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

Embellishments can make a story fun. I've always loved a good story.

"...Have him tell you the one about the cursed horseshoe from Leeds. That's my favourite."

It was entirely possible that Buffy was faking it in order to set Jack up for a story-related fall. What? She can be mischievous.

Edited 2011-11-22 03:09 (UTC)

I'll keep that in mind. Sounds interesting.

And so Ginia becomes an unwitting mark, but hey, if a story comes out of it even if it's pulled out of thin air? All the better.

"...Does Giles know that Jack tells you stories?"

I think he's aware, but I don't mention Jack all that much around Giles. Probably for the best.

"...Probably. Guess it's too much to hope that those animosities'd mellow out."

Ginia considers, frowns slightly, and gives a small shake of her head.

I'd say give it more time, but it seems there's been enough of that. At least it seems they can be civil with each other?

And Buffy suspected this civility came, in part, from Jack fearing retaliation from the Slayer should he be anything but civil.

"Impressive, for Jack. Par for the course for Giles. He's good at that whole stiff upper lip stuff."

The English Gentleman. Polite with a side of biting sarcasm.

"Pshaw. You ain't seen nothing yet -- not until you see one of our epic sarcasm-offs. I like to think I hold my own."

...She really, really did.

That sounds like a sight to see. Or a thing to hear.

"Give it time. I'm sure you'll end up witnessing something."

Can't wait. I'll keep popcorn on hand.

"You say popcorn and I can just about feel a button pop on my jeans. I think after tonight? I'm not gonna need to eat food for a week."

Lies. Slayer metabolism will have her craving steaks by the next morning.

Delicious, easy on the salt and butter popcorn. Though tell me about it. After Sunday's party and this? I think I'm good on food for the rest of the year.

And lacking Slayer metabolism, Ginia will still to lots and lots of running in the morning.

"...But soon it'll be Christmas. A whole other mostly similar feast."

My poor waistline. It'll never be the same again. But I'm looking forward to it. Christmas, that is.

"...Not the snow, though. I could do without the snow."

Never been much of a snow person myself either. Does it get really snowy in December?

Edited 2011-11-24 01:33 (UTC)

"Oh, yes. We've had blizzards. It's all very...well -- it's really not California weather by any stretch of the imagination. I hope you've got winter boots?"

Just like home. Though no, I still need to grab a pair. Afraid the kid-sized ones I have won't fit anymore.

She pauses and gives a small smile.

Thanks, by the way. For tolerating me while I was a kid.

Ah. Right. That inevitable chat.

Buffy waved a very dismissive hand. "Please. That wasn't tolerating. You were more than tolerable."

I was a nosy, chatty kid who asks too many questions. Still am, maybe. But I appreciate it, and I'm sorry Jack foisted babysitting duties onto you.

That was almost -- almost! -- a frown; Buffy caught herself and stuck to her polite smile.

"You underestimate my ability to sympathethize with nosy, chatty kids who ask too many questions. Go ahead and ask Giles about what I was like in high school and he'll probably use the same words."

There's a tiny second where Ginia wonders if she's said the wrong thing yet again, but her smile remains.

Maybe I will.

You're good with kids.

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herotypical - 2011-11-24 20:42 (UTC) - Expand

shadedsunlight - 2011-11-24 20:53 (UTC) - Expand

herotypical - 2011-11-25 11:52 (UTC) - Expand

shadedsunlight - 2011-11-28 17:43 (UTC) - Expand