theresalwayshope | meet the (grand)parents...

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meet the (grand)parents...

Allison felt a little like she was going insane.

She started out just planning to invite Aramis and Porthos over to meet Jason. Dinner and drinks, nothing big. Then she realized she didn't just feel obligated to invite Athos, she wanted to. So, if she did that, she obviously had to invite D'artagnan, and she really wanted to meet Constance...and she'd promised Grey a chance to help her bake a cake, so if she did something more than dinner, she could let him come over at some point...

The small family dinner became a small dinner party, and with a few more additions morphed into an impromptu potluck for the whole building...or anyone that wanted to show up. She told the family about it privately, asking Porthos and Aramis to make sure the others at least stopped by (with a subtle warning that Jason would be there), told everyone else she knew in the city, and for the rest of the building she posted a couple of handmade fliers: one in the elevator, and another in the laundry room announcing that, with either a main course or appetizer offering, an invitation to the holiday celebration taking place in apartment #39...dressy casual to formalwear welcome, bring your favorite Christmas CD as a bonus.

And, of course, she told Jason...and told him her family would be there.

By the night of the party, Allison was ready...she just felt a little like she was going insane.

She kept her outfit cute, but simple, and took care of dessert by baking some cupcakes, gingerbread cookies, and a two layer chocolate cake which she invited Grey over to help her bake. With a little careful scheduling, she also managed to contribute to the food on hand with her second ever attempt at beef bourguignon: rich, hearty, and sort of impressive under the right circumstances. By party time, she had her front door standing open, some Trans Siberian Orchestra carols playing on her stereo, and while she didn't yet have a tree, she'd gotten some cute plastic holly garland to hang around the apartment, and for fun had ringed her whole living room ceiling in multicolor Christmas lights for good measure.

The party was good to go. The place smelled good, the food came out okay with more to come...the evening was good to go.

And when Jason showed up, her family would show up...and they'd all meet each other...

While she waited for her guests, loved ones, and boyfriend to start arriving, Allison puttered around in her kitchen, swore to herself she was not hiding, and tried to pretend that she wasn't having visions of someone either drawing a sword or a knife by the end of the evening.

Tonight had to be perfect.

(HOLIDAY GATHERING POST! Treat it thusly. :P Front door's open, come and go as you please, anyone in the Bramford Building is welcome, and if you know Allison even remotely she told you about the party. Gather at will, and leave a call for Allison in your subject line if you want to play with her directly! Open eternally, will probably be linked near the end of the month. :D)

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“I suppose we get used to it. We adjust.” She pauses at the bottom of the stairs, by the door. Had it happened that fast? Had she really become accustomed to this place so quickly? “At least I did.”

Would the creature? Could he? It was all so bright, so loud, so fast. He was not at all certain. "I s-see."

He keeps his distance as they stand, not wanting to frighten her, not wanting to smell her perfume too closely.

She's not sure that he does, but can she blame him? Whatever it is that he's afraid of, she can't say it isn't without good reason. Kenya remebers when the Irathients were driven out of Defiance after disease came through the town. It hadn't been kind, and even after relations were repaired, many of them were afraid to trust the brittle peace based on their history.

"Should we go? I did promise you something to eat."

He wasn't aware he was grimacing, but the Creature nodded. He has to admit, the food here does smell good, entirely different from what he knew where he was from. He steps out onto the street.

It's lighter out here than in the hall or stairs, and she can see his scars more clearly. Kenya wonders again what it is that did that, before following him, and offering her arm. "It's this way."

It takes the creature a long moment to figure out what it is that she is offering with her arm and he jerks forward at first, his elbow at an angle as he reaches it out.

Kenya is as gentle and graceful as she would be with a boy having his first time or a miner who smelled of sweat and grit. Her hand is light on his elbow and her smile is genuine. "Have you had the buns? They steam them with the meat and everything else inside."

In a way, the creature is both of those things.

Dumbly shaking his head at the question, though; he has not. He had been subsisting on seal meat before coming here, and here, very little, since he still dares interaction only rarely.

He is always hungry, it seems. He has just grown used to it.

"They're good. Do you eat meat?" It's a fair question, she thinks, she's met too many people who don't here for a number of reasons. "The pork ones are the nicest. They're sweet, slightly."

"I e-eat any-anything," he tells her. He has always been hungry. "I w-will tr-try."

"Hopefully, you'll like them, then," she says, leading him down a street toward a row of shops with lights. "It's there."

She looks around them, realising that it's darker here, and he might not be comfortable in the brightness. "Do you want to wait here for me/"

Yes he did.

With another nod, the creature slid into a chair, his back to the wall, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

It doesn't take long for Kenya to order the buns, choosing pork, chicken and a few vegetable. She can feel the warmth of them through the box that she carries back, chosing one for herself and holding it out to him. "Here you go. Try the ones with the bit of paper on top. Those are the bbq pork."

Tentative, his eyes moving between her and the food, he reached in.

The steam had him drawing back, then trying again, finally pulling the bun out.

He smelled it, inhaling deeply, his gaze still flicking to her, even as he took a bite. It is warm enough that he chews with his mouth open, but the flavors are pungent, unlike anything he's tasted before.

Kenya watches from the corner of her eyes, smiling as he chews. She takes a bite herself, savouring the flavours. "You can keep the rest."

The whole bag of buns? That seems egregious. Surely, she wants some. The creature chews, watching her face. "A-are you s-sure?" he asks, when he's swallowed, taking extra care not to spit.

"I am," she says intently, resting her hand again on his sleeve, this time in what she hopes is a reassuring gesture. Kenya pulls a card from her bag, a card that shows the name of her club, Desire. "I can always be found here if you want me."

He takes the card, pinching it between his fingers.

What is this? What does this even mean? Desire.

A dangerous, human emotion, a drive that leads to violence, in his mind. "Wh-what is th-this pl-place?"

“A bar I own. It has some gambling and other entertainments,” she says, not ashamed of the services she provides to the citizens of Darrow.

Other entertainments.

The creature found himself thinking of things which were far from pure. He wouldn't blush, but his face felt prickly.

"D-do you h-have m-many p-patrons?"

“Enough to keep us busy. Weekends are always a rush, and weeknights are slower.” Unsurprising, with the schedules that people work here, different from her experience. Mining wasn’t a Monday to Friday job, and Defiance had been built around mining.

She thinks that it’s likely he’s never had many friends; he seems so nervous and tentative around her. “But you’re welcome to come any time. Just to say hello, if you want.”

What would he do in such a place? Surely he would scare others. Then his knew friend Kenya would hate him as well. He would be kinder to stay away. "Th-thank you."

“You’re welcome,” she says sweetly. Kenya isn’t sure he’ll come by, but she’s tried at least. Friendship couldn’t be forced, nor could companionship. “And thank you for walking me home.”

He by far got the better arrangement from the situation: Food and a beautiful woman being kind. The creature nodded, holding the bag of food in his hands.

"P-perhaps I w-will see you a-a-again."

"I hope so," she says, before pausing to lean and quickly kiss his cheek, hoping that he won't mind her forwardness.

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worstofhumanity - 2014-12-20 04:37 (UTC) - Expand

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