Adventure Forward Content

It's too early for that, Compale.

Contents - Voices, Arson and the Christmas Spirit

Based on my desire to ignore Christmas until Halloween is gone. Written at 1am.
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The sun rises over the starless lands of Everi. Waking it's people with warm rays of sunshine to greet them with another day.

Ixol, still half asleep, audibly yawns as he floats upwards. The voices bid the glitchy point 'good morning' with varying levels of enthusiasm and energy, having just woken up themselves.

Slurring his words, Ixol greets back as he sinks to his feet. Shaking his head and beginning to walk around. Another day being in the paradise with no-one but his friends. It would've been as lovely as ever to him, no one being there to stop him from doing what he wants. But today felt different for some reason, Ixol craved interactions.

So Ixol left the paradise. Out he went, looking for a busy point to bother. Maybe Ulipse would be fun to mess with, convincing them to burn something with him. Or perhaps going up to Cyalm and poking fun at his tea parties again. The voices offered pranks and plans for him to do as Ixol went past the Dragon's gates. It seems like today was a busy day for him!

But Ixol's scheming was cut short when he reached the door in Ulipse's area leading to Compale's. Beyond the closed off wall, they could hear music playing. Was the musical point holding another loud concert Ixol could crash?

The voices almost began to plot again when Ixol entered the room and quickly it became clear who's music was playing.

Christmas lights and large cotton socks were hung around the portal to Frosted Snowland. Gathered around the fence corners were presents of many shapes and sizes, some gifts more obvious than the others. Jingle Bells was playing from within the portal itself, clearly from Compale's eager display of his Christmas spirit.

The voices sat quietly in Ixol's head as all of them looked around the blue room. Wonderful were the decorations, yes. But it's greatly important to know that it's September. His excitement was three months ahead.

Soon a chorus began in the distorted point's mind. A chorus of obvious plans for the morning, plotted by both the voices and his own free will. Ixol was burning the blue room to the ground.