[Hubb's room now contains a crib, sitting next to a double bed. Both are covered in a thick layer of dust. While the bed looks to have been well used before being abandoned, the crib, while now old, probably never was. The toy inside likewise look like they were never truly touched by a child. On a desk in the room sits a hand mirror, a brush, and ( Read more... )

[Hubb starts off in English, he repeats this in French, German, Arabic, and Linga Franca (Sounds Italian)]

Seems that people are having problems with the translators. All the more reason to sit quietly and not be annoying. No one understands you, so talking louder will not help.

[Hubb is half - what else? - sea lion, and appears to be stretched out irritably in the kitchen.]

Somehow, this is more pointless than events usually are. How exactly am I talking in all of this?

[He grumbles and goes back to trying to eat when his food can float away.]

[Hubb can be seen exiting his room. He slams the door shut behind him and wedges a chair under the door.]

Hubb? Hubb? Why are you leaving?

The mansion's going too damn far this time. [He turns his face away] I don't need a fake.

[There's screaming inside as the enraged doll begins furiously attacking the door at the fake comment].

[Hubb turns away and ( Read more... )

Hibari, how was your alien count?

I got 217.

[Hubb is in the observation deck, watching the planet below.]

Now, this is something I ain't seen before.

[His voice is almost hushed. Then he turns to watch the battle playing out against the black of space.]

And yet, it's basically the same.

[Hubb has examined his stocking. Last year, he got a picture of Jasmine. This time, it was a small battered case, holding a pocket knife. 'Brother' is carved on the handle, and 'Garth McCann' is scratched into the case cover.]

Merry Christmas Brother. [He says under his breath]

Presents:

Ritsuka: An antique camera and a wooden sled.
Hibari: Scorpion ( Read more... )

[There is a chaotic jumble of snow as the feed shows someone running. The sound of hoofbeats can be heard distantly, but coming closer.

A gun fires.

And then there are the steps to the mansion and the sound of a door slamming.]

Shit...

[A small child who looks like he's from the tail end of the 19th century is running through the snow playing.]

Hey, what's all this white stuff? Is this snow? I didn't know it could get so deep!

[He wraps his arms around himself.]

Brr. It's cold.

Oh, there's fuzzy deer over there! HEY DEER!!

[Hubb is sitting outside by the fields. He throws a ball and the golden retriever puppy by his feet tears after it; bringing it back, tail wagging furiously.

Hubb looks down at the young animal and throws the ball again.

This just continues while Hubb sits and drinks his lemonade.

Damn event.]