December 24, 2017:

The Curator supposedly transforms the fate of the gathered 'heroes' and ends up attracting the attention of the Yule Devil.q


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

A day later (set before Christmas eve following the first meeting)…

The snow remains in it's heavy layered blanket upon New York City. The Curator has called the four (supposedly he's put out the call to others). It is not the curio shop this time playing host to the gathering but the outdoors, just after the sun has settled. The night skies of New York City look ominous, dark cast on the white but the winds today are still. Some small blessing.
No letters, bells, whistles or magical 'whispers' to draw them together this time just technology simple text from the Curator.

*BLIP* Curator: Christopher Street Pier. Waterfront Greenwich Village. 7PM. Dress warm!
"The strange Asian has added them and his 'profile' looks like a cartoon 'chibi' version of himself.


"Listen, I'm not here because you've pissed off Uncle Frankie, even though it'll help him out in the long run.." Jackie tells the tied and beaten Russian Mafia Enforcer in the basement of the small abandoned building near NYU. "I'm here, because the four strippers you put in the hospital I know, all good girls, all trying to make their way in this world without scum like you." The room is dank, save a single light bulb swinging back and forth that casts eerie shadows throughout the small space.

"So…" Jackie continues, moving to put his jacket back on, the blood pulled from his hands by the Darkness, "I appreciate all you've told me about your Bosses business ventures, and I'll pass it along…" his phone vibrates, and he sighs, "Give me a sec." He steps away, checking the message, frowning in consternation, and then putting the phone back in his pocket. "Well, lucky day for you, I don't have time to keep playing."

"Wait, wait…" blood flowing down from the busted lip, and broken nose, "You can't leave me here." gasp, and spitting a glob of blood, "I won't tell anyone. I promise." Jackie turns back, hand on the light bulb, "You're right. I can't leave you here." and as he turns the bulb so the light goes out dozens of green eyes pop into existence, his voice oddly deep and devoid of emotion ~And you won't be telling anyone.~

The screams are muffled as he shuts the door to the cellar stairs, and he makes his way to his car, "Hmm, not too far, should be there early. Let's see what he's got, eh fellas…" and several pairs of glowing eyes follows Jackie from the alley and rooftops.


At least the Curator took her request and used her phone number this time, rather than a cryptic bit of magic. And at least this was in Greenwich Village, or on the edge of it anyway… which is where Lara's Manhattan home was located not far from Washington Square Park.

Lara's silver and white jeep pulled away from the rear of her house, it rolled down the streets which the city was trying hard to keep clear of snow… at least traffic was thinner than usual.

The tomb raider was wearing a black sweater and black jeans with black boots, but overtop of it she had on a dark green canvas jacket with a grey hood sewn into the back of the collar. She took a sip from her thermos of hot fresh coffee and drove along to meet up where indicated.

She'd be there pretty quickly, due to the closeness of her home to the destination.


Sara is not a fan of Christmas, not this year, for good reason in her own mind.

Even as Jingle Bells seek to gain attentiveness for 'Salvation's Army', there are flickers of memories of what is -Now- Heaven Sent to her via Angel(u)s. The clench of hands in her pockets feel the vibration of her text, having dropped a well groomed Princess off at her apartment, both hands are fully free now and the change is clutched while Sara Scrooges past the bucket.

Pausing she reads the text and narrows her eyes fingers flicking the change towards the Salvation Bucket. "All I got…" Muttered as the phone is shoved back into her pocket and her path changes on a twist of heel and an alley-cut taken to the Uber she had requested just after reading. "Christopher Street Pier." The end of the request emphasized by the slam of the car door.

The driver's eyes are evident in the rear-view mirror, glances back frequent enough to make Sara's look out the window dour, sour… A glare at passing city. Once they stop several bills are tossed over the seat to his lap. "Feed your kids, not your habit. Giving Tree will provide them gifts."

Rocking forwards to leave the car one booted foot plants onto the concrete, lightly coated, a flick of finger over his provided dangling ID just over his shoulder. "I will trace everything down to the Teddy Ruxpin."

*Flick!* His ID spins on the rope as the door slams again and she tugs the lapels of leather coat up to at least keep the chill from her neck. "I need to go south…"


Christmas lights around the pier are sparse, its not a populated location and most tend to avoid the waterside during this sort of weather. Robert is there already as the others begin to arrive, no real indication on how he drove he is just waiting the others. A hooded flannel jacket, jeans, books. He doesn't stand out unless you know who or what he is. There is a snowbank pushed up to the side, flanking a cleared off set of benches that are lit up. The only place to sit and probably not wise. One can imagine they will find themselves stuck to said benches.

The Curator is likewise present, hands formed around a mug that is steaming that he sips from. Plastic and there is a stack of them next to a thermos.

"You see, they all show. Well four of my five." The man says pleased with himself.

Ripclaw looks over from underneath that hood, "Little choice considering how much you know about each of us. Everyone will show for one reason or another."


Jackie had parked his borrowed SUV about a block away, not really bothered by the cold or snow, and walked the rest of the way to the meeting place. His hands are tucked into a long overcoat that looks like it could ward off the winter chill. His booted feet tread through the snow with relative ease, and he picks up sight of Robert and the Curator.

He barely makes out the beginning of the conversation as he closes with the two men, his eyes scanning the area as one that is already for an ambush, or trying to avoid getting shot in the back. "Mr Mowai…" Jackie greet the Curator first, a simple nod given to Robert as he doesn't recall if they were properly introduced, "Heyas."

"He looks around for more of the crew from the Shop, as he asks "I'm guessing others got a similar invite. Probably right behind me somewhere, and we'll wait for everyone to get here before we start?" A little sight, being out of the loop sucks, "I'm hoping it's worth the time and the cold."


Lara's footfalls brought her toward where the others were. She had her hood up and her hands in her jacket pockets, a wool cap on her head beneath her hood, strands of dark hair flowing about the sides of her face as she peered out across the pier at the people present and populating the place.

Lara came to a halt, her form bundled up inside of her heavy winter clothing and her arms held tightly at her sides. She exhaled a steamy spout of a breath and looked from one person to the next.

She said nothing, she was waiting for them to speak and explain to her why she was here.


"You're not the only one…" Sara states in regard to this being Worth It, in regards to Jackie's own phrasing.

Eyes flick over each and every gathered while each step comes to a slow/frozen stand, hands thrust deep into her pockets, the toe of landed Tanker Boot *snapping* a long forgotten twig beneath the cleated sole, her stance one that keeps distance from the rest.

No hood to shied her face, nor shadow the look of curiosity or wariness, although Lara is granted a soft nod as she steps beside her and fingers grip her collar to loft it higher and cover herself with the 'hide' that loosed Auburn does not protect.

"I can't feel my face…" Muffled beneath a zipper and collar as she seeks to Turtle-bury her face into her coat and shield from the blustering wind, closing her eyes stripped of moisture in the tear of chilled wind that could summon tears from the /tear/less.

"Coffee after, more… ?" Beat..

Five? The Curator is leered upon, Jackie not getting that 'Stab' she meant to send his way in silence instead!


.. not sorry..


"Welcome one, welcome all. So pleased to see all of you." The Curator says far too chipper. He shivers under his large jacket, obviously not free of the cold like the other males here appear to be. "Hot tea? It will warm your bones."

"You called us out next to the Hudson. If the wind picks up no hot anything is going to warm anyone's bones." Robert chides. A look to Jackie accompanied with a no given, names were exchanged last time or blurted out by their 'handler' here.

"To it we begin then, as our surly friend is likely to injure me soon." Hard to tell if the Curator jests or not, "As portents go they are vague things, your involvements have been uncertain, a lack of solidity from two of you, indirectly linked but now the lines are a bit more solid. Fates wrapped in despite this being far too early in the game, pregame even…. yes I am aware we are by the Hudson but it had to be here. I am rambling one moment. Yes, you're standing there, you there, Miss Croft there, you there… man, woman, man, woman, four… socius alliges duplicia fatum!" He says suddenly, loudly at the end of his spill out of rapidfire dialogue and rambling. A brilliant glow of white-blue light erupts from his eyes and then upon the ground below them, briefly runic emblems of some variant can be witnessed, the light ripples high, one two three for then vanishes back down in a snuff.

Defensively the Curator's hands fly up and he leaps back, as if one of them will strike him. A piece of paper burns in the air where he stood, vanishing in a puff and scent. No one appears hurt but the sudden action is well, random… very.


Jackie gives a small nod in greeting to Lara as she moves up to the group in silence. For Sara, there's the smallest of smirks, but he tilts his head down so his hair potentially covers it. Some things /might/ be colder out here than the temperature, but he doesn't bait the bear if he can help it… for now.

Still, Jackie seems to lose some of his humor for a few brief moments, brow furrowing in concentration, and the slightest light flickering in his pale blue eyes. It's only for a moment, potentially a trick of the eye in the weather, but maybe his own shadow flickers.

He's about to say something more when the Curator begins speaking. At first, Jackie's look is almost bored, puzzling through everything that's being said, but quickly changes to a 'WTF' when the Latin Rap Battle starts. Then an explosion, turning his head away from the light, and immediately moves to darken the area in reflex. His head swivels back to the Curator, "What the hell was that?!"


Lara's eyes go over to look at Sara when the woman sidles up near to her. She showed her a soft smile and a little nod, and when she mentions her chilled state… the silvery thermos of hot coffee is offered to the Detective. She and Sara had had a conversation after meeting the previous night and they'd gotten to know a bit about one another, so they were on friendly terms now.

Lara would look to Jackie and offer him a similar nod in greeting, but when the Curator would start to talk she'd regard him… Lara wasn't exactly keen on having her time wasted by a crazy person, and she certainly was starting to feel as though all of this was essentially that—pandering to a mad man.

But when the magic display was shown, she shielded her eyes with her free hand and then peered through her gloved fingers.

"What purpose does this even serve?" She'd speak shortly after Jackie's words.


From Jackie to Curator, she manages to ignore the shadows… but the sudden omission of light in splay beneath her feet has booted heels dragging back in the drifted snowfall, a hand rising up to shield her eyes, or something else as bared hand is no longer a simple splay of fingers and exposure of 'delicate' boned wrist, tendrils lace over and around in a defense imperative that seks to splay outward in a burst tou land tendrils before each of the 'Four of the Five', Alien Sentience Embodied, hooking towards the Curator as if to "grip"…

like a whip o' tails it curls back and folds into the bracelet after twining about splayed fingers in an embrace of descent.

Sara looks towards Ripclaw… Who stood her and Lara up for said Slice of Pie as well as Jackie that night - nevermind after…

"We did not get to /that/ part," Sara murmurs to Lara and readjusts her attire while the ruby colored gem flashes in situational…. warmth, regained.

The Curator is now stared at in a manner that has another step towards him *cracking* another twig beneath booted step. "But I don't like it.."

Sara's words are low, but the pale sclera darken and the tendrils that recoiled form a new coating along her hand, upward and OUT!, a single sweep of hand towards the Curator, those lashes extended once more to splay in his direction for a *stinging* blow!

And neither does her Counterpart.


Ripclaw's shoulders hunch as if hes about to himself to tackle the Curator. Slender talons revealed from inside his sleeve. Sharp, reflective bio-steel underneath flannel fabric. It stops mid-swipe, doesn't lay in and the cyborg-mutant is looking down, observing the ground where imprinted in the snow is melted burns, "An arcane contract… We stand on a cluster of dragon veins."
"This is why we had to be /here/… you wanted to enchant us."

Accusation in there. Ripclaw is annoyed. He is 'sensing' to see just exacting what has been done to them.

Hands still up defensively the Curator lets out one of those 'laughs', a laugh that cuts short when the Witchblade 'slaps' him with lashes enough he hits the ground in a tattered trail of clothing and spilled tea, "Oh, my… please do not kill me!" He pleads.

"I promise all of you it was not great dark magics or harmful." He rubs his hand over his face, a slash mark is there of blood, "So fast, amazing, but no, no, see, the tables we work upon, they're pressed, you four are unaligned, there is no recognition beyond those of you who host an artifact we are out of synchronicity. I simply encouraged and told it otherwise with that little 'enscrollment'" An intentional pun, "I am encouraging fate that you four belong, you're meant to be on this path. It's helpful is all, its just a contract. A contract to our task."

"You manipulated us yet again." Ripclaw growls, "Not a good way to begin this.

"This is protective! You need to be recognized by the powers that be in this regard or else you would be cast aside or worse."


"Jesus Christ…" The Hitman rumbles on, eyes narrowing, and his mood gone entirely sour after the flash of Bright Light. Letting his eyes adjust back from the flash, "What the hell were those symbols anyways?" Jackie growls since his irritation level has risen significantly.

He glances over at Sara as her Partner's presence makes itself known, the Darkness in Jackie roils again, and there's a coiling up from the shadows around them. He fights it down, nothing more than a shimmering, and the tendrils sink back down.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sighs Jackie, "Fate, Protections, Powers and being Unaligned." He looks to Robert, "Can you translate into English what the hell this guy is saying?"


Lara's shielding hand went down again to her side and she stood and listened to the others, the Curator's words made her eyes narrow. "Generally it is most wise not to cast magic upon others without explaining it first, and acquiring their permission to-do so… secondly." The British explorer said in a gravely disturbed sounding voice.

Her brown eyes watched Sara, Ripclaw and Jackie all reacting as well… she noted Sara's abilities there… impressive.

"Who are these 'powers that be'?" Lara would then ask of the Curator. She worked for SHIELD after all, in the Wizardry Alchemy and Necromancy Division, though none of those 3 things were exactly her specialty, she was certainly coming a lot closer to dabbling in each of them with every weird and strange case she took on in their individual (and often merging) fields.


"I am no Sorcerer Supreme but those were very potent seals. He just tried to force our fate in to this nonsense he has been speaking, a weasel's move. It was not harmful in a sense but it was also not his call to make, a very large gamble." Ripclaw growls at the Curator. "The powers that be?" A look at Lara, "That is a broad question you and I would have to talk at some length about if you wanted to really understand… or it can be summed up in simple terms that won't do it justice."

"Yes, you see but necessary for the greater good. It will come to you over the nights now and you'll understand why. You will help me and I promise you, those things which we spoke of last night I will make sure are yours. Here… " The Curator actually produces a wrapped object towards Sara, "And you… Miss Croft, the leather bag by my thermos. That is yours."
"Jackie and Robert, you two should also speak… the Darkness, you know it. You do." Thats his gift it would appear, their 'meeting' he is struggling up to his feet, climbing out of the snow.

There is a crash in the white wash behind them about a dozen feet away from their group. Something thing in the shadows looms, bends and then huffs at the air. Saliva flecks forth, sprays over the snow and there is a long slow inhale, a rattle of chains drags. A gravel voice rumbles forth, "Ho ho ho, naughty children… " A rasp and then theres a step forward, a cloven hoof is visible. "It is not the night to be playing with magicks that draw the eyes of the beyond." Gleaming red eyes and sharp white teeth hover.


Looking to Robert, nodding once more seeing that the two of them have much to speak of, and Jackie agrees that the Curator should /not/ have tried to force.. whatever… he is forcing to happen. "You know what, I think I'll take this conversation with Robert, and you can go fu…" and then there is the ominous sound behind them.

Jackie turns and spies something out of nightmares, but instead of fearing what's before them his eyes glow a bright green. "No, we're having a private chat, and you can move along…" Jackie's form is quickly covered in tendrils of Darkness, his face shielded by a shiny metallic mask, and his hands turning into wicked looking claws, and when he speaks his voice takes on a deeper tone ~Or you can be moved along.~


The lashed WW(Magickal)E, Slap Down, is followed up upon, her hand lifting to call it back while her eyes bleed back to normalcy save the golden light that rim iris', green the veins through abyssal shades of Amber. It did not stop the formulation of coating over fingers as they fold inward to a fist and lower towards her pocket while she steps back and allows the Curator to stand.

No apology is spoken, her eyes darting to each. Ripclaw in his own stance, Jackie and those rescinding Shadows, Lara and that *Spark*, each acknowledged with a low—- "You know… Lara Powers That Be, he is but a vessel for.."

Every One of Them is a Vessel of some sort, and the shadow cast beyond that melts snow in cloven hoofed prints draws her gaze that is straddled by a strapping of clawed tendrils in a coating unseen beneath the light layers she wore to this meeting.

"Lara…" Breath a plume of fog before her lips as the Darkness is already surfacing to accent the gold to a Silver Bistre of armor. "Now you will know why I passed up the Cake. I hate this week." Light a candle to that!

A glance between Ripclaw and Jackie.



Lara's eyes went to the bag that the Curator indicated, she started toward it while she looked to Ripclaw as he brushed off her desire to know whot these supposed mysterious people potentially behind all of this word.

She placed her hand on the leather bag that their Collector mentioned and picked it up, right around the time as this new potential foe arrived… Lara sighed and shook her head. "This isn't going to end well." She muttered, her hand going into her green coat to pull out a gun and clutch it near her side as she looked over to Sara.

"I'm not sure if I'm learning more, or becoming more confused." She said back to the detective.


"A demon… " The Curator remarks. Less scared than annoyed sounding. "Ignore it and I will banish it. It is not one our foretold threats simply an interloper out of his depth."

"That hurts little dabbler, I am the Beast of the Season, I am unleashed and you five are all very naughty children."

The wrapped bundle taken from the Curator he pays it no mind as Sara has it now and Lara likewise take the leather bag, "Just give me a moment, distract it somehow… "

"Still it talks down to me. What are you? And you?" A clawtip jabs at Jackie and then Sara. "Such a strange thing I have never seen in doubles. Maybe I was kept away too long."

"You're Krampus… or some variation of him." Ripclaw says with confusion, "You know then that I am currently in service to the old Gods and your ways, let us carry on with our business and I will continue to honor my pact."

Krampus hand waves what Robert is saying aside, "I care not about pacts and service to the others. It is my time and I do as I wish. Stupid spell broght me here because you now all look like ridiculous lanterns just flaring so bright, what I want is to know what you and you are… " Once more dark long claws poke at Witchblade and Darkness. "Rest of you… stink of strange metals, the British and decaying immortality."


From the surrounding alleys, under vehicles, and on top of rooftops of the buildings show small dark gremlin like creatures. Their eyes are glowing a similar color to Jackie's, but a few seem to have their own attire. There's even one in a full suit bunny PJs, "Ooohhh, I want feet like that?!?" it's raspy voice calls out.

When the Krampus, or some facsimile of it, points at Jackie and Sara, he responds back ~Great Question. Looking for those Answers myself. Something along the lines of the Primordial Darkness around before the Creation of Light.~ More of the Darklings seem to crawl out of the groups shadows, surrounding Jackie and facing this potential threat.

~Like my friend here said. Leave us alone, and things are easy. I'm not in the mood for difficult tonight.~

Without moving his glowing eyes from the Krampus, Jackie asks Robert, ~What do we need to know about this guy? First time I've seen anything like this. Seen angels, holy psycho nuns, and crazy Brotherhood… but nothing like this.~


Lara was a bit different from the others, she saw demon and she was told to distract it… it seemed threatening and she had a life she didn't want to have threatened, let alone risked.

The mysterious leather bag was clutched against her body while her other hand shot up and she aimed-down-sights at the monster referring to himself as Krampus.

"Burn in hell." Lara muttered to the creature and she started to unload her gun right at his face. Was she in a bad mood? Maybe… did she have a grudge? How could she? Didn't get the gift she wanted for Christmas at some point in her life perhaps?

Several shots were unleashed from her sidearm though, loud pops and expertly aimed shots!


/He'll go out of Season in 3 days. On Clearance even…
Right next to Elf on a Sh-/

"…" The unladen hand of the Witchblade is bare, still human as it delves into the folds of leather coat towards the holster beneath that has her .357 encased in a more solid layer of bracing. Her hand never reaches the cold hard steel of weapon nestled along her rib-cage, Sara knows better just as much as the Entity she carries does.

The Offering from the Curator was at first denied gathering, but on second thought…

.. everyone else /accepted/, and so when Sara's gaze directed to the package a tendril lashes out and in a whiplash it is speared and taken from the mans grip to recoil inward and step back in the sheer velocity of Greed and Need, unmatched by curiosity.

"All on a need to know basis, and your time is…" A flick of gaze to lofted wrist, exposed in armor that is slowly ascending her arm and shredding leather jacket-sleeve.


Gaze straddled by hooked spires flickers and just as Lara looses her rapid-fire succession and Jackie is flickering reflections of light off the snow into Darkness, Sara is making her approach, glancing to Ripclaw in affirmation, positioning herself (reluctantly) between Krampus and the Curator. -Questions, Afterall!-


"A devil or God once worshipped or at the very least acknowledged during the Yule times. The 'Claw of Hel', we are not his usual choice of entertainment but then to assume one knows the workings of demons… " Robert responds to Jackie, his claws having elongated out.
"Fight me? I would slay thee. Midgard knows not my powers these days of cold. I would massac… " Gunshot. A thump in to the Krampus chest and stomach. A hit, another hit. A head snap to the side. It's hand rises up to ward them off and it snarls low, "Naughty and testing you have earned my ire. Stop with these bee stings." The appearance of the Darklings is noticed while deflecting shot after shot, a stare from one to the next, "I see, I see." It says quietly, a rattle somewhere behind it, "I wish to play and make all here suffer, questions I have and you do not give answer. I could perhaps, may even make all of you walk uneven but tonight this thing you form… "
The Krampus straightens up to it's full height, well over seven feet. He is wearing a grin. "Its inspiring scorn and that will be your undoing. This future you're wishing to fix." It looks at the Curator, "I care not get in it's mix, not with you here nor with any of you elsewhere."

Ripclaw isn't talking, hes hoping the thing is losing interest in them. A challenge it doesnt understand nor want a part of. A thing with a portfolio and it's own desires… maybe they fall outside of them.


~Great.~ Comes Jackie's sardonic response, even with a single word, can be felt as he commands the Darklings to begin to surround the Krampus, giving it a wide berth, but well within their leaping distance.

A Darkling in a Cowl calls from a rooftop, "I believe we will need to subdue it with mistletoe and Christmas carols, Boss."
Another wearing a Yankee's cap, bearing two comically large pistols crafted of Darkness snorts, "No way, Boss, shoot it in the goat ass."

~Lets take a raincheck. Come find me later. We can dance then.~ Jackie responds back, he's already sent an artifact wielder to their demise, what would be the Scary version of Saint Nick, in his mind. He takes a couple steps forward, not away from the group, but enough so that he can attempt to buy the Curator some itme if Krampus decides to rumble.

~Seems like deja vu…~ Jackie rumbles to Sara, not quite the same enemy, but the feel of the situation is similar to him. ~I'll try to keep my guts on the inside this time.~


Lara ejected the magazine on her gun and she replaced it with a fresh one from her jacket pocket. If her bullets truely had no effect on the monster then what good could she be? She wasn't prepared for a fight like this, she'd been given nothing of value to research the beast and find a weakness…

Lara's eyes looked to the Darklings surrounding it, she didn't know what those things were either but her hopes were in their ability to handle all of this.

So the archaeologist fell back and put her eyes down onto the leather bag she'd been given? She started to unravel it and moved to open it to look inside.

Lara may think the 'bee stings' meant nothing, but they gave Krampus a 'Second Sight (Thought)', in his approach towards them.

Ripclaw's bladed grasp is of vengeance, The Darklings draw Sara to roll her eyes from them to…

Lara is glanced and the Curator is left open on her behest, no longer a shield for the man that brough tthis besat before them as Sara draws closer towards Krampus while the Witchblade replaces leather limb with an armor that coats her skin in totality. ~Keep them inside,~ Relayed to Jackie before she pauses with those words from Krampus. "Midgard?" A step back then, and her hands extend, but fingers point to those Krampus has faced this night.

"Everything has changed.." The Witchblade laden hand curls in the dance of Darkness(lings!) as well as along the profile of Ripclaw's silhouette, the bared exposer of palm over Lara's curious prodding into her bag a reminder.

"I do not know you, but I will," A flare of nostrils, an exhale of mist beneath like a bull awaiting charge, even Sara's tone has deepened. "We. Will."

Well, don't let the Detective call the shots!!


"I have it. Lets not waste our time any further." The Curator declares. It appears the man has been surfing through his cellphone for a spell? His face lit up by the LED he looks locked in focus.

"A duel for another time, strange creature of Darkness with your delightful spawnlings." The Krampus is almost cooing at one of the Darklings. Then a response to Sara "Everything has changed and will change more. I have children to bring fright before Christmas night. All of you… no longer an interesting… " A wave of clawed fingertips, a large toothy and jagged smile. "You get the rest… " One by one they all get a look including Lara, Robert and the Curator. "Bored, boring, I am off to make myself busy. Secure your children and pray I forget you all."
A snarl, a rumbling sound like great thunder muffled in fur and beast descends with a bunched up slay behind it, a direwolf the size of a bull lands and the Christmas Devil climbs aboard, actually gives them the finger and ascends in to the heavens, vanishing in darknes and snow.

The Curator looks up, swallowing deeply, "I apologize and you must understand time is short. I needed to if we are to save ourselves and the world."

"You're garbage." Ripclaw says with a snarl. Lara Croft will find notes, compiled of all things the man spoke of. Undocumented and even one that may very well be in her fathers handwriting, they lead to stories from allover but she'll not have the ability to read through the leather binder too much right now. "I am going to go get some waffles and a coffee, I've already accepted our mission but if you trick us again… it will not be the Detective's blades at your throat will be mine."

Crunching snow and Ripclaw is walking off, "Anyone who likes a good Belgian is free to join me… Except you, weasel. You stay away. We have this from here on… " Fucking summoned Krampus?? Seriously…


Lara watched the danger susbside and she watched her 'companions' begin to disperse. She held that bag open in front of her and then looked down at it again… notes, lots of notes, information? Finally, something that called to her out of all of this.

Without another word or any other kind of visual goodbye, the young British explorer turned on her snow-covered booted feet and she started back the way she'd come original, the bag in front of her and her sidearm going back into her jacket.

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