One Little Turkey Better Run Away

[littlest_lord]

Who: Phancyhive and those who were invited to attend!
When: Backdated to October 10th.
Where: Phancyhive Manor
Summary: It's Thanksgiving and Ciel is determined to have a proper, Thanksgiving feast. Mostly because of pies.
Warnings: Uh...the usual that comes with this group of weirdos. 

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BEFORE THE FEAST

[littlest_lord]

[There were preparations and final touches to be done in the kitchen before guests arrived and the feast began. So much to do in so little time! Everything needs to be perfect, after all.]

[quadrifoliate]

[ Technically she's not supposed to be working, not really, but Clover likes sniffing around the kitchens and exploring the manor when she can, so here she is, sliding things onto plates and humming to herself all the way. She doesn't have decent skirts so she's wearing her maid's skirt for the occasion, just with a different top and without an apron. ]

[littlest_lord]

[Hello Clover. It's your tiny boss coming up to say hi. Don't mind him that he's sneaking a slice of pie before dinner ok. He's precious and small and dressed up like a little Victorian doll.]

Hello Clover. How are you fairing?

[quadrifoliate]

[ Pie, huh? Better watch the diet, Ciel, or the seams on your precious little clothes might burst. ]

Hey, Ciel. [ When she's on-duty, it's strictly "Master" or "Earl Phantomhive"; now that she isn't on the clock, she figures she can be as casual as she likes. ] Starting on the dessert already? [ She's kidding. Mostly. ]

DINNER TIME

[littlest_lord]

[It was time for dinner. With so much delicious, exquisite food and dessert, there's certainly no way that anyone will be leaving the manor hungry.

Ciel's eyes are on the pies though. Better grab a slice before they're all gone.]

[dontdrinkthe]

[The mansion reminds him of the government buildings, in some ways. The extravagant size, the bent to impress and to intimidate. In some ways, the house is friendlier than some of those long white halls, the closed off rooms without windows. In other ways, it is much more intimidating. Artie is rather aware he is painfully under-dressed, and even more than that... He isn't used to large groups of people, to parties. Who invited the mute child to a party? Who made small talk with a god?

He doesn't really know what to do with himself, but rather than allow his nerves and anxiety to show... he retreats into impassivity. Silent and disinterested. He eats, but not much, when there is food in front of him. It's something to do, at least.]

[littlest_lord]

[It's his duty to greet everyone he's invited of course, which also includes Artemis. Thus, he says comes to say hi after he's had his fill of pie.]

I see you managed to arrive. How are you fairing, Artemis?

[dontdrinkthe]

[Oh, it's the boss. Artie looks up at him dolefully.]

I'm doing well, thank you. It's... a nice party.

[That was polite, right?]

MINGLING

[littlest_lord]

[Not everything can be about eating however, so enjoy some downtime to relax in the sitting room with a cup of tea or simply make small talk with one of your peers.]

[hellisthatnoise]

[Well, he really should try to be more sociable - he only knows a bare handful of people here, after all.

So here will be a nervous amnesiac, quietly sipping away some tea.]

[typhlopid]

Good evening. [The man who stops in front of him is tall, elegant, finely boned. He is carrying a cup of tea. His eyes - long-lashed - are closed.] I beg your pardon - until just this moment I thought your seat was empty.

[hellisthatnoise]

Oh!

Well, if you need it, I can find someplace else--