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Giving Thanks

Username: Fiction1119
Character: Dawn DaLumos

I'm thankful for:
Thanksgiving was a big deal in the DaLumos household, not quite as big as Christmas but bigger than all the other holidays. It started in earnest nearly two weeks before with buying the food and cleaning the house. Most of the decorations were put up right after the halloween stuff was packed up but the more important stuff, the food, had to wait till the day was much closer. The house was full of the sound of the vacuum and the scent of baking days before while cooking the main meal started the day before. Everyone pitched in to get everything done in time so by the time the doorbell first rings on Thanksgiving everything is perfect.

Before Dawn could blink the house was full of people. The sound of talking, laughing, and even the radio that was on soon filled the whole building until the teen couldn't hear herself think. Dawn loved it. Bouncing from conversation to conversation, injecting her ideas and personality into everything from the best dessert recipes to current events. Even helping with the final dishes didn’t keep her from visiting. There were more than a dozen people in the spacious kitchen either helping outright or ‘helping’ by getting in the way not that anyone was complaining. The only time she wasn't visiting was when she was asked to help get all the food to the table and boy was there a lot. There was the standard turkey and ham but also a tofu veggie stir fry along with mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes, stuffing, dozens of vegetable dishes, and two different roll versions. Such a verity was necessary since Dawn wasn't alone in being a vegetarian there were also a few allergies and dietary needs all seated around the table.

Her father remained standing at the head of the table as everyone settled into their seats. Everything was ready except for one more critical thing… A Thanksgiving grace. He cleared his throat and with a calming breath, formally greeted everyone. “Thank you all for joining us on this day of giving thanks. Dawn will you do us the honor of giving the blessing?” He nodded towards his daughter who was blushing a bright red.

As the older man finally took his seat Dawn stood. Like her father she cleared her throat before beginning. “We give thanks this day for the bountiful table set before us as well as the friends and family that is surrounding it.” She smiled hesitantly at the crowd around her. Her eyes caught on the folded flag that was mounted on the wall surrounded by photos of her grandparents, including her grandpa in his dress uniform from his army days. “We also give thanks to those in all kinds of uniform who can't be with their families this day. Keep them in mind as we enjoy the food and company today. Amen.” Dawn sat down to polite applause which was quickly replaced by talking and the sounds of cutlery as food begin to rotate the table.

Giving Thanks

Username: Syrie
Character: Colin Hargrove aka Aegir of Silence

I'm thankful for: A lot of things, okay.

Colin hadn’t planned on celebrating Thanksgiving this year, though there was no single pressing reason behind it.

Certainly he had many places he could go to or wonderful people he could celebrate with: his mother and sister, his cousins. Nadia, Lorne, and Auguste. Aleksy. Van. Even Quenton probably would have had him over, if he’d said something. But he’d bowed out of Thanksgiving with his family which had upset his younger sister only until reminded that without Colin, the family could have a real turkey! He’d been quite amused when Miri had called him excitedly about the ‘turducken’ that they were having for Thanksgiving. As for his friends and loved ones…well, it wasn’t as though he didn’t want to see them. Quite the opposite.

But he was always so busy and wanted to take some time to meditate perhaps, to contemplate all the changes that had happened in his life and reflect on them.

Or perhaps he didn't want his friends and family to see just how ill suited he was to not being mad-cap busy: without work, Colin hardly knew what to do with himself. The night before Thanksgiving he went home and had a rather nice evening with Khaleel - who would be leaving early the next morning for the holiday - but even as he showered and prepared for sleep, the danseur was already thinking about what he would be doing for the following four days.

Four days without ballet practice, without shows or teaching. Without Khaleel’s stories of his schooling. Four days with most of the outside world hunkering down with friends and family to celebrate and give thanks…or just to eat. An inaccurate and incorrect holiday if there ever was one, but Colin still liked Thanksgiving - or the idea of it. There were so many things in his life he could be thankful, grateful, for.

His health, his talent - a fantastic job that afforded him the ability to do what he loved and be paid for it. For the ability to become Sailor Aegir, to be allowed that enhanced chance to protect his loved ones, to serve the people of the planet he loved so dearly.

For wonderful friends: people he loved and cherished like Vanessa, Quenton, Ash, Faust, and Isaiah. Like Nadia, Lorne, Auguste, and Aleksy. His mother, who had always supported his choices - even when they weren’t the best - and had never once made him feel that being a ballet dancer made him anything less. Or his sister, who despite having a mild form of Down’s Syndrome and a high functionality, was absolutely the best sister a guy could ever have asked for.

And of course, Björn, who had been such a large part of his life but was no longer there the way Colin might have wished. It hurt, of course, but there had never really been a time when the danseur hadn’t been thankful to have known Björn. To have been allowed to love him and be loved by him.

Yes, Colin Hargrove had plenty to be thankful for, even if circumstances were such to sometimes make it difficult to remember this.

Giving Thanks

Username: Serpentsong
Character: Sitara/Sailor Kastra

I'm thankful for: Even as the air grew cooler, the blue skies giving way to the gray, dull colors of winter, there was a warmth in the air. The scent of spices, and sweet meats hovering in the air about the Brennan house. This time of year was anything but the traditional Thanksgiving, at least here. Though this is what happens when one grows up in an Indian household, rather than a more traditional home. That is what Sitara enjoyed the most. Her family was anything but normal.

She sat in the living room, her sari wrapped about her in a shining mass of gold and orange. These were he favorite colors, the warmth of them always making her smile. Next to her was and older woman, a matching garment in deep brown and gold wrapped about her. This woman had a feeling to her, one of authority and wisdom, but at the sand time there was a comforting aura in the air, like the feeling of a warm blanket, fresh from the wash. This was Gran, and even as Sitara nestled up beside her, listening to the sound of her heartbeat, this wonderful woman told tales of exotic lands.

"The dark king stole the Princess away and his her in his palace away from the eyes of any that would search for her. Even from the longing eyes of her beloved prince that would take her for his bride." The woman wrapped one arm around her granddaughter, she smiling down at her with those aged eyes.

"But the heroic prince gathered his friends and at out on a quest to save his beloved from the evil demon king!" Sitara grinned, her eyes shining bright as she helped her along. "Mama said the food should be done soon, we should get ready, Gran." The young woman inched herself out of the other's grasp, she having to adjust the bit of fabric that fell from her shoulder before helping the other woman to her feet. It was more the blind leading the blind as Sitara was not known to be the most steady herself, but as they both managed to stay upright the pair laughed.

The laughter was short lived as another woman, this one younger and exerting authority like it oozed from her blood, entered the room. There was humor in her eyes but she hid it as she glance at the pair. "Mother, honestly, you will only keep Sitara's head in the clouds with all those stories. She needs to focus on her studies. As for today, I need her help adding the finishing touches to the meal and setting the table."

There was a soft sigh of sadness as Sitara's expression fell. She did so enjoy acting out the stories, but she knew her mother needed the help. "I will set the table first, momma. Then Gran can sit and talk while we finish cooking." She winked at the older woman, she only returning it seconds later when she was certain her daughter was not watching.

"I will make certain that no one slips in anything that ought not be there. You know your grandfather, he will try anything once." She moved with her shaking legs toward the dining room, sitara bouncing on by moments after her. She stopped for a moment to offer a gentle kiss to her mother's cheek before seeing to her work.

The table itself was covered in a fine, crimson, tablecloth. The centerpiece a large, golden statue of Ganesha surrounded by roses, mums, and other elegant, yet season appropriate flowers. Each chair was covered with a cloth to match the table, and a stack of fine, ivory-toned dishes sat off to one end.
Sitara moved to that pile of dishes, her fingers feeling for the edges, making certain she had a firm grip of them before lifting them into her arms. She placed one plate at each of the for sides of the table, making certain they were all straight and not about to fall. She nodded to herself once she was satisfied. "Not bad, but there should be more plates."

She lowered her head and pouted for a moment at the thought of her father not being there for another holiday. It had been years since he had last joined them, but every year, Sitara hoped to see him at the door.

She wiped way a stray tear and set to placing the silverware. Place settings were one of the first things she had been taught as a child, and she enjoyed it. Entertaining friends always ment good cheer, and oh how Sitara loved to smile.
Once the table was set, the young woman moved to the kitchen. It was what was there when she entered that made her nearly drop to her knees. She had been expecting food, expected seeing her mother near the stove, but what she has not expected was to see the tall, dark-skinned, form of her father, sitting there at the bar, waiting for her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she near fell the the floor, the tall man the in seconds to catch her as her mother gasped in surprise. "Sitara!" She moved to help her daughter stand, but once seeing her in the arms of her ex she knew she was alright. "Don't scare me like that!"

The man's deep voice, rumbled from his chest as he chuckled. "I did surprise her abit, I don't blame her. " he looked down at his daughter, hugging her close before letting sitara down to regain her footing."we thought it was about time I came for dinner. Your half brothers are still cooking for their mother, so I thought I could stop in for some spicy curry."

Sitara's mother just shook her head, grinning at the man as she adjusted her apron. "Go set yourself a place at the table. Sitara, darling, I need to to watch this so that it doesn't over thicken or burn."

Sitara smiled, a new sorting in her step as she moved to her mother's side, she having a towel to cover her clothing. "Thank you." She whispered to her mother, taking her hand and hugging it. "We needed him here."

The pair worked together for what seemed, to them, forever. Each of them toiling over getting the food just right before seeing it aside and working on the next dish. Sitara loved these moments with her mother, treasured them. Her mother was always so busy, tending to work, tending to home, that sitara barely ever got to see her. When they were in the kitchen together, it was like their own little world.

Sitara preferred baking over cooking. Some of her most believed memories were at this time of year, rolling out cookies, making cakes, and stringing popcorn for holiday garland. Every year they would spend hours together. Every year they would goof around, and more often than not, return covered on flour and colored icing.

"Sitara, nothing brings me more joy than to see a smile on your face. You came into this world smiling, starting up into my eyes, and to see the sadness the when he could not attend, broke my heart." She moved away from the stove, wrapping her arms around her daughter in a tight, embracing, hug. She kissed the top of her head before looking at her once more with tear filled eyes. "He and I agreed, even if we no longer love eachother, we are friends, and he and his are just as welcome here as you have been with them. "

Sitara's eyes lit up, she clinging to her mother with all her might as she hugged her. "Momma, you know that I don't expect it. I like or time together, just you and me." There was the beginnings of fear in her voice. Change was scary, and even she asked she had gotten use to things as they were.

"Dear one, we will have it. He is not moving in, I wouldn't have it. We will have eachother, us against the world! After all, if I didn't have you, who could I have flour fights with, hm?" She giggled as she flipped a piece of almond at her daughter. The pair of them breaking out into tears and laughter as they stood there, mother and daughter, clinging to the one true rock the both of them had, eachother.

Giving Thanks

Username: ZaiaFantasy
Character: Opal

I'm thankful for:

Destiny was, and always would be, thankful for Karma.

When they met she'd been a serious student, spending a majority of her days in class, at work, or in the library. A fun night was reading in bed for the remaining few minutes of her day before falling asleep with the book discarded in her lap. She did not go out and have fun and she certainly did not have time for romance. Romance was the downfall of the studious and she had no time to be distracted. It was a lonely life, but she hardly considered it with her eyes firmly fixed on the prize.

She bumped into Karma by accident outside of the library and immediately found herself charmed by her easy air and the way she laughed. She was decked out in head to toe rainbow in a fashion much more ostentatious than her own muted style but there was something about her…Before she knew it she was being pulled down the street toward an arcade that she swore served pretty good pizza.

She panicked.

She was not the video game playing type and had not kept up on the latest titles. The first one she dragged her to was a dance game that Destiny looked embarrassed just standing near it. Her fearless companion simply hopped on and deposited enough money for the both of them and when she tried to protest it was met with. “Shut up. Just dance with me.”

So she did.

The first round was atrocious. She felt like an idiot compared to Karma’s skill and heard booing more often than the compliments that came from her new friend’s machine. The quarters kept coming, though, and soon she got into it. She was able to laugh at her own mistakes, enjoying the sound of it on top of the music. She had not laughed like that in what felt like months. And she kept finding reasons to laugh. The pizza tasted like cardboard and they were probably the only teenagers there but they drifted from one game to another talking and laughing and having a good time.

When the night was over she kissed her. She was helpless not to, entirely smitten. This girl was everything she never knew she always wanted and she knew that she couldn’t, wouldn’t, be without her for the rest of their lives. It took all of her self control not to call her the second she got home, and failed, and spent the rest of the night talking to her and barely felt what should have been deep fatigue the next day. She was too excited to be brought down by sleep. She had never wanted anything so much in all her life.

Which brought her to the ring in her hand. That date seemed to happen so long ago but the joy, the love, was still fresh every time she looked Karma’s way. Though her other half sometimes did things that drove her mad, like randomly changing the decor in their bar, she could not help but continue to fall a little more in love with her every day. She hoped, prayed, that this ring would show her how much. She would happily spend the rest of her life convincing Karma that she was worth marrying if she had to.

Maybe her girlfriend would never really know how thankful she was for her. In a lot of ways Karma saved her life. The least she could do was spend each day devoted to paying her back.

Giving Thanks

Username: Parue
Character: Trinity Duboise

I'm thankful for:

Thanksgiving was a large deal in her home. The house was buffed polished and shined. She had been dodging the help all day. She was glad they were being so thorough, but she had to make it clear her room was off limits. All to soon people would start arriving for the large formal dinner that her father hosted. It would be beautiful. Dazzling. Splendid. Filled with the most expertly crafted thanksgiving dinner that could probably found in a private residence.

It would also be a the most dull night of her life.

She picked out a gown of light blue fabric and simple diamond earrings and necklace. Trinkets and baubles, that were given with little significance and so had little meaning to her.

And all to soon for her liking she was swept up in the steam of guests, acting the part that was more accessory than actual person. She smiled prettily, and let strangers and familiar faces alike kiss her hand and tell her father how lovely his daughter was, how lovely his home, how generous his pockets, and all manner of praise she heard every year. The parade of food that was presented to the long long table was just as much for show as for flavor, and Trinity found herself eating very little, instead doing what she always did.

Waited patiently for it to be over.

And soon enough it was. Taking a deep breath as the final guest left, she turned and looked at her tiny family. Just her father, and his assistant Taiki who was stuck somewhere between mom and brother.

Her normally poised and proper father tugged at the bow tie, loosening it to the point where it lost most of its form. He looked between the two of them and gave an almost boyish grin." Well mes chéris, I think that went well. " He picked up a champagne flute with deft fingers, and drained the last of it and setting the empty glass on the top of a tray of a passing girl with a tray of dishes. He was always in high spirits after a successful dinner party... But as she narrowed her eyes of so slightly... she noticed something.

Her normally poised father was... was he... drunk?

Okay, maybe not drunk. Philipe Duboise never got drunk. But at least Tipsy. He slipped an arm around Taiki's shoulders " You both were magnifique. Now what do you say we all go and actually eat " He said, ruffling taiki's hair and releasing him to link arms with her.

She looked up adoringly between the two men beside her, ones face flush with success and maybe just a bit to much alcohol, ones face puzzled with lips maybe tilted down a little bit as he tried to put his hair to rights, yet at the same time trailing beside them willingly.

This was what she was truly grateful for. Not the big house, or the diamonds around her throat or even the bountiful food that was spread out on the counters, Philipe dismissing a flock of staff who were trying to portion and store all of it.

Her strange little family. She watched her father pick up a stuffed mushroom with his fingers and pop it into his mouth, and watch Taiki pull out a fork from apparently thin air and stab a morsel of lobster. She gave a dismissive shrug and slumped over the counter and stabbed a sweet glazed yam with an over-sized serving fork, and preceded to nibble delicately on it. She could do without everything else... After losing a family member once she never wanted to do it again. They were precious to her and she would hold onto this, protect this, forever.

Giving Thanks

Username: Silverah
Character: Jenna / Teide

I'm thankful for:

Jenna didn’t remember much in the way of Thanksgivings. She’d lost her memories in her purification, something she generally assumed to be to her benefit. What she knew of Gemma Hudson’s life was that it was unhappy, that her father was absent, her stepmother was a Negaverse general keen on spiriting her away to Boston for undoubtedly nefarious purposes, and her mother was… She sighed, drawing a big, fat blank. Her mother was still in Destiny City somewhere, if she was alive at all, and she was probably spending Thanksgiving alone, thinking her daughter was dead in a ditch somewhere, her underwear around her ankles, her hands bound with electrical tape…

Jenna stilled her hands over the carrots she was chopping, shaking her head to chase the thought away. She could get negative sometimes, her mind going to dark places… she thought of it as residual Chaos, even though she knew her Starseed was pure. It was no good to linger on all that darkness. Jenna’s life was better than Gemma’s had been, and if this was going to be her first Thanksgiving then she was going to make the best of it!

She had so many things to be thankful for, after all. Like Laney! And Aludra! And Avalon and Camlann! Having Avalon back was especially nice, after all, she’d been certain her former mentor was dead and she was cursed. But it had turned out okay! Better than okay! Because, if there was one thing Jenna was sure of, this was going to be the happiest Thanksgiving she’d ever had.

She finished with the carrots and swept them into the stew pot. The stove in her and Laney’s studio apartment had died about three tenants ago, but they had a hot plate that burned hot enough to boil chicken stock if you let it run for long enough. Most of their dinner was going to be store-bought, but Jenna to have at least one homemade thing on their table. Chicken soup was easy. She had a recipe from the internet and a big bag of vegetables and… she’d never made soup before. They didn’t really cook much.

She hoped, desperately, that it turned out okay.

It smelled good so far. That seemed like a good sign.

She finished with the vegetables, and then went to go set the table. None of their silverware matched. The plates were chipped and four different patterns. But she could set a nice table and she could make the most of this. They were sisters. Jenna didn’t have parents anymore, but that… that was okay. Because she had Laney. She’d left her blood family behind and found something so, so much better.

So maybe tonight wouldn’t be perfect. Maybe it wouldn’t have the opulence she might have enjoyed if she’d gone with Trixilite. (Jenna didn’t remember her stepmother’s civilian face, but she remembered that her general uniform dripped luxury, that her tastes were expensive, her home elegant.) But they’d be happy, and that made it better than any Thanksgiving money could buy.

Giving Thanks

Username: Ivynian
Character: Quenton Marinus

I'm thankful for:

There were no calls from family- Stroud or otherwise. There had never been great keeping of such events except as observances for social advancement. There were no calls or arrangements with friends - Odysseus was probably busy with his own large family, Colin’s small indication in text had been one not of camaraderie, Jeanne was a valkyrie-friend he’d not met in casual life much, Hannah had a young life that spoke of family whether in the hospital or not, and likewise with Delilah. Ash had clear limitations or wants of company, or preferences against specific sorts. Alois was dead, however his presence echoed in words of german, notes of piano imagined next to the sounds of traffic outside, or the weight of the young man’s bones on his hand. His few connections were dear, thin lights in high windows that he couldn’t or dared but touch in dire circumstance, ultimately distant. He was still thankful for them, but thankfulness between himself and others was again and again iterated to be best expressed by not inflicting himself on them.

The CatFé wouldn’t be open for Thursday or Black Friday, only opening as expected on Small Business Saturday to kick off the holiday season. It meant two days where his time was more dedicated to catching up with Graduate work, and spoiling the most important presence in his life: Faust. His Imperial Eminence, Lord Ouija. Mr. Puff, Maocifer, PuffNStuff, or any number of equally ridiculous monikers heaped on the fluffy singularity that was his Mauvian roommate. He had prepared by consulting and practicing actual massage with the CatFé’s consulting veterinarian. The animal sort was used for surgical rehabilitation, as opposed to mocked and internet famous videos about fetishized petting. It was worth learning, considering how often the Mauvian was on the front line of hunting and battle, and personal danger. For the holiday of Thanks, however, Quenton planned to utilize the new learning to make the Old Man feel luxuriant and extra special.

Dinner was a small, special affair for them both. He’d ordered a fresh duck in, organic and free range of about 6 lbs to roast with Cranberry Mostaza. The new apartment had increased footspace, and allowed some room to acquire small niceties like a small set of cookware and a knife block worth using for culinary trials greater than college basics. The whole of rendering and seasoning, simmering, reductions was about an hour- 2 tablespoons of the reserved duck fat to went to quartered endives, seasoned with salt and pepper for further human consumption, and a small selection of melon balls and broccoli florets for Mauvian (or catly) health. As much as awakening had allowed the furbeast to talk, think, and display a star on his brow, it hadn’t seemed to alter his physiology any further than the connection to Thraen had made Quenton’s human body anything closer to whatever a native of that asteroid world should have been. Faust was still sort of a cat, still purred, still scratched trees and seemed to prefer pooping in litter or leaves outdoors. He needed to eat protein for 10 specific amino acids they his body couldn’t make on his own, as well as vitamins and minerals to keep him sharp and healthy.

And the round melon balls would look adorable and likely frustrate the puff rolling around on his plate as he licked at them with his too-cute, sandpaper tongue.

The massage could be after dinner, then maybe he could heft his friend to his lap for a long nap in one of the window chairs while Quenton read. Hours later? They could spend some time working on stretching, flexibility, testing each other’s accuracy and speed at targets with paws against hands, possibly a laser pointer? And pictures. Plenty of pictures.