[MINGLE] Harvest Feast 🍂

[sixthiteration]

WHERE: 6I Inn
WHEN: 10 November, all day
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE POST
NOTE: Details can be found here.

---

In the wee hours of November 10th, before even the earliest risers have roused themselves for another day, items begin to appear in the front room of the Inn. Decorations first — Boughs of autumn leaves in their reds and golds, wreaths of dried flowers and silken ribbon, flickering candles among the goards and berries and acorns. The food arrives next, the decadent aroma slipping up the Inn stairs to tempt those lingering in bed — Every imaginable harvest time delicacy, from roast turkey and ham to smoked salmon and oysters; fresh, soft bread warm from the oven to plum pudding and ice cream. And did we mention pie?

Once again, it's time for a feast. The bar is stocked, the coffee is brewed and the tables are groaning with food. Indulge, there's more than enough for everyone — That is, if you don't lose your appetite worrying about what it will all cost.

Comments

claire temple | open

[theluckygirl]

Of course the question of 'at what cost?' was lingering on her mind, too. Claire had come to the realisation quite abruptly after arriving that nothing came without a price there. In fact, everything that hit her senses when she walked through the door to the inn had a Thanksgiving vibe to it.

Were they supposed to be thankful?

Grabbing a plate and piling it high wasn't the first thought that went through her mind, nor any kind of drink that wasn't her usual tea. Instead she watched it all suspiciously and waited to see if people started developing scales, or third eyes.

And her skepticism showed pretty well, too.

[babyhunter]

Clary was enjoying her fifth cup of coffee when she spotted Claire looking very skeptical. She didn't blame her, more so after the invisible ghost thing they had to deal with a few weeks before.

She stepped up to the other woman, her head tilted curiously to the side. She was dressed in the clothes she had slept in, complete with socks, but didn't looked too concerned about it. The runes burned into her shoulders, neck and stomach were visible though they looked more like tattoos than burn marks.

"Hey." She flashed a brief smile. "Worried that it's poisoned or something?"

[3ofswords]

"I too condemn this holiday's erasure of American's genocide of its native population," Kira says, dryly misinterpreting her expression. Any skepticism of his own had been beaten out by his very real--physical, emotional, and mental--need for a well-cooked meal. Not cans, not rations, but food. As if to punctuate the comment, he lifts a still-steaming roll he's cut up into a pocket for turkey and gravy, and takes a decisive, soggy bite.

Breathing deep as he chews, he sighs through his nose, looking at the sandwich like it's the best idea he's ever had. "Is it really not worth risking our lives for something other than salted fish," he asks, wondering what he can pick up and store for later. "I've had two coffees and I haven't died yet."

[thegreatexperiment]

Claire wasn't alone in her skepticism. But Sam had stopped giving a fuck about consequences awhile back. If she was in a Skinner Box, it was clearly operational conditioning. Which meant that she wasn't going to waste the possibility of food.

She was just going to...play it smart.

So it wasn't a plate that Sam started piling up with food.

It was a fucking burlap sack.

She was going to take as much as she could, but wasn't going to touch a bite of it until she'd had enough time to observe and collect data from everyone else who was chowing down.

Re: claire temple | open

[tooktheblack]

The skepticism in her eyes didn't go unnoticed and Jon felt it necessary to say something, if only to reassure the woman that the food was safe. Nothing had ever happened to him at one of these feasts (aside from, of course, the illness that befell some of them back in the spring) and he generally trusted the food.

"It likely won't make you ill," Jon said, nodding at a roast pheasant on the table. "That only happened once, in the spring. Last autumn's feast made no one ill at all."

Lyanna Stark | OTA

[iron_beneath_beauty]

The sudden appearances of food or gifts always set Lyanna on edge, but it was pushed to the back of her mind by the number of questions and thoughts that had begun to build over the previous month. With the snow already arriving, memories of home and the past found their way to her, as much as she wanted to keep them at bay. Her normally fiery personality was tempered by the cold and the first snowfall she had seen since leaving Winterfell. Now there was a feast, something that took her back to the festivities her father arranged.

Even some of the dishes she enjoyed were here, pheasant and ham, oysters (which were a rare delicacy in the North) and berry pies. As much as she loved them, her appetite was poor, the past and present taking much of her attention and energy.

Seated by the window, she stared outside, watching as the rain and snow pelted the glass. "Is it only here that the feasts come? Why not the other village?"

[enterprisingheart]

For all that it doesn't look like anyone has come to harm by partaking of the feast that happens to be laid out, Jean-Luc can't help but be a little wary of it yet. No doubt he'll succumb to temptation sooner or later (if only because who knows when they'll see anything like this again), but for the time being that can wait, he figures. After all, it doesn't look like it's going to be running out anytime soon (and he wants to be a little more certain that it's actually safe to eat besides).

Admittedly, he's only really passing by when he catches Lyanna's comment, but a conversation is as good a way to pass some time as any and the question isn't one that he can say has occurred to him previously.

"That's a good question. I suppose we could check to see if there's also one laid out in the other village, but that would mean finding someone who would be willing to go all the way out there simply to check."

[ethnobotany]

Beverly has been considering the idea of stockpiling some of this food, either by helping here in the Inn or by taking it back to the house she's sharing. The amount of food available right now is staggering and she doesn't want to see it go to waste when they usually have so little. It's almost worth the risk of someone falling ill from the chocolate.

"It might be the same reason no one's said anything about people surfacing out of that fountain," she replies with a light shrug. "The Observers seem to focus on this village. And for a long time, we didn't have access to that one. For whatever reason, this area seems to be the main location."

Re: Lyanna Stark | OTA

[notsocommon]

"That is actually a very good question."

Helen had been busy getting some of the pheasant herself, wanting to tuck in while the feast was still in evidence, and the idle question had piqued her own curiosity. In the time since the other village had appeared, none of the feasts had shown up in the Inn there. Additionally, it seemed the other side of the breach was immune to some of the more annoying environmental mishaps. Hmm.

"Seems like something worth investigating, at any rate." She looked at the chair next to the woman, nodded at it. "Is the seat beside you taken?"

Bela Talbot | OTA

[cleptes]

The smell of the food carried outside as well, when Bela was exploring the village and looking for anything to salvage. She was still feeling unsettled about being here, having to rely on outdated technology and a community spirit. Bela let her curiosity get the better of her and walked towards the inn, pushing open the door. She stepped inside, not quite believing what she could see.

This had to be a trick of some sort. The food certainly looked and smelled real, but she can't help feeling that it didn't come without a price. Bela had seen the food that was prepared here by Kate and as far as she was aware, there were no turkeys around.

Of course that's the moment when her stomach began to growl, and it became harder for Bela to resist. Just a little taste couldn't hurt, right? She glances around the room to see what other people were doing, waiting for them to eat first before she did.

[markwatney]

There's a natural hesitance to the newer folks, and who can blame them? It's probably not productive to tell them that if our overlords have bad shit planned, it's going to happen regardless of whether they partake of the preemptive abundance, but at this point, I can't see the sense in passing up the opportunity. Maybe I just lived too long on tiny rations.

"This has happened before," I say, looking up at the woman from my seat against the wall. I haven't eaten yet, but I've got a coveted cup of coffee held in both hands. "My impression has always been it's more a reward than a test, if that makes any difference to you."

Clary Fray | OPEN

[babyhunter]

It was the smell that woke her up. Coffee.

SOMEONE WAS MAKING COFFEE!

Clary bolted up in bed and ran down the inn steps to find the decorations and the feast. She hadn't bothered to change out of her pajamas which consisted of a purple sports bra, a pair of black yoga pants and a thin pair of white socks. The tattoos along her stomach shoulders and neck were visible but Clary really didn't care because there was coffee.

She gravitated towards the tempting warm black liquid first, taking a small sip before exhaling a happy sign. It wasn't a trick, it was really coffee. It felt like Christmas morning and Clary couldn't be happier. Caffeine withdraw had been the worst part about this village.

She should probably be alarmed at the sudden food but Clary found it difficult to be skeptical after everything else that she's been through. She was going to eat all the delicious food, maybe find something stronger to drink and spend the day doing absolutely nothing but focusing on the feast. She might even steal a pie and save it for tomorrow.

"This is strange but delicious." There was conflict in her tone, as if she wasn't sure how to feel about all of this.

[enterprisingheart]

The conflict, at least, is something that Picard can understand. Not that there isn't very much a part of him that wants to make the most of what has been laid out before them, but he can't deny that he's half-expecting it to be some sort of trick. Or the precursor to something terrible enough that the Observers feel they need to preemptively apologize.

Admittedly, that latter is fairly unlikely, given what he knows of them thus far. But he's not about to entirely rule out the possibility either. Not when he's still half-convinced that the Observers are something very much like Q, if not actually Q himself. But those thoughts are ones best kept for later. Right now, there are more pressing matters at hand, and if he's using the prospect of a conversation to serve as a way to see if anything untoward happens to those who do partake, he figures that's not entirely unreasonable.

"My thoughts exactly. Especially given that I wouldn't call this anything like normal."

jean-luc picard | open

[enterprisingheart]

For all that Picard isn't expecting the sight that happens to greet him when he walks into the Inn, he's not particularly inclined to trust the feast either. Or rather, isn't entirely inclined to trust to the Observers' good will, which amounts to roughly the same thing. True, it is about the season for this sort of thing, if he's remembering correctly, but from what he's heard and seen of the Observers, their history of altruism is somewhere in the vicinity of Q's. Which is to say, highly suspect at the very least, and quite possibly likely to not bode terribly well either.

On the other hand, he's not entirely certain he wants to think about what might happen if they're seen to not sufficiently appreciate what is almost certainly meant as some sort of gift. Or worse, to outright reject it.

Which leaves him a little at odds as to what to do, and after a brief moment of watching how everyone else seems to be reacting to the bounty, he turns to whoever happens to be nearest to him.

"I don't suppose you'd know if this has happened before?"

[chirrutsluck]

"It has," Baze answers, his plate already filling up with bits and pieces of various things he's never tried before. He doesn't look particularly pleased with the feast, but he's going to taste it all at least.

And, because he figures the rest of the question is forthcoming, he adds: "Nothing terrible happened last time. Unless you think the sun stopping in the sky a couple weeks later is connected." Baze doesn't. He's pretty sure most of what happens here isn't particularly connected to anything else, unless it happens directly after, like the stupid disappearing melon and his personal rain cloud last month.

Baze Malbus | OTA

[chirrutsluck]

The first time free food showed up, Baze had been a brand new arrival and wary of it, despite everyone else telling him it wouldn't poison him. The second time free food showed up, it disappeared when he tried to pick it up and he wound up rained on for the rest of the day, with his own personal storm cloud.

This time, once the food proves to be sticking around after he prods it, Baze has decided he doesn't care. Whatever the cost is, it can't be worse than giving him Chirrut for a month and then taking him away again. So he fills up a plate with a bit of everything, and a generous mug of something that smells like strong alcohol, and retreats to a seat in the common room with both plate and mug to watch everyone else poke at the feast. He isn't precisely being asocial, but he's not approaching people directly, either.

He may also make away with a jug of that strong alcohol at the end of the day, when he's tired of being even that much social, to sit on the porch of the house he's been repairing and drink it by himself.

[theluckygirl]

Claire isn't brand new, but this is her first feast and while she was skeptical initially, she's now sitting and eating not far from where the man takes a seat. She offers a smile in greeting before piercing a piece of turkey with her fork and eyeing it thoughtfully.

"It's good, but it doesn't beat mom's cooking." she says randomly, glancing over to the man before taking the bite into her mouth. It was a generalisation, of course, but a conversation opener none the less. She'd understand, however, if he would eat than talk.

Kira Akiyama | OTA

[3ofswords]

It's more food than Kira's seen in a long, long time. All of it fresh, all of it cooked: steaming meat and bread, mashed potatoes, pumpkin loaves and pies. It isn't exactly what his mother served for the holiday, and it's--it's fucking rough to remember, this is what people were eating, this is what people were doing the day before the virus hit the streets.

The last meal he had with his family, sister included, was Thanksgiving dinner.

The way things are shaking out, in Manhattan and now here--there might not be another.

Ignoring the food doesn't even occur to him. He's heard enough about old feasts, been asked about some past iteration's participation in them--they happen. No one's shown him to a mass grave for the people who partook, and part of him doesn't care. If he can die eating real food, it beats another four months of scraps and scavenging in the snow.

Not to mention, there's fucking coffee.

It puts him in range of a lot of people he might have known, has very much forgotten--but it's worth it. After a few rounds of the tables--and a few bottles carted back to the brick house behind the inn--he settles in by the fire. He's got a slice of hot apple pie with ice cream in one hand, a mug in the other, and at his hip sits a carafe of coffee and a bottle of something amber. If anyone wants to judge the safety of the food, they can give him another hour to turn purple and keel over.

[zomboligist]

To say that Ravi has been a bad friend is...well, it's sort of glossing over it. Still, he thinks that being a ferret had been a troubling experience and then Major losing his memories had nearly trapped him in a lab. So he knows that something's happened with Kira, but it's possible that he didn't pay much attention to the details, which is why he approaches as he would any other time, lured out by the smell of stuffing and sweet potatoes and concoctions he's creating by smashing foods together just to mimic pizza and other delicacies from home using what he can find.

"You know, I could accuse you of hogging all the coffee," Ravi informs Kira as he takes a spot beside him, not quite where Kira can put his legs in his lap (like one of the last times), but close enough. He cheers with his glass of wine before digging into the food, not really paying much mind to any reaction.

Again, the bad friend bit.

Apparently, when you have one friend develop slowly-degrading amnesia, you turn into a bastard. It's something he'll note for later, but for right now, he's on his way to figuring it out.

Jude Sullivan | OTA

[theintercessor]

On his sliding scale of homesickness, even if every scent and sight in the inn was just in his head, today would rank pretty high. Turkey and pie is as much a sign of time passing as the brief snows. It's that time of year again, not even a year behind him.

He hadn't made it home for Thanksgiving. He hadn't even realized it was passing, coming out of a tunnel the Sunday after with Charlie in his voicemail and Parker not answering his calls. The one time other than Christmas he could count on Charlie to be home, and he'd missed it. He'd been the asshole, his dad absorbed into some other family or at the diner, eating turkey alone with the parade on in a corner.

Logically, enough time hasn't passed for him to be standing up Charlie a second time, but it feels that way, even if he can't look the gift feast in the mouth.

Jude's layers against the weather come off over time spent in the inn, scarf and coat saving a corner away from fire and windows both. Too many shapes to flicker in either, distract him with too many people around. It's a few trips before he lets himself inspect the bar, finds a bottle of schnapps with enough others that it shouldn't be missed. Someone always had a bottle of this shit tucked away at school, and at least he knows the taste. He pours it into a coffee mug and stows the rest in his coat, tucking all of his long limbs into the seat and watching the crowd as he drinks. It isn't exactly a party, but it's a big enough crowd that old habits die hard.

[onlyeverdoubted]

The spread is meaningless to Bodhi except as some interesting food he doesn't recognize, just like last time. He's a bit of a kid in a candy shop when he first arrives, downing a celebratory cup of coffee almost too fast to taste just to feel his blood pop and sizzle like it's supposed to, and with the second one in hand he goes about putting two or three bites of everything on his plate, favoring whatever looks or smells interesting. Nothing tastes like anything here, and he's loading up on flavors to tide him over until the next little break.

Once the initial thrill fades and he thinks to look around, he spots Jude. He already knew he was ignoring problems and letting this simple little piece of excitement run roughshod over a few percolating issues, but that doesn't work with one of them in the room. He can't deal with Kira. He can't cope with Baze's loss and his own (however miniscule in comparison). But maybe he can find out if he completely karked things up with Jude. There's a distinct timidity in his face, something beyond the usual caution, as he approaches. He wants to cuddle up right away (well, for a value of cuddle that means sitting close and linking arms, maybe), but he can't until he has a sense of how much he messed up the other night. "Hey?"

Major Lilywhite | OTA

[majorlyugh]

The smell is what catches his attention first, as soon as he steps foot out of the house. He's apparently had a time in regards to his memory, but ... the funny thing is, he doesn't really remember! At least not outside of what the others have told him. He has no idea what brought it on, what made it progress, what made it go away in a matter of a week or so, but the second the aroma of food hits his nose, whatever concerns he might've had are promptly replaced with the overwhelming hunger that hits him like a brick to the face.

When the smell gets stronger the closer he gets to the inn, he goes from walking at a brisk pace to full-out sprinting, barging through the door with some excitement and eagerness. At the sight of the spread of never-ending food - and dear god, is that coffee???? - Major lets out an exasperated groan, knowing that he'll never be able to eat as much as he wants because of stupid biology. But like hell if he isn't going to try.

In an instant, he's collecting things on a plate and hoarding some of the desserts off to the side. He might already have shoved a good number of things into his face, too - causing him to have some chipmunk cheeks as he makes his way down the table.

[cleptes]

Bela was finishing off her plate and contemplating more desserts when she notices Major stuffing his face with the food. So maybe he hasn't eaten that well in a while and decided to make the most of it. Chipmunk cheeks aside, Major was an attractive man. Bela definitely noticed that too. He probably wasn't the only one in the village, but he's the only that she is looking at right now.

She makes her way towards the ice cream section of the table after some more internal debate, meeting him half-way. "Hello." Bela smiles, lifting a bowl so that she could scoop some of the ice cream into it with a spoon. "You look like you're enjoying yourself."

They don't know each other but better late than never for an introduction, right?

Eddard Stark | OTA

[learned_to_die]

It isn't difficult for Ned to remember the last time there was food like this, perfectly spread and angled just so, so as to entice a passerby into eating all that was being offered. He remembers Jon recounting tales of the feast that last appeared in the village, the ensuing sickness that followed. He remembers Jon offering something of a combative approach: the events were scarce and should therefore be enjoyed, yet one should not indulge too extravagantly as there was often a hidden price, one that was not always immediately apparent.

Remembering this, Ned silently sends his thanks to the Old Gods or whomever might be watching for allowing them to partake in such a festivity, but he is also a bit conservative when it comes to what he takes and what he decides to eat. Although he has never been a gluttonous eater the way his dear friend Robert had been, Ned has also lived through harsh winters made harsher by the northern climate, and he knows that, if the changing tide of the weather is any indication, perhaps it is best for him to fatten up - just a bit - in case things are sparse. He has yet to live through a winter here in the village, but if they resemble any of the winters back home, it is best to prepare in some way.

He thinks to look into take some of the excess back to the house, for him, Arya, and Robb, but he will wait until the festivities have ended so he doesn't deprive anyone of enjoying the food.

His plate is a variety of meats and the heartier vegetables, slices of the freshly baked bread (whose aroma is enough to make his mouth water), and a few pieces of various desserts. He has also claimed a bottle of wine with further plans, towards the end of the night, to stow away a few more back at the house for some unnamed future occasion.

[cleptes]

A spread like this wouldn't last very long. Bela didn't know how many people were actually in the village but if some of the food could be preserved, anything left behind would probably be gone. After speaking with some of the other villagers and seeing them eat, Bela is confident enough that the food was safe to consume.

She's careful not to over indulge herself though, in case she became uncomfortably full, but Bela is going to avail of the wine that was on offer - there was no chance of her not drinking when it was there to be taken.

Bela opts for a balanced meal, putting meat and vegetables on her plate with some bread on the side. A second plate holds her selection of desserts (of course she was going to have a sweet treat afterwards) and she carries them carefully towards a table, one that already had someone seated at it.

"Is this seat free?" Bela asks of the man, giving him a smile. She's supposed to talk to people, right? Appearing as friendly and approachable would make the conversation easier.

Gaius Gracchus | OTA

[ad_dicendum]

Gracchus had intended to spend the morning studying the crossroads outside the Inn, determining the best way to go about the beginning of the almost-plan that he and Kate Kelly had come up with in between his work on the storehouse. He's been out to the river, walked up and down its banks to search for the best source of the river-gravel he hopes to use, and he thinks there's enough available to at least do something about the spot where the roads intersect, as Kate had asked.

He has thoughts of roads, memories of construction projects undertaken for the Senate and People of Rome floating in his mind, occupying him as he comes downstairs, and it's only slowly that the smell begins to attract his attention.

The smell, and the noise, of many more people than are usually in the Inn before the midday meal that Kate Kelly prepares. It's only when he enters the main room that he sees what's happened -- something that has happened here before, but only rarely. A lavish feast, with fowl and seafood and bread, fruits of the harvest but including those they do not have to harvest here. He knows what they have in store, and this has not come from the supplies of the village.

While he'd had plans, the appearance of a gift of food is one not to be ignored in this place. Nor is the wine that has appeared at the bar, and it is there that he heads before he makes for the food.

"I have missed the wines of my home."

[treadswater]

Annie isn't a big drinker. Occasional heavy indulgence, occasional languid tipsiness, social drinks and not much else. She's more inclined to use wine in cooking, beer only when she used to be a deckhand. But here, alcohol is rare and sometimes it might be... nice, yes, nice, to have a glass or two.

Also alcohol can be useful for wounds, never should forget that point. She'll just have to hide it if Finnick has a bad patch. And the drinks are where things like hot chocolate are.

So she's over at the bar, peering at the bottles (and debating what to slip into her backpack) while curling her thin fingers around a steaming mug of hot chocolate when she hears the comment. She's seen him around, though his name escapes him. She hasn't talked to him much since her geese objected to him, partly through embarrassment.

But he's here and she looked over so maybe she should make an effort. She feels curiously vulnerable without her birds, though.

"Are, um. The wines here like, like the ones you know?"

annie cresta(-odair) | ota

[treadswater]

It's a feast to rival that of last year's, at least to Annie's eyes so far. The main differences are her - last year, she and Finnick had crept in almost literally from the cold, dirty and stealing more than they ate. This year, they are clean (Annie even thinks she looks cute, with those dark military pants and her off-the-shoulder sweater) and...

Well, honestly, Annie is still taking what she wants. It's less stealing this time, more just taking. They are allowed, they are encouraged, and their backpacks can contain a lot. There is no sense in wasting this bounty, this feast. The weather is cooling, clouding over, and stores need to be stretched. But first, food and eating it now.

Specifically, oysters. She's missed sea-food, and storing oysters is always a challenge. She'll dive in before they go off. Then? The rest, with a generous hand of shoving food and candles alike into her backpack. Given the brightness of her eyes and the pink flush to her cheeks, the shy woman seems to be enjoying herself, so it's as good a time as any to talk to her. Particularly once with a faint, gleefully sound, she pounces on the hot chocolate and tucks herself into a chair to enjoy.

The wariness will be back once she and her husband leave. That's when the woman died, last time.

[elderflowermacarons]

There's something Taako doesn't admit to himself he recognizes, the way a person squirrels things away when they've been deprived, not just out of greed. He's quite well acquainted with both, but he prefers to pretend away the former and revel in the latter. It's possible he's just missing his sister particularly at this moment--turkey is Lu's favorite thing in any world, not that she could ever, for a single moment, have been described as shy. A little manic, though? Yeah. "those little pie shell things should hold up pretty good," he says impassively, not looking up from his own plate.

Taako | OTA

[elderflowermacarons]

This food is... boring. It's depressing. There are so many things a person can do with resources like this, and tediously homey nonsense cooking is for losers. And absolutely doesn't make him horribly miss the only place he was ever anything like a child or the sister who goes nuts for this shit.

But, hey, it's a good place to scope out marks. He's supposed to steal some shit, and it's very hard to get a handle on what might actually be remotely worth stealing in this trash village. And it's not like the food they usually have is better. He'd rather have cooked it himself, and replacing crappy camp food with dull old lady food is a sad lack of creativity, but he's still going to eat a bunch of it.

The combination of purpose and the kind of nervous energy Taako gets when he doesn't feel like acknowledging that he has emotions drives him hard. He keeps interesting piled plates in his hand at all times as he darts about making inept, overly-loud conversation.

[super_seal]

After the last couple of months of only eating what he could catch, the Thanksgiving spread was more than he could turn down. He understood that there would likely be some sort of consequence to taking part and eating the food, but at the same time, it seemed like doing the wrong thing at any given point in time, like picking fruit from a tree, could end up equally as bad. He may regret it later, but he'd deal with that later.

Sitting at a table in the corner, he's watching those around him while he eats. He's only been here a couple of months and a good part of that he spent in the forest looking for a way out so he doesn't really know a lot of people yet. Now seems to be a good time though to get a feel for the others who have been brought here. Perhaps it's his 'cop' instinct, even if he'd still vehemently deny being a cop, but when he spots Taako watching the others with what seems more than just idle curiosity, it makes Steve watch him all the more. There's no attempt to hide the fact that he's watching. Steve's never been known to be subtle, and he's certainly not trying for that now.

Killian Jones | ota

[seekingcrocodile]

He doesn't know at first that there's anything special going on in the inn, since he doesn't live there and therefore it isn't the smells of the food that wake him. He was up in the early hours of the morning anyway, as usual, tending to some tasks around the house. It's only as he notices the actions of others in the village that he figures out something is happening, and he's been here long enough to have a good idea of what it is.

It's strange, of course, this food appearing out of nowhere when they normally have to work so hard for it, but he can't deny how much of a relief it is to have a break once in awhile. To be able to know that this once, there will be enough to eat and no one will have to overexert themselves to get it. (Though of course there is the possibility of overdoing it while enjoying the feast.)

As soon as Killian discovers what's going on, he grabs an empty glass bottle and heads for the inn. He knows what comes along with all the food, and he's prepared. He kept the empty bottle for just such an occasion.

He attempts, as surreptitiously as possible, to fill his bottle from one of the bottles provided. These feasts are never just feasts, he knows that, but his stash is dwindling. Besides, the cost will come whether he partakes or not, and there's no point in going hungry just to try and avoid it. This time he just won't go outside until it's necessary, and hopefully if there are any gruesome discoveries to be made this time, it will be someone else making them.

Once the bottle is safely set aside in a place where he can come back for it later, he returns to the main room of the inn to fill up a plate of food and find somewhere to sit.

[super_seal]

Steve enters the Inn and pauses as his eyes take in all the food and he's immediately suspicious. So far, it's seemed to him anyway, that those here are meant to fend for themselves when it came to food. He's heard that some have received gifts but those are highly individual in nature. Something this large and lavish reeks of a trap.

At the same time, the food smells good and there's so much of it. If the Observers wanted to poison or kill them off surely there were easier ways for them to go about it other than this. Eyes moving over the crowd, he sees people digging in and others hanging back. While he understands the need to be careful, he's also not about to let an opportunity pass him by because of uncertainty.

Looking over the crowd he spots someone who appears quite content to fill his dish and walks up to his table. Steve's never really been one for preamble, so when he's close enough to speak to he juts his chin out towards the food and asks, "This a regular thing that happens here?"

Erik Lehnsherr | ota

[frankensteinian]

Erik is naturally suspicious, perhaps more even than most. But then again, for most of his life, he was never given anything for free. Or when he was, it came with a catch. He knows it's not that simple, and he knows that they haven't been given this for free, either.

But that's not going to stop him from coming to the inn anyway, once he has discovered that something is there. In addition to knowing that nothing ever comes for free, he also knows what it's like to be short on food. While they're not as close to starving here as he once was in his past, he's familiar with the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, and knows that as winter approaches, that feeling will be more common through the long months ahead.

So while one instinct is telling him to stay far away from this offering, that nothing good will come of it and it's meant to lull them into a false sense of security, another one is telling him that when there's food, and plenty of it, that he should let his guard down this once and partake. If he can eat or save enough for a day or two, that would take a little stress off and let him worry about something else for a bit.

He does hang back for awhile though, watching, to make sure that there are no immediate effects of the food being given to them. It's only prudent.

[guessihavelostcount]

"Everyone seems to be okay so far." Claire seems to know his worry as she comes up to his side, her hand sliding across the small of his back in a familiar way while she keeps her eyes trained on the table of food.

Truthfully, she has already picked at a couple small pieces of food while wandering around, nibbling here and there just to see if there are any strange side effects. So far, she seems to be doing okay but she knows that Erik will be suspicious. Not that she is sure she can soothe his mind in any way but she does understand it.

"There is alcohol too." She says that part with a bit of a fond smile.

For Baze and Ned

[pretendtoneedme]

It's Thanksgiving.

While people from non-American cultures may not recognize it, Clint is *so* steeped in "being American" - he has a giant flag hanging in his barn - that the sight of all of that food and all those types of food make it unmistakable to him. And that means he's been here almost a year; he's not sure of the actual count of days, but it wasn't long after Christmas when he climbed out of the fountain.

A year in this village. A year away from his family... probably a year of them thinking he was dead.

He's more than practical enough to bundle up a good portion of food and take it back to the house he and Wanda share with Beverly and Picard (and of course a lot of coffee, he can reheat it over the fire later), but right now he's feeling far too down to stay and be social. Clint returns after the food theft to raid the bar, taking a bottle each of rye whiskey and bourbon, and two of vodka, before crossing the road to the bakery, which he's pretty sure will still have some fuel to burn even though the bakers are gone. He can count the number of times in his life he's gotten completely freaking hammered on one hand, but he's about to add one more.

[chirrutsluck]

Baze's little house, where he's staying with Johanna at least until Johanna gets tired of him, overlooks a good portion of the village square, so he spots Clint crossing over to the bakery with his hoard of alcohol while he sits on his own front porch in the cold air and drinks from his own borrowed jug of some kind of cheap but heady drink-- most of the alcohols here aren't what he's used to, so he doesn't know the right names to give things.

He considers Clint's obvious purpose for a moment, then pushes to his feet to follow without a word.

And he doesn't tell Johanna. She has her own stash, now, he's sure, and he doesn't want to encourage her to get more.

Kira Nerys (OTA)

[thenewways]

Now, Nerys would be lying to say she isn't incredibly wary of what Observer largess tends to yield in the long term. 'Beware Greeks bearing gifts' is a human reference that she has actually heard and understood, and it seems pretty apt around these parts, month in and month out. But survival instinct, as ever, wins out over any concern, and it's not just the food, either: the jars she got in the spring have been incredibly useful, and the wax from these candles is worth gathering up. The smoked seafood can potentially keep for a while if they keep it cold, and--

Okay, okay, she really, really wants a cup of coffee and some ice cream and a sandwich from one of those big roast birds with that stuff people call 'stuffing', not to mention the bright red berry jellies (Prophets know when they'll see that kind of color again). Her every motivation doesn't always have to be for the greater good; she's not Federation, after all.

Nerys tries not to think, as she settles at a table with a massive mug and her first round of food, about how she and Veronica had saved the chocolates last year, and made them last for months. Then, in trying to think about something else, she tries not to hunch over her food. It won't do her any good to gobble it up all at once.

The coffee is completely gone before she can even process drinking it, though, and she eases up from her chair once her plate is clean, to go get another round. Spiked, this time.

[ethnobotany]

As soon as Beverly spies Nerys, she makes her way over with her own plate of food and cup of coffee. She'll be stockpiling the leftovers after she's eaten, to be sure. In the meantime, she can say hello to a friend.

"Hi, Nerys," she says, her smile warm and gentle. "Mind a little company?"

She doesn't think Nerys will turn her down, but she always likes to be sure, especially since they're still really forging that bond of friendship. It's different with Jean-Luc, where she barely even needs to ask anymore. Maybe one day she'll get there with Nerys, but it hasn't happened yet.