-stricken, and one of them spoke up haughtily.

“You have already failed in your task, “Monsieur”. The great detective Émile Rivard! Much use have you been! See that you get to the bottom of this and be quick about it!” Lalli noticed Émile tensing, but he just smiled mildly to the boy.

“I will put all my intellectual effort into the mystery, rest assured young sir.” The stress of “young” was light, Lalli was certainly the only one who noticed. “As of now, the drawing room is locked until we wait for the police.”

Chapter 3

Where the Investigation starts

The first order of business was to question the servant boy, Rowan. He was terrified to be interrogated. The boy kept wringing his apron in his hands and declaring his innocence over and over. Lalli almost felt sorry for him, confronted by the famous Monsieur Rivard. Surely even the kitchen boy (Rowan, wasn’t it) had heard of the master detective?

Rowan hadn’t touched anything. He hadn’t heard anything, and he didn’t know anything. He had been told by the cook to take some tea to the drawing room, as the Lord had just rung for it. Upon entering he saw Lord Westford on the floor.

“I got very scared, so I screamed, and then I dropped the tray, and then I screamed some more. And then you sirs arrived, with the Matron.”

“And you didn’t take anything from the room?”

“No sir, I did not! I just stood there and screamed. I swear on my mother’s grave. No no, my mother is not dead, I swear on my mother’s heart! You must believe me! I didn’t do anything!”

They let the lad go, but told him to stay in the kitchen.

“Well, he hardly seemed the type to knock his employer to death.” Lalli noted.

“True, true, but always bear in mind that appearances can be deceiving!”

***

Émile commandeered the study for the investigations. The butler Mr Hogsden, who was a broad man with greyish hair that looked somewhat unruly despite his otherwise smart attire, took care of the arrangements. Three comfortable chairs were arranged in front of the big oaken desk, and a smaller desk was brought in for Lalli, who was apparently to take notes.

“Notes? Me? Why?”

“But my dear Captain” Émile was looking Lalli into the eyes intently “what nonsense is this? You are my right-hand man! Of course you will take the notes just as you always do!”

“But… I…” Lalli was feeling mildly confused “I don’t… Of course, Émile. I don’t know what came over me!”

“That’s the spirit! Now would you please prepare a recap of all people present at the time of the… incident… with me. So, firstly, the family…”

Very soon, the following was noted in Lalli’s neat handwriting:

The family

Lord Torquil Westford (deceased)

Lady Sophronia Westford (wife of the above)

Herbert, Augusta and Sean Westford (children of the above, aged 22, 21 and 19 respectively)

Guests

General Anderson (retired)

Talia Holden (occupation unclear, possibly an ex-military strategist)

Wilbur Vaughan (explorer, frontiersman, eccentric, based on age probably retired)

Émile Rivard, detective extraordinaire

Lalli Hotakainen, captain, companion to Monsieur Rivard

Staff

Ormond Hogsden, butler
Ms Felicity Hogsden, private secretary (the butler’s sister)
Matron
Cook
Servant boy (Rowan)
Maid to Lady Westford
Stable master
Gardener
Some servants

“Firstly, potential motives. I believe we should rule out the lesser servants, at least for the time being. But the secretary and the butler must be interviewed. They will know what is what in this household.

The most obvious motives are always money, love and revenge. What do you know about the Westford family?”

“The word is the kids are some pieces of work, all of them. I don’t think many people were shocked to learn they have been involved in something unseemly.”

“Please elaborate, my friend! It is good that you are so well networked with the… shall we say high society. What is considered unseemly in this instance?” This sounded weird to Lalli. Calling him well connected? But, yeah, it was true, so he proceeded to divulge his information.

“Well, there is nothing definite, but rumours seem to point to gambling, Herbert in particular has been mentioned. And Sean is never far from where his brother is. And now they are about to inherit a sizable fortune each. Which might well be extremely welcome.”

“A fortune, you say? I have heard that Lord and Lady Westford were teetering on the brink of bankruptcy some years ago?”

“They were. There was some sort of accident, which drained their family fortunes. But now their collectibles business is booming, and they are back on their feet again.”

“Ah yes, the business! They are procuring some truly marvellous items. But where do they come from? They say they fund expeditions, but where to? Is there something shady about the process? Hmm?”

“I believe General (retired) Andersson is their business partner. And Ms Holden possibly too.”

“What about Mr Vaughan?”

“Not that I know of. But he is an explorer of some renown, maybe they were hoping to partner with him?”

“So, the guests may have some motives related to the potentially shared business. With the exception of the two of us, of course.” Émile mused.

“Well, I certainly don’t have a motive to kill our host, if that’s what you are getting at.” Lalli grinned. “Joint business interest would fall under ‘money’, right?”

“Normally yes, but of course it could also be revenge. We don’t know enough of their dealings and these expeditions to rule it out. As for the love motive…”

Chapter 4

Where the Murder Scene is examined

A loud bang at the door interrupted Émile in mid-sentence.

“Now then, now then, what seems to be the problem? Oh, is this the famous detective Mr Rivard himself? I was informed you have been invited to attend the festival season at the manor.” An even louder voice exclaimed.

“Yes, I am Monsieur Rivard. And you?” The two persons now entering seemed to fill the study as they were both of considerable stature. The fiery-haired woman was very tall and imposing, and her companion, the man with fair hair and beard was both tall and broad.

“I am detective inspector Eagle, and this is sergeant Matthews. We are here to investigate the murder of Lord Westham. Turn over all the evidence at once!”

“Certainly, inspector, you speak too hastily of me! I have not collected any evidence yet. Knowing the valiant officers of the law were already on the way here, I have not touched the scene.”

“What are we standing around for then? Onwards to the scene!” Inspector Eagle was gesturing vigorously. Hogsden, who was waiting just outside, led them to the now locked door of the drawing room.

The body was lying on the floor, where they had left it. The blood had dried now, and the nasty wound in Lord Westford’s skull was visible among the crust. It was not a pretty sight.

Lalli was jolted awake by the smell of blood. He was standing in a posh room with several people. Emil’s uncle Torbjörn was lying on the floor, dead. Emil didn’t seem to really mind, and Sigrun and Mikkel were similarly nonchalant. “What the… “ Lalli began. Emil lifted his hazy gaze on him, and he understood. Emil’s stupid books again! This dream had been pleasant at first (the tea and sweets were tasty!) but this part wasn’t much to his liking.

On the other hand, he never cared very deeply for Mr Västerström, and since Emil appeared unfazed, maybe this was one of those things where familiar things were so different that it didn’t really matter. Emil seemed very keen, so Lalli was ok to let the dream play along. He didn’t even mind talking so much, as it was only a dream. No one else would remember him chatting away.

“It would seem he was bonked over the head, ma’am” Constable Matthews volunteered.

“Oh, what great skills of observation your sergeant here demonstrates!” Émile smiled at the inspector.

“He has a point though; I don’t see anything he was hit with. Do you?”

“Indeed, I do not. And the servant boy who found him swore he hadn’t seen anything either.”

After an examination of the surroundings, they left the room with the body to wait for the coroner’s arrival. Based on what Lalli could see, Torbjör… Lord Westford had really been killed by one strong blow to the head.

“Now then, this is a conundrum! No weapon in sight and no witnesses!” Inspector Eagle was cupping her chin, looking very thoughtful.

“If I may, my dear Inspector” Émile added “Let us consider some further details. The Lord had asked for tea, we should ask the cook how long before the boy arrived this happened. And for how many people? We didn’t see the Lord in the breakfast room, so it seems likely he had already had breakfast, and was now having tea with someone. Perhaps to discuss some matters?”

“Just what I was thinking! Matthews, go get the cook! I want to talk to him!”

“Perhaps dear Captain has something to add? Any further observations, my friend?” Émile turned to Lalli.

“Yes, I did notice something. The boy Rowan was standing at the doorway, as witnessed by the remains of the tea. At the only doorway to the room, leading to the hallway through which he must have arrived. And we also came through there immediately after. We didn’t see or hear anyone.”

“An excellent notion, my friend! The culprit cannot have left the room through the door after the boy’s arrival.”

“The culprit, or the weapon for that matter. And neither of them is in the room.”

A brief interrogation of the cook revealed that Lord Westford had asked to arrange tea and biscuits for two people to be ready and delivered to the drawing room when he rang for it. So, after the call, it was definitely less than two minutes before the boy Rowan had stepped into the hallway.

“So! We are dealing with a dangerous criminal here! To kill the Lord and disappear within two minutes, both bold and fast!” Inspector Eagle seemed to be a little impressed.

“Not to mention,” Émile added, “getting rid of the weapon as well.”

“Matthews, finding the weapon is of utmost importance. Search the house from floor to ceiling!”

“Ma’am, the manor is huge!” Matthews protested.

“All the more reason to get started immediately! Off you go, there’s a good man!”

Sighing deeply, Matthews saluted and exited to the hallway.

Chapter 5

Where there is a Development

Inspector Eagle and Monsieur Rivard settled in the study to consider the evidence so far, and the potential motives. Money was the strongest candidate. The family definitely had money, whereas whether they had love was still open to question. No particular reasons for revenge were immediately obvious, but further information on that would also be needed. Lalli was taking notes, while listening to the buzz of familiar voices in conversation. Weird how familiar it sounded, really, considering that he’d just met Inspector Eagle.

The Inspector wanted to first talk with the butler.

“It may speed up the process a lot! You’d be surprised to know how often the butler is guilty!”

“Ah, hmm, of course, you are the officer of the law, so what you say goes. But I request that I and my companion are allowed to participate in the interrogation?”

“Well, ok, I’ll allow it. Matthews is busy with the search anyways.”

The butler, Ormond Hogsden, was a serious man of few words. He confirmed the list of people present and informed them that it was typical of the Lord to discuss his matters in the drawing room over tea. So, he hadn’t been surprised when the Lord had asked for the service to be arranged. He didn’t know who the Lord was intending to meet. He hadn’t noticed anybody, but breakfast was still being served, so he wouldn’t have paid special attention to hearing people in the hallway leading both to the drawing room and the breakfast room.

All of the guests, as well as Herbert, Augusta and Sean, were staying in guest bedrooms in the main house, with the exception of Mr Vaughan, who had requested to stay in one of the cottages. Apparently he had some noisy habits. The guest rooms and master bedroom were on the first floor. The butler had his own flat on the lower floor, and since the secretary, Ms Felicity Hogsden, was his sister, she also lived in the same flat. The Matron had her flat too, and the rest of the servants lived on the top floor in the attic rooms.

Hogsden didn’t know much about the family’s finances. He shortly assured that all staff were paid at the appropriate time. Beyond that he didn’t find it his business to pry to the matters of the family. He, and all of the presently employed staff, had joined the family less than three years ago. There may have been some financial issues prior to that, but he was not aware of any such. And it was not his place to talk about it in any case.

“You should ask my sister. She helps the Lord and Lady with their financial matters. And she loves to talk.”

Lalli thought fondly of Ms Hogsden. She was a short, slightly roundish woman, very smart but always friendly. And very, very talkative, just like Hogsden had said.

“Well said, Mr Hogsden! We will talk to her next. Could you please...”

The door was thrown open. It was the boy Rowan again.

“I’m very sorry, ma’am, sirs, but a terrible thing has happened! A new terrible thing! Or more of the same terrible…”

“Snap out of it,” the Inspector commanded “and spit it out.”

“Ms Hogsden, the secretary, ma’am. She has…”

***

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO” Lalli woke up yelling and crying.

***

“Lalli! What? Why?” Emil was awakened by Lalli shaking him very vigorously.

“Don’t. You. Dare. Do. This. To. Me. Again. NEVER again! You hear me?” Lalli was hissing between his teeth.

“What did I do? I was sleeping! I didn’t do anything!” Emil protested. But Lalli was already gone. As was Emil’s current book, an exciting story by an apparently famous old world writer Agatha Christie.

Author’s note: What would the holidays be without a detective story? Do you have any theories?

Mod's edit: I went looking for the work's title when posting, and <facepalm> forgot to check the email's subject line </faceplam>

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 03, 2024, 03:03:39 AM

My pet theory: a certain portion of the fandom broke the fourth wall and took out Lord Torquil.
Against that argument is that none of the same fandom would have taken out the secretary.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: JoB on January 03, 2024, 12:59:46 PM

Quote from: wavewright62 on January 03, 2024, 02:48:36 AM

The numbers were just totally random numbers I came up with on the spot (I've never seen Lost?), but the teacher is totally going to play those numbers at the lottery despite what she said. I don't recommend playing those numbers in real life, though, because I'm not a lucky person (good or bad).

Headcanon: The teacher keeps playing those numbers every week for the better part of a year ... and then gets the idea of checking the lottery's result of the week before she heard of the "prophecy".

Quote from: wavewright62 on January 03, 2024, 02:58:51 AM

A brief interrogation of the cook revealed that Lord Westford had asked to arrange tea and biscuits for two people to be ready and delivered to the drawing room when he rang for it. So, after the call, it was definitely less than two minutes before the boy Rowan had stepped into the hallway.

(I note the implicit assumption that it was Lord Westford himself who did the ringing, implying that he was still alive at that point. Are we talking about a typical servant bell (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Servant_bell)? Get at the wire somehow somewhere in between and you, or your clockwork, do(es)n't even need to be in the drawing room to make it ring.)

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on January 03, 2024, 01:58:15 PM

JoB, good thinking! I’m envisioning it’s a rope which when pulled, rings a bell in the kitchen. The Lord did instruct the service to be prepared to in person, but the rope is just a rope.

Wave, speaking of names, I spent an inordinate amount of time coming up with the names again! And I still reused both Rowan and Émile, although I hope it’s very clear they are not the same Rowan and Émile as the members of the theater troop.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 03, 2024, 06:34:27 PM

re JoB's lottery analysis: bwahahahaha PERFECT! Headcanon accepted

re the ringing of the bell - You're displaying some genre savvy there. Like Poirot's mustaches and Holmes deerstalker cap, may we now add JoB's megaphone...

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 04, 2024, 01:23:46 AM

(http://i.imgur.com/RMfb3cD.png)

Welcome one and all to the 12th (and final) Day of Christmas for the year! It is with great delight that I leave with with this last treat by Gwenno, drawing from the deep well of Phandom! As Gwenno says:

"Here are the ~~Jeffs~~Cheths from the webcomic Phantomarine having fun playing boardgames (a common boxing day tradition for many families around here). Phantomarine was our comic of the month back in June 2022, and seems to have quite a few Minnions following it still :) "

(https://i.imgur.com/k16cfSD.jpg)

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 04, 2024, 01:32:06 AM

:squirrelcookie: :squirrelcookie: :squirrelcookie: :squirrelcookie: :squirrelcookie: :squirrelcookie: :squirrelcookie: :squirrelcookie: :squirrelcookie:

As well as Gwenno, may i also thank our other contributors for this 12 Days event (in no particular order): thegreyarea, Sol, Róisín, dmeck7755, Keep Looking, gjuerne, tehta, and last but not least Jitter (who took on a double assignment!) !!!

Spoiler: modesty prevents • show

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on January 04, 2024, 07:04:34 AM

Gwenno, I love the Jeffs and the lightning / background is lovely! I am one of the avid followers of Phantomarine, so thank you also for Linebyline for presenting it as a comic of the month!

Wave, the event’s execution was perfect as always. I think the new format starting from Christmas Eve is good, the run up to Christmas is very busy for many of us, and the Secret Santa event is also running prior to Christmas. And YoinkTober isn’t that far behind either in late November or early December. So, the later timing works better, and divides the content for a longer period for the audience too.

As for the murder mystery, I already confirmed JoB’s assumption it is possible that the ringing may have been by someone else than Lord Torquil himself. On Wave’s musings I would like to point out that Ms Felicity has… we don’t know what. Disappeared? Been hurt? Left? Gone missing? Lalli thinks Rowan is about to say she has been killed, but he wakes up before so maybe it’s something else?

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Keep Looking on January 04, 2024, 07:17:59 AM

Wave, thank you for coming up with this new event and I agree that the timing is good!

As for the last 3 works that I caught up on just now - Wave, yours definitely made me laugh! Jitter - tragically we will never know the answer to this murder mystery, but I suppose Lalli is very grateful of that fact! And Gwenno, what a wonderful artwork to round off the event!

Thanks to everyone who participated and a happy new year to all!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: dmeck7755 on January 04, 2024, 09:38:10 AM

Gwenno,

Love the Cheths and the art. I am also a huge fan of Phantomarine. I am glad linebyline had presented it also.

I have not had time to read the murder mystery yet. (Ton's of after hours work)

So far, I have loved all of the submissions and thank you

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: thorny on January 04, 2024, 12:11:15 PM

I also think the timing was good and although I didn't contribute I've read all the contributions with pleasure.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Gwenno on January 04, 2024, 05:30:28 PM

I'm glad that everyone's enjoying ~~Jeff~~Cheth's holiday traditions ;D

Thanks to everyone who's been filling the 12 days with such wonderful content, and an especially big thanks to Wave for organising it all! It's been a delight to have these little treats every day ^-^

I agree that the timing of the event worked well. It was much easier to find time to create something after Christmas itself, and it's nice to have festivities continuing after the holiday and have something to look forward to still!

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: wavewright62 on January 04, 2024, 05:41:05 PM

Quote from: Keep Looking on January 04, 2024, 07:17:59 AM

Jitter - tragically we will never know the answer to this murder mystery, but I suppose Lalli is very grateful of that fact!

WWHHAAAAT say it ain't so? Of course we want to read more!

ummm, assuming Jitter is willing to continue )T T( (<- lame attempt at finger-pointing emoji)

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on January 05, 2024, 06:38:00 AM

Well, Emil has woken up, so the dream may be gone? But I may be willing to respond to questions or suggestions >:D

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: JoB on January 05, 2024, 01:30:10 PM

Quote from: Jitter on January 05, 2024, 06:38:00 AM

Well, Emil has woken up, so the dream may be gone?

Quote from: wavewright62 on January 03, 2024, 02:58:51 AM

“Don’t. You. Dare. Do. This. To. Me. Again. NEVER again! You hear me?” Lalli was hissing between his teeth.
“What did I do? I was sleeping! I didn’t do anything!” Emil protested. But Lalli was already gone. As was Emil’s current book, an exciting story by an apparently famous old world writer Agatha Christie.

Headcanon 1: From now on, Lalli will hand Emil a different book on a completely perpendicular subject every evening, so as to prevent any kind of consistent "plot" forming across several nights' dreams.
Headcanon 2: When visiting Iceland a couple years later, Emil narrowly escapes imprisonment at the Academy of Seiður, whose staff is very eager to study "the most diverse and intensive prophetic dreams ever" in excruciating detail.
Headcanon 3: While cleaning up the resulting mess, Icelandic police arrests the dean's butler for the murder of a certain Lord Vestvað.

Title: Re: 12 Days of Christmas Event 2023
Post by: Jitter on January 05, 2024, 04:29:11 PM

Haha, I love your headcanons, particularly 3). This doesn’t happen every time Emil reads, but often enough for Lalli to have set him rules on bedtime reading. But the rule is to not read something that is so engrossing it will cause Dreams, and the problem is that it’s hard for Emil to tell beforehand. And sometimes the book is just so good that he reads anyways.

Usually these are fabrications of Emil’s brain just set in the milieu of the book (with the exception of the one when they were in Moria which I can’t find right now) so the murderer can’t be worked out by checking all of Dame Agatha’s works :) Or actually it probably needs Lalli too for the dream ro be so coherent, but mostly it’s in Emil’s mind. Or perhaps his dreampace?

The Stand Still, Stay Silent Fan-Forum

Creative Corner => Events Board => Topic started by: wavewright62 on December 24, 2023, 01:31:53 AM