Collette (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whatsupcroc) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2012-11-21 11:15 pm
whatsupcroc) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-11-21 11:15 pm
(thanksgiving) a thank you for the memories we're about to make
Date & Time: Thursday, November 22nd, afternoon to evening. (Or earlier.)
Location: Apartment 403
Characters: Collette (Animorphs), Isaac Lahey (Teen Wolf), and anyone invited/who might have been invited/who has decided to gatecrash with a potluck offering.
Summary: Collette and Isaac are hosting a for friends Thanksgiving. Which might have gotten slightly larger than planned, and might not be comprised of people who all get along. But it'll be fine! Right? How much can go wrong over a pot-luck Thanksgiving dinner?
Warnings: Everything that can go wrong might very well go wrong.
Notes: Tag in prose or action, whatever suits, and use subject lines to your advantage! All is presumed opened unless specified otherwise. General time subsections have been included for before dinner, during dinner, and after dinner. Threads do not need to be under these subthreads! They're general guidelines people may choose to use.
Enjoy!
Collette had ordered a turkey and spiral-cut ham through one of the butcher shops close to the hold, arranging through them to get the meats that went to what she supposed would be caterers were she back in her own place and time. Here, she just knew them as the people who were going to make sure nothing happened to the turkey part of the meal.
She's pretty sure they're eating turkey and not some other sort of bird.
Either way, between the meat delivered at noon and the rolls she'd picked up that morning, Collette was certain there'd be enough of the basic necessities for even werewolves to feel full with the little something extras appearing under the broad umbrella of a potluck. She was doing her best not to spend too much time thinking about Lym, how she'd not been home the last few days, and how the network tag for her had gone dead.
It's a small, cold comfort, but Collette wants to believe that means Lym is home and arranging for her slow reclaiming of the kingdom away from her jerk of a fiancee with the help of her older brother. She can be thankful for that chance, if not in losing a friend. (Almost like a younger sister, as far as her affections had gone. A very strangely, but well dressed younger sister.)
She reminded herself to talk to Isaac to see if he had a preference for what they did with Lym's stuff. Collette didn't want it to wait around and then be carted off by the Initiative, like Roslyn had waited with Loki's things. That felt... cold and impersonal. But some of the boxing wasn't practical for her to do on her own.
But all of that was for some later time. Right now, she had good things to look forward to -- possibly even frightening ones, with Franziska and Miles' broadcast earlier that day -- and genuine excitement to repress that minor guilt and sadness in losing another friend. She's not lost. She's back where she belongs, so she's really not lost at all.
"Happy Thanksgiving," she informed the room, eying the unlit candles in her impromptu centerpiece. The various fruits and squashes she'd arranged coming out of the basket she liked to use for light shopping was pretty innovative, in her mind. "Didn't think I'd be seeing this holiday again."
Twice as thankful, and both happy and guilty, that she has. "Do we even have a carving knife?"
Location: Apartment 403
Characters: Collette (Animorphs), Isaac Lahey (Teen Wolf), and anyone invited/who might have been invited/who has decided to gatecrash with a potluck offering.
Summary: Collette and Isaac are hosting a for friends Thanksgiving. Which might have gotten slightly larger than planned, and might not be comprised of people who all get along. But it'll be fine! Right? How much can go wrong over a pot-luck Thanksgiving dinner?
Warnings: Everything that can go wrong might very well go wrong.
Notes: Tag in prose or action, whatever suits, and use subject lines to your advantage! All is presumed opened unless specified otherwise. General time subsections have been included for before dinner, during dinner, and after dinner. Threads do not need to be under these subthreads! They're general guidelines people may choose to use.
Enjoy!
Collette had ordered a turkey and spiral-cut ham through one of the butcher shops close to the hold, arranging through them to get the meats that went to what she supposed would be caterers were she back in her own place and time. Here, she just knew them as the people who were going to make sure nothing happened to the turkey part of the meal.
She's pretty sure they're eating turkey and not some other sort of bird.
Either way, between the meat delivered at noon and the rolls she'd picked up that morning, Collette was certain there'd be enough of the basic necessities for even werewolves to feel full with the little something extras appearing under the broad umbrella of a potluck. She was doing her best not to spend too much time thinking about Lym, how she'd not been home the last few days, and how the network tag for her had gone dead.
It's a small, cold comfort, but Collette wants to believe that means Lym is home and arranging for her slow reclaiming of the kingdom away from her jerk of a fiancee with the help of her older brother. She can be thankful for that chance, if not in losing a friend. (Almost like a younger sister, as far as her affections had gone. A very strangely, but well dressed younger sister.)
She reminded herself to talk to Isaac to see if he had a preference for what they did with Lym's stuff. Collette didn't want it to wait around and then be carted off by the Initiative, like Roslyn had waited with Loki's things. That felt... cold and impersonal. But some of the boxing wasn't practical for her to do on her own.
But all of that was for some later time. Right now, she had good things to look forward to -- possibly even frightening ones, with Franziska and Miles' broadcast earlier that day -- and genuine excitement to repress that minor guilt and sadness in losing another friend. She's not lost. She's back where she belongs, so she's really not lost at all.
"Happy Thanksgiving," she informed the room, eying the unlit candles in her impromptu centerpiece. The various fruits and squashes she'd arranged coming out of the basket she liked to use for light shopping was pretty innovative, in her mind. "Didn't think I'd be seeing this holiday again."
Twice as thankful, and both happy and guilty, that she has. "Do we even have a carving knife?"
ANYTIME AFTER DINNER