Forum Secret Santa 2022

[Keep Looking]

Last call for signups in case anybody's missed it! I'll be closing signups and assigning secret santas tomorrow.

And thank you to the people who've already signed up! It's you who make this possible, of course.

[Keep Looking]

Alrighty! Signups are closed, and I've sent out everybody's secret santas. Thanks to everyone who's signed up to participate! Remember to send me your gifts by the 20th of December. Have fun!

[wavewright62]

*flops after finally getting my work done*
I forget how this runs - can we post the work on AO3 or other social media before the 31st, if the recipient has guessed correctly?

[Keep Looking]

*flops after finally getting my work done*
I forget how this runs - can we post the work on AO3 or other social media before the 31st, if the recipient has guessed correctly?

Yes, I think that should be alright!

[Keep Looking]

Happy holidays, folks! All secret santas have been sent out. Let the guessening begin!

[dmeck7755]

Do we just guess? or post our gift and let others guess also?  I am unsure how this works

[Jitter]

I received this lovely poem!

GIFT FOR JITTER: A MIDWINTER DELIGHT

Mikkel to Sigrun: A Proposal

Dear Captain, come, share my Midwinter dream.
Here where we stand on your Norwegian Hills
Amid the snow and silence. Listen well
While I recount the thoughts that I would share.

We have lived through adventure, dangers, days
When there seemed little hope we might survive
Or ever come to safety with our lives.
Yet you stood by me, steady, brave and true.

I felt your fear, and yet no outward sign
Showed as you held that constant forward face
That led us out of danger and despair,
And into hope and life. Courage and and grace
You bring to all you do. Here, by your side,
As anchor, comfort, partner: let me bide!

My guess as to the maker of this is

Spoiler: show

Róisín

[dmeck7755]

I received this amazing story:

It's the middle of the night when you hear a soft tap, tap, tapping on your window. Peering outside, you see a flash of something silvery, streaking away towards your front door. Fumbling your way out of bed, you make your way through the house and crack open the front door, letting in a whoosh of outside air that smells like Christmastime, whatever that smells like for you. On your doorstep is a package. You pick it up, curious as to what is inside.

Spoiler: Selections from the narrative of a traveler in time as recounted to his friends • show

Spoiler: Arrival • show

The air was warm around me when I regained consciousness; I had certainly left winter behind with the 19th Century, but how many winters had interposed on my flight? When I went back to the machine, I found the dials had all popped their movements in the shock of the crash, so there was no help for me there.

I was sore all over, and even bleeding from a few minor cuts on my arms and face, but setting those aside I was all right. I would probably need some help in restoring my machine to properly working order, though, so I must needs do what I had intended to before the crash: find the natives and try to learn all I could about this fascinating future in which I found myself.

Having removed the control lever and thus rendered my machine immobile (or so I thought), I went off in search of aid, following the sound of running water, since I could see no works of man nearby. When I reached the swift river that was the source of the sounds I had followed, I beheld a frightful tableau.

Gathered around near a small waterfall were around a score of short blond people; they were so slight and androgynous that I couldn’t tell whether any individual in the group was male or female, but it was what they were all intently watching that caught my attention as well: there was a girl in the river, and she was in distress.

The girl was struggling against the current, obviously trying to reach the small waterfall, and losing. All the onlookers wore scornful expressions; not one face showed any hint of sympathy. I later learned that these folk were of the belief that all of their group should be as strong as possible; the weak were to suffer the consequences of their weakness rather than be aided by their stronger fellows. Ironically enough, this had led to a decline in their physical strength, as none of them wanted to try to do anything that might lead to a display of weakness. Thus, the desire to appear strong led to an ever-increasing indolence encouraged by their keepers—but that is a part of the tale I must save for later.

As I have said, the Eloi (for so I learned their name to be, though much later) were standing on the river banks watching the girl struggle to reach the falls. This vigil was kept in utter and profound silence until the girl gave a scream of despair and went under.

I could no longer stand aside, though I was alone in that regard. Being a fairly strong swimmer myself, it took only a few terrible moments for me to reach the girl’s limp form as the water carried it away. She’d given up when she’d failed, which aided my efforts to rescue her immensely.

Once I had her safely on the bank, I strove to empty her lungs of the water she’d inhaled when she’d surrendered. I succeeded well enough for her to begin coughing and retching up the rest after another few moments.

Once she had her breath back, the girl spoke, in a quiet yet musical voice. “Diolch i chi am achub fy mywyd. Edwina dwi. Rwy’n imiwn, ac rwy’n gweddio eich bod chi hefyd.”

I had not the least earthly idea of what she had said, and told her so. She frowned.

“Mae gen i rhywfaint o Saesneg, er gallai’m ei siarad. Edwina dwi. Gallwch fy ngalw’n Weena.” At my continued blank gaze, she repeated, in that slow, distinct way people use when talking to mental defectives, “Weena,” and gestured to her chest. It was only then that I realized that she was naked; I hurriedly put my smoking jacket around her, since I’d left it on the bank and it was dry.

The girl nodded her thanks and repeated, still gesturing at herself, “Weena.” Then she sniffed at the lapels of my smoking jacket; I believe it was the faint residual odor of tobacco lingering in the fabric that intrigued her.

I finally took the hint. “That’s what you’re called is it? Weena?” She nodded. “I don’t suppose you know the date right off the top of your head, do you?”

She looked at me, half in confusion, half in pity. “Ydych chi wedi bod yn crwydro’r gwyllt gyn hired nad ydych chi’n ymwybodol o’r amser? Y Flwyddyn Naw deg ydi hi.”

Whatever the tongue in which she spoke was, she spoke it beautifully. I wondered whether it was some distant descendant of English or whether some other language now ruled what had once been Great Britain. Either way, this must be the far future indeed.

The others were gathering around us by now, but they all kept at least six feet apart from us. Several of them jabbered quietly away at Weena; her answers seemed to satisfy them, for they gestured at me that I should accompany them…

Spoiler: The Eloi • show

The journey was much longer than I had anticipated, both in terms of distance and in how much time it took to get there, since we stopped every few hundred yards for the others to get their wind back. At one of these stops, they made me drink from a special pouch one of them produced; the taste told me that it was laudanum or some similar sleeping draught, but since Weena seemed to have no objections, I drank as much as they wanted me to. By the time they got me back to their main compound, I was barely awake enough to hear a gruff voice, less androgynous than the others, talking to Weena. “Mae wedi ei anafu, felly bydd yn rhaid iddo gael ei hunan ynysu nes y byddwn yn gwybod.” There was more—a fiery retort from Weena, at least, and I think a reply—but I was too far gone to make it out as I tumbled into unconsciousness.

My awakening this time was rather more disconcerting than the first: they’d stripped me naked and put me in a room that was not unlike a big box while I was unconscious; I was locked away in there for two weeks. My captors fed me through a slit in the door by the floor, but I never saw them, though I could feel them watching me all the time I was in there.

I was a bit confused by this enforced isolation at first, but then I remembered the extreme repulsion towards all things injured or diseased in even the minutest degree they had displayed during the trek here; certainly my confinement was long enough for my wounds to heal, since they were mostly superficial cuts and bruises.

In the room was a pad of rather delicate and aged paper and a most miraculous pen that never smeared, blotched, or ran dry, so I passed the time in writing many things: my plans to repair my machine; a few improvements based on the experiences of my trip; questions to ask the natives; and this account (only to this point, of course; I took pad and pen with me to write the rest).

After two full weeks had passed, the door to my cell opened and two large apparitions walked in; after a startled moment, I realized that they were Eloi in some kind of weird suits.

The suits reminded me strongly of the ones the oceanographers have begun to use recently on their deeper dives; thus encumbered, the two Eloi put me through a rigorous and comprehensive examination before they would give me my clothes. I must have passed by whatever criteria they held me to, since they allowed me my freedom as soon as I had donned my garments, now long since dry but rather bedraggled. I thought their laundresses must be only marginally competent at best.

Walking out of the chamber, I met Weena emerging from a similar room. She took my arm and led me forth through a labyrinth of corridors and into a great open space filled with tables around which the Eloi congregated to feast. Weena guided me to the one with the fewest seated at it.

Even after we seated ourselves, there was a little circle of empty space around me at the table; Weena was the only one to break into it. While I saw several of the Eloi direct disparaging looks her way, this tacit disapproval only seemed to heighten her resolve to stay at my side.

At last, one of the onlookers from earlier came to stand near Weena. Their conversation, like all the talk I heard in that land, was conducted softly; this time, I couldn’t make out a single word of what was said. The expression on Weena’s face, however, told me all I needed to know. She turned and slunk away into one of the corridors.

Through much prodding, I was able to tease out what was happening through gesticulations and attitudes in a dumbshow worthy of Grimaldi, the upshot being that since Weena had proved that she was weak but I had intervened and she lived, she was to be cast out of their society on the next morning.

I must confess that I did not take this news at all well; in fact, I stormed out from the Eloi compound into the open air, infuriated by their rejection of Weena. Since her kin were intent upon casting her out of her home, I was going to get my machine and bring Weena home with me.

The journey back took much less time, since there were no Eloi to slow me; I reckoned that I could drag my machine back to the main compound before dark, jump back to right after I left, and get Weena without any more troubles.

Of course, this plan was predicated on my being able to find my machine.

I stood there like an idiot until the sun had almost fully set before I made myself accept the truth: someone had taken my machine. The thieves had dragged it away, leaving clear marks for anyone who cared to see; obviously, they weren’t the least afraid of pursuit. I intended to make them regret this hubris.

The light was still bright enough for me to follow the gouges in the earth to a set of bronze doors set in the side of a building atop which sat a great Sphinx…

Spoiler: The Morlocks • show

The Great Sphinx seemed to sneer down at me as I stood contemplating the doors at its base. The whole building was seemingly without join, at least insofar as I could tell in the uncertain light, and from its base to the crown of the Sphinx’s head it must have risen at least sixty feet.

The doors bore no ornamentation, nor even a handle; they were sliding doors, and obviously meant to be opened and closed strictly from the inside. I could see that my plans needed some adjustment, and that those adjustments would be better contemplated out of my enemies’ view, so I went off to find a good place to spend the night.

Despite being no great shakes at pursuits in the Great Outdoors, I managed to locate and set up a decent enough campsite for myself. Once I was finished, however, there was nothing left to occupy my mind but the alternating problems of Weena and my machine.

I could not believe that it was the Eloi who had taken my machine, nor that the Great Sphinx was their handiwork; the Eloi compound was vastly different from that sullen mass, and the Eloi would never have managed to drag my machine so far without frequent pauses, which the tracks would have shown but didn’t. Instead, it looked like just one man had pushed my machine all the way into the Sphinx. I could have managed it myself, but none of the Eloi I’d seen could.

My campsite was in a clearing in the middle of a stand of trees and bushes, which I expected to act as my first line of defense since I had strewn sticks and branches around every avenue of approach. The wisdom of this plan was borne out when I heard someone approaching.

Since I knew the direction from which they were approaching, arranging an ambush was child’s play; I simply hid myself adjacent to their line of travel and waited. There was only one of them that I could see, and a small one at that. When the small figure reached the right point, I jumped out from my hiding place and grabbed… Weena.

I was amazed. The doorkeepers at the Eloi compound hadn’t wanted to let me leave, even before sunset; despite my not understanding their language, they had given me to understand that there was something in the dark that they feared above all else. My fury had been so great, however, that they’d let me past at last.

Weena had dared the darkness to make sure I was safe.

I had, of course, frightened her badly by my ambush, but when I lit a match, she was transfixed; I gathered matches were not the commonplace they were in my day. This was borne out by the fact that I had never seen the source of any of the lights in the Eloi compound; presumably, they were artificial, perhaps after the manner of Mr Edison’s bulbs.

When I blew the match out, Weena babbled something that almost certainly meant, “Do it again, please!” I didn’t have so many matches with me that I could afford to waste any more for sheer amusement’s sake, so I shook my head and led her back to the campsite proper.

Weena babbled something at me again, but this time my ears picked out a word that sounded different. “Morlocks?” I asked her. “Is that the name of whatever it is you’re all so afraid of?” She nodded, her eyes still wide with fear. “Well, I’m sure what I’m about to do will keep them away.”

There was enough kindling and such around the campsite for a hundred such fires as the one I built to ward off Weena’s fears. She was fascinated by it; like the match I had lit for her before, the sight of it seemed to drive the fear out of her in a heartbeat, so I pulled her into my arms and held her until she slept.

The fire was burning low when the white things crept out of the darkness and attacked us. Now, I had been expecting something of the kind, so I’d left Weena by the fire as bait while I watched from a nearby tree; that was how I got the jump on them.

The vague white forms fled at my approach; evidently, they didn’t like prey that fought back. Their retreat was as nearly noiseless as their approach had been.

“Meow.”

Surprised by the homely sound, I looked back over at the fire. Perhaps a dozen cats had materialized on and around Weena, the first animal life I had seen in this place. They regarded me steadily but without fear or hostility as I made my way back, and Weena looked comfortable with their presence, so I simply built the fire back up again and slid back next to Weena…

Spoiler: The Culling • show

The pride of felines was still with us in the morning, and Weena and I were both quite content with their company. Unfortunately, the problem of my machine remained, so I couldn’t afford to play the day away as Weena so obviously expected.

Both Weena and the cats came with me on my trip to examine the Sphinx, though I was the only one to approach it at all closely. It looked even more impregnable in the daylight than it had in the twilight, and eventually I was forced to give it up.

“Meow.” One of the cats trotted off, the others following in its wake. Weena looked at me expectantly, so I followed as well. These were certainly quite aberrant cats, but then, they probably were much more highly evolved than the cats I had known in my time.

Weena needed to stop several times to get her wind back, but the cats always waited for us to catch up before darting on. The striking difference between their behavior and that of even the most domestic of cats from my day impressed itself upon me again, but only briefly.

The cats led us to what looked like a well; a glance around showed it was one of a number of similar small structures in the vicinity. When I looked down the shaft, I could see a series of metal protrusions conveniently placed to be hand- and footholds, while the breeze I felt indicated that these shafts served both as entry points and as ventilators for some great works below them.

I was certain that the key to retrieving my machine lay at the bottom of the shaft, so I positioned myself to descend, despite strong objections from Weena. I had barely begun the climb down when my head began to pound with the force of a mental imperative hammering into my brain.

“cOmE tO uS.” The command repeated itself over and over in my head, but, exerting my will to the utmost, I defied it.

Weena didn’t. She stood and walked into a stream of other Eloi answering the herder’s call to the slaughter pens. How else could she have behaved? The Eloi had been trained to do thus since birth, though they would only truly do so once in their lives. I raced to catch her, to break her free from the inimical summons, but I was too far behind, and this time, none of the somnambulists were pausing to catch their breath.

It was really like the streams of Eloi had simply risen from the ground in answer to the mental compulsion; I certainly hadn’t realized there were so many of them in the vicinity. Their sheer numbers made finding Weena impossible, the cats being no help at all in this matter, as they had all puffed up into nearly spherical balls of hissing fury. And all the time, the call continued.

The bronze doors were open to receive the influx of nourishment; the Eloi were so thick that I couldn’t see my machine. I saw Weena, though, in the middle of the crowd, a moment before the doors slid shut…

Spoiler: The Battle in the Dark • show

It only seemed a matter of seconds before I was back at the well and clambering up so I could clamber down to save Weena. While none of the Eloi were trying to help me, none were fool enough to hinder me, either.

There was still a gloomy light around where the wells debouched me, and I was able to see enough to find my way to where the victims were being herded; of course, the mental call actually assisted in this as well.

I was making no particular effort to hide, and as soon as I saw Weena, she saw me; apparently the sight was enough to get her to break free from the herders, who promptly came after the two of us. You all know that, while a bit out of practice now, at one time I interested myself in the study of the art of self-defense, and the herders learned that such study is never totally forgotten.

I felt the pressure of the mental call shift in a new direction. “dEsTrOy AnD bE fReE” was the new command, and it was rather obvious that I was the one to be destroyed. The Eloi surged towards Weena and me, but they were so slow, weak and clumsy as not to pose any real threat save by weight of numbers, which they had. They wouldn’t if I could find a way to free them, though.

The compulsion had faltered significantly when I had been beating the herders earlier, so I could only think that the best way to break the new compulsion would be to do as I had intended to already: locate and thrash each and every one of the cannibals that I could find.

I never saw more than two or three of the Morlocks at a time aboveground, though in my subterranean battles, I know that I fought many more. They were slight enough that I could pick them up and fling them at each other, but they were horribly strong.

The chief weapon and advantage I possessed was my box of matches, since the Morlocks were terribly sensitive to light. I could throw a lit match at them and attack while the brief flare had left them blind and stupid. On the other hand, my matchbox was getting frightfully empty as I tore through the Morlocks. I needed something more lasting, more potent.

In the fleeting light from my penultimate incendiary, I saw some sticks about the right size for torches in a pile; I had no idea why they were there, but that didn’t stop me from grabbing one and putting the last of my matches to it.

As it stubbornly refused to ignite, I demanded of Weena, “Give me something to burn; this is my last match.” She immediately tore one of the sleeves from her blouse and tossed it one the end of the brand I was trying to ignite.

The torch flared into life and became a burning brand for me to brandish. As some of the other Eloi broke free of the fading mental calls, they grabbed sticks of their own and lit them from mine, and soon, the whole area was free of the Morlocks.

It really seemed as though the whole place had been designed to be as inflammable as possible; even the liquid in the open drains lit up when a spark reached it.

I led my small army back up through the wells into the open air, all of us coughing and wheezing from the ever-thickening smoke. The cats welcomed us, and even accompanied us back to my campsite.

The next morning, one of the others pulled me back over to where I could see the Great Sphinx. The bronze doors were fully open, and my machine was in plain view…

Spoiler: The Final Trap • show

I knew it was supposed to be a trap, but I still had the control lever on me, so I also knew that the Morlocks had given me more of an opportunity than they were aware. I called for Weena to follow me and raced into the yawning opening. I even reached my machine before the Morlocks decided to spring the trap.

The bronze doors slammed shut right before Weena got to them. I heard her pounding on the metal in her desperation to reach me.

Then I smelled the Morlocks.

The blackness was absolute, and I was out of matches or any other means to illuminate the chamber they’d trapped me in, but their stench was unmistakable.

They were fast but they were also almost repugnantly soft; whenever one of my blows landed, I felt flesh give way. I landed blows that cracked a Morlock’s skull more than once, but there always seemed to be another one slipping in to gnaw at me.

Finally I was able to get into the saddle and screw the lever into position, whereupon the panel’s dim lights shone forth like braziers burning in the gloom, revealing where my enemies were. As another Morlock jumped at me, shielding its eyes against the light, I set the machine in motion and effected my escape.

I had noticed on my earlier trip that my progress through time was accompanied by a slow but perceptible movement in space, a movement that I had neither anticipated nor desired, but which was to be my salvation. Just slipping backward a day or so was enough to get me out of the chamber and clear of the Great Sphinx; immediately I had brought the machine to a gentle stop, I pushed the machine away from the Sphinx, remounted the saddle, and set the machine to creep forward until I saw Weena at the doors.

I almost hadn’t moved the machine far enough: the machine was barely a quarter of an inch away from the bronze doors. Before I could contemplate what would have happened if I’d been a foot closer, Weena had turned and seen me. She and maybe a dozen others lifted the machine with me still inside and took me away from the Sphinx.

Weena sobbed as I held her. “Rwy’n dy garu di! Peidiwch byth a gwneud hynny i mi eto!”

I kept making soothing noises to her until the storm was finally past.

All of us were welcomed back into the Eloi compound, though via another fortnight’s sojourn in the isolation cells; this time, they let Weena stay with me.

There are many things I have yet to learn about this place, and apparently many things that I can teach the Eloi, if they’ll let me…

Spoiler: The Epilogue • show

This is the substance of the tale the Time Traveler set down (for the handwriting is certainly his), but the mystery of its appearance in a trunk that had mouldered in some attic since the 1790s is, I fear, beyond solving, since the final pages were ruined by water sometime in the interim…

I wish to thank the person who wrote this for me.  I truly enjoyed it.
My guess is:

Spoiler: show

Grey!!
BTW, It has been years since I read the time machine.  Like your version better

[dmeck7755]

I received this lovely poem!

GIFT FOR JITTER: A MIDWINTER DELIGHT

Mikkel to Sigrun: A Proposal

Dear Captain, come, share my Midwinter dream.
Here where we stand on your Norwegian Hills
Amid the snow and silence. Listen well
While I recount the thoughts that I would share.

We have lived through adventure, dangers, days
When there seemed little hope we might survive
Or ever come to safety with our lives.
Yet you stood by me, steady, brave and true.

I felt your fear, and yet no outward sign
Showed as you held that constant forward face
That led us out of danger and despair,
And into hope and life. Courage and and grace
You bring to all you do. Here, by your side,
As anchor, comfort, partner: let me bide!

My guess as to the maker of this is

Spoiler: show

Róisín

Beautiful poem.  I have not read any prose from the person you guessed, so I will just enjoy it and remain silent

[thegreyarea]

Wow, so many amazing gifts! And I got one myself!!!

Spoiler: Open the Door • show

Somebody is Very Upset

Lalli heard it first.

Someone was upset.

Very upset – the longer the string of curses got, the more Lalli was tempted to cover his ears to shut out the onslaught.  Then he noticed Onni looking in the direction of the cursing, his perpetual frown deepening.

The cursing was coming from somewhere behind where he was seated.  Emil had chosen the wide sofa in the middle of the room, and Lalli sat on the floor next to him, resting his back on that sofa.  He’d been fidgeting with the cube they'd picked up at Kolinportti. (Someday he would figure out how it worked.)

The stupid Icelander was somewhere behind him, no doubt trying to brush out his stupid hair after sauna.  That might be who Onni was frowning at?  He couldn’t turn around and look, because the idiot and all of his stupid hair would come over and try to speak Finnish to them and he’d get his stupid hair everywhere.

Looking around surreptitiously, Lalli saw Emil's expression hadn’t changed; he was still flushed and particularly vacant-looking while relaxing after sauna, but managed a smile when Lalli looked at him. Most of the people in the inn's common room within his vision looked similarly undisturbed by the escalating imprecations upon all of the ancestors of whomever had offended them.  The innkeeper's daughter was frowning, but then again she'd had the bad judgement to be playing cards with the big Dane.  He was probably cheating her.

Ah.  A spirit, then.  Not a grossling – the cursing was coherent, at any rate.  Old Satan and all of their body parts were getting around somebody's whole family, that much was certain.

Onni had needed a good place to rest after going after Grandma on his own, and Lalli could keep an eye on Onni.  This inn was old and had a full complement of spirits of its own, as well as a healthy population in the forest, river and lake surrounding it.  The innkeepers looked after the spirits, and they in turn helped keep things running smoothly.  It was a decent enough place to spend the winter, away from Keuruu.

It was a pity some people in their party didn't see it that way.  Sigrun had been obnoxiously vocal at first about being 'stuck' here when they’d missed the last boat out.  Lalli couldn’t see what was so great about Norway anyway – they didn’t even have a sauna in her barracks over there.  At least she had the good sense to enjoy taking sauna here.

As though on cue, Sigrun came striding across the common room dressed in a bathrobe, fresh from sauna.  She was holding one of the little pottles from the dining hall, scooping out something with her finger and licking it happily. Lalli realised what was happening even as he heard Onni's sharp intake of breath next to him.

That crazy Norwegian woman was eating the rice pudding the innkeepers had left for the saunatonttu, the spirit who looked after the sauna!

Thank you so much, mysterious author, for this marvelous gift! I really enjoyed both the story and the drawing, and there's a smile fixed on my face!
And my guess about the author is:

Spoiler: show

Wave, unless someone else learned to draw just like her!

As for Jitter's gift, I feel she guessed right

[LooNEY_DAC]

* LooNEY_DAC is happy

Here's the gift I got:

Spoiler: Open the Package • show

Reynir's winter

When they got stuck in Finland, Reynir was bummed out at first. Admittedly, there were good sides to it. He now had the perfect excuse for why he couldn’t immediately return home, so he braved his mum and let her know he was safe and sound. With any luck, she would cool down before he got back. Well, maybe not completely, but it just might save him from being disowned.

Autumn was a pleasant surprise. The autumn colours at home were beautiful, of course. But when the trees changed colour to gold, orange, yellow… it was magical. Also, it again reminded him that he was all the time surrounded by trees, a miracle in itself. Funny how easy it was to get used to something that grand so quickly.

After the leaves had fallen and the weather got colder, Reynir was expecting another winter like the last one in the Silent World. Sitting inside, still somewhat cramped (at least it won’t be anything like the Cattank), and probably getting very very bored. No life-threatening attacks were to be expected. Which was good. Very, very good. Just the way it should be. He did not miss adventure one bit! It was great to be able to have a breather! Still, it would have been good to have something to Help with.

The first snow came, and… stayed. Then there was more. And more. Reynir was delighted. At home they got snowfall, of course, but usually it melted quickly. And even when it stayed on the ground, the incessant Arctic winds would freeze you to the core. Reynir had been up north visiting some relatives, and they had lots of snow, but there the wind was even worse! But here, it was beautiful. Snow covered the trees, the houses, the ice (the lake had frozen over and was already strong enough to walk on) and everything in a pristine whiteness quite unlike anything else.

He had made friends with the town children. Being from southern Iceland he hadn’t learned to ski. At first, he was a bit embarrassed to train with the kids, but it was so nice that he soon forgot his worries. There were skiing lanes all around the islands, so it was easy to get around after he got the hang of it. Sometimes Lalli and Emil let him tag along with them, and sometimes even Onni went out with him. Skiing on the lake in bright sunshine was incredibly lovely. Reynir was starting to understand why everybody else but the Icelanders liked winter so much (being relatively free of trolls also helped of course).

The best of the best about winter were the days when the snow was just soft enough to make snowballs. The kids built snowmen. Reynir started to build one of his own, but it kept getting bigger and bigger! The children gathered around to see what he was making. He added several arms.

“Hey, Renni, what is it? It has too many hands!”

“It is a very bad troll!” Reynir’s Finnish was bad, but the children mostly understood him.

“Oh wow, really? Have you seen a troll?”

“I have seen very many trolls! They can look very scary. Like this!” He added large eyes and a gaping mouth, with many teeth. “Be careful! It will EAT you!” The children screamed with delight.

As was to be expected, at some point the children decided to attack the snow troll with snowballs. Some of the snowballs “accidentally” landed on Reynir too. Soon there was a full battle ongoing!

Now a new enemy approached! Reynir hid into the shrubbery, readying his aim. Just… a little… closer… SMACK! Direct hit on Onni’s mane! Tee hee hee! Reynir was crouching behind the bushes, and Onni only saw the kids.

But Onni had knew that the town kids would never dare to throw a snowball at a noita, a Hotakainen no less, so he figured out what must have happened. He had played snow war too! He pretended to scold the kids and walked away, only to circle around and approach the battlefield from another direction. And yes of course, here was Reynir, squatting in his fort, next to the ugliest snowman Onni had ever seen. This was almost easy. Almost. Onni breathed just a few words, and suddenly the snow troll started shaking and teetering, and fell on top of Reynir with a satisfying SMACK. Reynir yelped and spluttered but seeing Onni smirking at him he scooped a handful of snow to retaliate. Unfortunately, he missed, hitting Sigrun instead.

“Why you little… This is mutiny! I’ll show you!” Sigrun was ready for battle!

Soon the entire team was running around and dodging, whilst trying to hit everyone else. Sigrun had the most accurate arm, and Emil had the best evasive dives. Lalli was the best at sneaking around and shoving a snowball right down one’s jacket. It was complete mayhem!

After everyone was thoroughly covered in snow, Sigrun finally declared the battle to be over. It was time for sauna to warm up. And maybe some nettle tea. Reynir loved the winter in Finland. What good luck that they had missed the last ship out!

* LooNEY_DAC is happy

...Oh, wait. I was supposed to drop a guess as to the gifter. Hmmmmmmm.

* LooNEY_DAC is thinking

* LooNEY_DAC has no clue... yet

[Jitter]

I agree with Dmeck as to the writer of that tale And with Grey’s guess about his gift as well.

[Mirasol]

I got a gift!!! And it´s so cool!!! I´ve been grinning for the past ten minutes!!!



Here it is:



Thank you thank you thank you, dear gifter!!!
Look at the Notoros! And the little Sleipnope! And the Kade, dead bird inclusive! And the crew! Aaah, I´m noticing more details everytime I look! And all of it in Jinx´s grafitti-style!

But who made this...? I´m really not sure...

Spoiler: show

perhaps it was dmeck?

[dmeck7755]

Mirasol,

That is amazing artwork.  Unfortunately it is not me.  It is amazing and beautiful.

[wavewright62]

Guessing, schmessing, lookit at this amazing gift

Spoiler: show

Mirasol!

made meeeeee

What if the Owl House was set in the World of SSSS...

... and the characters lived in Y105 Saimaa instead of the Boiling Isles?

Spoiler: Characters • show

Edalyn Clawthorne, Eyes of Barn Owls
Age .................. mid-forties
Nationality ...... Finn
Immunity ........ yes
Profession ....... Sentinel Mage, stationed at the Vuohisaari-station
Luonto ............. Barn Owl
Languages ......
While she of course does care a lot about the security of the area (and various freeloaders) she has to protect, her job is also an excellent excuse to hoard Old-World-things.

Hooty, Familiar
Age .................. 6? At least Eda found him 6 years ago
Species ............ Barn Owl
Profession ....... scaring off trolls and everyone else who wants to bother Eda, arguing with Lilith´s Raven
Languages ...... Hoot!
He was simply there one day. Legend has it he has singlehandedly killed a troll once. At least he must have gotten those bones from somewhere…

Owlbert
Age .................. 2 years
Species ............ Pygmy Owl
Profession ....... being adorable
Languages ...... Hoot
Not a familiar, just an owl that fell out of his nest as a baby and was taken in by Eda. Her favorite child, who never gets in trouble for anything.

Luz Noceda
Age .................. 14 years
Nationality ...... Finn (Norwegian?)
Immunity ........ yes
Profession ....... "student" (pretty much adopted daughter) of the Owl Sentinel
Fylgia ............. Dog
Languages ...... (native), (a bit)
Eda ran into her in the Silent World when she was a toddler and took her in. Her biggest dream is to become a powerful mage like the Owl Sentinel. Something that became a lot easier once they realized she can´t cast spells because her parents must have been foreigners. She´s a Seiðkona!

The King of Trolls (King)
Age .................. presumably as old as Luz
Species ............ hard to tell. Some kind of dog?
Profession ....... Luz´s Fylgia
Languages ...... Languages don´t exist in the dreamworld
A Fylgia with delusions of grandeur. Namely, that he could take down every Rashling in the world himself! So long as it´s in the Dreamworld, at least. And preferably from his vantage point on Luz´s shoulder. Tiny legs, you know?

Lilith Clawthorne, Eyes of Ravens
Age .................. late-forties
Nationality ...... Finn
Immunity ........ yes
Profession ....... Sentinel Mage, stationed at the Mustinsaari-station
Luonto ............. Raven
Languages ......
She takes her profession very seriously. No time for fooling around with treasure hunting, or placing aesthetics above safety, or – okay, the staff is kinda cool…

The White Raven
Age .................. 7 years
Species ............ a regular raven that happens to be white
Profession ....... screeching in the middle of the night, arguing with Hooty
Languages ...... Caw!
Lilith´s favorite familiar who she has raised herself. This name is more akin to a title, suitably mysterious for his station at the side of one of the country´s most powerful mages. His actual name is something way more cutesy only the Raven Sentinel is allowed to call him.

Amity Blight
Age .................. 14 years
Nationality ...... Finn
Immunity ........ no
Profession ....... student of the Raven Sentinel
Luonto ............. Brown Bear
Languages ......
The youngest child of a famous mage couple who set their kids very high standarts. Not being immune only made her twice as determined to meet them.

The Saimaa defense council has put their plan to station more Sentinel Mages around Saimaa to practice in Y92, having the inhabited area safeguarded by a total of twelve powerful mages, with the original four to oversee two of the new ones each.



settlements / Sentinel Stations / Eda & Lilith´s stations

Happy Holidays, Wave!