The big lady's kneeling was appreciated. Where Scrimblo lacked a formal neck, and the confidence to lift their lid wider, they did have well toned thighs that allowed them to lean back to look up at the tall-folk, albeit with some strain on the hamstrings. The tall lady was not a toy? That was interesting, and if given the time they would've pondered the nature of her further. "Toy ring, okay." Scrimblo nodded - or rocked back and forth rather, its lid knocking up and down.
“If I may, can I ask your name?” The snow seemed to coalesce around her hand as she reached for the broken glasses Scrimblo held, leaving a long white glove in its wake. Scrimblo did not hmph, but instead gave the glasses and broken arm happily.
"Box name." The box-person reached for a small tag that dangled off its lid by a curly ribbon and held it out to Yume. Scrimblo was written on the ornate tag in intricately curled cursive letters. "Name, Scrimblo." They said, laying a burly hand against its chest..? Front? "Box Elf."
“There doesn’t seem to be a body, so did they take Santa alive?”
"Boss Man fight? Who?" Scrimblo looked back to the red spot. "Find more things?"
. . . I could never hold enough of you in my hands . . .
“PLEASE…” Rain Dasher whispered, his voice cracking at the expense of the little energy he had left. Sometime during the heroine’s monologue light left the reindeer’s eyes. His head fell back to the ground, lifeless, before her last question.
Late as always, Trixie trudged through the snow, cigarette in hand, her hair pulled back and bangs and trench coat billowing in the wind. She looks around assessing the scene. She is looking at pure chaos from the bloody mess, destroyed buildings, and dead reindeer.
"Who did Santa piss off now?" Trixie walked towards the door of the workshop. She peaked in as she finished off her smoke and saw several people. There was a man who looked to be another fellow detective but not someone she knew, then a regal looking lady with a scarlet dress, who's name she caught. There was something she was talking to but didn't see until Yume bent down.
"A box person???" Trixie thought. That's a new one. Trixie put out her cigarette and walked in. "Hello guys. Sorry I'm late. What we got?"
Post by Paperbag Fill on Dec 17, 2022 23:02:58 GMT
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Yume Furostomi.
A name I knew little of. Perhaps later I could look her up. She sounded important enough. Appeared important enough too with how she was dressed. My thoughts on her as well as my suspicions in how she may be connected to the carnage were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Small footsteps yet heavy and meaty. The box troll. My eyes narrowed towards this small figure. I could almost see pointed ears underneath that present lid. A box elf? Did he know what happened?
Apparently not, as the box elf pointed to where he found a pair of glasses, holding them out. I stepped back suddenly as Yume returned to her natural size, removing the ring before moving to take the glasses. A frown formed. Perfect. Let the civvies handle all the evidence now. At least their conversaiton lended itself to learning the box elf's name. Scrimblo.
"Alright. My name is Logan. And Yume," I gestured to the woman and the box elf,"Can you make some gloves for our box friend here? I don't want him touching things and risking mucking them up. No offense, Scrimblo. Any evidence should probably be set at one, relatively clean table so we can cross-examine them."
I looked back at the comic book. I doubt Santa would leave his things behind, but, while the glasses appeared to be knocked off of him, the ring had been left atop this comic. Perhaps the comic was important, perhaps not. But the fact it was not taken by the people who assaulted this place did raise questions. Did they not see if left here, did they not know its function, or perhaps not care for it? And why would it be left here, not on the ground somewhere. Perhaps it was set down before the attack and not after?
I had only questions. I could not make any working theories. But I had ideas. Ideas like if the ring were magical, perhaps the glasses were as well? Only one way to find out. Besides, this would be an opportunity to place nice with these people, who were very well could be suspects to this case, but starting a fight or trying to interrogate a magical person rarely went so well. Lots of damages.
Yeah, let's avoid that shitshow, shall we?
"Yume, can I see those glasses? And hold the ring out in front of you. I got a few ideas," I opened my hand out, waiting, and continued to explain, "The glass might be magical as well, and we do have a comic book and a threatening letter over by the mail room. Perhaps looking at them from a new point of view might help. And I'm curious if the ring and glasses will interact in any way."
Before I could do anything further or even accept the glasses, another voice echoed within the toyshop. I turned around with my hand ready on the firearm. She was asking what we got. Who the hell was she?
"Excuse me. Who the hell are you?"
I raised up a hand, not yet wanting her to talk. I turned my attention to the group, taking a few steps back.
"Okay. Let's start this from the top. Everyone give a name and reason for being here. Here. I'll go first."
I pulled my badge out, flashing it towards them, before tucking it away.
"I'm Detective Logan. I investigate supernatural problems for the supernatural world. I got called to investigate this place. Now, let's start with you, trenchcoat," I pointed to the new girl to speak.
My eyes scanned the toyshop before retuning to the group.
"After we get introductions out of the way and any possible suspicions, we might need to case the joint. See if we're actually alone here."
My eyes flickered upstairs before falling upon the desks. Any of these were perfect hiding spots or someone could be hiding upstairs.
Last Edit: Dec 17, 2022 23:03:49 GMT by Paperbag Fill
Trixie rolls her eyes and gave a big sigh. "What a jerk," she thought. "Alright detective asshole," she says as she too pulls out her badge. She stared Logan dead in the eye "Bellatrix Fowler Supernatural Special Victims Unit. Was assigned to this case soon after you. Told me I'd be meeting an investigation team, not a jerkwad. Anyways you guys can call me Trixie. So who is everyone else?" Trixie crossed her arms and looked to the others, glaring out the corner of her eye at Logan.
Further down the room there was a muffled thud, quiet enough that one would only listen if he or she paid lots of attention. Another sound, this time a bit louder - and another - until a bunch of gift wrapped boxes fell from the huge pile under the christmas tree.
Amongst the boxes there was a woman, wrapped in shimmery golden paper, with her eyes and mouth covered by a red ribbon. She tried to release herself, but whoever wrapped her up did a really good job.
[attr="style","border: 2px yellow solid;padding:10px;"] "Oh, no! Not Dasher!" Diva's heartfelt wail at the timely demise of the last reindeer no doubt captured the attention of the entire audience.
Actually, now that he was dead, there really wasn't much of an audience around here at all, was there? Well, then, that was her cue that it was time to be moving on. She made her way out of the stables and into the Workshop proper, where she arrived - of course - just in the St. Nick of time to see a surfeit of boxes tumbling down beneath a Christmas tree.
Diva was always arriving places at exactly the most exciting moment. It was a particular talent. There were other people there, which was excellent, because it meant that she now had sidekicks. If one of them died tragically, the ratings would be astronomical! Of course, she could get the same rating boost by saving them from certain doom, so she supposed that she would just have to see how that played out.
In the meantime, there was the pile of presents to be tended to - and not just presents, but something else was there too, a woman all wrapped up in holiday paper with a red ribbon.
"Oh, honey!" Diva gasped, absolutely appalled at this horrendous indignity, her gaze looking the woman up and down, "What are you wearing?!"
Was he hoping that the glasses would reveal some sort of hidden message? It wasn’t a bad thought she supposed, one never knew what exactly Santa had up his sleeve. As asked, Yume handed over the broken glasses before placing the ring on her palm and holding it out for the detective to inspect. Before he could get to his work however two newcomers made their entrance, another detective and a woman in tights.
What a strange collection of individuals.
Yume, now feeling a little more awkward, kept her hand with the ring held out. “It is nice to meet you, I am Yume Furostomi, and the delightful fellow behind me is Scrimbo the boxelf.” Yume said, hoping to keep introductions short. The woman in tights had already made her way over to a recent avalanche of presents, and more importantly to the wiggling shape of a person all wrapped up underneath.
“Oh!” Yume said, she turned away from the two detectives and made her way over to the tree. Flakes of snow again swirled around her hand, this time condensing into a clear knife of ice. “Let's get this poor woman unwrapped.”
//... into the dark she stepped, but never did she feel free of the gaze...//
Post by Paperbag Fill on Dec 19, 2022 19:34:13 GMT
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Detective Asshole. How original. I simply rolled my eyes and shook my head. Perfect. We had a hotshot part of a special victims unit. Yes, I am sure she was all that and a bag of coffee. Now, back to the investigation because I am not having a dick-waving competition with this lady.
I took hold of the glasses before bringing them up to my eyes, peering through them. First, at the ring to see if there were any clues. Then, to the comic book. I checked to see if anything of particular notice or perhaps magical would happen. However, any observations I took hold of had to wait. I spun around as another voice and the sound of boxes falling took my attention immediately.
What the hell was she wearing? Spandex? Oh perfect. One of those superheroes. This crime scene was going to get messy, wasn't it? A sigh escaped me, struggling to keep it from becoming a groan or a growl. My eyes widened as Yume created a knife to release the bound and gagged woman. I followed after before holding both hands up, forming a T-shape with them.
"Hold on. We don't know who she even is. Two minutes here. Give me two minutes."
I moved to rip or move the ribbon away from her mouth. People tended to talk faster and more honestly when scared. And being bound and gagged like this with how many people surrounding you?
As scary as it gets.
"Name and what happened. Start talking. Why are you tied up?"
I kept my knees bent, crouching down as I waited. The others may be kinder than I am, but kindness does not exactly carry an investigation forward.
Trixie gives a smile to Yume. Then she focuses her attention on the commotion coming from the tree. She spots a woman covered in wrapping paper. "Well this just keeps getting more interesting by the second," she thought.
Trixie let out a small snicker in response to Diva's comment about the lady. Trixie watched in amazement as Yume materialized a knife. She follows Logan to woman. "Man he is very direct," she thought as somewhat admirered his straightforward approach. They needed to know what was going on and this was the biggest lead. Trixie stood behind Logan and readied herself in case backup was needed.
What was going on? Who was this woman? She hoped the woman's answers would help them move forward.
When bringing the broken pair of glasses up to his eyes Logan didn’t see anything unusual, until he turned to the woman in spandex. Through the lenses there was a strange aura - or perhaps it could be better described as fog - on the left side of her chest, where her heart probably was, assuming she had one. On the other hand the same aura, but this time red like Christmas appeared inside Yume's chest as soon as he turned to her. What could it mean?
MARIAH
5 times Grammy Award winner, Billboard’s artist of the decade in the 90’s and vocalist of the top 1 song every December, Mariah Carey had never been in a worse situation since her ex rapper boyfriend became obsessed with her.
A weird group of people surrounded her, and the only familiar face (or box) she recognized was Scrimblo, the sweet boxing elf. Her eyes widened when the girl with bright white hair pointed a knife at her, but relaxed when she noticed she had good intentions. Besides the girl, there was a superhero and two ordinary looking people. Not the kind of people one would find in the North Pole, that time of the year specifically.
The rude man pulled the ribbon out of Mariah’s mouth and followed up by asking her a bunch of questions. Who did he think he was, and how could he not know who she was?
“Could you at least untie me first?” She asked, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to the girl with the knife. “I’ll talk, just untie me, please!”
[attr="style","border: 2px yellow solid;padding:10px;"] "Oh, cute dress," Diva remarked as her ice-powered sidekick came up to aid in freeing the regretfully attired woman. A little long for Diva's tastes, sure, but she could appreciate the thought that had gone into it. "Some of the rest of you could use some work, though." Her gaze lingered on the back of the detective's head as he pushed his way forward to ask a whole lot of boring questions that didn't have anything to do with anything important. "Maybe some hair gel? Not you, though, you're good," she said, with a nod to the cheerfully wrapped box...person. "I like the bow. Very festive!"
Meanwhile, the identity of the wrapped woman was dramatically revealed... or should have been, except apparently none of these people knew anything important. Well, that was all right, that was why Diva was the main character. She knew a line prompt when she saw one. "Why, it's Mariah Carey!"
There, dramatic reveal accomplished. Diva bounced with cheerful excitement. "Oooh, I just love it when I get a soundtrack. Someone find her a microphone, will you? There should be one lying around somewhere." Of course there would be, why wouldn't there?
“Excuse me?”[/i] Yume said coldly as the detective shouldered his way past to question the tied up woman, asking that she hold off freeing her from the festive bindings. Perhaps the other detective was correct in that rather unsavory name she had called him? At the very least rude seemed more than correct. The superhero seemed unphased by this collection of strange happenings as she seemed to be sizing up everyone’s fashion choices.
“Oh, thank you.” Yume said, the surprise at the compliment defrosting her tone as she knelt down at the woman’s side. She wasn’t just any woman either, why she was the queen of the modern mall Christmas music selections, Mariah Carey! Still, as odd as it was to find her here tied up in Santa’s workshop it was no small relief to see that she seemed to be unharmed despite the state the workshop was in. “I find it doubtful that we will have time for anything like a concert.” Yume said, looking up at the woman in spandex before returning her attention to the singer.
“Of course, my apologies for our detective friend, he simply wishes to get to the bottom of this case, quickly.” Yume said, lifting the knife. “Please hold still.” In a single smooth motion the heiress slid the ice blade down along the wrapping paper binding the poor singer. Once finished she looked back up to the hero, a faint frown on her lips.
“Were you in the stables? Was Rudolph also missing?” She asked.
//... into the dark she stepped, but never did she feel free of the gaze...//
Mariah opened a soft smile after the superhero annouced her name. If she hadn't been tied up she would have greeted her fans properly- what was she thinking? That was not the time for a meet and greet!
"Have you seen Kris? Where is he?!" The singer with the voice of an angel asked, standing up and looking around as soon as the white haired girl released her, searching for a man dressed in red, with a beard white as snow.
The tall people were fighting. They tended to do that, as Scrimblo had come to learn. The little box elf watched mostly, but did not understand much. This was okay with them, Scrimblo could not expect to understand people who did not understand boxes.
Not like Mariah Carey.
Scrimblo began shaking and rattling when he saw her wrapped up, surrounded by boxes. She had always been kind to the boxfolk as someone who truly understood the meaning of Christmas - every boxelf knew that the 'you' in All I Want For Christmas was her boxes, plural.
"Baby?" Scrimblo tried out the new word. Of course he knew the word Santa - the name that the Boss Man let tall people who didn't work for him call him. But baby? Maybe that was why he hadn't answered before, Scrimblo was simply calling the wrong name.