Christmas Log | The Gift Exchange

[folkscallmewander]

Who: Everyone who signed up for the Secret Santa!
What: Party where everyone can exchange gifts.
When: M11 D4
Where: A conference room at the hotel
Notes & Warnings: Feel free to tag around!

There's a sign at the lobby stating that the winter holiday party for the imports is in one of the back rooms.

Wander convinced the rest of the staff to let him take some leftover bagels and other snack foods from the guest breakfast, and there's a small table in the middle of the room with the food.

Comments

[athousandcurses]

"Kay?" Grainne repeated to herself, giving the room a glance before shrugging. "I haven't seen him yet. He is a little hard to miss though, he's the chief security officer for the resort. Rather nice man, if you ask me."

[what_ho_jeeves]

"Is he? Nice, that is. I've seen him about but we've never been properly introduced. He looks a rather dour sort of chap, with a face like it was carved from granite, like it walked off the set from that mountain they're carving up over in North Dakota. Or was it South Dakota? I never can tell the difference. I can't imagine why one would need two Dakota's anyway, it's not as if there's very much in either of them."

He shuffled nervously.

"I do hope he approves of the presents I chose for him."

[athousandcurses]

Grainne blinked owlishly at Bertie, completely lost on what he was talking about with mountain carving.

"He has a lot of burdens, I would guess. He's always seemed a little bit lonely." Something Grainne would understand. Doing what one had to and being lonely as a result. "Have you gotten anything yet, Bertie?"

[what_ho_jeeves]

Bertie looked downcast at the thought. A social man himself, loneliness seemed a most terrible fate.

"Poor fellow. And not even a valet to keep him company during the long and silent hours. If I should throw a party, I shall make a special point of inviting him."

He nodded, decision made. But at Grainne's question he slumps a little and becomes morose again.

"I have not." He forced a smile, as he spoke it quickly became genuine as he talked himself into good cheer. "But 'chip chip' I say. No use being glum when 'tis the season to be jolly. Perhaps they're just late. Or forgot. Many of my friends forget things like Christmas, birthdays...including their own birthdays. Whatever it is, I'm sure that no ill will is meant by it."

[athousandcurses]

Grainne laughed softly. She knew who Bertie's secret "santa" was, but didn't want to give it away just yet. "I am sure it will be worth the wait, Bertie. I do not quite understand the whole significance of receiving the presents, but you know that saying about waiting and good things. But... you're right about Kay." She brightened up a lot, giving him a small smile. "You should try to make friends with him. I am sure he would like that."

[what_ho_jeeves]

He beamed at the reassurance. No need to stiff upper lip his way through it any more.

"In that case, I shall be patient as Job. If Job were receiving presents and not ill luck, that is."

And nodded at her encouragement.

"Chief K seems a good enough chap. Much better than some of the officers I've known. Why, he hasn't tried to arrest me even once yet! Perhaps I can tell him a joke, attempt to add some levity to his life."

[athousandcurses]

Having no idea who this Job person was or why he had so much patience, Grainne focused on what she could comment on.

"What a wonderful idea." She stifled a giggle at the idea of letting Bertie loose on poor, unsuspecting Kay. Well, it was a good idea. Bertie was the right kind of type to befriend dour old men like him. Persistence got everywhere. "You know, he reminds me of my third husband. Cranky and sullen on the outside, even more so on the inside, but he loved a good joke and he showed his feelings in other ways. I've only ever seen Kay work, I wonder if he has any time off?"

[what_ho_jeeves]

"It's an odd thing, work. I've know a few people who have worked, but none so many as here. It would be a tragedy if it did not include some time off from work. Work has always struck me as hard work. That's a large part of why I've avoided it.

"But when next I see Chief Kay, I shall engage him in conversation and delight him with my sparkling wit and clever repartee."

Poor Kay

[athousandcurses]

Grainne smiled, full of mischief and an imp's natural inclination to prank. "That sounds like a very grand idea, Bertie. Make sure he gets some time off. Maybe you could invite him to a game, or a party? Oh, take him out on an expedition."

At least Kay has had lots of practice at stoically accepting crazy babbling

[what_ho_jeeves]

Bertie is full of earnestness and thought.

"An expedition would be grand. Like unto our own little local safari, but instead of camping rough out in the Serengeti, we are able to afterwards rest easy in our own beds. Or perhaps he likes darts? I throw an excellent game of darts. Tied for Drones Club champion for five years in a row. Or golf, but he looks more a darts and cards fellow than a golfer."

[athousandcurses]

"I would say try a little bit of everything. Kay doesn't seem like the sort of man that would give up his likes easily. Though I am not sure what golf is..." No, Grainne. Don't... don't go down that path like Elle did.

[what_ho_jeeves]

"I say, you don't know what golf is? I thought everyone knew golf."

Bertie now considers it his duty to explain.

"It's this sport, you see, invented by chaps in Scotland, because they have a lot of holes there. The general idea is to take a club and then put a ball on the ground then give the ball a good whack with said club, such that the ball goes flying through the air, ideally towards the green. You want to get the ball in the hole, without falling prey to sandtraps and wayward trees and the like.

"And then afterwards you picnic and drink whiskey and s."

[athousandcurses]

Bertie had the most unusual ability to confuse and confound Grainne with the strangest of things spoken in the most matter-of-fact yet confusing way, and often over-explained. It was not unlike certain authors of very popular visual novels, really.

Still, only one question popped into Grainne's mind. "It sounds very dangerous and thrilling. Is this club like the ones they use in caber tossing?"

[what_ho_jeeves]

Bertie had never seen a caber tossing, but he didn't want to admit to ignorance and be thought foolish, so he nodded solemnly and replied, "Yes, could be, could be."

[athousandcurses]

Grainne froze for a moment, imagining the giant caber pole being swung like a mace at a small ball on the ground... The image repeated a second time, and then...

She burst out laughing. Not just a ladylike musical note, but a full-throated belly laugh the like of which she hadn't had in... well, a very long time. Certainly before the Holy Grail war.

And... it was a good thing. For a long time after the war's end and coming to the resort, she hadn't thought she would feel laughter like this again.

[what_ho_jeeves]

Bertie didn't think he'd made a joke, but then sometimes his sparkling wit surprised even himself. So he laughed along merrily and enjoyed having put someone in good humour.

[athousandcurses]

Soon enough, Grainne gained control of herself and sighed. "Do you like sports, Bertie? Maybe I could teach you something I learned in my youth. It's not a physical activity, but it still was considered a sport."

[what_ho_jeeves]

"I like the sports that involve less violence, on the whole. Although no Wooster would balk at a battle, I can't say I find running up against other men and smashing together with bone-breaking intensity very leisurely. Rugger and soccer aren't for me. I prefer the sports that don't typically incur serious injury, like cricket and billiards, darts and cards."

[athousandcurses]

"You might like fidchell then. A game of strategy." Grainne certainly has missed playing against others, though she might have to make board and pieces for it herself...

[what_ho_jeeves]

"Fid-chell," Bertie said carefully. "Dashed lot of consonants there. So, how does it work? A strategy game, you say? I am a master at strategy games amongst my peers."

But only because his peers were Barmy Fotheringay Phipps, Tuppy Glossop, and Gussie Fink-Nottle. If there was a perfect word to denote the exact opposite of an intellectual, it would describe they.