The Rec Hall was quiet, as was the rest of the Sanctuary. It was dead, seemingly unoccupied. God knew what homeless mutants did on Christmas. Went and saw the sights? Went to Christmas parties? Not Alma. The dark-haired beauty was having a night to herself-- it was her and a box of pizza, and whatever un-Christmas-y program she could find on the television downstairs in the Recreational Area.

It was dead, for which the dark-haired woman was pleased. She was about as casually dressed as she got-- raggedy jeans, comfy slide-on shoes, and a loose t-shirt. Her hair was unstyled and tied into a bun, and a heavy, white knitted blanket was draped about her like a shawl. Yes, Alma's attire proudly declared that she had no intention of going anywhere. In her hands, she carried her offerings-- a medium, gourmet vegetable pizza, and a small box

The woman slid the pizza box onto the coffee table situated in front of a couch, and she flicked on the t.v. with the remote that had been left on the table. A chipper, cheesy Christmas show lunged onto the screen in the middle of a musical number-- it was all full of girls in skimpy Mrs. Claus costumes with knee-high leather black boots, all glittering and gleaming like the angel atop a Christmas tree and singing loudly. Alma complained loudly in Spanish, and changed the channel. It was a show about lions.

The young lady hummed in satisfaction and flopped unceremoniously onto the couch, setting her legs up on the coffee table, and crossing one over the other. She then picked up the remote, and began to skim the channels at a casual pace. This was the life. She paused on a channel that was wholly dedicated to weather, leaned forward and stuck the small gift box on the floor, spun the pizza box so that it opened up towards her, and resumed the channel surfing.

Aurion had not been company or been someone you wanted to be around during the Christmas season. Memories from years past always made their way to the forefront of his mind. Those memories were quite unpleasant and tended to taint his view of the season. Not to mention that during the 'Season of Giving' humans always seemed to become more greedy, coveting everything they laid their eyes on. It seemed to be the rare human that gave a crap about another. And for whatever reason, their reactions towards him always seemed to become worse, or so it seemed to his younger self, than at other times. He later came to realize that while it did get worse, it wasn't by very much, his childish mind had had preconceptions that people were suppose to be nicer around Christmas. That hadn't lasted very long and it just made him more bitter towards it.

So Aurion would be out walking the streets, looking for humans to tear to pieces, looking for ways he could cause havoc in the streets. He would, if certain things hadn't happened, if it wouldn't possibly make things worse for mutants. Normally he didn't worry about that too much, but he had been spoken to specifically about actions like those and to avoid them. That there would be time for that later, to wait.

Since his normal December activities were on hold he wasn't sure what to do. Though his room had become more 'homey' over the past weeks, he felt restless. He could not sit in there there the whole time. Aurion felt he had done well staying in and not causing a scene the last few days. Insanity was lurking just around the bookshelf, he was sure he could feel it creeping up on him, making his scales tingle.

Briefly he thought about dropping by Chrys' place to fill some time, but he wasn't sure if that would be okay. Wasn't even sure if she'd be okay with that. 'What was that again..? I know it...right on the...Ah right, a 'Booty Call'.' The lizard man wasn't sure if that was the correct term, but it seemed right. Did he want that to be the only thing between them? Would she be opposed to it? Was he?

Groaning, "Gah! Fuck it!" The words burst from him as he left his room, slamming the door behind him, only barely managing to tail clear before the heavy steel door clanged shut.

Aurion headed towards the 'Adult Only' section of the Sanctuary's beverages. Why? Because he thought that maybe drinking would help. With claws around the case's handle he was about to pick it up and leave when a thought struck him. More like a memory. More specifically the recollection that he couldn't really remember much about Celeste's party. It hadn't occurred to him until then, but the only thing that he had had then, that he hadn't had before was the alcohol. He hadn't known that's what he was drinking, at first. That clarity had him putting the case down.

He did end up snatching a gallon of spring water before he started tromping through Sanc's halls.

Aurion wasn't paying a lot of attention as he strolled along, taking a swig every so often. He was surprised that it was quiet, at least it seemed to be quiet for a normal day in Sanc. As he neared the Rec room, he heard the low buzzing of a tv. He almost stopped and turned around just then, sure that it was some sort of Christmas something-or-other. When he stopped his forward movement to turn around, he caught something about the temperature and precipitation. "Eh?"

His curiosity up, he moved into the room slowly. Looking around he spotted the tv in use and moved closer to it. When he stopped he was looking at the screen, but he was not outside Alma's field of vision, if she cared to look up and around, she'd easily spot him. After a few moments he looked from the tv to the woman. "So much better than the other crap. I approve." As far as he knew, she might have been watching it to know about the weather for Christmas stuff, which would not be approved of.

Alma had leaned back into the chair, folding her arms and arching her eyebrows at the television, when a voice spoke-up behind her. It was a familiar, rumbling timbre that she couldn’t quite place. The young woman turned around and spied the immense, reptilian form of Aurion. The corner of her lip curled in recognition.

“Aurion,” Alma greeted lightly, gesturing for him to come over, “Come learn about the meteorology of the United States with me. I have pizza.”

Alma watched the show as the weather-man guided the viewer through the forecast of tomorrow and through the next week, nationally. As the digital map swung towards Oklahoma, the meteorologist called the viewer’s attention to the shifting shades of orange and red, and chipperly announced—

“It looks like it’s going to be a white Christmas!”

Alma imitated the sound of a buzzer, and changed the channel. Christmas special *click* another Christmas special *click* Christmas special *click again*-- ah, respite. This time, it was a political channel. It showed a room in which politicians assembled, which was currently unoccupied. Probably due to the holiday, but so long as they didn't mention the C-word, this channel would suffice until they found something decent.

“I’ll look for something better in a while,” Alma assured the reptile man, gesturing to him again, “Come, sit—how are you?”

Aurion couldn't help looking around the area when she noticed him. Their first meeting hadn't been too long in the past and he had been pelted by kitchen stuff. But this time he didn't see any of her ghostly followers, though it was possible they were there and he just couldn't see them. "Hey." He said in way of greeting, not sure what to do. Honestly, Aurion hadn't thought of spending time with anyone during this most annoying time

So moving closer he looked down, "Pizza huh?" He shrugged. "What kind?" It wouldn't matter to him, it never did. That did make him quite the unpicky eater, or garbage disposal, or whatever. He would eat just about anything. Not having a sense of taste did come in handy from time to time.

Moving closer, he leaned against the back of the couch just to the side of her. "Why're you watchi-" And she made a buzzing sound before changing the channel, right after the weatherman said Christmas. She kept changing the channel, skipping by one to another, to yet another and another. Aurion didn't get it at first, but as the channels went by it dawned on him. The one thing they all had in common was Christmas. With an audible 'heh' he smirked, "Not a fan of Christmas?"

Putting one hand on the top of the couch he hopped up and over. He was kind of in the middle, one leg extended to hang over the arm of the couch, the other flopped on the floor, his tail lay straight to the arm of the couch before it flipped over the back and hung there, his arm was still on the top of the couch while his other had the bottle of water. Yes, it looked awkward, and probably would be for humans, or even normal-mutants like Alma, but Aurion was quite comfortable.

Taking his arm from the top of the couch and, while holding the bottle firmly, but not hard, he dug his claws into the plastic top and popped it off. His liked this type of bottle because it had the sports type top, so he could open and shut it easily, after initially opening it. "I've been better. What about you?"

“Combination,” Alma explained placidly, “Vegetarian.”

It was also gourmet pizza, beyond which, which made it all-the-more better. Forget the fact that it was “unhealthy” by anyones’ standards (even Almas’). On a night like this, one needed to indulge. She settled on a soccer game, where the announcer was shouting in excited, fluent Spanish. Obviously a rerun of a past game. No one would have a soccer game on Christmas.

Aurion caught-on to the pattern, wryly inquiring as to Almas’ preferences on the season. Alma was about to utter an equally-wry retort, but just then, her reptilian friend awkwardly swung his leg over the couch and hopped to the same side as she. While he was in the middle, Alma was to one side—but it was impossible not to feel crowded next to the reptilian behemoth that Aurion was. It seemed to be the typical, “I’m going to take up as much room as possible” seating position the men often seemed to take, except… with a tail factoring into the equation.

Alma snorted back a laugh, but did not restrain the smile she quirked at the lizard mutant.

“Not at fan at all,” she confirmed, “But I also have no one to enjoy it with… probably makes me biased, ¿sí?”

The young woman leaned forward, and flipped the lid off the pizza box. She was going to shamelessly devour the whole thing on her own, but hey, company made pizza all the tastier. She got a piece for herself, and leaned back.

“Please,” she said to him, lifting the piece of pizza faintly before taking a bite. It was an open invitation. The dark haired woman sighed. This was fantastic pizza.

“I have been enjoying the quiet,” Alma murmured, “I do not get much. Ever.”

She looked over the back of the couch, past one of Aurions’ awkwardly draped arms. The stitchlings were at the far end of the room, scientifically investigating a foosball table. They were far enough away that Alma couldn’t hear them… it was about as much “rid” of them as she could get.

“They have been keeping themselves amused,” Alma said vaguely. Aurion would know who. He’d been attacked by them, so knew firsthand who they were.

The type of pizza really didn't matter, he didn't really care all the much. The more time he spent around people and saw what they ate and why, the more he realized not tasting food sucked. Everything he ate tasted like nothing. It was bland and blah. He had heard people say the food they had eaten tasted like cardboard, but he was sure they wouldn't complain anymore if they switched places with him for a month, hell even a week or a few days would probably be enough. He had asked because, why not? Small talk, he had been getting better at it.

Soccer, like most sports was not an interest of Aurion's. He only knew the basic goal of them. Though soccer did seem to be kind of hard compared to other sports, the players never rested. Well, close to never, and when they did it was for only brief periods.

"So, if you had someone to spend it with, it would make Christmas okay?" He asked tilting his head towards her. Not having a normal Christmas for something like 11 years, he had kind of gotten past and over the want to be with people, so much so he didn't really understand why that would make it better. "Personally I hate the music." That actually wasn't the real reason, or at least the whole thing.

When Alma offered him pizza he looked at it, "Maybe in a bit." He tried to smile while saying it. Pizza was one of those foods that required chewing, and that had all that extra stuff on it that could come off and get stuck somewhere in his throat.

Sitting up Aurion turned his head to look where Alma was and after a moment noticed a few of her followers. Remembering how many there had been in the past he was sure he wasn't seeing all of them. Turning back to her, "You can always hear them? Like even when you sleep?" Aurion was no stranger to falling asleep where there was noise or sleeping through it, but that noise had been external away from him, not something that followed him everywhere he went that he couldn't get away from.

Alma hummed at the inquiry, mulling the question over with another bite of pizza. Would company make the holidays any better? The game rolled into commercials, and she was assaulted by digital Christmas lights, and the Spanish rendition of a popular Christmas carol. So much for that idea—Alma picked up the remote control, and began to surf through channel again, “Let me know if something piques your interest…”

She swallowed her bite of pizza, and paused on another channel, “If all else fails, I’m getting a DVD.”

Finally, she paused long enough to answer his question. Would Christmas be more bearable with company?

“Of course,” Alma replied, “No one wants to be alone, when the season is about being together-“ that wasn’t a very Scrooge-y sentiment, but it was the truth, “I am just… no fan of the lights, the loudness, the… feeling in the air. The emphasis on buying the love of others with gifts...Sadly, I am not of a mentality that one finds favorable for the season.”

Alma took another bite of her pizza, flicking through a few more channels. Surely, somewhere, there had to be a channel without Christmas polluting it. Yet, even on the science channels, Christmas had managed to weed its way into the content of the shows. Alma made a sound of disgust and defeat. She had done a full circle on the channels, and was back to where she started. Damn.

“Usually, my dreams are louder,” Alma said offhandedly, “When I do not dream, I sleep deeply. It is a small fortune that I can ignore them in sleep. Otherwise, yes, I see them and hear them all the time. And they never venture far.”

By dreams, she meant nightmares—but as Aurion could provide no solution to the awful things, Alma saw no reason behind disclosing this tidbit of information to him. It was implied, however, that when she dreamt, she wasn’t sleeping well.

“A place like this must have a good collection of DVD’s,” Alma sighed in exasperation, finishing off her slice of pizza and wiping her hands together to brush off the crumbs. She looked to Aurion, a resident who had been there longer than she had, for input.

Aurion didn't watch much tv, possibly because if he did there was a good chance he'd break the remotes. It wasn't like the tv or vcr remotes that his grandparents had had, those things, as he remembered them, were big and thick, like mini clubs. These new ones were very small, which made them hard to hold in his large hand, thin, which meant they were flimsy and easily broken on accident, and the buttons were tiny, which made them frustrating to use.

So having an opinion of what to watch was unlikely. "I don't watch much tv. Using a remote is, well, not easy for me." Aurion lifted a shoulder in a shrug as he raised a hand and turned it palm up, then palm down again before letting it flop onto his leg.

Alma's answer both surprised him and didn't. She was a 'Normal' after all. "Why?" It was said fairly bluntly. "What about other people being around makes it better?" Granted he hadn't spent Christmas, or any holiday, with anyone in six years or more, and before that the holidays were a time of extra pain and torment at the hands of humans. Before it all Christmas was a fun time, he didn't care about family all he had wanted was presents. "It all seems fake to me. Fake happiness and cheer, fake love, fake friendship. Faking that their lives aren't crap. That they aren't bigots. And if it is all fake, why bother."

Aurion watched as she flipped through the channels, she didn't seem to linger long on anything. Not that there was much to watch. Just about everything was about Christmas somehow. The only way he could think to get away from it was to watch something that wasn't on tv. He was about to say as much when she spoke up.

"That's good, least you ain't gettin' woken up by'em all night long." Glancing back towards the ghosties, "How do you get to sleep though? Through all the chatter and noise? Don't suppose you can shut'em in the bathroom and keep'em there." He looked at her, "Can ya?"

Before Alma finished her comment about DVD's, Aurion already had his tail up and pointing in the direction of the cabinet that he had seen people go to for things like that. "Over there I think. Never looked myself." It was across the room built into the wall. "What sort you thinking of?"

Well, that made the decision much easier, if she didn’t need to take the opinion of someone else into consideration. Perhaps Aurion was a little more miserly than she was, for he questioned her philosophy.

“Misery loves company,” Alma retorted drolly, smirking at the reptilian man. Just because she didn’t like the holidays, didn’t mean that she didn’t want other holiday-hating people around. Aurion’s tirade continued about how the whole thing was fake—fake, fake, fake, fake. When he lumped friendship in there, she paused. She was in mid-reach for retrieving a second piece of pizza.

“Is this fake to you?” Alma countered, arching her eyebrows at him, “This friendship? This pizza? Because if either of these is fake… I will keep the fake pizza to myself.”

She chuckled, to show that she was partially kidding him. She went onto explain, “Just because I dislike the holidays, does not mean that I want to spend the time alone. People seem to flaunt their family time, however fake. It gets lonely.”

Alma chuckled at Aurion’s comment about not getting awaken by dreams, “Never said that.”

She strolled towards the cabinet that Aurion gestured towards, rifling through the connection. It was a pretty healthy collection spanning over numerous genres. What could they watch? Aurion was a guy, so that eliminated the usual suspects… horror might prove offensive to him… As she perused, she conversed.

“They ooze under doorways,” Alma explained, “So I can’t shut them out… they usually slow down as I do, though. Get quiet when I do… I’m pretty sure they’re in-tuned to me.”

Her eyes found a familiar title, and a few moments later, her hands did. Aurion might like this, might not. It was a good movie, nonetheless.

“Ever heard of The Breakfast Club?” she inquired, “Because if you haven’t… I am making you watch it. Great movie”

'Misery loves company.' He had heard that before, somewhere, but he never really understood what it meant. When he was feeling down he either wanted to be alone or to break something, preferably a human. Looking at her, he wondered. Maybe that's what it meant, when you're miserable you want other miserable people around you, or maybe to make others miserable?

Leaning forward Aurion tapped the pizza box. "Seems real to me." He smirked at her, "You can keep the pizza to yourself if you want, it is yours after all. I know I'm not faking anything, I don't bother faking anything. What about you? You faking?" Settling back on the couch. "You know what I mean though. Just watch'em, out there." He flicked his head in the direction of the street outside. "They do it with people they barely remember, or have only met a once or twice. You can see how fake it is, but they do it. Worst during holidays."

Aurion had a sudden thought, Alma had probably never spent too much time away from her family, especially holidays. He had been rid of that for years, had gotten rid of it with his own claws and teeth Until he had come to Sanctuary, he had been alone for years. "It's not all that bad in the long run." He tried to assure her.

Sometimes he was not sure what people meant by a comment and Alma's 'Never said that.' was one such comment. All he could do is give her a slightly unsure look as she got up to look for something to watch. And he couldn't help but watch her as she walked away. Part of it was simply him paying attention to the person he was talking to. Another part though was appreciating and realizing why Miles had been all goo-goo eyed at her. He looked away, only a little reluctantly, he did so mostly because it was rude, but also because he didn't feel like getting caught. If he did get caught. He didn't exactly have the same facial expressions as normals, so would she even notice?

Where did he look after looking away from Alma? To her ghosties. "Like they actually scrunch down...they're like cockroaches." He muttered the last half of the sentence. "Eww." He was about to say something else when she found a movie.

"I don't think so. Please tell me it's not about people in a club of breakfast eaters. Cuz that would be really silly." Turning his head he watched as she came back. "Guess were watching it then."