minor_variation: (dubious)
[personal profile] minor_variation
The last waning days of Dark continue to keep the mansion deep in snow and storms, and food remains scarce, though the residents are better insulated this year than they were before. The lake is frozen over; the woods are full of leafless and evergreen trees.

Into these unwelcoming conditions comes a young man, not yet twenty, wading on foot through the hip-deep snowdrifts. His clothes are his brothers' hand-me-downs, well-worn but clean, and his cloak is wool wrapped close around his body. He wears a sword belted around his waist. His oiled knapsack contains a few days provisions and two precious books, each of which cost most his month's stipend, a bundle of preserved heather, a worked copper charm that's meant to ward off bad luck, a handful of coins, and a smooth and heavy stone statue of a seal, small enough to fit in one hand.

He's dark-haired and green-eyed, with a scattering of freckles across his face and an anemic bit of stubble on his chin and cheeks from the journey.

For the last hour or so he's been following the distant shape of the mansion, and by the time he arrives on the doorstep he's shivering, his nose red and running and tears frozen into his lashes. When he knocks on the door, there's a palpable sense of relief.
keep_the_peace: (Default)
[personal profile] keep_the_peace
Waking up in a strange bedroom, in a strange house, was bad enough, but then when Benvolio finally made his way to the front door he was greeted by snow outside. Summer might be coming to an end, but it definitely is not snow weather yet, nor is Benvolio dressed for such, in his black silk doublet, black and blue trimmed trunk hose, and black stockings. He does have shoes on, thankfully, though he can't imagine how he would have fallen asleep wearing shoes. It's not like he's had much opportunity to celebrate to the point of blacking out lately, after all.

Regardless, he takes one look at the snow outside and decides to shut the door and instead turn his attention to the table covered in different pamphlets and papers. He has many questions.
quote_gentle_unquote: (a129. keep to tradition)
[personal profile] quote_gentle_unquote
The day of the second annual Wanderers Gather dawns bright and cold. It's earlier in autumn than last year's - there's still a month of the season left. The trees are resplendent, in oranges and reds and golds, leaves still clinging to most of the trees. A large gingko by the lake is showing signs that it's going to do its leaf dump in the next few days, but so far, it's still a vision clad in bright yellow.

Susan, whose dishes strategically benefit from advance preparation, has all her offerings chilling in the icebox, ready to be brought to temperature right before the feast begins. This allows her to bustle from kitchen to kitchen, ensuring that everyone has got the ingredients they need to prepare their dishes, and that no one is in need of any assistance. She also pops out to the lawn - she trusts Sagramore and Laertes to oversee the set-up that they all discussed weeks ago, and has sent Lancelot along as her emissary to assist with the process however needed, but many hands do make light work, and she doesn't want set-up to preclude either of them from being able to finalize their own contributions.

The bonfire itself she puts into SecUnit's control. It doesn't seem to eat, but it does seem to worry about situations it considers unsafe for humans, and Susan expects this shall enable it to participate in a way meaningful to it.

As she floats from space to space, ensuring everyone has got what they need in terms of ingredients, supplies, and assistance, she feels warmth glow in her chest. It does rather feel like the preparation of dishes is part of the festive atmosphere: people are coming together and cooking together, or sharing space in the same kitchens, moving around each other almost like a dance. In some cases, the dance is graceful; in others, it's tremendously awkward, but still.

Frankly, she's a little choked up about it. She chips in where needed, and then goes outside to help check that the devices she and Lancelot found earlier to keep warm food warm without the need for fire or enormously-long extension cords are functioning well.

By the time the sun starts to set, the fire is burning merrily and the tables are laden with food and drink.


Feel free to thread the cooking process and the partying process! Food offerings can be described in the sign-up post here (for easy/quick reference) or in your tags!

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