eachdraidh | ✈ fifth snowy flight ❄

[The locket seems to be set up on a counter in a bedroom in the Station. To the side of the screen, there appears to be a small miniature ice sculpture of a pine tree, sparkling from the glow of the fireplace in the far background. Jack makes final adjustments in angling the locket just right to show off his crystal art project as well as his own smirking face.]

Alright, there's a whole ton of you out there that are either old and ancient or from some weird world that never got to know the cool Earth holidays, so lucky you — I'm here to provide you with a little Q&A on what Christmas is.

It doesn’t make any sense. It’s Father Christmas’s birthday but … not his birthday, too? Why is he giving out gifts for some other guy? [ OH, LOOK, one confused Viking is sitting on the bed. Hiccup gestures animatedly. ] Jack, your gods aren’t making any sense, even Loki’s more organised than this.

[The winter spirit rolls his eyes, waving a hand to hush the man behind him, keeping his attention on the locket instead of addressing him.]

The point is: you set up a ton of colorful lights around, you toss up a big tree to get sap all over your fingers, and then you find presents underneath it on the morning of the 25th. [That’s about the gist of it, right?] Look, I’m not big on bribing kids with gifts, but it does get people slacking off from all that serious crap so they can run outside and make a snowman or something. Gotta give it props for that.

So, basically, it’s Snoggletog without Thor. [ Flatly voiced from the peanut gallery. ] Boy, does that sound like a hoot.

No, no. [He finally turns his back to face Hiccup, shaking a pointed finger at him.] Don’t compare it to your aggressive “missing toes” Viking catastrophe of a holiday. [Turning back to the locket:] Just to be clear — mistletoe, that little plant that’s hung up everywhere on ceilings during the month, means you kiss the person you’re caught under it with — it’s not for punching them, as some people believe.

[ Wow, Hiccup’s just going to fold his arms right now. So rude. ]

I could always dredge up the will to punch you, if you’re getting tired of hanging out under mistletoe and suffering the other option.

[ No, he couldn’t. But he can say he might!! ]

Uh huh, sure. [With a momentary deadpan expression, Jack finally just shrugs with a sigh.] Anyway, I know the guy who hands out the presents, been in his secret lair in the North Pole and everything, so if you want to know more about elves — the small critter-like ones who don’t actually wrap the presents — or yetis, caroling and eggnog, whatever, I can fill in all the blanks for you.

[A pause before he adds:] Just do me a favor, be a pal, and run out to play in the snow for a bit, got it?

Excuse you, I am known for my incredibly artistic Snow Furies, Jack. Just because I don’t go prancing around yelling about how great winter is doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have fun.

First of all, I was talking to them, not you. Second, winter is great and I don’t think you understand how—

I’m Jack Frost, I can’t help kissing aaaall the snowflakes because I’m in love with them—

[The bickering continues for however long. Interruptions for questions would be more than welcome at this point.]

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[He groans as he throws his head back.] Is this going to be a thing with every single new person I speak to?

It'd help if ye didn't sound exactly like one of my best friends.

[She can't help grinning cheekily.]

I don't-- [Oh, why is he even bothering. Sometime later, when he's alone with his thoughts and more relaxed, he'll remember all about the occlusion effect, but for now he's just annoyed.] Look-- I can't control my voice either, alright.

[She laughs and raises her hands.]

I know, I know. It'd be like me blamin' everyone Scottish for getting me mixed up with someone else.

Ah, yeah, I was wondering about the accent... [Good to know at least he got that right.] Is it really possible to mix you up with someone else with all the... [Vague gesture of his hand.] ...hair going on?

[She's got a very thick brogue, she knows.]

Well it runs in th' family except for my mam. Dad's side. We're th' only ones in th' clan with hair like this.

I meant more around here. Unless your dad was kidnapped too and I'm about to get jumped on buy a red-head version of Sean Connery.

Se...who? [She raises an eyebrow, then shakes her head. Much to her disappointment] Nay, dad's not here. I'm th' only one from my world as far as I know.

Famous Scottish actor. And that tells me you're most likely from a different time, not world.

Aye. I'm from 1066, laddie.

Nine hundred forty-four years of difference, wow. [He's that good at mental math, yes.] Also I think I'm older than you?

[Who are you calling laddie?]

Sixteen. I'm a woman in my time. [How many times does she have to say that? She crosses her arms and huffs playfully.] Merida, firstborn of Clan DunBroch, daughter of Fergus th' Bear King.

That's great and all, but I'm still older than you. [Oh great, more royalty. He offers a polite nod before introducing himself.] Princess. I'm David Stutler. From America, if you know where that is.

Just Merida's fine. [She waves her hand with a nod.] Aye, I've met another one from America here, though we don't know about it back in my time.

I'm just Dave then. [If the man that tried to kill him called him that, he doesn't see why not everyone else can use the nickname as well.] There are maps of our world if you need a better idea.

So I've heard. I'm not sure I want to see one...has Scotland changed much?

[He rubs the back of his head, unsure of how to answer that.] The whole world changed. A lot. The machines at the station are common in houses and apartments.

That's either convenient or a real hindrance.

It's really convenient, I promise.

Somehow I can't picture my dad usin' them, let alone half my clan.

Most old people used to complain about them, but now you can even text your grandmother.

✈ fifth snowy flight ❄ — video (both courts)

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