observation six; voice

[soulbonder]

It seems that with the inclusion of eight hours sleep in my schedule, time moves distressingly fast. I did not know two weeks could pass so quickly! In order to make up for this lost time, I will address several matters at once. [efficiency! ... or so he thinks anyway]

Why do humans of this Earth celebrate a holiday about a very strange imPort?

Jesus Christ, I do not appreciate your cat image attachments and it is rude to force your bizarre human holidays onto me. While I may have asked [forced] Yuma to purchase a dead pine tree to decorate with many bright lights and colorful round bulbs, it was because they were quite pretty and did not have much to do with your horribly hairy, four-legged abominations. To be honest I am reluctant to fully partake in your holiday and would appreciate it that you never send me another e-mail again.

[clears this throat] Now, onto other matters...

On November 27th, ten cards were scattered across the City. A friend of mine managed to reclaim some of them. It is of utmost importance that anyone who possesses these cards return them to me immediately.

They are dangerous. I'm aware that it is strange that something so simple could cause such devastation, but they are more than just cards.

They are pieces of my memory.

They bind to Duelists and amplify the desires in their heart; it's logical they take the form of an object only a Duelist yields.

What happened that week far exceeded my expectations. I never thought they were capable of mutating inanimate objects. I also did not know their influence could be so widespread. If you or anyone else were acting strangely during that period, it is extremely likely to be due to them.

I've been informed there are more Duelists in this world, much more than I originally thought. I urge you not handle them. While it is possible to overcome their influence on your own, such instances are rare. In my current state, I do not have power necessary to extract them from your body should they bind to you.

They are black cards and written in my native language. If you have one, Yuma will be the one to reclaim them. [translation: it is cold and I don't want to, so I'm going to make the person I threw out a window go instead]

[a beat, if you think the feed will end here you are so wrong]

...How can I make my hair stand up straight again? It continues to fall into my face, and it is very distracting.

Comments

[soulbonder]

[Oh wow! Confetti!!! Light up neckwear! Music. Festive! It doesn't match Astral's expectations... No, it's way better. (Christmas is better, it involves shiny bright lights and colorful bulbs. Certainly no trickery or large, frightful balloons.)

What did the man do with that strange tool though? Astral makes a note of that before dragging Yuma into the house. Astral hasn't quite figured out walking in shoes on just yet; balance is a new concept he's never dealt with before! So Yuma is just as good as a crutch as the ones he's holding. It's obvious with how Astral walks he's not used to it, even with plenty of practice.

He's kinda all sorts of excited. This is the best thing. Best house.]

Christmas is a big day? I thought it was a holiday... Can holidays be big?

[soulbondee]

Hrr--hey! [Between the door and the dragging, Yuma has to hop in with his crutch flailing in the air to keep from falling over. Dammit Astral let a guy get his fake leg on the ground before you haul him off somewhere! It gets tangled in some of the decorations, but somehow manages to make it back to the ground without breaking anything. There's a snake of garland stuck to it, trailing behind as Astral and Yuma go further into the house.]

[daft_old_man]

[His smile couldn't have been any larger]

Holidays can be as big as you want them to be!

Oh, I have eggnog! Do you like eggnog? Of course you do, everyone does.

[He moved a few things out of the way so that the pair wouldn't fall, but really there was just too much to get in the way.]

Hold on, I'll get drinks! It's full of eggy nog!!

[The Doctor was running to the kitchen before either could answer. From there he yelled out] CAREFUL WHERE YOU SIT I LOST SOME ORNAMENT HOOKS IN THE COUCH!

[He was back with a punch bowl full of eggnog with tiny cups hanging from the bowl]

I made this myself.

[soulbonder]

[Impressive!!!] I never had eggnog before. [He lets go of Yuma's arm to take off his boots, because now he remember manners! But dammit these boots are impossible to remove. He just kinda gives up because they're not getting off.

...Then he's quickly distracted by all the ornaments. There is a train. Oh my, there is a train. Stumbles over to it to watch it. IF ONLY HE COULD FLOAT AND GO INTANGIBLE HE'D BE ALL FOLLOWING IT.

Until he notices something else and goes to look at that too.

Were they here for something? Because Astral's attention is definitely... elsewhere right now.]

[soulbondee]

[And there goes the alien! Yuma shakes his free arm, finally getting his balance back, huffing.] Jeez, wasn't this supposed to be quick? [But nobody's there to pay attention to Yuma, so he shrugs and follows after, looking around the place. It's really... bright. He leans against the arm of the couch--

and then tumbles backwards right onto it when the Doctor reemerges, crutch clattering to the floor. There's a high-pitched squeal beneath Yuma, who rolls to the side with--] Sorry, ow, ow, sorry! [--as a Something climbs out from behind his head. For, having ridden in Yuma's hood, is a small furry passenger. The cat-looking creature flaps its stumpy little wings and looks sadly at Yuma, then curiously at the Doctor. Curious cat-monster thing.

Yuma, meanwhile, needs to pick ornament hooks out of his lower back.]

[daft_old_man]

You can't have Christmas without eggnog.

[Funnily he doesn't drink it himself as he's FAR too interested with what fell out of the jumpy fellow]

Why hello there. I can't imagine that head of hair is too comfortable a ride. Eggnog?

[soulbonder]

[Hello, Astral is here now in the Doctor's personal space.] Do I just take a cup? [And he is pointedly ignoring Baby Tragon's existence.]

[soulbondee]

[The creature bounds across couch (and Yuma, landing hard on his stomach like every proper cat) towards the Doctor, always ever eager for positive attention. Who is this? What is he offering? She is all too eager to find out.

Yuma sits up sharply, annoyed.]

There is nothing wrong with my hair!!

[daft_old_man]

[Personal space? What's that? The Doctor nods eagerly before finally looking up at the boy. Something was curious here. He takes out his sonic and scans the boy as he hummed]

Oh, now aren't you interesting.

We haven't all been introduced have we? I'm the Doctor.

[He looks over at the other boy and his creature]

If my hair stands like that Amy makes rude remarks about poking eyes out. Poor kitty.

[soulbonder]

[That's bizarre. What did he do with that screwdriver and why did he point it at him?] ... Interesting? [Narrows his eyes but continues on being well, confused.]

Yes, hello Doctor. I am Astral.

[soulbondee]

And I'm just here for Numbers. [HUFFY. Yuma pivots on the couch, rising to stand on his good leg. The cat-thing flaps its wings and gets to hovering, moving closer to the Doctor to examine that punch bowl. She makes a curious cooing sound. Yuma remains ever the irritable storm cloud.] You have it or not?

[daft_old_man]

Numbers? Hm, nope I don't have any numbers.

Oh! I have a phone book, you can have that if you need a few numbers.

[He pours some eggnog into the cups and even serves one for the cat.]

So, Astral...interesting name. I've met lots of interesting people in this city. I can tell your one of them.

[soulbonder]

Yuma means the coat that you are keeping in your dishwasher, Doctor. The cards I mentioned are called Numbers. [Looking at the eggnog in his cup.] What is this exactly? Strange colored milk? [May as well try some!]

[There's a visible cringe here and he sticks out his tongue. It tastes.. ... NOT SURE HOW TO FEEL ABOUT IT. Stares quizzically at Yuma (WHAT IS THIS EMOTION YUMA) and then back up at the Doctor. Grimaces. Right, ok, sets the cup down on the coffee table. Quickly crosses his arms, it's all an attempt to regain composure here.]

[soulbondee]

Dishwasher? [Yuma's free hand makes a sort of rolling motion in the air.] That would be in the kitchen, right? I'll get it.

[And so Yuma picks up his crutch by the garland and tries to hobble off in the direction the Doctor had gotten the eggnog from in the first place. Surely a dishwasher and a refrigerator would be in the same place, right?

Meanwhile, Baby Tragon makes a delighted little "Oooaaahhh" and tries taking the cup -- but her stubby little arms can only hold against the lip, and she can't take it out of the Doctor's hand. So she goes for the next best thing: perching on his arm and sticking her face into the cup.

But no, she doesn't like it either: the monster jerks back from the cup, eggnog dripping from the fur around her mouth, and her expression is much the same as Astral's. Grimacing, tongue sticking out, "bleh" noises, and trying to wipe that heavy liquid off her face.

Gross!!]

[daft_old_man]

Don't let it get loose again! I just cleaned up the last mess.

[As it was, said dishwasher was somehow tied with rope and should one of the buttons be pushed the thing would start to jerk around as though trying to free itself.

The Doctor took his own sip of the eggnog and instantly spit it back into the cup.]

Right, won't make that again. Rubbish. Too much nog I think.

[He dumps all the cups into the bowl and sets the thing under the coffee table]

Why don't you tell me why these Numbers are so important.

[soulbonder]

They are the pieces of my memory given form. [Wanders back to the couch to sit]

[soulbondee]

[Well, it's probably a good thing neither of them are in the kitchen with Yuma; instead, the extremely loud thudding of the dishwasher in addition to the even louder thudding of Yuma seemingly trying to break the dishwasher with his crutch. There's other miscellaneous noise, like Yuma's PG swearing and wet fabric slapping the wall, but it serves better as radio entertainment than television programming.

And Astral you can suck it up, Baby Tragon flutters back to the couch, resting on the arm. Won't you pet her, Astral? She's making the saddest of all eyes.]

[daft_old_man]

All right in there Spiky-Boy?

[He really doesn't sound as concerned as he should be, but then this all rather normal for him.

Looking back at Astral he grins]

Memories are tricky things. That's why I try not to think about mine.

[soulbonder]

There isn't much to think about when you have so very few of them. [Attempts to distract himself by looking at all the ornaments around the room again. He's ignoring Baby Tragon, because he is a big fat jerk still isn't used to it and it's cat and augh. Cats. Augh.]