2024-12-25 - Christmas Eve Fireworks

It's about halfway through Christmas Eve day when Elmo shoots a text to Chris: Doing anything later? I get off at five. There are fireworks.

He struggled a bit with the offer, both unsure whether he wants to officially celebrate the holiday and also whether it would be appropriate to ask someone he just met to spend it with him. In the end, his general "fuck it" attitude won out and he sent it off. Whatever happens happens.

The park and the arcade are as busy as ever, and he's thankful to eventually leave with The Freak on his shoulder and a modicum of festive cheer in his heart. People have been happy, even Dr. Miago, and that's rubbed off on him. "Tonight's gonna be a good night," he tells the rat, who squeaks back into his ear an affirmative.

Chris shoots back a text about ten minutes later that says: No plans. Fireworks are around 8 I think. I can meet you up there a bit before to grab a good spot.

Chris hadn't planned on anything special for the day. He'd actually spent most of it wandering the park as he usually did, taking one ride or another around and around and just sort of enjoying the decorations, the holiday cheer, and the crowds of guests enjoying themselves. So when he got Elmo's message, he had to admit he was grateful for the idea of company.

And so it's around 7:30 that he heads on up to the roof deck to find himself a spot for fireworks time. He's got on a pair of comfortable jeans, a bright red sweater, and a pair of reindeer antlers he got from somewhere in the park on his head, as he strolls out and meanders among those gathering to see the show. It's a pretty clear view over the water to the northeast toward where they will arc up over the amphitheatre.

Elmo has time to change into something other than his uniform, but does so down in the tunnels rather than going home, so he can also grab a quick bite to eat on the way to the resort. When he shows up, he's in a pair of jeans and a nice white sweater with a black leather jacket over that. Somewhere along the way, he scored a Santa hat.

To say that he looks like a fish out of water would be...accurate. Elmo has never been to this part of the resort before, and he takes it all in with a wide, sweeping glance. The flowers, the fire pits, the people. He looks down at his own outfit a grimaces before steeling himself to meander through the crowd.

It's The Freak who spots Chris first, squeaking into Elmo's ear and pointing with a little arm. "Good eyes," he says before walking over to the man, smirking at the antlers. "Merry Christmas, man. What a view."

Despite Elmo's feeling of fish-out-of-water-ness, he doesn't look at all out of place among the tourists. They're all dressed in various degrees of casual for watching fireworks on the roof. Varying degrees of festive colors, hoodies, jeans, and the like are pretty common. It's unlikely anyone would think of him as anything other than just another tourist coming up to watch the show.

Chris grins when Elmo and The Freak find him and says, "Nice hat." He moves over some to make room on the low cushioned bench where he's parked himself. "Merry Christmas," he says to both with a grin. Then he looks out over the water and says, "I know, right? I like to come hang out up here sometimes."

It must be something deep-seated within him, but also something he can ignore, because once Elmo is sidled up next to Chris, he feels himself loosen a tightness he didn't realize was there, then promptly not think about it at all.

"Nice antlers," he adds, noting that, "It's a pretty cool spot. Do they do drinks? Can I get you one?" He could sure one, it sounds like. Even a nice day at work is still a day at work, and tonight is for celebrating.

As he hunts something down, he wonders, "What did you get up to today? I think there were some new ice sculptures maybe? I haven't been out that way in a few weeks."

Chris says, "Watch this," and reaches up to squeeze the base of one antler, compressing a button within, and little colored Christmas lights throughout light up in red and green. He's very proud of his ridiculous antlers. He presses it again and then they start to cycle, winking on and off, and then he finally turns them off again. Then he nods back toward the roof bar and says, "Yeah. Back that way toward the middle. There's a bar. I'll have whatever you're having and save our seat."

"I went around and around on a few of the rollercoasters until I was feeling a little dizzy, then got some food. I didn't stop by the ice palace but I'll probably do that when the new show comes out."

Elmo lifts a brow and looks at the antlers, watching the way they light up with a little grin. "This reminds of the float we made." It takes him a moment to remember that Chris doesn't work here, so he explains, "We made teams and designed floats for the holiday parade. I did the lights on mine." He gestures as if it makes sense, given the magic this place brought about in him.

Glancing over his shoulder, he spots the bar and nods. "Totally should," he says of the ice palace, before turning to go grab them both a drink. He doesn't get more than a step, though, before he turns around and gently lifts The Freak from his shoulder to hand over to Chris. "Here, to keep you company while I stand in line."

"Oh yeah?" Chris asks and grins as Elmo explains. "Sounds like fun! Will I get to see it in the parade?" It does seem to make sense to him, all things considered.

"I will," he agrees and then looks a little surprised when Elmo hands over The Freak, but grins broadly and offers out cupped hands for the little rat to clamber into. He gives him a little scritch between the ears and says, "You can sit with me while Elmo gets drinks." Then he offers his own shoulder as a perching place as he settles back against the cushion and waits for the drinks to be acquired. There are people milling about and while there is a couple of people in line, it's not a long line to get the drinks.

Chris seems content to sit and chill with his new rat buddy.

Elmo thinks back to what the judges said of their work and nods, "We got some very positive feedback. Our theme was a bit of a mess, which works in our favor." Given that the result was a bit of a mess. "Try to guess which one is mine."

And then Elmo is gone, slipping into the crowd of Santa hats and reindeer antlers. The Freak watches him go, and for a moment they share a sense of anxiety at being separated, though it's mercifully brief. The rat turns to look at Chris, then at the view, balancing himself on the man's shoulder with one hand against his neck.

Not too long later, Elmo comes back with a couple Long Islands, because they're what he thinks of when he thinks of a fancy, yet approachable drink. "For you," he says, handing a glass to Chris, before settling down into the neighboring seat.

"I will," Chris says when Elmo says to try to guess which of the floats his his, grinning a bit. "With those clues, hopefully I'll be able to figure it out."

Can Chris sense that bit of anxiety? Probably not directly, but he can probably feel the rat watching Elmo depart. "He'll be right back," he says reassuringly. "Promise." He knows Elmo wouldn't just leave The Freak behind and he reaches up to give him another little scritch before settling back.

Reaching up, he takes the Long Island when it is presented to him with a grin. "Thanks!" He takes a sip from the beverage and sucks in a breath. "Hoo. Strong." There is definitely no tea in this tea.

A mess with lights. Yeah, Elmo really offered a lot to go on. When the parade does happen, though, he hopes it'll make sense. The Freak knows what he was talking about.

With long islands in hand and butts in seats, he finally feels like he can shed the weight of the day. "Are they?" he sniffs his drink. "Good, because they were expensive." He leans over to clink glasses before they drink, allowing The Freak to stay where he is.

"So, this is already better than last Christmas, where I had to work," Elmo says. "What do you usually do?"

Christopher laughs just a little bit and says, "I'll get the next round." He takes another sip of his, though, and seems to be enjoying it even if it is pretty strong. He leaves The Freak on his shoulder but doesn't offer him any of the booze. Fries, yes, booze, no. He puts his feet up on the little coffee table like thing in front of them and looks out over the water. One can't really here the music from the other island from here, but one can sort of see the lights flickering from the amphiteatre as the fireworks show gets closer.

"Um, not a lot, usually. Mostly just stay at home and watch TV. Eat Chinese food," Christopher admits when Elmo asks what he usually does. "So this is already more than I usually do." He grins. "And better company."

"Oh thank you." Not only will there be a second round, but Elmo won't have to get up for it. Merry Christmas, indeed. He glances aside at The Freak and lifts a brow as something passes between them, and then he turns away again. No booze for that one; it couldn't end well.

Nodding, he grunts at the usual Christmas fare like he's familiar with it. "Well, little do you know, I'm 70 percent Chinese food. Fan qie chao dan." That last bit is spoken with an impeccable Mandarin accent.

Though the mental image of a drunken rat passed out in a pint glass does cause Christopher to chuckle just a little bit to himself for a moment. He lifts his own glas for another slow drink. He didn't have the hard day that Elmo did, but he seems happy to have a glass in hand as he relaxes comfortably, gazing out over the water.

The sudden Chinese coming from Elmo has him raising both brows and glancing over to him in surprise. "You speak Chinese? Where'd you learn Chinese?" That seems to fascinate him. Then he thinks to ask after the fact. "And what did you just say?"

Elmo stares across the lake at the distant park. While it's not his first time at the resort, he's never quite had a view like this one. It's pretty, the way the lights twinkle and move, depending on what they're attached to.

"I do speak Chinese," he confirms with a slow nod. "Learned it at a Chinese restaurant." He looks at Chris then, smirking as he translates. "It's the name of a dish. Tomato and egg stir fry. It tastes...fine." When hhe looks back over the water, he finds his drink's little straw and sucks up some more.

Chris grins a bit at that and then chuckles when Elmo explains that what he'd said was the name of a dish. "That's cool," he admits. "I can speak a tiny bit of French, a tiny bit of Spanish, and know a few common signs in sign language and that's about all I've got. I can't really say a whole lot, just a few phrases and kind of sort of be able to figure out some basics."

Out over the water, the opening salvo of the fireworks show begins, several small golden streaks rising into the air and giving off a series of pops before two more larger stars explode above, red and green. One can almost hear the music over the water in the distance as several more volleys go off, rising high into the air and exploding with whistles and pops. The crowd lets out a cheer and several kids get into their oooohs and ahhhhs in appropriate measure.

Elmo nods and says, "I can't say even that much in those languages. It was just a lot of Chinese for a while there." He settles back and wonders, "What made you learn sign?" You hear Spanish and French often, but not that one.

As he awaits an answer, he's treated to the opening of the fireworks show, hearing the crackle-pops of what must be true explosions closer to the event. He joins the oohing and the aahing, nudging Chris to do the same if he doesn't react.

"I was watching some tiktok videos and I ended up falling down a rabbit hole," Chris admits. "About how difficult it is for people to read lips and that even knowing a little bit of sign is helpful in the cases where it might be needed. So I decided to try to learn a little. I'm not good at it, but I can ask some basic questions and understand the answers," he admits. "I haven't had a lot of opportunity to practice."

Chris laughs as he's nudged. He doesn't exactly ooh and ahh, though he did indeed clap and applaud the start of the show. It's not a lack of reaction, just perhaps not a verbal reaction. His attention seems to be fixated on the performance.

Elmo's oohs and aah were vocalized but definitely forced, not the result of a reaction so much as a comment on the reactions around him. And maybe to make someone smile.

"I hadn't thought of it, actually. Not until recently, when I met the park's interpreter." He thinks for a moment, then tilts his head to one side. "Can you sign tomatoes and eggs? Or even say it in French or Spanish?" Sip-sip-sip. "Do you even like tomatoes and eggs?"

He makes Christopher smile, whether he makes the others around them smile or not. Christopher bumps his shoulder lightly against Elmo's, but not with enough force to jostle The Freak who he remembers is still curled up on his shoulder. "Yeah, it's good that the park has one." Then he laughs and says, "No. I can't sign tomatoes and eggs." But he can say it in French and Spanish. "Tomates et oeufs, and, tomates y huevos." Then after a moment's thought, "I've had an omelette with tomatoes and other stuff in it, so I guess, yeah?"

"Oh, for sure," Elmo agrees, noting the little shoulder bump and the way The Freak holds onto Christopher's shoulder, acting more dramatic than necessary for the moment.

He tsks and pulls his phone out as the foreign languages drift gently toward him and the distant sky lights up with fireworks. "Huevos," he repeats quietly, searching for a video of how to sign these words. "The Chinese dish is pretty different, but also it's just fine. No cheese." He's assuming the omelet had cheese.

He plays a quick video that he's found, which is brief and okay, he figures. "Doesn't look too hard?" The entire language, though, is another story.

"For all your egg and tomato emergencies," Chris comments when Elmo looks up how to sign eggs and tomatoes. He's still watching the fireworks going on over the water, though and drinking his Long Island. One never knows when one might need to sign for eggs and tomatoes, though. He absently reaches up and gives The Freak another little scritch.

Between the warmth settling into him from the alcohol and the relative stillness of a clear night, it feels warm and cozy up on the deck, just listening to people ooh and ahh around, which he does eventually join in, just for amusement sake.

Elmo watches the video one more time (it includes some other food-related words, but he skips over those) and then slides his phone back into a pocket. "You never know. Word things happen around here and you might need a tomato. Or, more likely, an egg."

He sips a bit more of his drink and falls into an easily silence, the light from the fireworks playing across his stoic features. "You know, I used to watch this a lot when I first started working here. Not so much now. People get used to anything, I guess."

"I'll take your word for that," Chris says with a little grin. Elmo would know better than he would what sort of emergencies they might run into. Though he does fully believe that weird things happen.

"I mean, kind of makes sense. Having it infrequently makes it a little more special when you get to. Kind of like stuff you only do for specific holidays. Makes it feel more special when it comes around. I don't watch them every night either. But this is nice." He glances over toward Elmo, studying his features for a moment or two, and then watching as the show reaches its crescendo.

How could weird things not happen in a place like this? Elmo is partly surprised that nothing weird is going on right now, given all the tourists around with their magic.

Not his problem, though. He only has to worry about what's right in front of him, and next to him. Does he notice that he's being watched? Maybe, but he doesn't turn, instead leaning forward as the show introduces a dazzling array of fireworks that pop and burst at a staggering speed. "Woah...they really don't hold back for the holidays."

This actually puts a smile on Elmo's face. "Fucking cool, isn't it?" He turns to Chris during the climax giving him a big thumbs up, which extends to The Freak, too. A magic moment, maybe, without any actual magic at all! Well, almost.

There are certainly some weird things going on around them, but perhaps the degree of subtlety of weird makes it a little less obvious. There are definitely some drinks that are getting levitated to their owners with telekinesis, a little girl whose dress keep changing colors to match the fireworks, and even the bartender has a tail that he is employing to expedite the drink-making process. But it's true, one can get used to a lot of things.

"No," Chris says, agreeing. "They really don't." It is a glittering array of green and red and gold in the sky as the music gets loud enough to truly be heard across the water, and then it begins to ebb, the music dying down, the fireworks slowing, and eventually, the show coming to an end.

"Yeah," Chris grins as the show winds down. "Pretty fucking cool."

Speaking of telekinesis, a fruity cocktail floats past the two of them as the fireworks die down. Elmo is glancing aside, though, while The Freak gets out of the way and scampers onto the back of Christopher's chair. Sipping his drink again, he finds it coming to an end with a noisy slurp.

"Uh oh, all done," he says, looking down at whatever's left of the ice that was once inside. Then, he sets his glass aside onto one of the low tables and shifts a bit toward Chris. "What do you wanna do now?" His brows lift a few times as he stares expectantly.

Christopher turns and almost bumps his nose into the beverage, drawing back just in time before there's a sudden spill. Then he laughs. With his own drink finished, he says, "Do you want another round?" He had promised to get the next one, after all. People are starting to filter off the roof and head out either to their rooms or to some other late night entertainments.

He nods back toward the bar as he stands. "Or could go down to my room and hang out. Or.." he considers the time. "There might be something going on downstairs. I'd have to look, though."

Elmo swats at the drink. He doesn’t knock it out of the air or anything but makes his annoyance clear. “People gotta watch out,” he says, making show of trying to figure out who the telekinetic is. Does he really care? Nah.

“We could grab another and check out your place. I could hang.” He reaches for The Freak and lifts him up to set him back on his shoulder. “You like these rooms?”

Christopher chuckles at Elmo swatting at the drink as though it were some kind of gnat. "Alright," he says and then nods toward the bar. I will get us refills. And then he wanders over to the bar to get them each another drink, handing one to Elmo when he returns. Then, it's a drift over toward the elevator. They don't have far to go. The luxury suites are at the top of the building, and when they step out, it's into a very quiet private hall with only a few doors on this particular level.

"Yeah," Chris says. "I mean, it's really nice. Nicer than anything I've ever stayed in before." He taps his card against the door and it unlocks. He holds it open so that Elmo and the Freak can head in, and then he follows behind.

While Christopher is gone, Elmo and The Freak have their own little conversation, bits of meaning drifting between them as Elmo says things like, "No, it's not," and, "Come on, you think so, too." The rat may not know every word so much as the intention behind them, but it is what it is.

"Hey, thanks," he says, standing before he takes the drink from Chris and starts for the elevator. "Oh shit, it's the top floor." He shoots a puzzled look, but doesn't ask any questions. Inside, he just stands there a moment and looks around. "You are living the life, man."

Chris has only let one other person see the suite that he's actually staying in, but he can't just hole up there forever without ever letting anyone in, and so he hovers near the door as Elmo takes a look around. Is he holding his breath? Perhaps just a little. But then he lets it out, closes the door, and wanders further into the room with his glass in hand, taking a sip.

In one of the chairs in the living area is an ENORMOUS stuffed dragon from the midway that has a hat on its head, a pair of sunglasses perched on its nose, and a plastic martini glass filled with candy next to it. The chair seems to be becoming the souvenir shrine of things Chris has collected around the park.

On the desk on the other side of the room is his gaming laptop. The room itself is very neatly kept, in part due to the regular housekeeping, and in part just because that's the way that Chris is.

"Yeah it's.. pretty amazing." The view of the lake isn't bad either. Or, it would be a little more impressive in the daylight. It's mostly dark at night.

Elmo does a slow walk around the room. He pauses first by the chair that holds Chris’s horde and pokes the dragon with a finger. “Where’d you win this guy?” he wonders, head turned so that he looks over his shoulder at the man.

Then, he continues to explore, eager to check out the view from the room. “I’ve never been up this high. In a room, I mean.” Obviously, they were just on the roof. “Very, very dope.”

When he eventually wanders back over to Chris, he takes a sip of his “tea” and wonders, “Want to put some music on? What are you into?”

"Midway," Chris says as he drifts further into the room along with Elmo. "Jett's booth. Pretty sure he let me win by giving me the sharp darts," he says with a wry little smile. He wanders over to one of the chairs and leans one hand on its back as he sips his drink, just letting Elmo wander around the room. That's certainly the first thing he did the first time he saw it.

"Sure," he says at the suggestion of music and wanders over to find the TV remote and flips over to the smart TV and one of the music apps. "Little bit of everything," he says, "Got any preferences? Could just put on a random mix of something." He then smiles wryly, "Except holiday music. Pretty sure you're done with that interspersed with all the park music."

Elmo smirks when he hears Jett's name. "Yeah, I bet he did. Jett's a buddy of mine." That may not be a huge surprise, though the Midway is a big place, with plenty of employees. They can't all know one another, right?

The mention of holiday music gets a groan. "Definitely no holiday music. What are your jams? Clue me in." He nears the desk next and eyes the gaming computer. "This is nice. What are you playing?" He figures it must be good, or at least interesting, given how much Chris seems to be into the arcade.

"I play a lot of Overwatch 2 right now," Chris says. "I play World of Warcraft as well. I let Jett play some of that. Showed him how to set up a character and run around the starting zone." Nerds.

He pokes about on the TV and pulls up Pandora and chooses a "90s and 00s mix" playlist and just sort of lets that start up so that he doesn't have to think too hard about whatever's playing.

"I don't know as I have any particular jams. I just sort of listen to a mix of different things. Matchbox 20, Chappel Roan, Waterparks, Troye Sivan, Taylor Swift, Sleep Token... " It's kind of all over the place.

"You nerds," Elmo says, plucking the word right out of Chris's mind. "So Jett was here, too?" He steps back over to the chair with the dragon and hangs out there to check out what's in the martini glass. "I bet he went bug-eyed when he saw it." Teasing, of course, but he can't get over how nice the suites are.

When he sees the playlist that was chosen, he understands what Christopher means. "We gotta get you some jams. Some music to own." He tugs at something invisible and holds a fist before his chest.

As he walks back across the room, he finds himself swaying, though. Just a bit. A tiny bit. "This isn't so bad, though."

"Yeah, he came over to see my computer and play some games," Christopher says with a nod in that direction. "I told him it wasn't really all that much to look at it but he was interested." And it's really not. It's just a laptop when one boils right down to it. He smiles a little crookedly at being called a nerd. It's not inaccurate.

In the martini glass by the dragon are those little mint things that you get sometimes at restaurants, the little pastel colored circles that are like a chocolate mint under a candy coated shell, individually wrapped. They're poured in there to make it look like it might be a drink, but definitely isn't.

Both brows rise a little at this proclamation from Elmoa and he laughs, "Um, okay."

"Well you can pick the music, you know," he offers, holding out the remote.

Elmo kind of likes those mints, but finds the wrappers to be obnoxiously noisy, so he doesn't even pick one up to look at more closely. He just walks right on over to Chris and shakes his head. "Nope, that's not what I meant."

There's a little smirk on his face and a slight flush across his cheeks. "I think I'm a music nerd, that's all." There, they can both be nerds. He does take the remote, though, if only to set it aside on the nearest flat surface.

"So, uh, I'm glad you were free tonight. The Freak and I were just gonna watch Home Alone or something. This is way better." He tries for a real smile, a wide one, and it might come off a little awkward.

"There's nothing wrong with being a music nerd," Chris says with a grin as that slight flush crosses Elmo's cheeks. "I'm just a music philistine, I guess. I just.. pick things at random that I like and I couldn't tell you why I like them specifically, and I don't have any specific genres I like, or an artist whose entire album I listen to. It's just a giant mash of individual songs."

He lets the remote be taken and set away, not arguing at all. "Yeah, me too. I as just going to find some food and put something on the TV probably, or.. play more video games," he admits, looking over at the computer with a wry smile, "After whatever else was going on in the resort. I prefer the company." The smile makes him grin a little.

He takes another sip from his glass and then tugs Elmom toward the couch where he sprawls comfortably. "We could still watch Home Alone. I'm sure it's streaming somewhere."

Elmo shakes his head. "No, there's not." There's nothing wrong with being any kind of nerd that he can readily recall. "I'll send you some songs later. Just curious to see what you think, no pressure. I'll be judging you, but no pressure."Is he already judging? Well, kinda.

When he's tugged away, he pushes his hips and chest forward first to exaggerate the movement, then follows over to the couch. "Yeah? I'd watch some Home Alone with you. Do you get scared easily, though? Some people have a thing about home invasions."

Christopher laughs, both at the promises of both songs and judgment, "Okay. I will listen and give my honest opinion and await the judgment of the music nerd council." A council of one music nerd, Elmo.

Chris plops down on the couch but didn't think to grab the remote to take it with him and so he looks over it on the surface where Elmo laid it but is distracted by the question, brow furrowing at the idea of getting scared by Home Alone. "Who gets scared of Home Alone?" But then he pauses, "Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense." He probably never thought about it that way. "I don't. I mean, I'm sure I would if one actually happened. It'd scare the shit out of me. But.. I don't get scared of much that I see in the movies."

Elmo offers a very councilman-like nod before flopping back onto the couch, too. "I'll deliver my judgment via guitar riffs," he promises, though he'll probably outsource that to someone else.

From his seat, he notes the remote as well with a sigh. "This room doesn't come with a magic TV?" He blinks, then claps his hands, just to check if either would control the device. Nope, no luck. So, he gets up to ferry the remote back over. "Good, because I'd hate it if you clung to me in fear," he jokes.

Christopher laughs at the idea of judgment via guitar riffs. "I've heard of sad trombone, but sad guitar?" He doesn't seem to object to the idea at all.

Unfortunately, the TV is not powered by applause. So Chris just chuckles as Elmo gets up to go an fetch the remote and bring it back. He kicks off his shoes and puts his feet up on the coffee table in front of the couch and takes another sip from his drink, cheeks a little flushed from two very strong Long Islands in a row. "We'd have to put on a lot scarier movie for that to happen," he smirks.

Elmo does some air guitar. "Vroo-vroo," he intones, trying to mimic what a guitar might sound like if playing our the typical trombone tones. It's not great, but maybe it's funny.

Once he's back, he follows Chris's cue and removes his shoes. As he hands over the remote, though, he keeps a tight hold of it as he remembers something. "We could put on The Others," he suggests. It's not Christmassy, but it was a recommendation that Chris enjoyed.

It is funny and Chris laughs, shaking his head. He reaches out to take the remote from Elmo's hand but finds that he's still hanging onto it. One brow goes up a little as he holds the remote but doesn't try very hard to pull it away from him. "I thought you didn't want me to cling to you in fear," he points out with an amused smile. Not that The Others is all that scary, at least not to him anyway, but it's definitely a step up from Home Alone in that department.

For a moment, they both hold onto the remote, and Elmo adopts an almost competitive look as he considers what Christopher notes. "Oh, it would be so bad," he says with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. "Home Alone it is."

So, he lets go of the remote, pulls his legs up into a cross-legged position, and leans back. The Freak scampers around in a way that would make it obvious to anyone that he wants down. "Can I let him run around?" he wonders, gently pulling the rat from his shoulder.

Christopher narrows his eyes and gives a faint tug on the remote when Elmo gets that competitive look, as though there might be an actual tug-of-war match over the remote. But then it doesn't quite happen and he grins just a little amusedly. He ends up with the remote in his hand and he flips over toward the television, doing a search for Home Alone and pulling it up on the streaming service. Then he starts it up, setting the remote over on the coffee table before he settles back.

"Oh yeah, of course," he says when Elmo asks if The Freak can run around. "Make yourself at home," he tells them both and gestures to the suite as a whole. Plenty of room for the rat to explore if he likes.

"Thanks," Elmo says as he bends forward and lets the rat go. "Tell me everything you find," he whispers, just loudly enough for Christopher to hear. The Freak is off then, making for one of the far corners of the room.

When Elmo leans back, he notes how easily Home Alone came up on the TV. It really is a holiday classic. In order to make himself more comfortable, he slouches. This makes it slightly tougher to drink, though he does just that, wincing at the cocktails strength. "Should have left that dude a bigger tip," he says, sinking into the plush furnishing.

Christopher laughs when Elmo gives those instructions to the rat. Most of what there is to find is out in the open. The rest is just what one might expect to find in a hotel room and of course Chris' clothes, some of his books that he brought with him, his various toiletries in the bathroom, and not a whole lot else. It seems aside from his clothes and his laptop, he hasn't brought much of value with him. Unless there's some mystery hiding in the safe. But no, that's hanging open, so there's nothing stashed away in there either.

Chris is already slouched with his feet up on the coffee table but his drink is low enough in the glass at this point that he isn't having too much trouble finishing it off and setting the glass aside, "No kidding. They don't mess around here."

That's plenty for a rat to rifle through and for a human to draw senseless conclusions from. Christopher is a mystery, and for some reason Elmo doesn't want to ask about it straight out, so it's time for some armchair deduction.

Right now, though, he finishes off his drinks and sets it down so he can watch the movie. "Do people really live in houses like that?" Elmo wonders at one point during it. "His mom is so funny. The actress, I mean. What's her name?" This is a bit later. Then, when it becomes clear that that Kevin has been left behind by his family, he tsks audibly and nudges Christopher. "You said you wouldn't get scared."

Apparently, he's very annoying to watch a movie with.

The Freak's explorations would reveal a few things about Christopher:

1. He clearly came here traveling light. For someone who has been here as long as he has, he doesn't seem to have brought much and all that he's accumulated is in the chair with the dragon.
2. Nothing that he owns, aside from his admittedly nice (though not top of the line) gaming laptop, is particularly expensive, in direct opposition to the suite itself which must be costing him a ton.
3. His clothes are all casual, comfortable. Nothing formal. Nothing fancy. And none of them seem particularly new.
4. His reading material includes a few different novels including one book of assorted steampunk short stories, a world of warcraft novel, a graphic novel collection that is vaguely gothic horror and surreal, and a book about some kind of midnight circus.
5. The cabinets are filled with random snack foods and despite there being a bar in the room, it seems relatively untouched.

"I'd guess so. I'm pretty sure some of that is a real house," he says fishing out his phone to look it up. "Yeah, it's an actual house in Winetka, Illinois." Then he says, "Catherine O'Hara" without having to look that one up.

His phone is then dropped over on the couch next to him as he settles back in. The little nudge gets a laugh out of him and he reaches over to nudge Elmo back. "Do I look scared?"

The Freak gets through all of that slowly. At some point, he takes a five-minute power nap somewhere soft. Maybe in a shoe or on a carpet somewhere.

"What the hell is Winetka?" He seems unconvinced that it's real. Catherine O'Hara is very real, though, and he lifts a hand into the air to praise the comedienne.

"You're so scared for the kid," he teases, taking the nudge as an opening for him to lean in and poke at Christopher. "It'll be okay, though," he insists through some quick, huffing laughter.

Christopher is blissfully unaware that the rat is in fact actually making a complete inventory of his suite and the things that are in it. He's certainly gathered that The Freak is far more intelligent than the average rat, and average rats are pretty smart, but he hasn't quite caught on to whatever else might be going on there.

He laughs, "A town in Illinois, apparently." But he doesn't drag the phone back out to show Elmo. His belief in Winetka may remain unconfirmed and he may remain unconvinced.

Christopher smirks and then asks, "Are you sure? Are you sure it's going to all be okay?" He gives Elmo's arm a little shake, a solid jostle. "What if Joe Pesci makes him swim with the fishes?"

The Freak is, in fact, more intelligent than a rat. The two of them will discuss the inventory later, in fact, or at least share their feelings of this luxury suite encounter, but for now they enjoy things separately. Elmo laughs and enjoys the company, and his familiar rolls around on the floor.

"Joe Pesci wouldn't do that, Chris. He's a child." There's a bit more laughter, and it's coming out of Elmo without trouble as he's jostled around. During the little shake, he uncurls his legs and falls sideways onto the couch. "Maybe it's not going to be okay."

"Are you SURE?" Chris asks, pointing at the screen. "He sure looks like he wants to drown that kid!" He widens his eyes as though this all was truly troubling him and not just some very ridiculous pantomime for the sake of silliness and perhaps just a tiny bit fueled by the two long island iced teas consumed in fairly rapid succession. He laughs when Elmo falls over and then gasps, "See!" He throws his hands up, "It's not gonna be okay!"

Elmo lies there for a moment, one hand pressed against his chest as if he might have an attack from all of this. Instead, he slowly starts to shake his head. "At least the kid has one friend," he says of the film's homeless savior. "That's how we know it'll be okay." It's like some lesson from the film has suddenly fallen on him, so he pushes himself up to a seated position and leans just a touch in Christopher's direction. "That's a tough kid, though."

Christopher slouches back down into the cushions and lets his attention drift back toward the screen, his attention lingering there on the movie though only sort of half watching it. When Elmo leans toward him, though, he glances over and says, "So the power of friendship is all we needed all along?" His smile skews a little bit crooked. Then he lets his head tip back against the couch and says, "He's definitely resourceful. I'll give him that."

"Sure, that's what movies like to tell us," Elmo says, cozying up a bit, no doubt emboldened by the drink to rest an arm against Christopher's. He watches the man and the way the light from the screen and the room both play across his face. "What's the most elaborate trap you could think of. You know, if you had a couple of idiots like these trying to steal your family jewels." This is just an assumption, that Chris actually has family jewels. Given the suite and length of his stay here, can you blame him?

Christopher stares at the ceiling and looks thoughtful. But then he starts to laugh when Elmo says "family jewels", both brows rising up. "I'm pretty sure if anyone was trying to get their hands on my family jewels I'd probably just run. I mean, unless I wanted them to get their hands on them." He is definitely not talking about the same sort of family jewels. "Maybe one of those extra tight pairs of button fly jeans?" At least he thinks he's funny.

Elmo isn't sure why Chris is laughing at first, but it doesn't take him long to catch on. He rolls his eyes and shifts slightly to the side. "You'd just run?" That surprises him, but it isn't long before his attention turns to other things. Like humor. He glances down at Chris's jeans when he mentions extra tight button flies, then lets his gaze flit back up to the man. "They don't look so tight."

"Sorry," Chris laughs. "But yes that'd be the fastest way to get the jewels to safety!" And then he's trying not to laugh again but it's hard as he stifles it. Then he glances down and says, "Well, I wasn't planning on have to protect them tonight," he says. "Obviously." But then he lets that joke go and blows out a breath, reaching up to wipe a bit of a tear from his eyes. "Um okay most elaborate trap.." he gives it a genuine thinking over.

"I'd take that challenge," Elmo says, noting how much this is getting to the other man with an errant tearing wiped. He's turned away from the movie now to lift a brow and watch Chris think this over. He's not even sure how he would answer. It wouldn't be paint cans, for sure. Maybe it would involve bricks? Definitely a wok.

Chris grins over at Elmo and asks, "Are you a particularly fast runner?" He has entirely forgotten about the movie as he says, "I guess maybe I'd uh.." he pauses. "I'm a computer programmer, not really a mechanical engineer.. I guess I'd probably put LEGOs all over the floor, put vaseline on all the railings, turn off all the lights, and uhm... rig up some kind of.. battering ram to like.. plow into them." He squints. "Or something." Yeah, running is probably his better option there.

Elmo nods, though there's been zero evidence that he can run quickly. In fact, he's been nothing but a slow walker when they've hung out. Luckily, he doesn't have to prove it.

He chills against the comfy couch as Chris explains his elaborate trap, smirk widening with each addition to the dangerous series of challenges. "You know," he says, "besides the LEGOs, that's a very erotic trap." This makes him laugh a little, but there are no tears, yet.

Chris doesn't seem to be running anywhere to make him prove it, no. He is very comfortably slouched in the couch and not showing signs of going anywhere quickly anytime soon.

He opens his mouth, blinks slowly, and then goes over the trap in his mind again, and then groans. "I.. wasn't thinking about it that way," he admits though he WAS the one recently making jokes about the family jewels.

The groan is also funny, so Elmo turns his head and continues to laugh. "Okay, okay. There was a part of me thinking you were trying to tell me something." He shrugs and runs his hands down the side of his face. "You mind if I grab some water or something?" Sitting up a bit more, he eyes the minibar that he saw coming in here, then points at it. From around the corner somewhere, The Freak pokes his head out and looks in the very same direction.

There's a slight flush that touches Christopher's cheeks and he opens his mouth, but then closes it again when Elmo asks about the water and he nods. "Yeah, there's a fridge in the kitchen with water and soda and stuff in it." He runs a hand through his hair and then asks, "Grab me one too?" He's just.. gonna sit right here.

On the way to the kitchen, Elmo ducks down to run two fingers along The Freak's furry back. "Find anything interesting?" he mutters before rising again, not really expecting or needing an answer there. He finds the fridge easily enough, tugs it open, and retrieves two bottles from inside. One of these is tossed Christopher's way once he nears the couch. "You okay? I was just screwing around," he says as he sits down. "Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable in your own home."

Christopher reaches up to catch the bottle and opens it up. Shaking his head he is quick to smile and says, "No no.. you're fine. Everything's fine." Then he laughs, "I mean, it's not even my home. It's just a hotel room. But like, that's not the point." He just tips back the bottle and takes a long swallow from it, still unaware the rat is casing the joint. "I was just screwing around, too."

Elmo unscrews the cap and chugs the water. It isn't until he starts to drink that he realizes how thirsty he is. He needs one of those apps that track how much you drink in a given day.

"Well, uh, it was fun." He shrugs about the mutual screwing around and looks from the TV to Christopher. "I don't know. I should probably try to make a ferry home?" It may be a holiday, but at some point they stop running and he does not have enough money to stay at the resort overnight.

Christopher follows the glance toward the TV where the movie is gradually winding to a close. Then he says, "Or you could stay here. I mean.." He gestures vaguely to the suite. "There's three whole bedrooms and I'm only using one. You could each have one if you wanted," he points out with a faint smile, noting there's enough room for even The Freak to have his own bedroom if he wanted. "If you didn't want to catch the ferry back."

Elmo looks to one of the unexplored rooms, or at least the door leading to it, then back to Christopher and shrugs. "Well, if you're offering. I bet the beds here feel awesome." His own bed isn't bad, but these resort mattresses? Well, he's heard stories, all of them good.

"Are you sure, though? I mean...I've got another movie in me or whatever." He's not really tired, yet, being a bit of a night owl, actually.

"The beds do feel pretty awesome," Christopher says. "More pillows than you could possibly need, too."

"Yeah," he says, "I'm sure. I don't really get any company here. I mean other than that one time Jett stopped by. Seems kind of a waste with all these rooms. And then you don't have to take the ferry back and if you've got no plans for Christmas, there's at least a realy good Christmas breakfast here we could hit up in the morning."

"Breakfast sounds good," Elmo says, giving a thumbs up. "But then I have to head back home to do some Christmassy things." He looks only a bit apologetic, but this is his home now and he has a friend or two who are still around for the holidays.

Now that he's free to stay and not worry about the ferry schedule, he lifts both brows and stares at Chris. "So, what are we doing next?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Christopher says. "I just meant, that's a thing, that's available. If you need to head right back, that's fine too." He gets that other people here have people even if he doesn't. That stare gets a little laugh and he says, "You said you had another movie in you. We could put on something else." He reaches for the remote to pull up the menu again, to look at what other options they can stream. "Was there a Home Alone 3?" he half-teases.

Elmo shakes his head and says, "I'm easy. Nothing's a rush." Nothing at all, ever. "I don't want to watch another Home Alone," he says, making a face. "Let's watch The Others."

He downs a bit more water and settles back against the couch, then extends his bottle toward Chris. "Merry Christmas, dude."