DECEMBER PROMPTS: 'TIS THE SEASON OF GIVING

[Christine Daaé]

December is here and you know what that means... A new month means a new prompt! December is often called the season of giving, aptly so considering the many wintry holidays which generally include some sort of giving during the month. For this month, December, there will be three prompt options (as per usual), all based around this theme of “giving” in one way for another. As usual, your response to a prompt is worth 15 euros and in order to receive those euro you must post a response to the IOU list after you reply to the prompt, stating that you replied to this prompt specifically, and also stating which character is owed the 15 euro. This being said, I now set you off to be free to write. Write away, my lovelies, and Happy Holidays.

P.S. If you put your response in Holiday colors (red, white, green, blue, gold, or silver), I will personally give you 2 extra euro in rep (give/thieve option). If you choose to do so, do not add this into the IOU. I will award it personally.

*OPTION ONE ~ THE PERFECT GIFT*

Your character is trying to come up with what to give their significant other (close friend, spouse, child, parent, student, teacher, third cousin's uncle twice removed, etc. as long as they're special to your character) IN THE MANOR (or neighboring village). What would your character get for this person? How would they go about obtaining the gift? How would they present the gift to this significant other? Your task is to write an account of your character going out to find this gift (or making it as the case may be) and then presenting it to their significant other. Your response must be at least five paragraphs in length and contain both proper spelling and grammar. You may wish to include a picture of the gift (use the code [img][/img] with the direct link to the photo in the center), however, it is not necessary to complete your response.

*OPTION TWO ~ THE FAVORITE GIFT*

Your character has more likely than not received at least one gift during their lifetime, however obscure that gift may be. It could be something elaborate, or merely something tiny and simple, even just a gesture that touched their heart and that they remember fondly. Now, of all of the gifts that your character has received, what gift was most precious to them? What made this gift so precious? Who was it from? In this option, your character is either reflecting back upon when they received, or is currently receiving a gift that is “the most precious” to them. You should include things like how old your character is when they are receiving the gift, their initial reaction, their reaction later on if it changed, etc.. Your response must be at least four paragraphs in length and contain proper spelling and grammar. You may, if you wish to, write in first person for this response. As with the previous option, you may wish to include a picture of the gift (use the code [img][/img] with the direct link to the photo in the center), however, it is not necessary to complete your response.

*OPTION THREE ~ THE MOST PRECIOUS GIFT OF ALL*

What does your character desire more than anything else in the world? It could be an object, a person, a feeling... anything, really. Why do they want this thing so much? Your task for this prompt option is to have your character explain their heart's greatest desire, along with what they would do and how they would feel if they actually received this as a gift. Would they be compelled to give something back in return? If so, what would they give to express gratitude for such a tremendous gift? Your response should be at least three paragraphs in length and contain proper spelling and grammar. This option may be written in first person if desired. As with both of the previous prompt options, you may wish to include a picture of the gift (use the code [img][/img] with the direct link to the photo in the center), however, it is not necessary to complete your response.

[Erik Castagne]

Option Two - The Favourite Gift

It was the morning of December 24th, the eve of Christmas. The windows were painted in lovely crystalline snowflake patterns along the edges. The little boy pressed his almost noseless face to the glass of the window, pulling the curtains about himself, so that not as much of his face would be visible if someone happened by and looked up at the second storey of the house. He took pains to keep himself hidden from view, for the taunts, laughter and fear he had felt from other children was nearly unbearable to the seven year old boy.

It was snowing lightly, upon a base of thick snow which had built up in the empty field next to his home. The children from the village often played here,for there was a moderate hill they could sled upon. Perhaps they came here also to possibly catch a glimpse of the “evil” little boy whom they had heard lived in this large house. Only some of them had seen him. He never went outside to play because of this fact. He wore a mask most of the time, but took it off when he was in his bedroom alone. He hated wearing it. However, if anyone came to the house to visit his mother, he wouldn't be without it. There were only a few relatives and friends who had seen Erik, and then only with his mask. He was very shy around anyone and would hardly say a word. Most of his time was spent with his mother and by himself, reading, learning, making things and dreaming...but most of all music. Erik was a musical prodigy and anything musical fascinated him. He taught himself to play his mother's piano and the violin that had been played by his father, Pascal, whom he had never met.

The snow let up and the sun came out. The day turned into a lovely winter day and the children started to come out. It was the best place in the whole village to slide down a snowy hill on a sled or throw snowballs, behind an imaginary castle made of snow. Erik watched for hours, wishing he could play outside. Wishing he had a sled to whisk happily down the hill on his stomach. When anyone looked up, which was seldom, Erik pulled the curtains over his face. But then little by little he pulled them apart and watched the children again, his breath fogging the window.

His fondest wish was to play with the children, and yet he was mortally frightened of them. He could barely speak to anyone but his mother and often he spent so much time alone that he hardly spoke to her either.

Anne Castagne had been frightened of her baby when she had first borne him. She thought him evil, but when he acted as any normal child, she began to see him as normal. Unfortunately, her husband, Pascal, left one day when the baby was only a few months old, telling Anne he could not bear the sight of the child. He never returned. Anne cared for her deformed baby and she was always kind to him. But they didn't spend much time together, and Anne found it hard to hug and kiss Erik, which she did, but rather seldom.

His mother rarely imposed on his solitude in his room where he spent most of his time. Anne was lonely too. She had few friends and didn't cultivate any more after Erik's birth. Perhaps she blamed him for her isolation and the loss of her husband, but she never said that and she never abandoned her child.

The afternoon went slowly. Erik continued to watch the scene below him on the snow hill until it was dark and the children went home. Yet he watched and dreamed. Then there came a knock on the door and Erik turned from the window. He ran to the door and opened it. “Maman?” She smiled, noticing the curtains awry and knowing he had been looking out at the snow. “Ah, Erik, the snow is cold. You should be glad you are inside where it is warm.” She glanced at the fireplace in his bedroom to make sure it was still burning. “I've brought you some dinner, Erik. I will come later and pick up the dishes.” She put the food on a table and patted his black hair. He smiled . “Don't go, Maman...”\

“I must, Erik. I have work to do.”

Erik sighed with resignation. His mother closed the door after her. He spent the afternoon playing and reading how to build a model of a building.

Finally he was tired and put his night shirt on and went to bed, falling asleep quickly. But he was awakened by another knock at the door. “Erik, come quickly. Dress yourself; put your coat on. There is something you must see!” Erik rubbed his eyes and sleepily dressed. What on earth could his mother want? He went downstairs, and lo and behold there was a Christmas tree. It was decorated with spiced oranges, apples, candy canes and coloured balls. There was even an angel dressed white and gold, sitting on the top of the tree.

Erik was completely surprised and absolutely delighted. He looked at his mother with questions on his strange little face. And then he saw it...a beautiful sled! It was lovelier than any of the other children's sleds. It was wooden, painted with red, with a red rope to pull it and shiny green metal runners. His eyes lit up and his mother glowed.

“But ….where can it be used?” he asked in confusion.

“Here is your coat, Erik and a warm silken mask for your face. Let us go out now!” She looked positively radiant with the thought of giving her child something he wanted. Other years she had given him books and small toys, but this was the best gift ever! Mother and son donned warm coats and Anne carried the sled outside. The air was crisp and cold. Erik shivered a bit. What was she going to do?

Anne took the sled to the top of the little hill and showed Erik how to lay on his belly on the sled and hold on. She gently gave the sled a push and he went flying down the hill. Ecstasy! It was the most wonderful feeling! Anne and Erik played for hours in the snow that early morn. She even joined him a few times on the back of the sled and they both screamed in delight.

It was the most wonderful gift Erik had ever received....but it was not so much the sled, it was the comraderie of Erik and his mother …. together... having a wonderful time...early one Christmas morn.

[Marguerite Jules Giry]

//This is for Option Two: Favorite Gift //

Snow falled through the sky and Meg was only ten years of age when this happened. Having been a good student and daughter all this time she remembered when her mother gave her a little white delicate little box. They were poor yes, but she had enough money to buy her daughter something. Coaxing her into her room Meg hopped up onto her mothers lap and she opened up the box.


Inside the box was a little locket. Meg tilted her head and she looked up at her. Opening it she smiled softly at the picture of her father and her mother. Meg had worn it until she became sixteen years of age. Then her mother bought her another necklace but this one had a cross on it. And with that one she wore it ever since. It was her favorite christmas gift she ever received from her mother.

[anastasia]

*OPTION THREE ~ THE MOST PRECIOUS GIFT OF ALL*



Nothing could brighten her spirits more than the Holidays. The lights. The Decorations. The Christmas Tree. Holiday treats. A special Christmas Feast. Gift giving. And if the year was a lucky one, then snow would blanket everything and turn it into the perfect winter wonderland to have a white Christmas. Very little could dampen her sprightly spirits at this time of year. She had already been doing a few things to welcome the Holiday season by decorating the Manor, making Christmas cookies and treats, and enjoying a night or two outside to gaze at the stars. Even when it snowed or flurried be like a child on a whim to catch a flake with her tongue or even a sleigh ride which was quite enjoyable! Hot Chocolate with a peppermint stick melted into it or eggnog with grated nutmeg on top were her favorite holiday treats to drink. Best of all though were the Christmas songs that sometimes she would hum or sing on a whim, but always played a lot especially in her suite.

It was one overcast, snowy day that a large parcel package arrived for her. A grin spread upon her face in wonder of who it was from until she saw the address as tears welled in her eyes on the verge of crying-
"Mom," she said softly but with such a strong forlorn tone for the one woman who oddly she missed. They were on decent terms. Not really at major odds against one another to a point of never seeing one another but nor were they incredibly close. Just normally connected as a mother and grown daughter usually would be. They were once very close but a lot in life had made her mother realize she was not a little girl any more. They were fairly friendly and often enjoyed a morning at Panera Bread to catch up at least once a week.

Wiping away the tears then heaved the large, heavy box inside through the foyer. This would be a challenge to haul it to her room so she moved it to the side to set it upon two chairs facing one another next to a wall table. Opening the box and started going through it. A couple of gifts all wrapped up and she smiled. It was obvious where those were suppose to go. Pulling them out and setting them upon the table then went back to sort through the rest of the stuff in the box.

Pull out a couple of small boxes that looked like it held some sort of jewelry in it perhaps. She opened one paper/cardboard box and sure enough, it was her holiday earrings and she smiled. Setting them aside, she looked at another cardboard/paper box and frown. Practically frozen with a flood of emotions and bad memories. It was the Engagement ring that Mike had given her years ago. She'd never really could ever get over such a blow like that. Closing the box then set it aside, wondering why in the hell she kept that ring. Was she hoping he would come back? She tried a few times to take it to a pawn shop but just could not seem to part with it.

Under those little boxes that held the jewelry - a couple more with a necklace given to her by another boyfriend, even some friends giving her oddball stuff, even a small little simple cross of gold on a fine chain that was given to her by her Grandmother - there were some pictures. Pictures that were both good and bad. Of people she wanted to remember and others she wanted to forget. A few of them of her best and favorite pictures. She smiled at those at least. Reaching in to see her favorite doll and began to cry. It was her favorite because she had given it to her Great Grandmother the last Christmas she was alive for when summer rolled around she died. The doll was given back to her and it was one she ALWAYS cherished. Holding the doll that was named Sarah Marie by her Great Grandmother, smiling at the memory of seeing the old woman's face light up at the sight of the perfect china doll with beautiful brunette tight spiral curls, gentle features and an outfit of gold! Dress, hat, shoes, and all! Yes, this was one gift that kept giving as it provided wonderful memories that would last until the day she died.
More items that she held so dear and would bring a good number of tears and memories back to her.

Putting the few items back in the box that should go with her up to her room, leaving the box in the foyer as she took the wrapped gifts, that were for her and one for Billie, to the large Sitting Room where the large Christmas Tree now stood decorated and lit up.
Moving over to the decorated tree and placed the gifts underneath it. Then spotted the fire that was still going but just barely. Thinking for a moment before she made her back to the foyer, opened the box and took out some of the pictures and the Engagement ring. Going back to the Sitting Room and hovered next to the mantle of the fireplace. She sorted through the pictures. The ones that were not worth keeping or displaying, she tossed into the fire, watching them melt and burn into dust. Especially those of her past boyfriends and her former Fianceé. It was time to turn a new leaf once again, she really had to let go of that past. She found a new family here at the Manor. Granted they were strange at first since they were suppose to be fictional characters but once she got to know them, they became more real and less the characters from a novel story. New friends. New family. New hope.

Holding the Engagement ring, looking at it as the diamond caught the fiery glow from below in it's multi-faceted prisms of the princess cut. She fought so hard wanting to toss it into the fire, but she refrained. What good would tossing a ring into a fireplace do? It would still be there and most likely someone would find it. No, she needed to get rid of it permanently! Instead, perhaps she could finally pawn it off and get a little money from it to buy something a little more worth while to give to someone else or treat herself.
She sighed as she gazed at the ring, fighting the tears. All those lies and moments meant nothing to him apparently. All she ever wanted in life was to really be loved. To have someone to stand by her, love her, grow old together with, have kids - which she was feeling her biological clock ticking away! 36 years old and she was getting no younger - to muddle through life with someone going through the same situations, to support and be supported by.
A tear streamed down her face. That beautiful face of hers that could get any man she wanted and yet, all they did was hurt her in the end. She saw friends and family members get married after finding someone. But she never was that lucky enough to have someone so special. It was difficult with each passing Christmas to be alone.

She lost all track of time while crying silent tears by the fireplace in the Sitting Room. Deeply inhaling while wiping away the tears then said a silent prayer to God. For all she wanted for Christmas, any Christmas, was to find the one man who would love her. That would be a gift that kept giving every day for the rest of her life. There would be no more heartache, no more loneliness, no more forlorn hope that was dying. Material gifts meant nothing if they never filled that one part of her that was always empty.

Closing the little fancy jewelry box and stuffed it in her pocket. Leaving the Sitting Room to go back to the foyer where she picked up the box of cherished items and took them upstairs to her suite where she set some of the items up right away to make the place a little more personal.
Once she was finished with the little decorating of those cherished material things throughout her room, she left the Manor and went to find a pawn shop. It was time to let go of something that was never to be. She had already gotten rid of the Wedding Dress, just burned the pictures, but now the final release was that ring would complete it all. It felt two sided really. Glad to get rid of it but sad because she wondered if she will ever find Love.
Love from that special man who would be willing to be with her forever.

LOVE.
That would be the ultimate Gift.

[Erik Lenoir]

THE FAVOURITE GIFT

Erik's mother seldom let him leave the house, and then never alone. But that didn't mean that he didn't leave the house by himself. In fact, he left without her permission and knowledge constantly and was quite confident that she would never find out.

At nine years old, Erik had experienced nine Christmasses, the first two he didn't remember, but by his third year he was remembering more than most children. He looked forward to the decorating of the house and he was allowed to see it only when guests were not at the house. Most of them did not even know of his existence. Only a few relatives knew, but never said anything. Erik's mother never allowed him to take part in the festivities, although she would have some holiday food taken up to him after the guests had gone. And he did get gifts, but nothing he really wanted. It was always a nightshirt or a pair of trousers or something of the sort. Strangely the little boy who would grow up to be quite proud of his fine clothing, had not much use for them as a child.

Being quite bored, Erik would steal out, usually after his mother was in bed and just walk about the town, avoiding and hiding from anyone who was walking outside at that hour. One night, some weeks before Christmas, Erik happened to pass by the church. The architecture of it fascinated him and he often studied it and other buildings on his night journeys. This evening he heard singing coming from the church. The stained glass windows glowed with the light from within. But the lovely sound, the blending of voices, was so wonderful.

Erik wondered if he could come inside the church and find a place to hide where he could hear the sound in its fullness. He timidly found a door which led to the cellar. He could still hear the singing but it was a bit muted. He found the stairs in the dark and he ascended quietly. He was in the church now and still the choir was above him. The strains of the organ gave background to the voices, but sometimes they sang a capella and that Erik found almost ethereal and heavenly. He wondered how he could get closer. That night he didn't. He stayed in the shadows and listened. By virtue of his excellent memory, by the time the choir was finished singing, he had almost memorized the music.

He left before the choir came down from the loft. All the way home and all the time he was alone, which was most of the time, he practiced the songs. The next time the choir met, he came early. He went into the church, which in his time was never locked. He went up to the choir loft and discovered there were velvet curtains on each side behind which he could hide. Every night that the choir practiced he memorized more of the music and words. But he was too frightened of discovery to sing aloud from his hiding place.

Then Christmas Eve came. Midnight. The night for which the choir had been practicing. Erik was excited. He would be there too, extra early. When the choir began to sing, he forgot himself and began to sing, in a beautiful ethereal boy soprano voice. He wondered if they would come and drag him out and make him leave or perhaps worse.He almost didn't care though, singing was so enrapturing him in joy. But nothing happened. The service went on as normal.When it was over, Erik was elated. He was happier than he had been in a long time. Tonight had been a special night. Even if his mouther would have discovered his absence, and punished him for it, that would not have taken away his joy at singing with the choir.

Then he heard it. Some people were discussing what they had heard. Someone from the congregation had come up to the choir loft and was talking with the choir members. "Do you have a new choir member?" she asked. I have never heard such lovely singing!

"No," answered one of the choir members. We wondered about it too. "It seemed to me that there was an angel joining us, the voice was so ethereal. But there was no one her except the choir. While we should of course like to to claim the voice was one of our members, we cannot. It was indeed a voice from heaven, the voice of an angel..."

Erik's eyes opened wide. An angel? They thought he sounded like an angel? After the choir left and Erik made his way home, he was dancing and running in joy. This was indeed the loveliest gift he had ever received. He had been able to sing with the choir unseen and they had thought an angel had joined them. What a lovely compliment for a little boy whose deformed face kept him from most of the normal joys of life...