Fri Jul 10, 2015 8:25 pm by Merisa
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when up to some tricks,
the Puppeteer was stealing ideas of Saint Nick’s.
There was fame to be had if only he dared,
taking a few risks while nobody stared.
The citizens were locked up in their homes
with many tucked into bed with their spouses.
Oh, how he knew, clothing was in their dreams,
and the Puppeteer was a man to stitch the seams.
There were dresses and blouses, jackets and ties,
beyond the luck of even the best-est of buys,
and he would be the man most generous,
even if his behaviors were curious.
And so, decked in an ensemble of red velvet cut and sewn into a suit, the cuffs, hem and collar fluffed with downy white fur, the demon set out on his self-appointed task, and bestowed presents on one and all in the sleepy hamlet of Naiser Vale. His black leather shoes, polished to a gleam, crossed over cobblestones in Old District and asphalt in New District alike, missing nary a house in his passing. A warm scarf for the man of the house and a pair of fine, fancy stockings for his wife, while his daughter received a pair of new mittens to keep her tiny hands warm in the chill winter months. A dress, bold with its plunging neckline, for the young lass who’d yet to attract the attention of a suitor, and a nice, negligee for the young miss who had. A handsome tie for the man meeting his lover’s parents for the first time and a pair of new boots for her to make the morning trek. One by one, the Puppeteer granted each person a gift, their secrets known to him through the gossip of his shop’s clientele.
At long last, his journey brought him to the edge of Naiser Vale and he left its borders behind. With his top hat atop his head, set at its normal slant though its velvet was red and its ribbon a black belt with silver buckle, he traipsed down the trail to a place where he was less than unusual: Caislin Hallows. He passed inside as silent as a Christmas specter, threads licking across his flesh like dark flames, and continued his merriment. To all the students and all the faculty, he imparted the gifts of cloth they favored most as they slept. After passing the last dormitory door, he laid his finger aside his nose and with a nod, vanished from the school.
(Everyone feel free to post what your would have received! Preferably in-character.)
the Puppeteer was stealing ideas of Saint Nick’s.
There was fame to be had if only he dared,
taking a few risks while nobody stared.
The citizens were locked up in their homes
with many tucked into bed with their spouses.
Oh, how he knew, clothing was in their dreams,
and the Puppeteer was a man to stitch the seams.
There were dresses and blouses, jackets and ties,
beyond the luck of even the best-est of buys,
and he would be the man most generous,
even if his behaviors were curious.
And so, decked in an ensemble of red velvet cut and sewn into a suit, the cuffs, hem and collar fluffed with downy white fur, the demon set out on his self-appointed task, and bestowed presents on one and all in the sleepy hamlet of Naiser Vale. His black leather shoes, polished to a gleam, crossed over cobblestones in Old District and asphalt in New District alike, missing nary a house in his passing. A warm scarf for the man of the house and a pair of fine, fancy stockings for his wife, while his daughter received a pair of new mittens to keep her tiny hands warm in the chill winter months. A dress, bold with its plunging neckline, for the young lass who’d yet to attract the attention of a suitor, and a nice, negligee for the young miss who had. A handsome tie for the man meeting his lover’s parents for the first time and a pair of new boots for her to make the morning trek. One by one, the Puppeteer granted each person a gift, their secrets known to him through the gossip of his shop’s clientele.
At long last, his journey brought him to the edge of Naiser Vale and he left its borders behind. With his top hat atop his head, set at its normal slant though its velvet was red and its ribbon a black belt with silver buckle, he traipsed down the trail to a place where he was less than unusual: Caislin Hallows. He passed inside as silent as a Christmas specter, threads licking across his flesh like dark flames, and continued his merriment. To all the students and all the faculty, he imparted the gifts of cloth they favored most as they slept. After passing the last dormitory door, he laid his finger aside his nose and with a nod, vanished from the school.
(Everyone feel free to post what your would have received! Preferably in-character.)
