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. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"...Only as a way to cope with the supremely non-domestic. At least freaking out over whether the pie's burnt or not is less vital to the world's survival than most things I've had to do in my life. It's a nice break -- once in a while."

Melaka nods. She doesn't understand that mentality, but the principle she does get That - and the cost of things - is why she still does grabs for the most part. But well... hm.

"Sounds fair. You did all of it?"

"Oh, God no. That'd be celebratory suicide. I had help. Lots of it. Room-mates, press-ganged labourers. Turkey hunters. This was a definitely collaborative effort."

Hunters, really? Buffy gets a very carious side-glance at that, but in the end Mel just shrugs and nods, stuffing a hand into her coat's pocket as she tries to slide- there. Now that's the ticket, closing in on the food now.

"Smells nice, anyway."

"And hopefully it tastes nice, too."

A nod. And she'll go to collect her some food. She doesn't know if Buffy will follow her, but once she's got some, she'll try to find the woman again so they can move on to the other matter she wanted to discuss.

Edited 2011-11-30 21:40 (UTC)

And when Melaka does find her again, she commented on the plate: "Oh. Good choices. I approve. Very A+."

"Followed you advice."

But she smiles. Good, glad to get her... approval? why does she like that? Oh well.

"Come on -- there's some spare seating space over by the tv." She nudged her elbow against Mel's -- lightly -- and then headed in that direction.

Roger that. Well them, she'll just follow this, obediently like and thus when they hit the spot to sit, she'll, well, sit.

"No need to -- God, what do the sailors call it? Stand on ceremony. Dig in."

Buffy snugged up against the arm of the couch.

"...What?"

Lingo, woman. Lingo.

"Eat! Unless -- oh, are you a say Grace kinda gal?"

"Who's Grace?"

And now... well, her first forkful. As with the other times she's tried new food, there is a lot of very purposeful chewing. In this instance of some stuffing.

"Grace isn't a person. It's a thing. A -- kind of a spiritual, religious thing. I'm guessing that's kinda gone to the wayside come your time...what with your lack of Holy Water."

What.

"You guys call a prayer 'Grace?'"

"...Only when it's before food. I mean -- grace isn't just a name. It's a thing. You know, being graceful? Having grace? You can also say grace."

"Never heard of it."

But whatever, another bite and then she looks briefly up at the ceiling before tapping the stud on her nose and looking back at Buffy.

"So, Summers. What's doing the rest of this month?"

"...Surviving. Eating leftovers for weeks. Hopefully dodging the next bound-to-be-humiliating Shift. Why? Got plans?"

"Yeah, actually. Shipping out."

"Wait. What?" A twinge of confusion. Just a twinge. "Out as in out. As in -- one of these new-fangled missions?"

"You got it."

A beat.

"I need to do something. A grab. Anything"

"Dangerous stuff," she said in a tone that in no way invited criticism of Melaka. The girl was a slayer; she'd survive. It was simply a comment that kickstarted Buffy's internal decision engine.

"Been doing dangerous things all my life."

And now she goes to take a bite of her food again]

"Being cozy best buds with danger doesn't make it any less...dangerous. Are they letting you go in armed?"

(no subject)

makeitquick - 2011-12-12 23:56 (UTC) - Expand

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makeitquick - 2011-12-14 01:25 (UTC) - Expand

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