[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

[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."

[spaghettification]

Bless his fellow scientist, who understands the value of an accurate and precise countdown in seconds. Siebren sits, bracing elbows on his thighs. "Don't worry about me. Are you alright? No dizziness of your own?"

[pineapplesalmon]

He gets it.

César sets his chair down and sits a conversation's width in front. "I'm fine, no dizziness." A pause, because he can't help but worried. "... are you dizzy, and did something almost happen to me? Are the two related?"

[spaghettification]

"I stopped myself from lashing out, when you startled me." Siebren's voice is very, very quiet. "It snapped like a rubber band and hit me instead. It's been like this for days, since the gala."

[pineapplesalmon]

"I appreciate you taking one for me." César scoots his chair closer so they can keep this conversion quieter. "... those don't sound like gravity powers."

[spaghettification]

"They're not. At the gala, I fought one of Mendel's ranking servants. And..." He trails off with a gesture at the plates on the table. "...have since synthesized some of her powers, which present in ways I am not yet wholly in control of."

[pineapplesalmon]

That gives a firm starting point for questions to be answered. César has to open and close his mouth half a dozen times before he can say something that isn't solely nerdy, remembering emotions are important.

"And those powers don't require words or ingredients, just thoughts?"

[spaghettification]

Consider who he's talking to: analyzing everything would be amazing, were it actually possible.

"Correct. And since most of what I've done is unintentional, I haven't truly defined the parameters and limitations."

[pineapplesalmon]

This is very true.

"I've helped my brother with his training sessions. Perhaps I could do the same with you?" César offers. "I'd be happy to assist whatever you're comfortable with. I'm pretty good at estimating by sight."

Training sessions, not experiments. Assisting instead of ordering.

[spaghettification]

"Are you certain you want to volunteer yourself so freely? There were aspects of her power that relate to memories." He's already gotten some strong reactions to that fact.

[pineapplesalmon]

Blink. BlinkBlink.

César does hesitate at that. "... Temporary or permanent? Me forgetting certain things would strongly impact whether or not my Earth recovers. Which is more important than my feelings at losing memories."

[spaghettification]

"...I'm not certain those are a healthy order of priorities, Cesar." He says that quietly, even gently. "I would not touch anything that vital to you, but your feelings do matter. They must."

[pineapplesalmon]

César's expression softens, grateful, and it takes him a moment to form the words he wants to say. "I know they matter. Preventing apocalyptic scenarios are just a higher priority, because I couldn't live with myself anyways if I let them happen.

Then, he relents, and asks the question as himself. "... I would help if I could avoid permanently losing memories important to me. But I do have a lot of extra memories since I tend to remember most everything."

[spaghettification]

"I think that can be done. There also might be false memories inserted, but my intent is to remove them when done. We don't need to decide anything now, though."

[pineapplesalmon]

"Better to think this through." César nods and smiles slightly. "It might be something to ask Magne about. We should likely have a third person supervising. She'd not let anyone else keep eyes on me."

[spaghettification]

"You're right. A supervisor is a good idea." He nods. "And...you can still say no, of course. You don't have to do this."

[pineapplesalmon]

"I don't, but I also know I could likely take it in stride. And if it's too much, and I panic? My body will know Magne's. All she'll have to do is put her arms around me, and I'll know I'm safe. The body doesn't forget." César's smile is warm and full of love. "She makes an amazing weighted blanket."