[OPEN, Mingle] Yamsgiving

[lasthumanvoice]

Who: Cecil and EVERYONE
What: Another Harvest Celebration
When: Beginning of Pumpkinfest
Where: Center of town
Warning(s): Discussion of the Gala and its attendant CWs may come up

1. Yes, we're happy as fish [Food Prep, Oak and Iron kitchen]
Cecil's made a point of seeking out the best known chefs in town to help him put everything together for this meal. While sweet potato dishes are the star, at least one available with every course, he's hoping to hit a broad variety so everyone can find something they like. He, of course, is peeling and chopping his eternal sweet potato to make sure there's enough to go around.

(Of course you don't need to worry about him with a knife! He's fine! Don't you know he was once a boy scout?)

If someone needs an extra hand for their dishes, though, he's happy to lend one. There's an attitude of camaraderie and cheer in the room, with Cecil even breaking out singing at one or two points in the evening.


2. And gorgeous as geese [The Meal; Festival Green]
Everyone's invited to the feast. That is, in fact, the whole point. Cecil's always been pointedly neutral in the town's tensions, working as the most unbiased media monkey he can. He's the Voice of Pumpkin Hollow, and that means not taking sides between Dahlia and Neil and the Temple and whoever else. But after the gala, he's made a choice to act, to try to foster goodwill and warm feelings. This isn't the stone stew he offered during January's famine, this is a Redwall-style feast.

So, between glasses of mead from Kasprak Farm and dandelion wine, everyone is invited to fill their plate with candied yams and zucchini bread, roast chicken and venison donated by one of the Enforcers. There's a homemade cranberry sauce with citrus wedges and dandelion-leaf salad with an apple cider vinaigrette and toasted acorns for garnish. There's pasta with a homemade pesto sauce and cheese. Desserts, too, are plentiful, some even flavored with...chocolate. But many are not, and feature sweet potatoes. Muffins, pies, etc.

Find a table with a friend or a stranger, and indulge. This is a warm-fuzzy type thing--feel free to use it as a mingle.


3. And wonderfully clean in the morning [Cleanup; Also Festival Green]
Cecil is, quite honestly, expecting to be the only person to stay and clean up. He's been up since about five in the morning and he's dragging a bit at this point. Oh, he did take the time to eat, so he's not starving, but like. He could use help putting the Green back to rights.


4. We've got everything, we're growing everything [Cecil Wildcards]
[You know how to find me to plot.]

Comments

2 & 3, OTA

[pineapplesalmon]

César and Magne have been practicing their fusion dishes, and thus bring a couple of the simpler ones to the meal. There's already enough food, but they wanted to contribute. The last time they went to something like this, they were cooking around each other rather than together. Makes one wonder when they're going to finally announce they're getting married.

2A. The Meal, Age
"I'll never grow tired of get togethers like this. I've been going since..." César comments, then pauses and gives off a little 'oof'. "... before my brother was born, actually. And he's sixteen."

2B. The Meal, Holidays
"I've been meaning to ask... do you know what they do around here for Halloween and Christmas?" César asks over a cup of mead. "I'm guessing they don't do the Trick-or-Treat thing like they do in America."

3. Cleaning
César doesn't even ask, he just starts gathering plates when he sees there's not enough people to get this done anytime soon. Not too high to risk them falling. But there's something about the quiet after a party that he can't help but cherish a little.

Sometimes, you just need moments of the mundane.

2A

[spaghettification]

Siebren absolutely has plowed through a few of those corn fritters already.

"You're never too old for this sort of thing, I assure you."

[pineapplesalmon]

Excellent.

César laughs and turns to smile at Siebren. "I know—it's just strange to go from a child role to an adult role."

[spaghettification]

"Strange? It's almost the most natural thing in the world. Everyone undergoes that transition at some point. Strange is when you lose adult status, and start getting treated like a child again, once you're old enough."

[pineapplesalmon]

"Mm, I guess it's more the way the transition happened. This place has been a smoother tail end to it." César's offers a topic but doesn't commit to mentioning his history unless Siebren is interested. "... have people been bothering you like that here? Wait, no. Treating is the right word."

[spaghettification]

"No, not so much. But here, most days at least, I know where my head is." There's an implication in there, buried deep, that at times he might have deserve a little of that treatment, when he was in the thick of it.

[pineapplesalmon]

César's seen a couple of those days, but he's not judged Siebren for it. The man always returns to himself eventually, given support.

"Good. Because I was going to send Magne after anyone that treated you badly." Because that would make everyone fell better. "It's stress relief for her to remind others to be good neighbors."

[spaghettification]

"It's a shame she didn't see my 'guest' at the visitor center, then. John beat her up, and a few others talked to her."

[pineapplesalmon]

César's eyebrows go up, a faint trace of worry finally showing on his face "... it is a shame. Sounds like someone Magne would've loved to introduce her fists to." A pause.
"Something you want to talk about or...?"

[spaghettification]

"The sort of scientist who only ever called me Subject Sigma." He knows that using the title of 'scientist' for Moira will make the point on a level Doctor Salazar will grasp intimately.

[pineapplesalmon]

César's expression hardens immediately, having expected something along those lines. "I've worked with the type. It's unfortunate I didn't get a chance to make my opinion known."

[spaghettification]

"...worked with them?" There's an instant fear in Siebren's eyes.

A few plates on the table rise about four inches in the air, bobbing slightly.

[pineapplesalmon]

César blinks, processes the fear and sees those plates just out of the corner of his eye, and gently but barely touches Siebren's upper arm, his expression softening. "... I feared what would happen in my absence, so I instead worked under them to prevent it and undermine the rest of their plans. Secret agent stuff, just... without any backup until nearly the end."

[spaghettification]

Siebren jolts physically when touched, but is able to hold back Blanche's powers this time as they rear up within him, like heartburn. The plates clatter to the table, loudly, but no one suffers further consequences except Siebren, eating the backlash.

[pineapplesalmon]

César doesn't jerk his hand away, half-expecting a sort of startle, and drops it back to his side instead. His brows furrow in deep worry.

"... Siebren?"

Try not to panic, try not to panic....

[spaghettification]

"...one moment." His eyes are screwed shut, and he is clinging to the table, trying to get a stable sense of horizontal, while his internal horizon is turning like the attitude indicator in a plane spiraling to Earth.

(Being a folding table on grass, the stability it can offer is limited.)

[pineapplesalmon]

César stays close yet still a couple of steps away, waiting through his worry, as his own fear settles. "Okay. I'll stay with you."

No judgment, just patience.

[spaghettification]

Deep breath. Deep breath.

Deep breath.

"Right. I'll be okay, just give me a few minutes before asking me to walk anywhere."

He opens his eyes again. He's a little pale, but seems settled now.

[pineapplesalmon]

"Chair?"

[spaghettification]

"Yes. Or ground, if there's a spot nearby that won't disturb the whole celebration." The hippies and witches who talk about grounding are more right than they know, especially for the purposes of one who fucks with gravity.

[pineapplesalmon]

"Chair's easier, twenty seconds." César leaves and quickly grabs two chairs, carrying them both back.

He sets a chair audibly next to Siebren, facing the seat towards him, still holding his own. "Here."

3

[lasthumanvoice]

Cecil gives Cesar a grin.

"You know you don't have to do that. Right?"

[pineapplesalmon]

"I know you can't stop me." César replies innocently, setting down his current stack of plates. "Many hands make light work. This is a part of being a community, too."

[lasthumanvoice]

"And here I thought electricity made lights work!" Cecil laughs brightly at his own word play. "Alright, thank you. If you have a moment to fold the tablecloths, I need to return those to the Meridells. Probably Venka--I don't think her mother likes me much."

[pineapplesalmon]

César lets out a very impolite and loud snort of laughter at that pun, because that's exactly his sense of humor, and he bursts into laughter.

It takes him a good ten seconds or so to actually form words around that laughter, as he can't quite get rid of it immediately. "Any particular way they need to be folded, besides neatly?"