lucetilogs | so pile your boots up in the corner -- hang your jacket from the door

Who: anyone invited to house seven's thanksgivingstravaganza -- as well as anyone walking by who might be curious about all the brouhaha.
What: giving thanks!
When: forward dated to november 24th due to predicted holiday hiatuses!
Where: house seven!
Summary: friends, food, fondness. family. festivities.
Rating: g for goin' up.

House Seven was decked out in soft oranges and browns. Gentle reds and yellows. The table was shoved up against a wall and dish upon dish of delicious Thanksgiving dinner-bits adorned it. Plates to one side, a pile of cutlery. Feel free to line up and pile your arms high with roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, carrots and green beans, cranberry sauce, sinful gravy. Stuffing. Steamed broccoli. The amount of food would almost be laughable had the guest list not been so long. Chatter abounded.

It was, by all accounts, a fairly casual gathering. No ceremony (Buffy, by this point, was all ceremony'd out after some fiercely dedicated meal-prepping) to stand on and no customs to keep. Just food and friendship. The only thing customary about Buffy Summers would be her delighted, enchanted grin throughout the evening. Very little pleased her more than a social event that was going well.

Mix! Mingle! Make merry!

(ooc; threadjack into oblivion and don't forget to add your character to the entry tags! have fun! note that this is forward-dated. i'll be tagging around myself later this evening. )

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"I'd love to. There are so many dishes spread about that I hardly know where to start."

"Well? Here. Let me make up a plate for you with my favourites."

Buffy grabbed a plate and began crafting an excellent spread. Choice turkey slices with stuffing and two little hills of mashed potatoes. A chunk of sweet potato casserole and a little buffer of vegetables. She drizzled gravy over a fair portion before holding the plate out to Raine.

Raine watches and nods appreciatively toward Buffy's handling of the plate. It does seem an occasion to eat heartily -- and keeping that in mind, she hadn't eaten very much since breakfast. The sights and smells of the platters are certainly inviting, and she'll take the plate with ease once it's handed over.

"You seem quite experienced with your handling. I can't wait to try it."

"Twenty-five years of Thanksgivings'll do that to you."

"Do you have a most memorable one?" She half glances for a place she can settle in with her plate.

"Hmm. Recently? I did have this kinda...weird Thanksgiving."

"Oh...? What happened?"

She takes a seat, debating where to start in first. The stuffing looks interesting; she's never had that before.

"...Bear attack."

She slid into a seat nearby.

"... A bear?"

That just sounded absurd. But she'll dig into her plate to begin, nodding for Buffy to continue.

"W-well...he didn't start off as a bear."

"He didn't?" Curiosity tinges her voice.

"Nope. Started out as a pretty restless and pretty angry spirit."

"That's quite a progression. How did you resolve it?"

"I figured out the catch. The spirit's own knife could hurt him -- so it was just a case of getting the knife and stabbing the spirit."

Not her proudest moment, to be honest. This story is accompanied by a shallow shrug.

"... Have you ever had any peaceful occasions?"

It's a serious question. It seemed like every holiday or important event had a twist, with Buffy Summers.

Stammering: "S-some Halloweens. Easter's okay. Christmas has usually been alright. It's...it's not the holidays so much as the fact that evil very rarely takes a vacation."

"... well. I'm glad you've been able to have some peaceful times, yourself." Even if it meant that the evil was rampant in another location.

A sly sideways glance. "I'm a little worried that peace makes me twitchy." Not true -- she loved it. She reveled in it. Even as she hovered and panicked over every last detail of this get-together, she thrived on panicking over something that wasn't life or death. This was a sort of freedom.

"It's the calm breath before a storm." She smiles wryly, trying more of the food that's slowly disappearing from her plate at intervals.

"A temporary port in a hurricane," she agreed.

A nod, but she'll remain quiet for the next moment or so she can at least sample everything on her plate and not be improper. "I can see why these are favorites. There's such a warm, comforting quality to them."

She nibbled on the side of her thumb. Thoughtful. "Y-yeah. It's cozy. Home-cooking at Thanksgiving has a kinda mojo. A mojo of the heart."

"I can't imagine how long it must have taken to get this all ready like this." The initial preparations, making sure there was enough ingredients, all coming together for the right moment.

"...How does the saying go? Lots a hands make the work easier? Whatever. Something like that."

"You and all your hands did well."

And she focuses on that plate a little again. Have to get the best of it while warm, after all.

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