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

[slaying]

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.

Comments

[lists_to_port]

Jack Sparrow is proud indeed to see that turkey in its final glory. The hunting of it had been an ordeal, to say the least, and now he is very happy with a cup of spiced wine, trying to stay out of the way of busy hostess-types and enemies alike while simultaneously making as much merry as possible.

Cranberry sauce is a new thing for Jack: just the right mix of tart and sweet and orange peel and mmmmm. He might be hoarding it, just a bit. Make sure you say please if you want it passed.

[slaying]

One busy hostess-type was fussing over heaped plates and gradually making them...heapier. As she worked her way down the table, she elbow-nudged the pirate and dropped into a whisper as she leaned past him to fetch an empty butter dish.

"Do we need to have another talk about sharing?"

[lists_to_port]

"About how it's caring and all that?" he whispered back, taking a moment to enjoy that rather interesting lean while placing a protective hand over the dish of cranberry sauce. "Dunno. Do we?"

[slaying]

"It's caring. And what goes around comes around. And I've got a whole dish of the stuff in the fridge and if you'd be so very kind as to not hog that sauce, I'll be sure you'll never ever want for cranberry sauce for the rest of your life. Or at least until next Tuesday."

[pugilistinpink]

Geez - the spread was even more incredible and mouthwatering than he had envisioned. He almost felt a tinge guilty while piling such wonderful things onto his plate, as if he were sneaking into some lavish cocktail party and swiping a few shrimp before making his way out, back to where he belonged; but then again, he remembered Buffy extending a casual invite in her recording, so it seemed it didn’t quite matter that he wasn’t a very close friend indulging in this meticulously prepared feast.

Finding a place at the table where there was room, the Bronxite set down his plate and unzipped his hoodie, hanging it up on the back of his chair. He let out a light sigh as he sank into his seat, looking about the place and at his company, this curious mix of men and women, strangers and new friends. There was an empty chair... it was where Doc maybe would have sat, had he been here.

Hey Mac baby, better watch what you eat or y'won't be Little Mac no more, hahaha!Mac could almost hear the man's laughter floating in the air... and then

[slaying]

Later -- perhaps at the mingling stage of the evening -- Buffy caught Mac's attention and bee-lined for the boxer.

"So? What do you think? Cuts the mustard?"

[pugilistinpink]

Between forkfuls of stuffing, he glanced upwards questioningly at the sound of her voice, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm as he met her gaze.

"Oh yeah... it's awesome!" Probably best for him to swallow that mouthful first - there we go. "It's almost like what ma used t'make."

[slaying]

"...Gee. High compliments. That or your mom really wasn't that good of a cook." Self-deprecating. She smiled.

[consultmybooks]

[Well, this was...all sorts of odd

[slaying]

You have to try the gravy.

[ the slayer arrives in a rush of hostess pomp and circumstance, drying her hands on a stray tea towel. why was she drying them? who knows. perhaps some kitchen mishap.

either way, this is how she greets her ex-watcher. there are...things to be said, of course. things about his youngitude that will definitely end up said. but for now?

gravy. ]

[consultmybooks]

[Giles would rather things be said about his youngitude than say, Jack, although he's fairly certain he might have gotten away unnoticed from Hornblower or Kennedy. Until then?]

I didn't notice that there was any.

[slaying]

...Giles? It's Thanksgiving. No gravy would be a sin. A travesty. A crime. They'd lock me up for crimes against culture. I'd never see the light of day again and that would be a crying shame because I definitely look better with a tan.

[babymid_archie]

Kennedy is doing a pretty good job keeping his head above water, all things considered. A lot of people and noise will mean he's pretty quiet, and he's squinting at faces to see if he remembers anything more. When he has nothing else to do, he'll try keeping things stocked, having been drafted to help cook in the first place. His gaze will stray most to people who claim to be close friends, or those he has had memorable experiences with as a lieutenant. Vague snatches of memory have been popping up, out of context, and he's waiting to see if more comes back to him.

[slaying]

And here came Buffy Summers, delivering a small tumbler of something warm and spiced and vaguely alcoholic into his hands. It was better not to ask what it was; she herself might not even know.

"How are you holding up, Mister Kennedy." The name was given in full jest. She wanted to treat him with levity as he looked so...almost lost in her living room full of people.

[babymid_archie]

A reluctant smile. "Remembering snatches of things, now. Nothing very significant."

[slaying]

"Nothing significant? Damn. Then you must not have recalled how awesome I am, yet."

A half-smirk.

[shadedsunlight]

It was a nice knowing there were others in the village who could throw a big Thanksgiving dinner. The New Feather party had been a success and Ginia was just getting over her turkey coma, but delicious food and invitations were not things to be passed on, even if said invitations had come a little late.

Truthfully, Ginia felt a tiny bit of trepidation. Herself had a child had been a mouth, curious little thing as kids were prone to being. As an adult, most of her conversations with Buffy really weren't that much better, and now that she was dating the ex-watcher and their last conversation had been... well. However, she did want to make things right between them somehow-possibly-down-the-long-road and turning down such a nice invitation would have been rude. Besides, she had a hunch Giles needed some company.

So Ginia arrives, a bit late and into the party, but she shows up, and settles into seeing who else is here, and admiring and enjoying the food. All the cooking? A-plus job.

[slaying]

And Buffy would be doing her level best to be gracious. It was an easy thing to be when the atmosphere of a whole social event was on the line. Buffy was replacing a pitcher of water on the table-o-food when she caught sight of Ginia.

"O-oh! You made it. I was beginning to wonder if you weren't even coming."

[shadedsunlight]

Ginia is in the process of getting a plateful of food when she hears Buffy. Turning, she offers a friendly smile and finds a safe, empty spot on the table to set her plate down at. She feels self-conscious as she grabs her notepad and pen and writes out a message.

I'm terribly sorry for being late. Some last-minute things came up. But better late than never?

Thank you for inviting. It all looks great.

[slaying]

"I think they call that kinda late as being fashionably late. Don't worry about it."

A wave of her hand. Breezy.